l,.b;... QtorttgU Hntucroitg SIthrarg BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF HENRY W. SAGE 1891 The date shows when this volume was taken. Cornell University Library PS 1382.P9 Pretty Mrs. Gaston, and other stories. etty If 3 1924 022 058 121 T^, s The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022058121 MMl AMMMfS ^-s- MB. JOBSOK PKOTBSTS. (Fronti^aiece. See page 34.) Pretty Mrs. Graston, AND OTHER STORIES. BY JOHN BSTE]Sr ^OOKE, AUTHOB OF " THB TIBailTI^ OOMBDIAKS," * ST7EBT OP EASLZ'S ITEBT," ' DB. TAIT DTKIi," ETC., BIO. ILLUSTRATED. NEW YORK: OEANaE JUDD COMPANY, 245 BKOADWAT. I«y4 k^%%1'Z^ Entered, according to Act of Congrees, In the year 1874, by the OEANGB JDDD COMPAKY, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. TO TEE CRITICS {rCKliant in riSbons and roses) who sat under the evergreens and read this history, "FRETTT MRS. GASTON" is re^ec(fuUy dedicated. GOISTTElfTS. PRETTY MRS. GASTON. PAGS. Chapteb 1.— Love and Beggary 9 Chapter 2. — An Eccentric 13 Chapter 3. — Mr. and Mrs. Ormby 20 Chapter 4. — Mr. Jobson Protests 34 Chapter 5.— A Fox-Hunt and What Followed It 27 Chapter 6. — The Crisis in A Young Man's Life .' 35 Chapter 7. — Mr. Jobson Consnlts with Dr. Harrington 41 Chapter 8.— A Nest of Doves 45 Chapter 9.— Harrington Feels His Way 54 Ch-vpter 10. — George Cleave and His "Little Sister" 59 Chapter 11.— The Result of Breaking One's Leg 68 Chapter 12. — Mr. Brown 74 Chapter 13. — Which Brings Up the Narrative 79 Chapter 14.— Mr." Daintreea Makes an Elaborate Toilette and Visits The Hollies 83 Chapter 15. — In the Swamp 88 Chapter 16. — ^Beside the Fire in the Swamp 91 Chapter 17.— The Physician in Spite of Himself 97 Chapter 18. — Harrington Announces His Intention to Leave Waterford...l04 Chapter 19.— The Woes of Daintrees 109 Chapter 20.— How Harrington Declared that He Had Grown Ten Tears Younger 114 Chapter 21.— Allan Gartrell, Esq 119 Chapter 22.— What Money-Trouble Brings Some Men To 123 Chapter 23. — Mr. Gartrell and His Friend Mr. Brown 128 Chapter 24.— Jack Dainlrees Entertains Some Friends 135 Chapter 23. — The Lawyer and the Lumber Agent 140 Chapter 26.— What OccuiTed at The Hollies on a Summer Night 146 Chapter 27.— What Occurred at Bay View 1S5 Chapter 28. — Mr. Brown Pronounces Sentence 161 Chapter 29.— Skirmishing at The Hollies 165 Chapter 30.— A General Engagement 170 Chapter 31. — The Cypress Leaf— and the Sunshine 178 Chapter 32.— Mr. Brovpn Departs 183 Chapter 33.— Which Treats of the Mysterious Movements of Mr. Jobson... 189 Chapter 34^Waiting 195 Chapter 35.— In Conclave 198 8 CONTENTS. Ann Chapteb 86.— Mr. Brown Begins ™ Chapteb 31— Mr. Brown Continnea ~~ Chaptbb 38.— Mr. Brown Concludes His Biplanatlon *10 Chapteb 39.— And the Curtain Falls upon the Comedy 221 ANNIE AT THE CORNER. FAQS. Chapter 1.— From a Window 224 Chapteb 2.— A School Girl 238 Chapteb 3.— Two Bivals 238 Chapteb 4.— Parting 243 Chapteb B.— The Eetum 247 Chapter 6.— A Woman 253 Chapter 7.— The Old House 258 Chapteb 8.— At the Corner 264 Chapter 9.— Conclusion 270 THE WEDDING AT DULUTH 273 ILLUSTEATIONS. Mr. Jobson Protests Frontispiece. " I Am a Beggar, Marian- a Beggar I " 11 Annie Bell Stopped and Turned Kounfl— a Statue or Surprise 50 "OhI Mr. DalntreesI" 91 " Good Morning, Sir I " Said Marian Rising 135 "His Health 1" 131 "No Offence is Meant by Either Gentleman, I Am Sure." 137 Cries Were Heard One or Two Hundred Yards in Front of The Hollies 153 "Your Father, Miss ?" 158 The Prying Moon— "What It Lingered upon Now 176 The Individual Resembling a BuU-dog Had Listened 319 PRETTY MRS. GASTON. CHAPTER I. LOVE AND BEGGARY. ON an autumn afternoon, some years ago, a young girl was standing before her mirror in an upper cham- ber of Bayview, an old house on the western bank of the Chesapeake, making her toilet, evidently for a ride on horseback. She was about seventeen, had very large blue eyes full of candor and sweetness, a delicate complexion, Hps that seemed always smiling, and a figure slender, supple, and undulating. You might have called her a beauty as she stood before her mirror with her graceful arms raised, and the small hands balancing the brown felt riding-hat on her braids. Having arranged her hat to her satisfaction, she took a riding whip with an ivory handle and a pair of buff 9 10 PEETTT MES. GASTON. gauntlets from the table, and vent down stairs support- ing her long skirt on her left arm. In front of the por- tico a groom vas holding two horses, one with a lady's side-saddle. At the door a young gentleman was waiting for her. The character of some human beings is read at a glance without trouble. The person who had come to ride out with Miss Marian Ormby might haye been described as the "average young man." He was well-shaped, well- dressed, had a handsome, if not very intellectual face, and smiled naturally, which is a distinct gift. The greeting exchanged between the two young per- sons, and the manner in which the gentleman assisted the lady to mount her horse, indicated relations of an intimate character. It required, in fact, but a yery small amount of perspicacity to understand that they were engaged — since there was not only fondness, but confi- dence and tranquillity. The countenance of the young gentleman had glowed suddenly as the girl came out ; but as they rode down the hill and into the fields beyond the great gate enclos- ing the grounds this glow disappeared, and the face became gloomy. Thereupon followed this dialogue : "What is the' matter, George?" "The matter, Marian?" "Ton seem to be troubled, and are actually pale." "Well, I have something to trouble me " He stopped, sighing. The young lady looked at him more attentively. PBETTY MRS. GASTON. 11 " I never saw you so dispirited. Is anything the mat- ter? TeU me, George !" "Marian — ^I am — ^it is hard to tell you." " I AM A BEQGAB, MABIAU— A BEGGAR ! "I have the right to share your troubles if you have any The gentle and caressing Toice touched him. He said with a deeper sigh than before : " Do you know whom you are engaged to ?" 12 PEBTTY MES. GASTOlf. "I believe I do!" It was pleasant to hear the httle laugh and to see the faint blush. "I supposed at least that the name of the gentleman was— Mr. George Cleaye, of OleaTeland." " Cleayeland is not mine." " Not your o-(^n?" "I am a beggar, Marian — a beggar! I only found it out last night, and have come to tell you all about it, and — and — ask you for some advice and — comfort, Ma- rian." Now as Mr. George Cleave was at this time aware of only a part of the circumstances leading to the critical change in his worldly affairs, we shall supply the omis- sions, and narrate fully if briefly what had happened, going back to a chamber in the great mansion of Cleave- land three or four years before the date of this history. PKBTTY MRS. GASTOK. 13 CHAPTEE II. AK ECCEKTKIC. HAMILTON CLEAVE, Esq., possessor of Oleave- land, one of the amplest estates in that part of Virginia, returned home one evening through a heavy rain after a ride over his property, and on the next day took to his bed and sent for his family physician. The physician did not make his appearance until even- ing, when the disease — ^pneumonia — had made gigantic strides. "Well, Doctor? What do you think?" said Mr. Cleave. The doctor looked dispirited, and made an evasive reply. He remained all night, and in the evening of the next day Mr. Cleave asked again, this time in a much weaker voice : "What do you think now. Doctor?" "I regret to say that you are very ill, Mr. Cleave." "I know that. I wish you to speak plainly. I am going to die, am I not ?" The doctor hesitated, "Speak plainly." 14 PEETTT MES. GASTON". " I am sorry to say, Mr. Cleave, that your condition is critical — very critical indeed." " Is there a chance for my recovery ?" The doctor made no reply; whereupon Mr. Cleave moved his head feebly and said : "I know what I wanted to know now. Oblige me by sending a servant to Mr. Marks, my legal adviser." Having uttered these words with entire nonchalance, the sick man closed his eyes and seemed to be reflecting. Mr. Marks promptly made his appearance, and the old planter requested him to take his seat at the table and write his will. "I will state briefly my wishes in reference to the dis- posal of my property, Mr. Marks. There are three per- sons only who have any claims upon me — my nephew, George Cleave, who is at college; a second nephew, Allan Gartrell, now in Paris, I believe ; and Annie Bell, the daughter of an old friend, adopted by me." "Yes, Mr. Cleave." " I wish the Cleaveland property here, with all the personal estate, to go to George Cleave, who has nothing, and my 'Free Hill' farm to go to Annie Bell, with all the personal effects, as in the first instance." "And Mr. Gartrell, sir?" " No part of my real estate. He is well provided for — his father left him an ample property. I give him, how- ever, as a mark of my regard, the certificates of railway and other stock, which you will find in the drawer of that desk in the comer." "Any further directions, Mr. Cleave ?" PEBTTT MRS. GASTOIS". 15 "None, sir." >' The Cleaveland property, real and personal, to your nephew, Mr. George CleaTe; the Free Hill estate and personalty to Miss Annie Bell; the railway and other certificates of stock to Mr. Allan Gartrell?" Mr. Cleave nodded and closed his eyes. Half an hour afterwards Mr. Marks said : " I have finished. Shall I read the paper, Mr. Cleaye ?" "If you please." The lawyer read it slawly. " Correct," was the sole comment of the sick man. "I have left a blank for the name of your executor." "IwiUadditlater." On the next day the will was executed, two friends who came to see Mr. Cleaye oificiating as witnesses. In the CTening they were gone, and the doctor only was present. "Doctor," said Mr. Cleave feebly, "where is Annie ?" "Down-stairs, sir." " Poor thing ! she wiU be alone now. And George — I wish George would come !" " He has been sent for, Mr. Cleave, and will arrive, I hope, to-night." "As soon as he comes, say I wish to see him, and — stop. Doctor ; I have executed my will, but " The voice ceased for an instant. "She will have no home," he went on in a faint, dreamy voice. " If I could only bring abont^ " He stopped again. "Doctor," he said in a moment, "you are a friend. 16 PRETTY MRS. GASTON. and have often visited me here. Have you observed George and Annie ?" "I have frequently seen them, Mr. Cleave." " Do you think them fond of each other ?" "I think I have observed that they were quite fond." The dying man seemed much gratified by these words. "If George would only come," he said; "all depends on that now " He lay for an hour after this without moving or speak- ing ; his eyes closed, his breathing faint and irregular. Then he opened his eyes and said : "I wish you — ^to tell me. Doctor — how long I have to live ! It is important that you should speak plainly." It was evident that the dying man had some fixed design, and the physician knew that he would insist upon a response. "I regret to say, Mr. Cleave," he replied, "that you are sinking steadily. Before midnight, I fear." " That is enough. Do me the favor to go to the win- dow, Doctor, and listen if you hear George coming. The noise of the carriage wheels may be heard." The physician went and listened. The wind was sob- bing without, but no other sound disturbed the silence. " I hear nothing, Mr. Cleave." " Then no time is to be lost. Do me the kindness to seat yourself. Doctor, and write from my dictation a codicil to my will." The old .physician was accustomed to obey Mr. Cleave, who always insisted on things. He sat down, drew a sheet of paper to him, and dipped the pen in the ink. PRETTY MRS. GASTOIT. 17 What Mr. Cleave dictated in the clearest, briefest, but most definite manner was a codicil to his will to the effect that the estate of " CleaYeland," with all pertaining to it, should go to his nephew George Cleave only on condi- tion that he should marry Annie Bell lefore he was twenty-five years of age. This condition faiKng, the estate was to go to Allan Gartrell— but the said George Cleave was meanwhile to have possession. The physician^ listened with some astonishment, but mechanically wrote what the patient dictated. "Eeadit, Doctor." The codicU was read. "Accurate. Give me the paper and a pen." He affixed his name, and had just done so, when his head fell, and he dropped the pen. "Mr. Cleave!" The paper escaped from the dying man's hand and fell to the floor. The physician called loudly for the sick man's nurse, an old house-keeper, who ran at the call. When she reached the chamber Mr. Cleave was dead. An hour afterwards the physician set out to ride home, his mind so oppressed by the death of one whom he had greatly esteemed that he had entirely lost sight of the codicil to the vrill. A singular event followed. A heavy rain storm had arisen, accompanied by thunder and light- ning — the aged doctor was exposed to it during his long ride, and an acute attack of fever followed, which re- sulted ten days afterwards in his death. In his last hours when he was nearly speechless, he seemed desirous 18 PEETTT MES. GASTON'. of making some communication— probably to speak of the codicil— but his broken words were not understood, and he died without making any statement. A fatality indeed seemed connected with this singular document. The aged house-keeper of Mr. Oleaye had proceeded after his death to "set the room to rights" her eyes blinded by tears, and seeing on the floor what appeared to be a piece of waste paper, had picked it up, folded it neatly, and placed it in a book, which she had afterwards consigned to the book-case in the library. It was thus effectually lost — ^to be discoyered only three years afterwards by George Cleave, who had arriTed an hour after his uncle's death. He had been sitting in the library at twilight smoking and his cigar had gone out. Looking for a piece of waste paper to relight it, he had seen what appeared to be a book-mark in a volume in the book-case, drawn it out, lit one corner of the paper in the Are, and was about to apply his cigar to the flame when- some writing on the paper attracted his attention, and he extinguished it. He then obtained a light, read the paper — he must marry Annie Bell, then residing with a Mrs. Gaston m the neighborhood, or surrender Cleaveland. This was the discovery which George Cleave announced to Miss Marian Ormby, to whom he was engaged to be married, as they rode out together on this autumn even- ing. It is unnecessary to repeat their conversation. It was gloomy enough. Cleave lamented bitterly his idle and luxurious life since taking possession of Cleaveland— he PRETTY MRS. GASTON. 19 might have established himself in his profession of the law — ^he had been criminally indolent — he could not drag down Marian, even if Mr. Ormby consented, and it was certain that he would neyer consent ! So the youth went on, refusing comfort. But the " weaker yessel " consoled the other. He had nothing ? He was alone and poor ? No, he had herself, and what did she care for wealth ? She would live with him in a cabin ! the brave girl said with flushed cheeks, and eyes glowing through tears. And her father would consent — George must tell him all — they could wait if necessary until he established himself in his profession, she would wait for him just as long as he wished, and all would be well — unless — unless The young lady laughed. " Unless you would rather marry Miss Annie Bell !" It is unnecessary to repeat the reply of George Cleave to these words, or describe his proceeding. A little gleam of joy broke through the gloom — they rode back — and Cleave returned to his own house to concoct a state- ment of affairs for the eyes of Ormby ^^re. Alas ! two young and throbbing hearts, strong only in love and faith were matching themselves against that homy and ossified something passing for a heart beneath the ruffles of Mr. J. Ormby. 20 PEETTY MES. GASTOlf. CHAPTEE III. ME. A2>rD MES. OEMBT. TOWAED noon on the day after the ride, Mr. Ormby, a portly gentleman of about sixty, came out of his library at Baydew, took his gold-headed cane from its corner, put on his hat, and descending to the smooth gravel walk in front of the house, began walking slowly to and fro. Mr. Ormby's walk was peculiar, as indeed was the whole carriage of his person. He held his chin aloft, with his gold-headed cane beneath •his left arm, and seemed to take the surrounding landscape under his pro- tection. Prom time to time he turned his head slowly from side to side, bestowed a glance of seignorial com- placence upon the fertile fields before him, and cleared his throat in a grave and dignified manner, indicative of landed proprietorship and self-esteem. He might have been described indeed as overpowering the face of nature, as he overpowered his company. Having walked slowly to and fro in front of the house for a quarter of an hour, Mr. Ormby paused, cleared hia throat, and was about to reenter the mansion, when a PREXTY MES. GASTON. 31 servant rode up the hill and respectfully delivered a letter. "Eh? Eh?" said Mr. Ormby. A note? And from my young friend at Cleaveland." With dignified deliberation he opened the letter, placed upon his venerable nose a pair of gold spectacles, and began the perusal of the document. No sooner, however, had he read two or three lines, than he lost his air of composure, glared at the paper, and turning very red in the face, hastened — actually hastened — into the house. In the haU he stopped, fixing his eyes again upon the paper. Then he crumpled it in his hand, and went hur- riedly to announce its contents to Mrs. Ormby. This lady was seated in her chamber — a mild and rather feeble looking personage in a black alpaca dress, a lace cap, spectacles, and apparently about the age of Mr. Ormby. She was slowly netting some article of worsted work, and raised her eyes, with an air of dis- quiet, as Mr. Ormby entered. " Here's a pretty business, Mrs. Ormby ! a pretty busi- ness !" exclaimed Mr. Ormby ; " I am astounded, madam — ^fairly astounded !" "Yes, my dear," said Mrs. Ormby with gentle acqui- escence. "You always say, 'Yes, my dear,' madam !" said Mr, Ormby, now very red in the face, "and never wait to hear what is said to you ! As I have observed, madam, this is a pretty business ! Here is a letter from young Cleave — he has found a new will of his uncle's — he is to 22 PKETTY MBS. GASTON. marry Miss Bell, the young woman residing with her cousin, Mrs. Gaston, at The Hollies, or the fine estate of Oleayeland goes to Gartell, the other nephew !" "Yes, my ," began Mrs. Ormby, looking startled. Then she stopped, gazing in a feeble way at Mr. Ormby. " The young man — I refer to Mr. George Cleave," said Mr. Ormby, walking about in an excited manner, "writes to inform me of the discovery of the new will — a codicil — he makes no concealment — acts honorably in the affair — and it is due to Mm that I should be equally candid, Mrs. Ormby!" "Yes, my dear," said Mrs. Ormby, except that the " dear " was inaudible. She gazed at him in a vague and helpless way, not having the remotest idea of what Mr. Ormby meant by being "equally candid." "I shall be plain I say, madam ; and much as I regret it, inform young Cleave that hia^ngagement with Marian can not — ^hem ! — under the circumstances — hem ! — con- tinue!" "Oh Mr. Ormby!" It was the most original observation made for many months by the excellent lady. "Eh! Eh!" exclaimed the now irate gentleman, " you object then ! You oppose me ! You wish your daughter to marry a beggar !" Mrs. Ormby subsided meekly to netting. " Of course, madam," continued Mr. Ormby with extreme dignity, " Miss Ormby, of Bayview, can not be expected to unite herself with a young person who has no estate and no means of marrying. It is only neces- PRETTY MES. GASTO^S". 23 sary to state the fact, madam — ahem ! It is painful, ■extremely painful — ^but it is my duty — I owe it to my daughter !" " Poor George !" muttered Mrs. Ormby. "What's that, madam?" "Yes, my dear." Mr. Ormby raised his head with dignity. " I am pleased to see that you agree with me, Mrs. Ormby! I shall therefore write to young Cleave the result of this conTersation. His obvious course is to fol- low the wishes of his uncle, and pay his addresses at once to Miss Bell. I will therefore proceed to write, madam." And Mr. Ormby, far more agitated than he appeared, left the room to go to his library, Mrs. Ormby subsiding feebly in her chair, the netting-needles resting on her lap. 34 PEETTT MKS. GASTON. CHAPTEE IV. ME. JOBSON PEOTESTa. GEOKGB CLEAVE was engaged in conTersation at Oleaveland -with Mr. Jobson, attomey-at-law from the neighboring town of Waterford. Mr. Jobson was a thin and wiry old gentleman, with short hair, a piercing pair of eyes behind huge spectacles, a reticent expression — and had the habit of looking at the person to whom he was speaking out of the upper portion of his eyes, above his glasses. He wore a suit of rusty black, and seemed to carry about with him the odor of law-books bound in calf, and dusty papers tied with pink tape, with which was mingled the perfume of the old-fashioned Scotch snuff spilt upon his coat-sleeTes. Mr. Jobson had been engaged for fully half an hour in a silent examination of the codicil to Mr. Hamilton Cleave's will, and now quietly laid the document on the table, helping himself thereafter to a large pinch of snuff out of a black box. " I understand you to ask my professional opinion of this paper, Mr. Cleave, and whether it is valid and bind- ing in law?" PRETTY MRS. GASTON. 26 "Yes, sir." "It is of no force or effect whatever, and I hope you have taken no steps of any sort consequent upon its dis- covery." "Of no force ? Explain yourself, Mr. Jobson !" " Look at it. In whose handwriting is it ?" " It seems to be dictated — that is to say, is not in my uncle's writing ; but the signature is his own." " I do not know that, but grant so much. His signar ture is the only one." " The only one ?" "There are no witnesses." "Is that necessary ?" " Absolutely necessary. If written throughout by your uncle's hand the paper would be valid without witnesses. Written by the hand of another, witnesses signing in his presence and in the presence of each other, are indis- pensable." George Cleave took up the paper, and scanned it thoughtfully. "That is beyond all doubt my uncle's signature," he said. "I think it more than probable." "And he must have designed this paper to be binding, else he would not have signed it." "Granted, if you choose." " Then, Mr. Jobson, I consider myself bound a§ a gen- tleman not to contest it." " Not contest it ! " exclaimed Mr. Jobson, " Certainly not, sir." 36 PEETTY MES. GASTON. "Not contest a paper of no earthly Talidity! Sur- render the finest property in the county under a paper like this, not worfli the ink i#was written with !" CleaTe shook his head. " I know you are my friend, Mr. Jobson, hut your ad- vice is bad.. You acknowledge that the only flaw in this paper is the on^Lssion of a legal formality ; it is plain, nevertheless, that my uncle intended to execute the codicil — I have nothing to do with his motives, and I will carry out his intentions." " Give up the property ? " - . • "Yes, sir. - 1 can not offer myself to Miss Bell, and I know she has not the least wish to marry me. The only thirig, therefore, is to write to ^ly cousin Allan Gartrell — I will give you the address of his banker in Liverpool. I* wish you would do so, and say that I am ready to sur- render this estate to him." Mr. Jobson burst forth into exclamations and_ remon- strances, but the young man insisted. . "Well," said the old lawyer at length, "your father was my best friend, and here .his son is about to ruin himself. Give me a few days to think of it — something may turn up — there ought to be a compromise lat the very least, if there is ira be no contest." Mr. Jobson groaned. " My young Mend," he added with pathetic solemnity, "if business was conducted in the way you conduct it the world wouli^ not go on for a day ! " And with this last protest Mr. Jobson went away groaning. PEETTT MES, GASTON. 27 CHAPTER V.» A FOS-HXJNT AND WHAT FOLLOWED IT. A FEW miles from Bayview toward the iffberior, stood " The Lodge," the bachelor stronghold of one of the most popular gentlemen of the county. The-, name of this gentleman was Mr. John, or "Jack," Daintrees, and, perhaps, the adjective "bachelor" ap- plied to his residence was a little inappropriate. Mr. Dain- trees was a widower of some years' standing ; but then he was childless, extremely joyial in his tastes, and led the life'of a rollicking bachelor and fox-hunter, keeping open house at The Lodge, where everybody was welcome. The Lodge was what is called a "hip-roofed" house, of moderate size, built of wood, overshadowed by tall elms, and extremely brightJooking and comfortable. It was perfectly plain at the first glance that no ladies lived at The Lodge, which had a free and careless bachelor- look about it ; but Mr. Daintrees was an excellent manager, was well to do, "and surrounded by every com- fort; and his bachelor entertainments, thanks to ac- complished servants, were the talk of the county. 38 PRETTY MES. GASTON. The tastes of Mr. Daintrees were soon seen. About the lawn extending in front of the house ran twenty or thirty tawny fox-hounds, dragging their blocks, and hastening to caress their master whenever he appeared ; and the stables, which were kept in perfect order by an old gray-headed negro groom with an army of young Africans under him, boasted quite a number of thorough- bred horses, upon which Mr. Daintrees was accustomed to follow the hounds. The interior of the mansion was old-fashioned and. well appointed. The walls, covered with a light, gray paper, were hung round with hunting scenes and pictures of English race-horses in plain walnut frames. The fire- places were lai:ge, and for half the year roared with great hickory logs, making the apartments of The Lodge a pleasant sight to behqld — especially the dining-room, when Mr. Daintrees assembled around his mahogany table, dark with age, and decorated with decanters, Ms bachelor friends. In the hall a spreading pair of deer's antlers did duty as a coat and. hat rack ; and behind the front-door hung a hunting-horn, the spoil of some mighty ox, the small end carved to set well to the lips of the blower, and around the larger end a silver band, on which was carved, "John Daintrees, The Lodge." Mr. Jack Daintrees was about forty, with rather a full figure, a ruddy and smihng face, a fine forehead, fine eyes, and dressed rather jauntily. He was the perfection of good-humor and hospitality, gay in his address, and universally popular with ladies of all ages. He did not affect youth, and, indeed, was accustomed to speak of PBETTT MKS. GASTON. 29 himself as an old fellow who had done with the vanities of life ; but in spite of these disclaimers he was welcomed everywhere by the youngest of the young ladies, who laughed delightedly at his gay jests, and with marked attention by those of more advanced age, with preten- sions stiU — under favorable' circumstances — to matri- mony. On the morning when we visit The Lodge, Mr. Jack Daintrees rose at daybreak, and descended to his break- fast-room dressed in fuU hunting-costume — short coat, top boots, and jockey cap ;-Jor on this day Mr. Daintrees proposed to follow the hounds in company with several of his friends who had spent the night with him. The breakfast-table was set, a cheerful fire blazing, and Dan, his old black groom, was waiting to report. A rapid consultation took place on the subject of the. horses, Dan went out and Mr. Daintrees proceeded to ring a huge bell, which brought down-stairs his half- dozen guests, fresh and full of ardor for the hunt. Mr. Jack Daintrees had a jest for everybody, and mixed with an experienced hand a jorum of peach brandy and honey, which was passed around. Then a hearty breakfast was dispatched ; the horses were led out ; Mr. Daintrees blew a resounding blast upon his horn, swung around his shoulder by its green cord ; and the gay party set out after _the hounds toward a neighboring copse, where a gray fox had been seen on the preceding day. Fifteen minutes afterwards the hounds' were in full cry, and the chase had opened under the most favorable auspices. 30 PEETTT MKS. GASTON. Three hours passed. The fox, eTidently old and gray, had taken straight across the count^, and now the gay companions of the moAif g were dispersed. One of them had rolled in a ditch, the horses of nearly all the rest had given out or fallen behind, and only Mr. Jack Daintrees and one other had kept up. The personage in question was Dr. Ralph Harrington, a young physician, who had settled down a year or two before at Waterford, and who combined out-door amusements with his professional pursuits in the most harmonious manner. Dr. Ralph Harrington impressed you at the first glance. He was about twenty-eight, tall, very erect, with a face full of intellect, a somewhat satirical expres^- sion of the lips, dark eyes, which looked calmly into your own, and carried himself generally with ^ an air of lazy good-nature.'' A shrinking want of confidence in himself did not strike strangers as a very marked characteristic of Dr. Ralph Harrington ; but he was popular, neverthe- less ; was Justly regarded as an able physician, and had already secured an excellent practice. During the fox-hunt. Dr. Harrington had kept up with the foremost, and now found himself far ahead of all but his friend Jack Daintrees. They were riding neck and neck. The fox had gone on in a straight course for nearly ten miles, had then doubled and came back by Oleaveland, and was passing between The Lodge and The Hollies, the home of a fair neighbor of Mr. Daintrees, when the hunters saw emerge from a woodland "road a small sorrel ridden by a young lady. The gay little animal had evidently been inspired by the cry of the PRETTY MRS. GASTO]r THE SWAMP. 66rpHE SWAMP," to which Mr. Daintrees had I alluded, was one of those sluggish streams frequently met with in Tidewater Virginia, the despair of agriculturists and roadmakers. In the dry season it was simply a lazy, lingering thread of muddy water which stole along through the grass-covered low grounds; but so low was the surface that the least rain swelled this slight current, made a dozen others, then covered the whole save where a sort of island here and there rose, and made the passage well nigh impossible. On the road to Waterford a long wooden bridge, raised a few feet above the bush-grass on trestles, had accord- ingly been constructed; and on this somewhat rickety structure vehicles of all sorts could pass over the treach- erous ooze. Unfortunately, heavy rains had recently taken place, and the swamp was greatly swollen. Mrs. Gaston had passed over the bridge in the morning when the water, now completely covering the swamp, except in certain spots, was within a foot of the roadway. The driver had PRETTY MKS. GASTON. 89 declared it safe, as indeed it proved, but it was equally certain that an additional rain-storm would seriously en- danger the bridge. Jack Daintrees thought of all this as he hastened on, his horse frightened and flying along as the thunder rumbled overhead. "Would Mrs. Gaston attempt to cross ? Would she arrive in time ? Might not the storm burst before — - ? The bridge was in sight — a long, low, insecure afEair, lashed by the now galloping waters of the whilom lazy, lingering swamp. The tall grass, nearly submerged, dashed to and fro in the current, the hanging boughs of some trees on a small island at the middle of the bridge dipped to the water ; the swamp was on a frolic, and — ■ worst of all — Mrs. Gaston's coach was seen approaching the bridge. At the same moment the rain dashed down, and the waters seemed to rise before Mr,^ Daintrees's eyes. He spurred upon the bridge, which tottered and groaned- be- neath his horse's feet ; made signals to the driver of Mrs. Gaston's carriage not to venture upon it; reached the middle — and saw the carriage coming on rapidly over the bridge beyond. The catastrophe followed. Scarcely had the vehicle reached the island when the bridge behind gave way. Mrs. Gaston threw open the door and leaped out, ex- • claiming, *' Oh ! Mr. Daintrees ! " in an accent which sent a thrill of joy through the bosom of that gentle- man — when the crowning event of this eventful day came to put the finishing touch to everything. Mrs. Gaston 90 PEETTT MES. GASTON. had leaped from the carriage while it was in motion — ^the old driver, in his excitement, had not been aware of the fact, and had continued his way, entering on the last half of the bridge — all at once, as he was near the shore, that too sank under the Tehicle ; and it was only by violent lashing that old Jake, plunging through grass, water, and mud, succeeded in forcing his way up the bank to firm ground. Mrs. Gaston and Mr. Jack Daintrees were on an island in the middle of the swamp — the bridge was washed away on the right and the left-^the storm was roaring down, the lightning setting the darkness on fire, the thunder discharging its big guns ; and the "weaker vessel," over- come and sobbing with terror, clung unconsciously to the "lord of creation," who supported her heroically with his encircling arm ! PKBTTT MES. GASTON. 91 CHAPTEE XVI. BESIDE THE FIEE IK THE SWAMP. 44 ^^H! Mr. Daintrees!" \J "Don't be alarmed, my dear Mrs. Gaston 1 don't be alarmed !" " But — ob 1 we shall be drowned 1" w m " OH ! MB. DADITBBES ! " "I think not," said Mr. Daintrees, "and I hope for your sake more than for my own — yes ! more than for 93 PRETTY MES. GASTOIT. my own," repeated Mr. Jack Daintrees resolutely, as if some one had contradicted him, "that no harm will happen to one — hem ! — one whom — I regard as my best friend." " Oh ! indeed it is I who need a friend ! Just look ! The water is rising ! " "But the storm is ceasing !" said Mr. Daintrees. " Tljere is no serious, real danger then !" "I can't say that, madam ; but one thing I can say, that whateyer that danger may be I am determined to share it with you." A grateful look repaid him. It was heroic in Mr. Dain- trees. For might he not have mounted, plunged into the current, and gained — as novelists say — the opposing shore ? "I have long felt," said Mr. Daintrees, "that our fates were or ought to be united, my dear Mrs. Gaston ! See how the very elements combine to throw us together ! We are here alone together on a lonely island in the midst of a raging current, and — but be not uneasy. I will rescue you or share your fate ! " "Whether Mr. Daintrees had been reading romances or not, we cannot say ; but at least he was in earnest. His earnestness, indeed, was so great that — ^unconsciously, no double— he drew the graceful form of Mrs. Gaston toward him, looked at her with deep devotion, and said : "Let me wrap you in this cloak !" It was an abrupt descent from the idea. of perishing to- gether ; but an agreeable descent it seemed to Mrs. Gaston. She permitted herself to be enveloped in the waterproof. PEETTY MES. GASTOK. 93 withdrew in a quiet manner from Mr. Daititrees's arm, and said : " But oh ! Mr. Daintrees — what shall we do ?" Haying ceased to enjoy the pleasure of supporting his fair companion, and seeing no prospect of a renewal of that romantic proceeding, Mr. Daintrees looked at the ''situation" in a strictly business-like light, and said : "Let me reflect a moment, my dear madam, and think what is best; First, there is no prospect of the swamp falling even suflSciently to carry you oyer behind me — that is, not to-night ; and you see night has come. We must therefore be rescued— you at least." "You can call to Uncle Jake !" " My dear Mrs. Gaston, you fill me with admiration ! I knew the treasures of your heart — ahem — and now I fin d your good-sense equally admirable. Jake !" The last word was uttered in a stentorian Voice, and Jake responding, he was directed to hasten to the house of a neighbor and procure assistance. Jake promptly obeyed. He unhitched one of the horses, mounted, and was heard clattering ofE in the darkness. "And now, for your comfort in the meantime ! The night is growing chill !" said Mr. Daintrees. He took from his pocket a match-case, for so old a smoker never was without that convenience ; collected some dry sticks and dead limbs, Ht them, and soon a cheerful blaze soared aloft, lightiag up the wild and gloomy scene. The rain had ceased, and the storm had muttered away into the distance ; but the angry waters of the swamp were seen and heard roaring around them ; 94 • PRETTY MES. GASTOJST. drift-wood dasKed by with dangerous Telocity; there was even some reason to doubt whether the small patch of firm land occupied by Mrs. Gaston, Mr. Daintrees, and his horse, would not be OTerflowed. " If it should be, madam," said Mr. Daintrees, " there is but one course to pursue. I will mount and swim to shore with you in my arms !" Mrs. Gaston blushed. She presented a very handsome spectacle at the moment. She was haU-recHning, wrap- ped in the water-proof, by the blaze, her fair hair ail in disorder on her handsome neck, her small feet peeping from her wet skirt, and her whole attitude shrinking, timid, confiding. Mr. Jack Daintrees was nearly over- come ! "It we are saved," said Mrs. Gaston, with her little glance and blush, " I shall owe you my life ! " And Mrs. Gaston with her pretty hand put back a curl from her pretty face. Mr. Daintrees was overcome ! "If I could only be permitted to take charge of that beloved life ! " exclaimed Mr. Daintrees, seizing the hand. "If I was only worthy — if such presumption would not make you laugh at me !" "Oh! Mr. Daintrees!" murmured pretty Mrs. Gas- ton. " Am I wrong — indelicate — to speak of this on such an occasion — ^when we are thus alone together on this deserted isle ?" said Mr. Daintrees. " Only tell me, dearest madam — only speak one word — and I will stop at once I" PRETTY MRS. GASTOM". 95 But Mrs. Gaston, seemed too muoli agitated to speak the word — whereat Mr. Daintrees thrilled with joy. "I am not presumptuous then ! — ^you do not forbid me ! — ^I may hope then !" Mr. Daiatrees looked the' picture of joy. "Then I may take charge of the fate of one " A sudden halloo from the shore made them start, and looking up, they saw the blaze of torches. "Only one word!" cried Mr. Daintrees, "only one word !" Mrs. G-aston raised her eyes, looked at Mr. Daintrees for precisely the one hundredth part of one second, and then permitting the long lashes to fall upon her cheek, said in a whisper, with a blush and a smile : "I would rather say that word — if I am to say it — at The Homes !" A resounding shout came, drowning Mr. Daintrees's rapturous response ; hammers were heard constructing a raft of drift-wood, and precisely one hour afterwards Mrs. Gastpn was placed upon this impromptu contriv- ance ; it was pushed through the water, which proved not to be very deep, and Mr. Jack Daintrees having plunged through on horseback, they were all soon safely on shore. Mrs. Gaston then got into her carriage — ^which had sustained no injury — thanked her kind neighbor, Mr. Page, who had come with all his men so promptly to her rescue ; and then, with the last mutterings of the storm still resounding, rolled away toward The Hollies. Mr. Daintrees had determined to return homeward, and had said with an air of common-place politeness : 96 PBETTY MES. GASTOK. " I shall do myself tlie pleasure of calling to-morrow, madam, to ascertain if you have caught cold." The astute Mr. Jack Daintrees had supposed that he would thus compel Mrs. Gaston to say : "I shall be yery glad to see you." Mrs. Gaston simply replied — but with the ghost of a side-glance at Mr. Daintrees — "Thank you, sir !" PEETTT MES. GASTOK. 97 CHAPTER XVII. THE PHTSICIAK IN SPITE OF HIMSELF. HALF a mile from The Hollies Mrs. Gaston was startled by an exclamation from the old driver, and the carriage suddenly stopped, "What is the matter?" she exclaimed. "It is nobody but me. Auntie," said a voice in the darkness, and Mrs. Gaston recognized Annie, who came and opened the door before the old coachman could descend for that purpose. "Why, Annie ! my dear child !" exclaimed Mrs. Gaston as the young lady entered the carriage, "what could have made you come out ? you are soaking wet ! " " I was so uneasy about you. Auntie ! I could not sit still ! So I just walked out and went on until " "With nothing on your head, and only this scarf around you ! And your feet are wringing wet ! Oh ! my dear child." " It is nothing, Auntie. But how did you get over, and where is Mr. Daintrees ?" 98 PEETTT MRS. GASTCWST, The carriage liad continued its way, and Mrs. Gaston having wrapped Annie in her own shawl, related her ad- ventures, accidentally omitting any allusion to the some- what peculiar character of her interview with the pro- prietor of The Lodge. "That was just like Mr. Daintrees!" exclaimed An- nie; " he is the best friend we have ! " "Do you like him, my dear ?" " Indeed I do — and so do you, my little auntie," re- turned Annie with a slight laugh. Mrs. Gaston blushed in the darkness and said : " "Well, you know, my child — one can not help regard- ing as a friend a gentleman who comes so frequently ! Ever since your accident last year, Mr. Daintrees has been very intimate with us, and has called every week." " Every week ! " exclaimed Annie with a momentaiy return of her constitutional gayety; "Every day you might say ! But I won't tease you. Auntie, I am so glad you are safe, and I love you very much, and I believe I will kiss you ! " An embrace followed, then Annie suddenly coughed. "You have taken cold, Annie !" " A little, I'm afraid. Auntie. But it is nothing ! " It proved to be something, and by no means a slight something. The young lady had become drenched, her feet saturated in the mud and water of the high road, and on the next morning she complained of a pain in her side, and was ordered by Mrs. Gaston to remain in her chamber. "Why what a nervous, fearful, and absurd little PRETTY MES. GASTOM". 99 auntie you are !" slie exclaimed ; "why should I not go down?" "You may be sick." "/ sick ! " what an idea ! And how do you think The Hollies will get along without me, madam ? " " It will get along very weU. I will take care of the flowers, and if George or anybody comes I will try to entertain them." "George?" "Yes, you know he will certainly come, as he has not been here for two days." A singular expression came to Annie's face, and she said quickly : " Well, I suppose you are right. Auntie, and I will re- main in my room." Mrs. Gaston looked at the speaker who had thus promptly yielded, but Annie's face was impenetrable. The fair widow therefore left the young lady, and went to send up her breakfast. Annie had no appetite, and coughed a good deal. About noon Mrs. Gaston became a little uneasy, and thought of sending for a doctor, when Mr. Daintrees and George Cleaye made their appearance — ^they had reached The Hollies by accident at the same moment. Mr. Daintrees looked a little crestfallen — the presence of George was unlucky — and as the young man seemed to be in no haste to retire, Mr. Daintrees, utterly disap- pointed in the object of his visit, rose, took leave, and went away maligning his bad fortune. George remained for an hour or two, expressing much regret at Annie's 100 PRETTT MRS. GASTON. indisposition, but not as much as Mrs. Gaston thought he ought to haye expressed. At length he too went away, promising to return. Toward evening Annie's cough seemed worse, and she had some fever. Mrs. Gaston then became alarmed, and, without telling Annie, wrote a note to Dr. Williams, her old family physician at Waterford, requesting him to come and see the invalid. " If Dr. Williams is absent, request Dr. Harrington to come," she said to the servant. And toward evening Dr. Harrington made his appear- ance, Dr. Williams having been called to some distance to see a patient. Mrs. Gaston stood for a moment looking at Ealph Harrington, whom she had not seen for a long time. It was impossible not to be struck with the contrast be- tween his present and his former self. All his jaunty air had disappeared ; his cheeks were thin, and he looked wan and old. "Why, what is the matter. Doctor!" exclaimed the lady. "The matter, madam ?" "You are so much thinner and paler 1" Harrington smiled — it was rather a sad smile. "Our profession is exacting, madam — night riding will tell upon the health. Miss Bell, I hope, is better ?" He very plainly desired to change the subject, and after informing him of Annie's symptoms, Mrs. Gaston went up to announce the doctor's presence. The young lady was lying in a morning wrapper upon a pile of PEETTT MES. QASTOK. 101 pillows, with her hair in some disorder, and her flushed cheek resting upon one hand. "Dr. Harrington has come, my dear," said Mrs. Gaston. " Shall I invite him up ?" "Dr. Harrington !" exclaimed Annie, turning redder than before. "Yes, my child. Dr. 'Williams was absent." "Dr. Harrington!" "Do you object to seeing him? It is nothing. His visit is purely professional, and " "Dr. Harrington !" Each of these exclamations had been uttered as it were unconsciously. "I can understand your feehngs, Annie," said Mrs. Gaston. " The doctor has been heretofore a young gen- tleman visitor in your eyes, and his new character startles you. But you need medical advice " "Oh! no, no. Auntie!" " I really must insist, my dear." She went firmly toward the door. "At least wait a few minutes, Auntie — my toilet! Think of my toilet !" Mrs. Gaston closed the door. No sooner had she done so than Annie rose quickly, ran to the mirror, bound up her hair, and had just completed these preparations and taken a seat upon a sofa when Mrs. Gaston and Dr. Har- rington made their appearance. Ealph Harrington was scarcely able to assume his professional coolness, but he did assume it, and said quietly : 103 PRETTY MKS. GASTON. " I am Sony to find you unwell, Miss Annie ; a trifle, I hope. Allow me to feel your pulse." "Oh! it is nothing, I assure you!" she exclaimed with a forced laugh. "Auntie is absurdly uneasy when- eyer I have a finger-ache ! " She held out her hand, and Dr. Harrington touched the blue vein on the wrist with his index and middle fingers. "A little fever," he said, "resulting from simple cold. You will be well, I hope, to-morrow. Miss Annie." Mrs. Gaston's countenance indicated the immense relief afforded her by these words. "Then there is no danger of pneumonia. Doctor ?" "None at all, madam, and you may dismiss all fears." "How happy you make me!" exclaimed the lady; " and George will be as glad as I am. Will you tell him on your return. Doctor ? He was here this morning." A singular expression came to Harrington's face. He inclined his head rather stiffly, and said : "I will, with great pleasure, madam." He then rose, and said : "I will leave a prescription. Can I write it down- stairs, madam ? " "Yes, Doctor." Harrington turned toward Annie and their eyes met. For an instant they remained motionless, gazing at each other, and a slight tremor passed through the young lady's frame. Harrington's pale face flushed ; his lips opened, but no words issued from them. He simply bowed, and went out with Mrs. Gaston. PEETTX MRS. GASTON. 103 As the door closed, Annie's head fell upon the axm of the sofa, and she burst into tears. On the next morning Dr. 'WiUiams made his appear- ance at The Hollies. He had been to see a patient ten or fifteen miles from "Waterford, he said, when about midnight Dr. Harrington had reached the house and ioformed him of Miss BeU's iadisposition, expressing a wish that, as he. Dr. "WiUiams, was the family physi- , cian of Mrs. Gaston, he would treat the case. "A mere cold, my dear madam," he said to Mrs. Gas- ton, after feehng Annie's pulse; "and Miss Annie will be well in three days." The interyiew had taken place in the parlor, whither Annie had insisted upon going. Had she expected Dr. Ealph Harrington ? An hour after the departure of the old physician, Annie was looking out of the window when she saw George Cleave ride into the grounds. Her proceeding thereupon was singular. In the morning she had declared herself perfectly well. She now rose quietly and said : "Auntie, I belieye I feel a little badly, and would rather not see any company. Will you tell George ? " Having made this request. Miss Aunie BeU strolled out of the room. Once in the passage she began to walk rapidly. Then as Cleave approached the house she flew up-stairs, and disappeared in her chamber, closing the door behind her. 104 PBETTY MRS. GASTOlf. CHAPTER XVIII. HAEEIKGTON ANNOUNCES HIS INTENTION TO LEATE WATEKEOED. THEEE days after these scenes, Dr. Ealph Harring- ton was walking up and down in his office, about twilight, smoking a cigar and eridently reflecting. His habit of smoking had grown upon him of late, and he was seldom without a pipe or a cigar between his lips. The slow and measured promenade to and fro had con- tinued for some time, when the door opened and George Cleaye came in. "Take a seat, George," said Harrington; "you'll And a cigar on the table." He then continued his walk. Cleave seating himself but declining the cigar. "I am glad you came, old fellow," said Harrington, " as I want to talk with somebody. I am going to leave "Waterford." Cleave turned his head quickly. "Leave "Waterford?" * Harrington nodded. " The fact is, I can't afford to stay. I am not doing PEETTT MES. GASTOK. , 105 as well as I think I can do elsewhere. Sorry to go, but I am compelled to." Cleave's countenance, at this announcement, expressed the greatest consternation and regret. "You can't he in earnest, Ealph!" he exclaimed. ""Why, you are succeeding better than any young doctor in the country^ — everybody says that ! It is absurd to be going away. Leave "Waterf ord ? You astonish me ! " Harrington shook his head. " Can't stay," he said coolly. "Every man must look out for his career, my dear fellow. I am only dragging along here, losing my best years. I don't Uke to leave you, kind friends all, but I must pull up stakes, my son ! " Harrington spoke in his habitual tone of lazy indiffer- ence, and seemed to be smiling. Cleave looked at him as well as the dim light would permit. He was quite thin and pale, but all his old spirit of brave resolution was plainly in him. "What's the use of staying?" he added. "I have some talent they say, and some day I may wish — to marry. What probability is there of making sufficient income for that here ? True, marriage is not the chief end of existence, but then the fancy takes a man with almost absolute certainty before he's forty, to indulge in that dangerous luxury, and it may seize upon me ! " The slight accent of irony, satire, whatever word ex- pressed it, was plainer in the voice. "True, I don't think of it now," Harrington added again, "but — ^but here I am boring you, old fellow. I must go," 106 PEETTY MES. 6AST0K. Cleave had listened without a word. It was perfectly evident that he was watching the speaker. ""Well," he said quietly, "let us not speak any further of this at the moment. To come to another subject — my own affairs." " Tour affairs ?" " If anybody goes away, I think it ought to be me." " You ? What an absurdity ! Tou are the luckiest feUow I know, George. You are engaged to be married to — to the woman you love — and you know my opinion of her." "You forget my poverty." "That's nothing." " "Which proves, Ealph, that you are the most consis- tent of reasoners. Just now you argued triumphantly, in your own estimation, that money was necessary to marriage, and you must go elsewhere to make money." " The case is different." " It is the same. But to cease that discussion, I want to speak of my own affairs, as I said." ""Well, speak, George." " I am going to request Miss Annie BeU to terminate our engagement." "WJiatf" Cleave repeated his words. "Well," said Harrington, a little agitated, "wonders never cease ! " He had stopped abruptly in his promenade at George's words. He now resumed his deliberate walk. "Is it possible," he said, "that you are going to a PRETTY MRS. 'GASTOK. 107 young lady to say, * I love you no longer, and can't marry you?"' "No, I am going to say, ' Tou love me no longer, and wish to te released from an engagement i^ich. you re- gret.'" Harrington sliook his head. When he spoke, his Toice faltered a little. "Take care, George. This is a ticklish business. What reason have you to think Miss Bell is anxious to he off?" " A hundred reasons, which it is unnecessary to state — among the rest, that she avoids me whenever she can do so ; is everything that an engaged young lady ought not to he ; and only does not speak because she shrinks from an apparent breach of faith ! " Harrington continued to walk up and down in silence. " Well," he said at length, in a low tone, " and you — what vnU you do, my dear fellow? Blow out your brains ? " Cleave did not reply for some moments. " Do you remember what you told me the other day about Marian Ormby ?" he said at length in a very low voice. "What was that?" " That she had acted under constraint in breaking off with me— had been forced by the tyranny of her father to deny herself when I came ?" "Well, yes— and I said more ; that the poor thing was breaking her heart at the prospect of being forced to marry this Mr. Gartrell, whom she abhors." 108 PRETTY MRS. GASTON. George Cleave nodded. " Now, then, you ought to know whether I am wilKng or unwilling to be ofE with Annie. The simple fact is, that engagement was an awful blunder. I was piqued, angry, wretched, and at The Hollies I found consolation; Annie took 'pity on me — that's all. The crowning mis- fortune is that — I love Marian Ormby more than ever." Harrington knit his brows, but could not suppress the joy in his eyes. ''And you are going to say so ?" "Yes." "To— Annie?" "Yes." Harrington controlled the throbbing of his heart by an effort, and said : "Well, the interview, I think, will be curious ; some- thing like a story book ! You must act after your own views, George; I can't advise you. Suppose you come and tell me the result ? " "I will, most certainly." The darkness had come. Harrington's cigar glowed quickly and nervously, pufE by pufE. "It will interest a cool,' careless old fellow like me to hear how it turns out, George," he said. PBBTTY MES, GASTON. 109 OHAPTEE XIX. THE WOES OE DAIUTEEES. THEOUGHOUT the whole foUowing day George Cleave was in the most absent frame of mind conceivable, and his eyes would remain fixed for hours together upon the same page of the law-book which he was reading — even upon the same sentence. He sat in one comer of Mr. Jobson's office, where his studies were prosecuted. Before the great green-baize table sat Mr. Jobson. Mr. Jobson raised his head. "I don't like this Mr. Gartrell," he said aloud, ad- dressing the walls of his office; ''and who is this Brown?" Cleave raised his eyes. "What did you say, Mr. Jobson ?" The old lawyer rose. " I say, I don't like your cousin, Mr. Allan Gartrell ; and I don't like Brown ! Brown is still there. What is he doing there ? " This was a poser. George smiled and said : "He is agent of a lumber company, I believe, and came to buy timber." 110 PEETTY MES. GASTOK. "He is nothing of the sort, my dear sir," said Mr. Jobson, knitting his brows and wiping his pen. "There is some mystery about Brown, and I wish to heayen we had not given up that estate. " Mr. Jobson said "We." His feeling toward George was really paternal now, when the young man's fortunes were under a cloud ; and he had attempted vainly to in- duce him to come and live with him — the amount for his board and lodging to be paid when couTenient ; say in twenty years — without interest. "Very well," said Mr. Jobson, after gazing with ex- treme sternness upon an opposite book-shelf where the demon of dust seemed to have taken up its reign ; " I'll say no more at the present time on the subject of Gartrell and — Brown. I am now going to see Mrs. Gaston. There is just time to return before dark." "You have business with her, Mr. Jobson ?" "Yes ; to read her the rough draft of a deed for some land she is about to purchase." George closed his book. " I will go with you." The ghost of a smile flitted across the parchment face of Mr. Jobson. "Your business, I suppose, wiU be with — the other members of the family." "Yes," said George quietly. Mr. Jobson groaned. "To think that you might have kept Cleaveland if you had only arranged that affair in time ! " he said. Everything was an "affair" with Mr. Jobson. PKETTY MRS. GASTON. Ill " There was not time," returned Cleave in the same quiet tone; "and now .as you are getting ready, I'll order my horse and go with you." The sun was sinking toward the woods as Mr, Jobson and George rode up to The HoUies, where masses of i foliage, flowers, and emerald sward were bathed in the rich, red light. They saw a horse at the rack — and George smiled. They dismounted and entered — there was Mr. Jack Daintrees, who had not arrived more than three minutes before them. Mrs. Gaston had not had time since his arrival to come down-stairs. When Mr. Jack Daintrees beheld the forms of the two visitors, a muttered exclamation might have been dis- tinguished by any one in his immediate vicinity ; and an expression of the deepest gloom diffused itself over his countenance. The reason was that Mr. Jack Daintrees was the victim of misfortune, the sport of fate, a puppet in the unrelenting hand of destiny. Day after day he had vainly essayed to secure that much-desired private interview with Mrs. Gaston. "What had that fair lady said, beside the flre in the swamp ? Why, that if she had to utter a certain "word" ardently desired by Mr. Dain- trees, she should prefer to utter it "at TJie Hollies!" What had the "glance of her eye" indicated as she rolled away homeward on that night ? An unmistakable intention not to say " No ! " And ever since that stormy but brilliant moment, Mr. Jack Daintrees had been struggling to secure the desired interview — and incessantly something had occurred to prevent it; Annie's sickness, George's visits, a severe 112 PEBTTT MES. GASTON. headache under which Mrs. Gaston labored — always something ! On this evening, Mr. Daintrees had regarded his success as certain. ISo one had preceded him ; Annie was well ; the servant said Mrs. Gaston was quite well ; and Mrs. Gaston had sent word that she would be down in a few minutes. And now ! — Here was George, and the hated Jobson ! Jobson on "business," no doubt! Business at such a moment ! "When Mrs. Gaston made her appearance in a few min- utes, clad in an exquisite evening dress, with a bow of pink ribbon clearly relieved against her pretty neck, a white rose in her braided hair, and a faint smile just dimpling her blushing cheeks, Mr. Jack Daintrees expe- rienced sensations which were too deep for words, and felt a violent desire to fall upon Mr. George Cleave and Mr. Jobson, and put them to death then and there ! Mr. Jobson having bowed stiffly and exchanged a few commonplaces on the subject of the weather, said : "1 have come as you requested, madam, but rather late, I am afraid. The deed you wish proved a more difficult matter than I supposed. It will- require your attention for two or three hours, I fear." Mr. Daintrees nearly groaned aloud. He glanced round. The sun was on the horizon, and its last rays darted through the window. George and Annie had dis- appeared — ^with the view of looking at the flowers — and Mr. Daintrees was plainly de trop. With a heavy heart and the most plaintive of expressions, he rose, declaring that as he had simply called to inquire after Mrs. Gas- PEETTY MES. GASTOBT. 113 ton's health on his way home — ^which was a fearful false- hood — ^he would continue his ride, doing himself the pleasure to call again. What thereupon did Mrs. Gaston do ? Mrs. Gaston sent Mr. Jack Daiutrees away with a bosom expanding with joy. The fair lady rose, gave him her small hand, pressed his own — actually pressed it — ^blushed, and mur- mured sotto voce, unheard by Mr. Jobson : ''I am sorry that — you can not — stay." A glance accompanied the words which flooded the soul of Mr. Jack Daintrees with happiness unspeakable. He bowed low over the hand, threw an expression of sad and uncomplaining tenderness into his eyes, and went away in triumph. George and Annie were nowhere to be seen. 114 PKBTTT MES. GASTON. CHAPTEE XX. HOW HABBIKGTON DECLARED THAT HE HAD GB0W3>r TEN TEARS TOTJKGER. PRECISELY at midniglit George Cleaye opened the door of Ralph Harrington's office, and entered, closing the door after him. Harrington was half reclin- ing in an arm-chair, smoking as usual. Through the window streamed a flood of moonlight — the only light in the apartment. "Well, old fellow," said Harrington with an unwonted tremor in his Toiee, "here you are, and you have had the luck to catch me Just as I was going to turn in. Sit down ! " Cleave did so, and rephed : " Let us leave all sorts of pretences, Ralph, and have no concealments ! You know you were waiting for me, and that you are dying to know the result of my inter- view at The Hollies ! " Harrington attempted a short laugh. " What a suspicious fellow you are, my boy ! / dying to know how afEairs have turned out yonder between you and your sweetheart ? What have I to do with it beyond PEETTT MKS. GASTON. 115 mere friendship for you ; the simple desire, certainly a natural one in a friend, to see you well out of this — love snarl ?" CleaTe looked at his friend, -whose face utterly belied his words. " My dear Ralph," he said, " do you think that I am like the persons spoken of in the Scriptures, who have eyes and see not, ears and hear not ? You have grown pale and thin ; your voice, once so strong and hearty, has lost its old tones. I can see and hear that. But let us leave this subject for the present." "Most willingly. The fact is, George, you are dream- ing!" Unfortunately Harrington's face and voice completely justified Cleave's criticisms. The face was agitated and the voice shook a little. " What you allude to, George," he added, " is easily explained. I am overworked, and nothing puUs a man down Kke loss of rest. The inhabitants of this agreeable neighborhood insist on being taken sick invariably in the night ; and I have no sooner turned in, congratulating myself upon at least one night's rest, than a ring comes at my night bell, and there I'm in the saddle for a ride of ten miles, perhaps ! " " I thought we had agreed to drop the discussion of that point, my dear Ealph." "True ; excuse me." "Let me tell you about my interview with Annie." "Well," said Harrington in a low voice, " let us hear about that." 116 PKBTTT MRS. GASTON". "Everything was explained, arranged, and ended in an hour. I walked out with Annie, and when we were out of sight of the house in the groye, made a clean breast of it, Ealph. I told her that it was perfectly plain that she regretted her engagement ; that reiiection and observation had convinced me that she had promised to marry me from compassion and pitying tenderness for me in my forlorn condition ; and that such a union, on such a basis, would prove miserable to us both — a blunder which could never be righted. As her friend and adopted brother, therefore, I released her from her engagement." "Yes," said Harrington. " Then came the reply, Ealph. I won't repeat Annie's words, words full of affection and uttered in her frank, true, earnest voice. In the most delicate hut the plainest manner, she informed me that I had truthfully read her heart ; perhaps it would he better to terminate the en- gagement — was I sure that it would not distress me ? She hoped not ? She loved me dearly ! then came some tears, and renewed assurances of affection which, as they were simply of sisterly regard, I can allude to, Ealph." "You did not allude then to Marian ?" came in the same low voice from Harrington. Cleave colored and tried to laugh. " I did not utter her name. Why say to Annie, ' I am too much attached to some one else to wish my engage- ment with you to continue ? ' Her own disinclination was reason enough." "You are right." PEETTY MRS. GASTON. 117 " I am glad you think so." " So — ^your engagement with Miss Annie is definitely at an end ? " Harrington could not suppress a tremor of the voice, through which broke forth a great and sudden joy. " Completely at an end, and I assure you, Ealph, I feel all the satisfaction of a man who has extricated himseK from a false position." "And— Miss Bell?" "lam compelled to say, unflattering as the avowal is to myself, that Annie could not conceal her happiness ! " Harrington was silent, but Cleave could hear him drawing long breaths. " There was no sort of doubt about my little sister's satisfaction," added Cleave, "and I assure you she never looked so beautiful, and she is beautiful." . " Very beautiful ! " muttered Harrington. "And now I have the pleasure of knowing that my visits will not make her run up-stairs to avoid me, I shaU always have a charming little friend to tell my troubles to — to go to for consolation. You should try, yourself, to secure such a friend, Ealph." "I!" " Why not ? What for instance would be more rational than that you should give Annie the opportunity of brightening two people ? You are pining away here for want of female society. Come ! ride with me to-morrow to The Hollies." "I!— to The Hollies!" "Why not?" 118 PKETTY MBS. GASTON. Harrington's face filled with blood. " The family are your excellent good friends. Their smiles will cheer you." A strange agitation passed through the frame of the young physician. Joy was infusing itself like a subtle essence into his life. "I will — ^I wiU think of it, George," he said. Cleave, in spite of his own sadness, could not suppress a smile. " You may as weU pass your time as agreeably as pos- sible before — ^you leave Waterford." Harrington turned suddenly and exclaimed : " "Why should I be playing a part with you, George ? Why am I making a fool of myself ? N"ow that I know your engagement is broken, I can tell you what perhaps you know — that I love the very ground she walks upon ! That I have been breaking my heart about her ! " "Well — that is now useless, Ealph; and listen! — try if you can't arrange with my little sister to be — my brother-in-law ! " Harrington thrilled suddenly. " I don't dare to think of it ! Let us speak of your affairs, George. I am going to Bayview to-morrow, and I wiU tell somebody there all about you. Don't despair ! Patience, and shuffle the cards ! " 1 Harrington uttered a laugh so young and Joyful that it sounded like a boy's. " I believe you have made me ten years younger, old fellow ! " he exclaimed. PKETTT MRS. GASTOKT. 119 CHAPTEE XXI. ALLAN GARTRELL, ESQ. ON" the morning after this interview between Har- rington and Cleave Mr. Allan GartreU came out of his fine mansion of Cleayeland, drew on a handsome pair of riding gauntlets, mounted a superb horse held respectfully by his groom, and set off at a rapid gallop in the direction of Bayview. Allan GartreU, Esq., was what is called a "fine-look- ing man," about twenty-eight, with a ruddy countenance indicative of high living, a vigorous person, and English side whiskers, black and curling. Mr. GartreU might have been called a "fine-looking man," though his ap- pearance was rather rakish, and the only thing that detracted from his personal charms, was an ugly-looking scar upon his right temple. He was clad in the height of the fashion, and had a joyous air which seemed the result of a good conscience and a good digestion. He went on rapidly humming the air of a little French song, and in due time reached Bayview, from which, as Mr. GartreU entered, issued Dr. Ealph Hamngton. Harrington's frequent visits to Bayview had aroused 120 PRETTY MES. GASTOlir. that gossiping report that he was paying his addresses to Marian. His business was much more prosaic. A valued servant had been taken sick, some time before, and as Mr. Ormby had conceived a great dislike to old Dr. Wil- liams, Dr. Harrington had been sent for, and had con- tinued to attend the sick servant. The two men coolly saluted each other with that inde- finable reserve which clearly indicates all want of sympa- thy. Each felt that the other was not to his taste. Harrington did not fancy Mr. Allan Gartrell, and Mr. Allan Gartrell seemed to understand the fact perfectly. They therefore bowed coolly, the physician departed, and the last "new-comer entered. Opening the library door with the air of a man entirely at home, Mr. Gartrell found himself face to face with Mr. Jobson, who was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, his spectacles on his nose, a paper in his hand, and engaged in conversation with Mr. Ormby. A single glance at Mr. Ormby was sufiQcient to show that that gentleman was in an extremely gloomy state of mind. His brow was lowering, his general expression downcast. He rose hastily as Mr. Gartrell came in, and greeted him with some confusion, adding that he would probably find the drawing-room more pleasant— Miss Ormby would— there Mr. Ormby stopped, clearing his throat. Mr. Gartrell bowed and smiled. He was evidently a gentleman of tact. " Don't let me disturb you, my dear sir. I really beg pardon, business is business, and," he added with a light laugh, " I must say, at the expense of politeness, that I PEETTT MRS. GASTOK. 131 would rather see Miss Ormby than, even two such worthy- gentlemen as yourself and Mr. Jobson, Mr. Ormby ! " The old lawyer did not respond to this pleasantry. He looked at Mr. Gartrell out ot the upper part of his eyes above his spectacles, and said nothing. The airy Mr. Gartrell did not or would not see the lawyer's cool glance. He sauntered into the parlor, and having summoned a servant, who was directed to inform Miss Ormby of Mr. Gartrell's presence, Mr. Ormby re- turned to the library, closing the door carefully behind him. "And the decree is now final, decisive, not to be as- sailed ? Good heavens, sir ! " said Mr. Ormby, losing all his habitual pomposity. "Entirely," replied Mr. Jobson, "the motion for a new trial has been overruled, and I consider it my duty to say, Mr. Ormby, that an appeal ^nll result in nothing; the shght remnant of your property which the plaintiff in this action is willing to release will go, if you appeal, and that I understand you to say is all you can look to for the support of your family." " The sole means left ! and that a mere pittance ! " Mr. Ormby sank back in his seat, the picture of despair. "Is there no hope ?" he exclaimed. " N"one, I am truly sorry to say, Mr. Ormby. It is my duty to tell you that there is no means whatever of pre- venting the sale of Bayyiew, and your only course is to accept the proposition of Mr. Russell, surrender the property, and take what he offers you. There may be a moderate sum after the payment of the debt, and I would 133 PEETTY MBS. GASTOK. suggest to you the purchase of the small house and grounds near "Waterford. You will then have a home, if an humble one." Mr. Ormby coTered his face with his hands and groaned. He was at last face to face with ruin. He had heavily encumbered his estate nearly twenty years before, the interest had accumulated from year to year, and his creditor had at last demanded payment, and Bayview must go. Mr. Ormby remained silent for half an hour, during which time Mr. Jobson closely scanned the paper which he held. "There is no hope whatever," the lawyer said at length, " and I had better inform Mr. Eussell's counsel that his proposition is accepted." " Wait till to-morrow ! " groaned Mr. Ormby; "I will then call and see you. I must reflect. Perhaps — ^yes, yes ! " he added eagerly. " Wait until to-morrow, Mr. Jobson ! " And again he murmured the word "perhaps — " look- ing as he did so toward the drawing-room. Was he thinking of Mr. Gartrell ? Mr. Jobson bowed and took his leave. As he disap- peared, Mr. Ormby rang for a servant. " Tell Mr. Gartrell that I should be glad to see him before he goes," he said. PEBTTT HES. GASTOir. 183 CHAPTER XXII. WHAT M02OiY-TE0UBLE BRINGS SOME MEN" TO. THE mterriew between Mr. Gartrell and Marian Ormby on this morning was of a painful char- acter — so painful that we shall spare the reader a detailed account of it. For some time now Mr. Gartrell had been the avowed suitor of the young lady. When he made his appearance and took possession of CleaTcland, Mr. Ormby had yisited him, invited him to Bayview — and this invitation Mr. Gartrell had promptly accepted. A week afterwards he repeated his visit, expressed himself delighted with the place, the house, the elegance of everything at Bayview — and thereafter his visits became still more frequent, and it was perfectly obvious that these visits were paid to Marian Ormby. The poor girl was pale and thin, but very beautiful 5 and Mr. Gartrell no doubt concluded that a young lady of such attractions, high position, and worldly advantages as the only child of the wealthy Mr. Ormby would make a most appropriate mistress of the Cleaveland establish- ment. He, therefore, coolly proposed himself to Mr. 134 PEBTXT MES. GASTOK. Onnby as his future son-in-la-w, received a response ap- proving of his proposition ; then he redoubled his atten- tions, and on this morning offered himself in an impas- sioned speech to the young lady. Marian flushed to her temples and promptly refused him. Up to this moment she had struggled against her father's despotic authority in silence ; had listened in a sort of dumb despair to his arguments in favor of Mr. Gartrell, and had not flatly refused obedience. Awed and crushed well nigh by this tyrannical will, she had not dared to rebel ; but now when the question of actual union with one whom she absolutely disliked was pre- sented to her she discarded every other thought, and gave Mr. Allan Gartrell a "No !" so distinct and unmistak- able that he colored with anger. " "Well, madam ! " he exclaimed, " I see I need say no more ! I will, therefore, bid you good morning 1 " " Good morning, sir," said Marian, rising and slightly incUning her pale face. Mr. Gartrell went out of the drawing-room, and was about to leave the house in a rage, when a servant in the hall gave him the message from Mr. Ormby. He hesitated, a singular expression of cunning came to his face, and he went into the library. An hour afterwards Mr. Allan Gartrell came out of the library, and going to the place where his horse stood mounted and rode away. Then Mr. Ormby, who had been standing at the window of the library looking after him, rang the bell • a servant came and Mr. Ormby said : PRETTY MRS. GASTON^. las " Say to Miss Ormby that I wish to see her." Marian promptly came ; the door closed, and with the exception of some stifled sobs from the hbrary, no sound for the next hour disturbed the stillness at Bayview. Then the door again opened, the girl came out looking as pale as death and went up-stairs, and Mr. Ormby made "GOOD MOBNING, Sm," SAID MABIAN, RISING. his appearance behind her, red, flurried, gloomy, and in- deed the picture of despair. "There was no other course !" he muttered. "No other course ! " And taking Ms stick from its place in the corner, from 126 PBETTT MES. SASTOM". the force of long habit, he -went through the front door, and out upon the lawn, trembling, breathing heayily, and indeed appearing to be about to suffocate. What had taken place in these two interviews ? In this world — outside the pkges of romances — men are not entirely bad as they are not entirely good. Mr. Ormby was a mixture, and — driven to the wall by his pecuniary troubles — allowed the bad to get the mastery of him for the time. He had learned from Mr. G-artrell the result of the interview with Marian ; pooh-poohed the idea of abandoning the affair in consequence of the mere caprice of a girl ; assured the suitor that a few words from him- self would set matters to rights, and dismissed Mr. Gar- trell with the assurance that he might call again in two days, when all the trouble would have disappeared. Mr. Ormby loved his daughter, and believed perhaps that he was acting for her real welfare. Her union with Cleave he regarded as out of the question, her marriage with Gartrell even at the expense of some disinclination as the better course ; she would be the mistress of a fine establishment, and not be dragged down with his own falling fortunes. So he sent Mr. Allan Gartrell away with that understanding— not aUuding even to his money difficulties, and sending for Marian proceeded to "use his parental authority." Let us pass over this interview as over the first. When Mr. Ormby had demonstrated his good-sense and real affection by urging the marriage with Gartrell, and Marian declared that nothing would ever induce her to take such a step, Mr. Ormby grew angry and insisted. PRETTY MRS. GASTOS". 127 When Marian exclaimed that she could not and would not, Mr. Ormby, more angry than before, threatened her with his parental displeasure. When she still refused, he bade her go and reflect upon his words, and prepare to obey him. Marian had then gone to her room, flushed and trem- bling, and Mr. Ormby no less flushed and trembling even more had walked out to indulge his wretchedness where no eye could see him. Once in her chamber, the unfortunate young lady sat down, leaned her elbow on the arm of her chair, her forehead in her hand, and remained for more than an hour, gazing with fixed and vacant eyes upon the carpet. What was passing in her mind ? No sound escaped from her lips to indicate the current of her secret thoughts, but the laboring bosoin as she drew long breaths, the flushed cheeks, and the tearless eyes fixed in that vacant stare seemed to indicate that she was slowly approaching some resolution from which she shrank, but which every instant gathered strength. When at length she rose and looked around her with a vague, yearning, piteous glance, these words issued from her lips : " Nothing else is left me ! " 128 PEETTT MKS. GASTON". CHAPTEE XXIII. ME. GAETRELIi AND HIS FEIBISTD ME. BBOWK. WHEK Mr. Allan Gartrell reached Cleaveland after his return from Bayview, he beheld the portly- Mr. Brown slowly promenading upon the great portico in front of the mansion, flourishing his cane, swinging his shoulders, and gazing around him with a smile fuU of friendly good-humor. Mr. Brown seemed to have found his quarters at CleaTeland agreeable, and not to contemplate an early departure. He had, indeed, the air of a gentleman per- fectly satisfied with his surroundings, in no haste to change them and entirely "at home." As he gazed upon the fertile fields extending in front of the great mansion perched upon its lofty hill, and allowed his idle glance to wander to the distant riyer seen through a vista of the woods, his appearance was that of a wealthy landed proprietor, not ill-pleased at surveying his ample posses- sions. As soon as Mr. Gartrell's horse's hoofs resounded upon the avenue a groom appeared, and was ready to receive his horse, which the rider abandoned to him, walking rapidly thereafter up the broad, marble steps. PEETTT MKS. GASTON. 139 Mr. Brown liad walked half the length of the portico, and was now between the two middle piUars which rose on each side of the steps. His cane was held perpendicu- lar, the ferule resting upon the porch ; his ample waist- coat protruded ia front ; his head, surmounted by its tall, black, beayer hat, was slightly bent toward one shoulder, and Mr. Brown smiled. "Ah ! ah !" said Mr. Brown ia a jocose Toice. "So here we are, my young friend ! We hare been riding abroad to see our sweetheart ? " "Yes," said Mr. Gartrell, cutting some atoms of dust from his elegant boots with his ivory-handled riding- whip, " and a cursed slow business it has been, my dear Brown!" " Slow, eh ? " said Mr. Brown inquiringly. "With the young lady at least," said Mr. Gartrell walking toward the front door. "The fact is, my dear friend, I haye been flatly refused — think of my being refused ! " " It is incredible !" "But luckily, the paterfamilias intervened — declared that the damsel's views were not his views, that young ladies never knew their own minds — and the affair is where it was before or in a better condition. Mere maiden modesty, you see, on her part." " So you are going to be a married man after all, eh ? my dear Gartrell ? " "I think BO." " Ton are going to be the happy mate of this hand- some damsel — you say she is handsome." 130 PEETTT MBS. GASTOST. "Yes, very." " And the owner of her papa's acres, since he has no other children." Mr. Gartrell knit his brows and was silent for a mo- ment. " I really don't know about that, or at least what the extent of the said acres will be. I had an interview with papa — a lawyer was there when I arriyed. Do you know. Brown, the fancy strikes me that the old man is embar- rassed." "Embarrassed ?" " Yes, and that will neyer do." Mr. Brown smiled sweetly. " You are right, but perhaps you are mistaken." "It is possible, but come in. This is dry talk, and I'm as thirsty as a fish. Any one called ? " " Nobody, my dear Allan ; let me call you by your first name ! I yearn to do so. My affection for you, my dear Allan ! but you will laugh at me. Come, I think you 6aid champagne ! "lis my favorite beverage." Mr. Gartrell laughed a rather reckless laugh, and led the way into the superb dining-room, where a silent and respectful servant quickly opened a bottle of champagne, and then another, and then another. It was an interesting spectacle to behold Mr. Brown partaking of this liquid. He held out his glass, watched the sparkling beverage flowing into it, raised the glass as the liquid foamed to the brim, said : " Thank you, my friend ! " to the servant ; and then, having first inspected the color of the wine by holding it up between his eye PKETTT MKS. GASTON. 131 and the light, permitted it slowly to disappear down his ample throat. "How obliging in your late worthy uncle to provide this charming vintage for his dear nephew, yourself," said Mr. Brown smihng ; " excellent man ! his taste in wines was irreproachable." "He never thought of me, my dear Brown," said Mr. "his tttt.at. titI " Gartrell, laughing ; "my cousin George was his favorite, as you no doubt know. A good boy, my cousin George ! His health!" And Mr. Gartrell emptied his second bottle and grew red in the face. Mr. Brown's countenance was not flushed. That gentleman never changed. Sometimes — 133 PEETTY MES. GASTOW. after his fourth or fifth bottle — he grew solemn and gave serious advice ; he never grew tipsy, which Mr. Gartrell was now becoming. "By the by. Brown," said' Mr. Gartrell, "I met Mr. Daintrees, a gentleman of the neighborhood, to-day, and he invited me to dine with him, with some friends, to- morrow." "Ah?" said Mr. Brown. "I accepted, and told him that I had a very dear friend on a visit to my house — I said a very dear friend. Brown ! " " Why not ? And I am invited ? " "You are invited!" said Mr. Gartrell, with imposing solemnity, steadying himself by grasping a comer of the table. "How gratified I feel!" said Mr. Brown, laying his hand upon his waistcoat and smiling. ' "You ought to be, you know. Brown," said Mr. Gar- trell in a voice which had grown a little thick— "for the first time, you are moving in good society. Brown— your origin. Brown, is— excuse me. Brown— your origin, you know, is— low ! Anybody can see that." Mr. Brown laughed heartily. "You are right, my dear friend," he said, "and I am only too proud to associate on equal terms with so elegant a young gentleman as yourself." Mr. Gartrell staggered slightly, and suddenly scowling, observed : ° "Curse you-Brown-you are always laughing at a man ! " o & PEETTT MES. GASTON. 133 " Laughing, my dear feUow ? Not in the least. Why should I laugh?" " You had better not— I'd punch your old nob, Brown 1 "What do you mean by laughing at me, I say ?" And Mr. Allan Gartrell poured out another glass of champagne, which he drained; after which he burst into loud laughter. "Vive lajoie! old fellow!" he exclaimed. "What a ]oUy good thing it is to have you here. Brown ! You are my best friend— I love you. Brown ; I love you like a brother!" Mr. Brown wiped his eyes with a yellow bandanna handkerchief. "Don't talk so, my dear friend! — you move me to tears ! " "Fact ! And you — take an interest — I — that is you — jolly good f eUows — every one — ha ! ha ! " After which Mr. G-artreU permitted his head to decline upon the arm of his red velvet chair, and muttering in- articulately slept. Mr. Brown placed his glass upon the table and gazed at Mr. Gartrell for some moments in silence. His ex- pression was singular, and very difficult to describe. He ended by nodding his head slowly about six times, smil- ing sweetly, and leaving the apartment. As he did so, a servant came into the hall bringing the letter bag. There were but two letters, one for Mr. Gartrell on some neighborhood business — a fact which Mr. Brown ascertained after the departure of the servant, by adroitly opening it without in the least tearing the 134 PBETTY MBS. GASTON'. enrelope, and then re-sealing it skiKully — and one to himself. This he read with close attention, as also a paper enclosed in it ; after which he drew from his pocket a match-case, lit a match, and carefully burned the letter. "Well, the game is in my own hands now," he said. " Shall I play my trump ?" PKBTTT MRS. GASTON. 135 CHAPTER XXIV. JACK DATNTEEES EKTEETAINS SOME FBIEKDS. WHEN Mr. Jack Daintrees invited his friends to a bachelor dinner at The Lodge he prepared for that festivity with the utmost care. On the present occasion his saddle of mutton was superb, his old ham beyond all praise, his fowls puffed out with fat, and hia wines and stronger drinks adapted to the most fastidious palates. It was Mr. Daintrees's habit to give about four dinners a year, and to invite every gentleman of the neighbor- hood. On this occasion, as we have seen, he had in- cluded Mr. Gartrell, whom he scarcely knew, and Mr. Gartrell's friend, Mr. Brown. These gentlemen arriving late completed the party, and the convives having duly observed the bad ceremony of drinking toddy on their arrival, sat down to dinner ; after which they adjourned to the drawing-room, and lighting cigars, began to play whist. A bowl of punch had been brewed in a huge variegated China affair, an heirloom in the Daintrees family, as was the antique silver ladle used to fiU the glasses ; and this 136 PEETTT MBS. GASTON'. inspiring liquid soon began to tell upon the tongues and in the faces of the guests. They laughed, uttered an hundred jests, and a gay hubbub ensued, which all at once, ho-wever, became stilled — the company gathering around a table in one corner, where Mr. Allan Gartrell and a wealthy young planter of the neighborhood were playing a game of cards to themselves. On the table before them lay a large pile of bank-notes, and the figures " 100 " on a number of these notes indi- cated that the players were playing for high stakes. The group around them was striking. The gentlemen of the party, unused to such betting, lost sight of their Jests and fixed their eyes intently upon the players. Every face was earnest, and more than one person protested in a low voice at this introduction of so exciting a mode of playing into the quiet assemblage of friends and neigh- bors. One personage only seemed to be highly amused at the proceeding, and this personage was Mr. Brown. He stood with the thumb of his right hand inserted in the armhole of his ample waistcoat ; a quiet smile upon his face ; his eyes fixed steadily, without winking, upon Mr. Gartrell ; with a slight drawing down of the corners of his lips, which was very striking. Suddenly the young planter threw down his cards, exclaiming : " I'll play no more ! You have the devil's own luck, sir!" He rose from the table, turning red and then pale. The amount which he had lost exceeded two thousand dollars, received on that day from the sale of his wheat. PKETTY MES. GASTON. 137 Mr. Grartrell quietly thrust the bank-notes into his pocket, rose in his turn, and approaching the speaker, said : " Wiat do you mean by that expression, sir ? — that I have played unfairly ! " The young planter was about to reply when a solid 'so OFFENCE IS MEANT BY EITHER GENTLEMAH, I AM SURE." figure interposed between him and his adversary — the figure of Mr. Brown ; and that gentleman said quietly : "No ofEence is meant by either gentleman, I am sure." 138 PEETTY MBS. GASTOIT. Half turning to Mr. Gartrell Mr. Brown added witli a peculiar shutting down of his eyelids, and a glance, keen, penetrating, and rapid as a flash of lightning, "Am I wrong?" Gartrell could not sustain the glance. His eyes fell and he muttered, "No ofEence meant !" "Honor is satisfied," Mr. Brown said coolly; "and now, Mr. Gartrell, as it is late, 'shall we return, sir ?" Gartrell looked moody and reluctant; but a second glance from Mr. Brown decided him. He bowed stiffly to the company and went out with his companion, accom- panied to the door by the hospitable Mr. Daintrees. No sooner had the two horsemen gotten out of sight of the house than Mr. Brown said : " How much did you win, my dear young friend ?" " Two thousand dollars." "The old trick?" Mr. Gartrell was silent a minute. "Well, yes — you are the very devil for keen eyes, Brown?" " That is my reputation, my dear sir ; and now I'll trouble you to hand me the roll of notes — a mere loan which, of course, I will repay." " Hand you the notes ! " "If agreeable." Mr. Gartrell burst forth into imprecations, in the midst of which Mr. Brown uttered a few quiet words in a very low tone. These words seemed to produce a remarkable effect upon Mr. Gartrell. He ceased to rage, PKBTTY MES. GASTOIT. 139 uttered an expiring growl, and drew forth the bank- notes, which he handed to his companion. Mr. Brown's proceeding thereupon was not compli- mentary. He carefully counted the notes and said : "Eighteen hundred — now for the other two !" Mr. Gartrell drew them from his sleeve with a low curse, and they were politely taken by Mr. Brown, who placed the entire amount in his breast-pocket — revealing as he did so the handle of a small revolver. "Well, that is done with, my dear friend," said Mr. Brown ; " and now let us talk. I must lecture you a little on your imprudence." 140 PRETTY MBS. GASTOK. CHAPTEK XXV. THE LAWTEE AND THE LUMBEK-AGElifT. WHEN Mr. Brown rose on the following morning, and after an elaborate toilet descended to tlie breakfast-room, he was the picture of smiling enjoyment, and beamed on all around him with serene good-humor. Not seeing his host, he inquired in a friendly manner of the silent and respectful dining-room servant whether his master had risen, and receiving the information that Mr. Gartrell had breakfasted an hour before, and ridden out to see the manager of his estate, Mr. Brown smiled once more, said, " "Well, James, I find I must breakfast by myself," and proceeded to partake of that meal with an excellent appetite. Mr. Brown then rose, and uttering a Httle sigh of con- tent, strolled forth upon the portico, looking around him with a pleased expression upon the landscape. "My young friend Gartrell has a really admirable property here," soliloquized the worthy Mr. Brown, in- dulging as he did so in his blandest smile; "how for- tunate he is ! what a fine thing it is to be born with a silver spoon in one's mouth ! I think my young friend must have made his appearance in this world with a roll of bank-notes in his infantile grasp ! And that reminds PRETTY MES. GASTOK. 141 me — I think I haTe about me something of that descrip- tion!" Mr. Brown inserted his hand between his ample waist- coat and his shirt, deftly unbuttoned a secret belt which never left him, and drew forth the bank-notes won on the day before by Mr. Gartrell. These he now proceeded to count ; after which he quickly restored them to their hiding-place. "AH right, as I supposed," he said; "my door was locked as usual during the night, but accidents some- times happen ! " Mr. Brown then went into the hall, put on his tall, black hat, took his large cane, and coming out again proceeded to walk to and fro upon the long portico, with the air of a gentleman enjoying and endeavoring to pro- mote still further a mild digestion. He had gone twice the length of the portico and had turned to continue his promenade, when the sound of hoofs upon the avenue attracted his attention. He looked up, saw a person on horseback, and this person dismounted and came up the steps, saying as he did so, in a stiff and formal voice : "Mr. Brown, I believe?" "At your service, sir," said Mr. Brown with a polite air ; " may I ask ? " "My name is Jobson — attorney-at-law from Water- ford." "Ah ! my dear sir, I am really dehghted — have often heard of you — and as a gentleman of the highest char- acter. Walk in, Mr. Jobson." Mr, Brown waved his hand in a cordial way ; ushered 143 PEETTY MBS. GASTOK. Mr. Jobson into the drawing-room; and they seated themselves in two easy chairs by the centre-table. Mr, Jobson looked more wiry than usual, and his glance was piercing and suspicious. Mr. Brown on the contrary was all smiles and sweetness — a bland good-humor ex- panded itseli oyer his full and smiling countenance, and his portly figure, even. " I called to see Mr. Gartrell on business, sir," said Mr. Jobson. " I regret to say that he is temporarily absent," said Mr. Brown. "Humph!" said Mr. Jobson. "But perhaps I might take his place, my dear sir," said Mr. Brown. " The proposal may surprise you, but I am an old and intimate friend of young Mr. Gartrell. I may say I am quite well acquainted with his private afEairs, and I think I may add, Mr. Jobson, that he seldom takes any business step, if I am near, without consulting me." Mr. Jobson's glance had not lost its suspicion, but there was a smiling frankness in Mr. Brown's manner which affected him in spite of himself. " Well, sir," he said, " I don't know that what I have to say to Mr. Gartrell is very confidential ; and as he is governed so much by your advice, I will proceed to speak of the business that has brought me." " Do so, my dear sir," said Mr. Brown. " I appreciate your confidence. " "You are probably aware, sir," continued Mr. Job- eon, "of the somewhat extraordinary character of the PEETTY MRS. GASTOK. 143 / late Mr. Oleave's will or rather of a codicil subsequently discovered. In Ms will this estate was left to Mr. Cleave, Junior, his nephew; in the codicil it was made, however, a condition that Mr. Cleave, Junior, should marry a Miss Bell before his twenty-fifth year or surrender the property to another nephew, Mr. Allan Gartrell." " I had heard of the codicil, my dear sir." "Well, sir, there was one defect in it. It was not worth the paper it was written upon, for there were no witnesses to the instrument — it was waste paper ; and yet young Mr. Cleave, acting from a mistaken sense of deli- cacy, surrendered the estate, and is now nearly penni- less!" At this statement Mr. Brown lost all his smiles, and looked at the speaker with unafEected astonishment. " Is it possible ! " he said. " Yes," said Mr. Jobson, " and Mr. Gartrell takes the estate; supplants Mr. Cleave with a young lady. Miss Ormby, to whom he was engaged to be married ; sees his cousin sunk in poverty without a care ; and does not give a thought to the fact that Mr. Cleave might have had this codicil set aside by simply moving his finger, in any court in this commonwealth. " " Humph ! humph ! humph ! " said Mr. Brown; " I am sorry to say, Mr. Jobson, that this makes out our friend Mr. Gartrell something like — I must say it — a — rascal ! " Mr. Jobson rose in his chair, exclaiming : "I honor you, sir! Yes, it was a most discreditable proceeding in Mr. Gartrell — most discreditable — and I 144 PEBTTT MRS. GASTON. have come here to-day, without Mr. Cleave's knowledge or consent, to say to Mr. Gartrell that he is bound in common honesty to release to his cousin a portion of this property — to make some fair compromise ; it is not yet too late, I meant to tell him, to file a bill ia chancery and open upon this whole question ! " Mr. Brown listened in silence. His face was thought- ful, and he slowly scraped his cheek with his fat fingers. Then he shook his head. "Mr. Jobson," he said, "you are an honest man." Mr. Jobson grunted a slight acknowledgment. " Shall I give you some advice ?" "What is that, sir?" " Leave this affair — tome." "To you, sir?" " To me. I will have something to say to you on the subject within — let me see — within, say the next ten days. " Mr. Jobson looked suspiciously at the speaker, but Mr. Brown's countenance was impenetrable. " Upon one or two points," continued that gentleman, "I should be glad to have some information. Miss Ormby, you say, was engaged to be married to Mr. Cleave— why does she marry Mr. Gartrell ?" "Her father is forcing her to do so." "Why?" "Mr. Cleave is poor and Mr. Gartrell is rich." "Ah, yes! what a rascally affair!" said Mr. Brown with great candor ; "and I will find Miss Ormby at— that is to say, she resides at her father's ?" PEETTY MES. GASTOIf. 145 "Certainly." "There is also- another young lady concerned in this whole affair, sir ; a Miss Bell, I think it is ? " "Yes, the adopted daughter of Mr. Cleave, Senior, whom he wished his nephew to marry." " She is also a resident of this neighborhood ? " " She lives at The Hollies, the residence of her cousin, Mrs. Gaston, some miles from this place." " The Hollies, eh ? I can find it, I suppose." " You wish to see Miss Bell ?" Mr. Brown smiled sweetly and appeared to remember himself. " Not necessarily, my dear sir ; not necessarily. I am an old gentleman, you see — quite alone in the world — and I hke young faces. WeU, I believe this is all. And now, while I think of it, you have probably heard of my errand to this neighborhood; can you inform me, my dear sir, of the price of lumber in this country ? " When Mr. Brown uttered the word lumher his face assumed an expression of the highest enjoyment, and his sweet smile gradually expanded into an unmistakable grin. When Mr. Jobson gave him a matter-of-fact reply to his question, he propounded others on the same sub- ject, listened with the same air of enjoyment, and finally uttered a brief, husky but highly expressive laugh. When Mr. Jobson took his leave at length, weary of waiting for Mr. Gartrell, that strange laugh was still in his ears. 146 PRETTY MES. GASTON. CHAPTBE XXVI. WHAT OCCTTERED AT THE HOLLIES ON A SUMMER NIGHT. IT was an exquisite night, and The Hollies was bathed in a flood of moonlight which slept upon the trees weighed down with deep green foliage, on the sward as smooth as an emerald sea, and on the flowers which, grouped in clusters everywhere, seemed to open then- fresh leaves and variegated blooms to the sweet and caressing airs of the summer night. The Hollies was, indeed, a picture. The white trellises gleamed in the mellow splendor, the white gravel way around the circle resembled a band of silver, and some rustic seats scattered here and there beneath the great cedars and hoUies cast picturesque shadows, reproducing on the grass the outlines of their gnarled and fantastic forms. It was one of those nights, and one of those scenes, too, which seem made for lovers ; and some personages who had either reached or were approaching the fairy land of love were enjoying its tranquil splendors. On the portico sat Mrs. Gaston not far from Mr. Jack Daintrees. But — oh ! horror ! — an excellent lady of the neighborhood with her two charming daughters, respect- PRETTY MES. GASTON. 147 ively thirty-four and thirty-eight, had called to spend the evening^ and was crazing the unfortunate and tantalized Mr. Daintrees with all the gossip of the day. Mr. Dain- trees said nothing. He was engaged in calculating how long this thing could continue — whether there was any possibility of its ceasing before midnight. Long experi- ence told him that there was little or no probability thereof ; and with gloomy eyes he gazed most enyiously upon a couple seated upon one of the rustic seats, half in moonlight, half in shadow. These two persons were Ealph Harrington and Annie. The young lady was looking at the moon with a coquet- tish smile upon her lips, and Harrington was leaning his elbow upon the back of the rustic seat. He had his face turned toward her, and the expression of his counte- nance was as timid as that of a boy approaching his first avowal In three days this wonder had been accomplished by that ruler of the world — ^love. Harrington was no longer recognizable. He had been easy, negligent, prone to satirical comment, and rather too self-possessed and ** jaunty " to inapress you with a very exalted idea of his modesty. He was now as shrinking as a girl — ^was ac- tually coloring ; and Annie was smiling mischievously. "I am glad to see your health and joy have come back ! You look so beautiful as you sit now in the moon- light!" It was even more the tone than the words that brought the quick blush to Annie's cheeks. "And you too, sir," she said looking at him for a sin- 148 PKETTY MRS. GASTON. gle instant and then back to the moon, " you too look a great deal stronger than yon did." "I am happier !" Annie said nothing. "I was not happy, and it made me thin and pale. You do not know it — I hope you never wiU — but unhap- piness causes that." "I know it," Annie said, "but we must not think of past troubles." Harrington looked at her quickly. What lover ever lived who did not fancy that the nothings uttered by the beloved one had a secret meaning ? " I have forgotten all about my distress," said Har- rington blushing and faltering. "You alone could " "And I," said Annie laughing, "have no recollection of my wetting or my cough, or anything ! I am happy to say that I never felt better than I do now — my appe- tite is enormous — and Auntie says I am no longer in the least interesting." The reason why Miss Annie gave this prosaic turn to the conversation was that she had not the least intention that Dr. Ealph Harrington should ask her a certain ques- tion — which it was perfectly plain to her feminine' in- stinct he intended to ask— in so public a place, and so very soon after his resumption of friendly visits at The Hollies. This young lady had indeed determined to lead the young gentleman a long and weary chase — to tantalize him with doubt — nay, if the fancy seized her, to refuse him — at first. And the gay, the self-possessed, the satirical Dr. Ealph PEETTY MKS. GASTON. 149 Harrington 'was lite wax in the hands of this little "country girl!" She laughed, looked over her shoul- der at him, out of the comer of her eyes, enjoyed exqui- sitely his blushes and timidity, and when he was rendered desperate and seized her hand, then it was that the young witch proyed finally too adroit for her lover. " There is Auntie calling us ! " she exclaimed. " The ice-cream ! the ice-cream ! You don't know how deli- cious it is ! I mixed it myself — ^it is strawberry ! The very last ! " Then was beheld the spectacle of a fairy clad in the last fashion, flitting through the moonlight toward the house, followed ruefully by a male figure whose face was very much downcast. The fairy laughed a low laugh of triumph as she disappeared up the steps ; her companion blushed, and forgetting that he was the cool, the self- possessed, the superior Dr. Ealph Harrington, looked as awkward as a school-boy ! "As I told you, my dear Mrs. Gaston, there is no doubt about the fact that Miss Quigby did encourage old Mr. Welby. Just to think ! he is at least sixty years of age, and what Miss Quigby could mean by setting her cap at such an old gentleman, who has grandchildren as old as she is nearly and puts his feet in flannel to drive ofE the rheumatism whenever it is the least cold, I leave it to you, my dear Mrs. Gaston, to say, and I know you will think with me that " This was the species of conversation which our friend Mr. Daintrees had been listening to for precisely two hours and three quarters. His mind was slowly giving 150 PEETTT MES. GASTON. way. He struggled against the spell in vain. He en- deavored to reflect upon other things, and not to listen — .useless. He swore internally, and might have done some- thing desperate, when Mrs. G-aston rose, and interrupting the ceaseless flow of words said sweetly to her lady visitor: " May I give you some ice-cream ?" The ice-cream had the desired effect. It checked the torrent. There is indeed some occult property in coun- try ice-cream, rich and pervaded by strawberries, which on summer evenings temporarily paralyzes the oral pow- ers of the most talkative. Mrs. G-aston's was served in a great cut glass bowl, towering above a slender stem, and the saucers were covered with flowers in their natural colors, upon which the exquisite substance reposed in conscious loveliness. The lady visitor and her daughters partook of three saucers each, and as they rose thereafter and declared that they must really return home, a sud- den gleam of joy darted across the soul of Mr. Jack Daintrees. His opportunity had come, or would come on the departure of these excellent people. Fate at last was propitious. Even Dr. Ealph Harrington would not be in his way. That gentleman had finished his ice-cream; invited Miss Annie to walk with Mm in the moonlight, received for reply a polite regret that she could not venture out so late just after being sick ; and thereupon Dr. Ealph Harrington, sad, but resigned and willing to await a more favorable opportunity, took leave of the company, and rode away toward "Waterford. The crowning joy for Mr. Jack Daintrees succeeded. PRETTT MRS. GASTOK. 151 Mrs. Gaston's lady visitors put on tlieir bonnets ; as- sumed, after the fashion of ladies, the air of persons just on the point of departure ; remained in that attitude conyersing for half an hour precisely ; and at last, as the carriage had been waiting for some time, entered upon the final ceremonies of feminine leave-taking. These consisted in kissing Mrs. Gaston and Annie, and in say- ing they would be "so glad" to see them — ^they "really, must come soon," and then a brief conversation of not more than a quarter of an hour followed as the visitors descended the steps. Never was Mr. Jack Daintrees more delighted than in offering his assistance to the ladies on this occasion. He bowed with the sweetest smiles, gently pushed the some- what angular elbows of the three ladies as they got into the carriage, closed the door with a sigh of delight, and saw the vehicle roll away with the devoutest thanks. At last ! His hour had come ! The carriage had rolled around the circle, passed through the tall gateway which closed with a clang, and was heard rattling away. Even Annie seemed to feel that it would be heartless in her to remain down-stairs, and ran by Mrs. Gaston with a wicked smile upon her lips, which brought a rosy blush to the face of the pretty Mrs. Gaston, exclaiming as she did so : "I must go and fix my hair, Auntie! It's tumbled down, and will "take me — at least an hour !" Mr. Jack Daintrees could have embraced the speaker out of pure gratitude. But he had no thoughts now for any one but the pretty widow. There she stood in the 153 PEETTY MES. GASTON. moonliglit with her rosy cheeks, her pouting lips, her little white hand raising to those lips the small lace hand- kerchief, while with the other hand, on which a diamond sparkled, she rearranged the white rose in her hair. To state that Mr. Daintrees was flooded, well nigh ■ drowned in happiness, as he gazed upon this figure, would he scarcely to express the whole truth. He was the most fortunate of men! Who but must envy his lot ? Had not a hundred glances from those eyes in- formed him that he was not indifEerent to their owner ? Had not he poured forth his love in the swamp ? Had not his angel then glanced sweetly at him, cast down her eyes, and when he besought her to utter but "one word," replied with blushes that she would prefer uttering it " at The Hollies ? " What other meaning could she have than this, that the answer would be "yes ?" It was with such thoughts passing through his mind that Mr. Jack Daintrees now approached the pretty Mrs. Gaston as she stood in the moonlight watching the gate through which her visitors had just disappeared ; and eager, ardent, thrilling with the near approach of the supremely happy moment, stretched out his hand to take the pretty hand of the widow. It would please the writer of this page to leave the figures thus — to discontinue the narrative — and to let fall the veil of convenance before Mr. Daintrees and Mrs. Gaston, leaving the rest to the imaginaticiii. But such a proceeding is impossible. Events occurred suddenly which must be recorded. Fate rushed upon Daintrees. PKETTY MRS. GASTON. 153 Just as lie stretclied out his hand to take Mrs. Gaston's, cries were heard one or two hundred yards in front of The Hollies, and the alarmed character of the outcries in question was unmistakable. "Oh me!" exclaimed Mrs. Gaston, "something has OKIES WEBB HBAED ONE OB TWO HtTNDKED TAKDS IN FEONT OP THE HOLLIES. happened ! An accident ! Perhaps fatal ! Do make haste Mr. Daintrees ! " Mr. Daintrees groaned. He was not an unamiable person, but he went somewhat deliberately. In fact he 154 PEBTTT MES. GASTOK. met the three lady visitors walking back toward The HolHes. "Oh! my dear Daintrees ! such a terrible accident! My poor nerves ! — ^jnst to think, and there is Mrs. Gaston running to meet us, and Miss Annie ! Oh ! my dear Mrs. Gaston ! it is a Providence that we were not all killed ! The wheel, my dear Mrs. Gaston ! the wheel ! It sud- denly fell to pieces with a crash ! Thomas the driver says it was dished! What is 'dished ?' I only know that we have mercifully escaped death ! " Having presented a very slight portion of the excellent lady's observations we proceed to state in one sentence that the front wheel of the carriage had run over a rock and broken to pieces, thereby disabling the vehicle. The result was that the lady visitors were compelled to spend the night at The Hollies — Mrs. Gaston promising to send them home on the next morning in her carriage, if their own was irreparable. To this they consented, and having seated herself comfortably in the drawing- room, the worthy old lady proceeded to narrate once more, with every particular and at extreme length, her fearful accident and providential escape. Mr. Daintrees did not hear this narrative. Uttering a groan which might have melted the heart of his bitterest enemy, he had taken his leave, and was — we are sorry to say — swearing on his way back to The Lodge. PRETTY MBS. GASTON. 155 CHAPTER XXVII. WHAT OCCUKEED AT BATVIEW. ON the day after this scene, at about noon, Mr. Ormby was seated in his library, reading a law- paper. The unfortunate man was the ghost of himself. In a few days he seemed to have grown ten years older, and his appearance no longer indicated, in the remotest degree, that patronizing feeling of superiority which he had formerly indulged upon all occasions. Pecuniary trouble and domestic discord had changed Mr. Ormby. He was sullen, gloomy, grufE, and scowled when people spoke to him. The sale of Bayview seemed unaroidable unless some means could be devised to sat- isfy, or at least temporarily soften his inexorable creditor. But what means were possible to him ? His credit was utterly gone — he could not borrow upon real estate already covered by a lien to the extent of its value — but one resource was left him ; the marriage of Marian and Allan GartreU. If that could be effected, he would be able to gain time. His creditor would indulge him a little longer, if hopes were held out of payment, through the instrumentality of so wealthy a son-in-law. That 156 PRETTY MES. GASTOK. was the sole and only means— the single harrier hetween him and utter hankruptcy ; he owed it to his family, to his daughter herself — the unhappy man reflected — ^to effect the match : and Mr. Ormhy, who had let the law- paper faU from his grasp, to indulge in this train of gloomy thought, saw all at once through the window the approaching figure of Mr. AUan Gartrell. Mr. Gartrell was met at the door by Mr. Ormby, and conducted into the library, where a prolonged interview took place between them. "With a sort of sinking at his heart Mr. Ormby perceived, or thought that he per- ceived, a decided diminution in Mr. Allan GartreU's anxiety to consummate the marriage with his daughter. The truth was that Allan Gartrell, Esq., had spent some hours in profound reflection, after hearing certain rumors of Mr. Ormby's pecuniary troubles, and had come to the conclusion that perhaps it would not be so very desirable after all to wed the daughter of a possible bankrupt. This he dissembled, however, simply protesting agaiast the employment of any means of coercing the young lady's action — ^he could not consent, he said, to force himself upon any family. To which Mr. Ormby re- sponded that his daughter was actuated simply by ca- price — there could and would be no real difficulty — and, leaving the matter in that ambiguous condition, Mr. Allan GartreU bowed and departed. This interview drove the depressed, angry, and nervous Mr. Ormby well-nigh to frenzy. Here was the rich suitor already suspicious and growing cool ! He had no doubt heard the rumor of the approaching sale of Bayview. Or PEETTT MES. GASTON. 157 if lie liad not heard it, lie would hear it ! There -was no time to be lost. Thereupon Mr. Ormby rose nervously, jerked down the bell-cord, a servant ran, and a message was sent to Ma- rian that her father -wished to see her in the library. Ten minutes afterwards the poor girl, as white as a ghost, and fearfully thin, made her appearance, slowly dragging her steps toward her father. At sight of her pale face his heart bled withia him ; but nerving himself with the coolness of a ruined and despairing man, he announced his will — that she should prepare to marry Mr. GartreU in three days from that time. Marian did not reply. She stood looking at the floor, and twisting backward and forward in her thin fingers a paper which she was unconscious of holding — it was a note written her by George Cleave during their engage- ment. When Mr. Ormby, who had spoken in a low and hoarse, but determined voice, ended what he had to say, reiterating his fixed will and order, Marian raised her eyes, fixed them for a moment upon her father, seemed to understand in a dull sort of way that the interview was over, and without speaking turned and went with the same slow, draggiag steps out of the room.. As she reached the hall, the sound of steps attracted her attention. She slowly raised her eyes. At the front door stood a portly individual in an ample waistcoat, grasping a stick, and wearing an enormous black hat. This gentleman had been smiling benevolently. At sight of the young lady, with' her frightful pallor and her attenuated figure, all these smiles disappeared, and the 158 PKETTT MES. GASTON. face of Mr. Brown, for it was that gentleman, grew cold and stei;n. " Your father. Miss - — ? " He uttered the words almost unconsciously, and Ma- rian simply moved her thin hand in a mechanical man- "toub fathee, miss ?" ner toward the library. Then she dragged her slow steps up-stairs, and disappeared, Mr. Brown stood perfectly motionless for some mo- ments gazing after her. His expression was singular; PRETTY MES. GASTON. 159 It was a mixture of deep pity, indignation, and stern- ness. All at once he heard a step ; Mr. Ormby came out of the library, and with a stiff bow Mr. Brown asked if he had the pleasure of addressing Mr. Ormby. " You have, sir," said Mr. Ormby with a temporary return of his habitual hauteur. " May I ask the occasion of your visit, sir ? " "I wish to know if you have any timber upon this estate which you wish to sell standing, and if so, on what terms you will dispose of it," said Mr. Brown, eyeing his companion with a keen and fixed glance. Mr. Ormby cleared his throat and was about to grasp at this ofEer, to secure ready money. But a moment's reflection told him that the sale of the timber was not practicable. It would alarm his creditor, and hasten harsh measures ; in addition to which, the proceeding would not be precisely honest. " I have none for sale, sir," he said stiflSy. Mr. Brown bowed as stiffly, and said : "I will then bid you good morning, sir." With which words he went out and mounted his horse. " That man's very look disgusts me ! " he said. " To come into these sweet rural scenes, as the poet says, and find such people ! Well, I am a little tired of my visit to Virginia. I will bring my business here to an end without loss of time. That poor girl ! and they are going to force her into a marriage that she hates ! Well ! I won't swear ; but they count without — John Brown ! " Having uttered these words John Brown rode on and disappeared. 160 PEETTT MES. GASTOK. Marian did not come down to dinner, and only toward night glided into her mother's room. The poor lady, who was completely overawed by her harsh husband, had been nnable to afEord the girl any consolation or hope ; and Marian did not seem to expect any now. She sat down beside her mother on a cricket, leaned her head upon the ieeble knees, and drawing her mother's hand to her, placed it on her head, holding it there for some time. During this time her lips moved, and she seemed to be praying. At last she rose, stood for an instant gazing at her mother with inflamed eyes, and then put- ting her arms around her, kissed her on her Ups, her cheeks, and her gray hair, and went slowly back to her chamber, the door of which she closed behind her. On the next morning, the young lady did not come down to breakfast, and Mr. Ormby sent a maid to sum- mon her. The maid came back with a frightened face, and said that Miss Marian was not in her chamber, and her bed had not been slept in. "Not slept in !" cried the unhappy man. "ISTo, sir." "Oh!" And with a deep groan the miserable father let his head f aU upon the table. Marian Ormby had indeed fled from her home — whither no one could divine. PEETTT MES. GASTON. 161 CHAPTEE XXVIII, MK. BEOWK PRONOUNCES SENTENCE. ALLAN" GAETEELL, Esq., after his interview with Mr. Ormby, had ridden toward The Lodge to pay a visit to Mr. Jack Daintrees — one of the few gentlemen of the neighborhood who had invited him to their houses. Not finding Mr. Daintrees at home, Mr. GartreU ex- perienced a sensation of ennui, and returning to Cleave- land, proceeded to indulge in the amusement of becom- ing tipsy, through the instrumentality of champagne — a large supply of which he had discovered in the cellars of Mr. Hamilton Cleave. The effort made by Mr. GartreU to dispel his weari- ness had eminently succeeded. At the end of his second bottle he became comfortably careless of all human ills — had routed the fiend ennui — laughed, sang, and was ready to quarrel. He had reached this point, and was contemplating in a muddled and hazy manner the propriety of ordering up another bottle, when Mr. Brown, who had ridden back through Waterford to see Mr. Jobson for a few moments, made' his appearance. The incident was greeted by Mr. GartreU with great satisfaction. 163 PKETXY MBS. GASTON- "Take some champagne, Brown," said Mr. Gartrell in a thick Toice ; " I want a little talk with you, my good Mr. Brown." The gentleman thns addressed bestowed a penetrating glance npon Mr. G-artrell, smiled according to his wont, and said : " Champagne ? With pleasure, my dear Gartrell. And conversation ? Nothing could please me better." "Brown," said Mr. Gartrell scowling, "you are a~ fool." This observation appearing even to the muddled intel- lect of Mr. Gartrell liable to the criticism of being some- what irrelevant, he proceeded to explain it by the further statement that Mr. Brown was a "stuck-up puppy." Mr. Brown bestowed upon the speaker a glance which he did not seem to observe — -a curious, very curious glance. "A puppy, my dear Mr. Allan Gartrell? — and a fool too ? Well, I was never before regarded as a fool pre- cisely ; but come ! we are talking in a friendly way — ^why am I a fool?" "You think you are master here !" "Master?" "You put on your cursed familiar airs ! I sa,j familiar! And I say I have had enough of it. Brown ! " " You are then desirous that my visit should terminate, eh, my dear Mr. Gartrell ?" "I am !" said Mr. Gartrell scowling. "Very well," said Mr. Brown benevolently; "but it is not friendly in me to leave you, without asking how PEETTT MRS. GASTOM". 163 you are getting on, my dear Gartrell. Your matrimonial projects, I hope, are in good train. At Bayriew, you know — all right there, eh ?" "^o, sir !" responded Mr. Gartrell with extreme hau- teur, " they are wo^ all right. They are aU wrong. The old man is trying to hook me." "To hook you?" "I say to hook me ! A miserable bankrupt ! A penni- less adventurer ! " said Mr. G-artrell. Mr. Brown serenely sipped his champagne, smiling. "You are unfortunate, my dear Gartrell," he said sweetly; "do you know that I was prepared to lay any amount that you would make a good thing of that ? But I fear you are unlucky. Now I will tell you what per- haps you are ignorant of — ^that I never back unlucky men. In fact, I am like the rest of the world ; I am ready to do my part to ruin them." Muddled as was the brain of Mr. Allan Gartrell, he vaguely realized a hidden menace in these words. Ho had finished his third bottle, however, and had grown pugnacious. "What do you mean by that. Brown ?" he said. "A mere jest, my dear friend," said Mr. Brown smil- ing, but watching his companion keenly. "Because if you mean to insult me. Brown " Here Mr. Gartrell grasped an empty bottle of cham- pagne, and expressed his feelings further by a volley of the most shocking expressions. "Come, come, my dear sir," said Mr. Brown, laugh- mg, but continuing to watch his companion ; " what is 164 PRETTY MBS. GASTOK. the use of all this ? Are we not the closest, dearest friends. Take care, my dear Mr. Gartrell — let me assist you — you are, I fear, a httle overcome by this exceUent beverage. Ah ! here is James. James, Mr. Gartrell is a little uinvell. Perhaps it would be as well to assist him to a sofa in the drawing-room. These little attacks are soon slept off." And rising, with his sweetest smile upon his lips, while the grinning James supported his staggering master to a sofa, Mr. Brown went out, put on his hat, and walking up and down the portico, reflected deeply. At the end of an hour he stopped, smiled shghtly, and said : "I am tired at last of trifling with this gentleman. His hour has come ! " PEETTY MRS. GASTON-. 165 CHAPTBE XXIX. SKIRMISHING AT THE HOLUES. THAT nest of doves. The Hollies, on the night of this same day was a scene of fairy enchantment — of moonlight, Tariegated lanterns, white mtislin, jewels, rosy cheeks, and sparkling eyes. Pretty Mrs. Gaston was giving her annual party. The fair widow was an enormous favourite with the young ladies of the neighhorhood. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to them to encircle her waist with their arms whenever they were in her presence, and for some weeks hefore this graceful proceeding on the part of the blooming young maidens had heen followed regularly by the exclamation, "Oh! Mrs. Gaston ! — do give a party ! — You know you said you would !" Kisses, bright glances, caressing words, and laughter succeeded ; all attempts to extricate herself from the fondly encircling arms were resisted, for the very school girls tyrannized over pretty Mrs. Gaston ; the victim could only laugh, blush, declare that they were plagues ; after which the evening for the party was duly fixed, as the teazing maidens knew it would be. When Annie was informed of her intention by Mrs. 166 PEETTY MKS. GASTOK. Gaston, the young lady glowed with joy, and, forgetting aU the dignity of eighteen, proceeded to clap her hands. Then she rushed upon Mrs. Gaston, seized that lady in her arms, and having kissed her rapturously declared that of all the little aunties that anybody had ever possessed this small auntie was the paragon — the flower of flowers. " Because you are to have a dance, you little witch !" said Mrs. Gaston ; " did anybody ever see such sly, inter- ested creatures as you girls are ! " "Oh ! " exclaimed Miss Annie, " Grandma is talking so demurely ! Oirls ! — I'd like to know if there is anybody younger than my small auntie, in her feelings — and her face too ! " ' " Go away, you flatterer, I am an old woman and will never be able to keep you young things in order. But what in the world are we to do for music ? The piano will not do." This obstacle was promptly met. There was an excel- lent fiddle in the neighborhood, and if he disappointed them, Mr. Daintrees, who was famous for his skill as a performer on the violin, would play for them. "Mr. — Daintrees?" said Mrs. Gaston, coloring a little, "but perhaps it would not be agreeable to Mr. Daintrees." Annie looked at pretty Mrs. Gaston, who at the moment was carefully polishing a silver sugar-dish with a tea-cloth, after breakfast ; and a mischievous smile was seen upon the maiden's lips — ^heralding the approaching shaft. "Not agreeable to Mr. Daintrees ?" said Miss Annie, PRETTY MRS. GASTON'. 167 " I will make sure of that gentleman, and warrant that it will be agreeable." "You?" "With one word." " What do you mean, my dear ?" "I will tell Mr. — ^that is to say my future Uncle Jack " "Annie!" "That — my little auntie requests him to play for us ! Oh ! how you are blushing ! " And in the midst of declarations from Mrs. Gaston that she was "a goose," and the "absurdest creature," Miss Annie made the breakfast-room ring with laughter. "Ton shall tell Mr. Daintrees nothing of the sort," said the lady with her little timid smile ; "and now as we have done washing up let us go and make a list of persons to be in-yited." It was quite a pretty group — the fair lady of thirty-five and the maiden of eighteen bending down, with their handsome heads close together, over the sheet upon which name after name was written. They had nearly exhausted the neighborhood, when Mrs. Gaston said : " Just to think ! We have forgotten Dr. Harrington !" Pretty Mrs. Gaston had her revenge, at last. Miss Annie Bell suddenly colored. " Pshaw !" she said, " of course he will come." "Without an invitation ? Fie ! my dear, you must have a very bad opinion of Dr. Harrington's manners. And now, as I have alluded to the subject" — Mrs. Gaston paused an instant, assumed an innocent expres* 168 PRETTY MRS. GASTON'. sion, and glanced with, a sliglit smile at Annie — " I tMnk I have observed my dear, that — yoii have a positive anti- pathy to Dr. Ealph Harrington ! " The fair lady had taken her revenge. The shaft went home, and the laughing Miss Annie Bell betrayed, un- mistakable confusion. This was quickly succeeded, however, by a burst of laughter, and the young lady exclaimed : "You are right. Auntie ! I can't bear your conceited friend ! He is really overpowering with his lofty airs — and you may invite him or not just as you please. I assure you J don't care." With a toss of her head the young lady added : "If he comes to-day I will tell him so." Mrs. Gaston raised her hand and pointed through the window. " There he is, my dear, and you will have an excellent opportunity." In fact. Dr. Harrington was riding in on his return from a professional visit. Annie tried to break away from- Mrs. G-aston, who mischievously held her fast. "Where are you going ? — then you will not see him ?" she said. Miss Annie struggled. " Let me go. Auntie !" " Where are you going ?" " Can you ask ! — agoing ? I am going up-stairs to fix my hair, and to change this horrid old thing I have on ! " The horrid old thing was a morning wrapper, and having changed it, the maiden descended the stairs with PEETTY MRS. GASTON. Ifi9 a prim and demure air, humming a little song, un- consciously as it were, to express polite surprise at the presence of the Tisitor. Her polite air continued as she conyersed — ^with erery door wide open — on the subject of the "weather, appealing repeatedly to Mrs. Gaston, and thus keeping that lady in the room. When Dr. Ralph Harrington suggested a walk in the grounds. Miss Bell declined ; when he made speeches indicative of a, desire to direct the conTersation in another channel, Miss Bell "snubbed" him ; and when at last he departed, his face indicated anything but pleasure. Miss Annie Bell's proceeding thereupon was singular. She concealed herself behind the lace curtain of the drawing-room, peeped at the gentleman as he walked around the circle and mounted his horse ; continued to watch him with the closest attention until he passed through the gate ; and when he disappeared this incom- prehensible young lady burst into laughter — after which she sighed. She then ran to the piano, and began to play a waltz, in the midst of which Mrs. GTaston came in, and said : "WeU, my dear, did you have a pleasant visit from Dr. Harrington? I hope he made himself agreeable?" "Agreeable !" exclaimed Annie turning round on the piano stool; "he made himself just as stupid! — Oh, Auntie, how stupid ! " "I hope you invited him to the party ?" "Y — e — s," said Miss Annie in a hesitating voice; "You know. Auntie, common politeness required me to diOthat!" 170 PBETTY MBS. GASTOK. OHAPTEE XXX. A GBSTBEAL ENGAGEMENT. THE Hollies on the evening of the party was, as we have said, a scene of positive enchantment. As the moon did not rise until nearly midnight, Mrs. Gaston had procured a number of variegated paper lanterns, which were suspended from the drooping boughs of the cedars, among the burnished leaves of The Hollies, and even high up amid the delicate leaflets of a willow be- neath which a rustic seat, conveniently in shadow, afforded a refuge for lovers seeking privacy for their romantic interviews. Seen by the mild and subdued light of the variegated lanterns. The Hollies was a picture. The outlines of foliage were clear cut against the stars; the white trellises gleamed ; the nooks beneath the trees, where couples oc- cupied seats, were full of quiet laughter ; the green circle glimmered; along the veranda flowed to and fro a stream of promenaders, to hasten in when the notes of the violin announced the "next set ; " and all about The Hollies laughed and sparkled, catching as they fled the joyous splendor of the hours. The headlong violin rushed onward in a maze of cotil- lons, waltzes, polkas, and galops, until supper was served. BRETTY MBS. QASTOK. 171 when the gay young people proceeded to the apartment where Mrs. G-aston had exhausted her skill — quite famous in the neighborhood — on her entertainment ; and then, this agreeable ceremony being over, the dancing recom- menced; the honest old country house was full of a mirth and laughter greater than before. And suddenly the full-orbed moon was rolled into the sky, like a golden shield above the dreamy fringes of the trees. From the house, the grounds, and the landscape let us pass now to a figure or two and a scene which took place on this evening. The grace and beauty of a neigh- borhood quite famous for such, had assembled at The Hollies on this evening ; but it may be fairly questioned whether any of the little beauties were more beautiful than Annie — ^it might well nigh be added — ^than pretty Mrs. Gaston. How shall we describe the fair widow as she appeared on this evening ? She was a rose in full bloom, with all the freshness of the morning dew upon it ! She wore a dress of lilac silk and a Httle modest lace collar which was nt)t whiter than her neck. In her hair was a white rose, and red roses were in her cheeks — ^for that habit of blushing which she indulged in the privacy of her family was all the more observable now, when she was called upon to occupy the prominent position of hostess. It was astonishing how popular that little blush made Mrs. Graston, and pleasant to see how the very little girls just "coming out" flocked to her, and figuratively took her under their protection ! They gathered about her when- ever she appeared — ^kissed her upon the least or upon no 172 PRETTY MKS. GASTOK. proTOcation ; even tlie young gentlemen -with, budding mustaches teased her to dance with them, and she was compelled to hasten away, as the only means of resisting their solicitations. It -was doubtless with the yiew of extricating pretty Mrs. Gaston from these annoyances that, during a cotil- lon which drew into its merry mazes nearly all the com- pany, Mr. Jack Daintrees gallantly arranged a light scarf around the lady's shoulders, issued forth with her upon the Teranda, and after a few moments spent in persuasive reasoning, induced his fair companion to de- scend to the sward, in order to enjoy the beauty of the full-orbed moon. And Annie — ^what shall be said of Annie ? Having nearly grown enthusiastic in that previous portraiture, we fear we shall become absurd if we dwell long upon the appearance of the little beauty of The HolHes. She was like a vision of youth and joy. Her pure oval face was brushed by a few curls ; her eyes sparkled with su- preme enjoyment ; she wore a white muslin dress, over which fell a cloud of what we believe is styled "illusion," looped up with pink rosebuds ; — a little bouquet du cor- sage — and from the falling sleeves of her dress emerged two round white arms on which shone a pair of gold bracelets. The cotillon ended, and the couples scattered them- selves over the lawn — leaving only a few inveterate dancers to the headlong enjoyment of the galop. For some time the young ladies who had gone out to the lawn with their partners were seen strolling to and fro PBETTT MES. GASTON. 173 in the moonliglit ; then the couples disappeared one by one J then the murmur of voices, mingled with "fairy- laughter," was heard from the rustic seats beneath the shadows of the trees — and the genius of flirtation spread his wings aboye The Holhes. At the risk of incurring the prorerbial fate of eaves- droppers, let us listen to what one of these couples are saying, on a gnarled and fantastic seat beneath the droop- iiig foliage of a great ash, which rises from some mossy rocks nearly at the extremity of the grounds. The speaker at the moment is a man, and his voice is firm and earnest. Not a tremor interrupts the grave, strong accents, which are deep and low — ^his voice is of that sort which comes from and speaks to the heart. "I have told you everything, now, Annie, and you know me as well as I know myself. I have intended to tell you this for a long time, but thought — why should I ? It is only to the woman a man loves that he can say such things — and — and — ^why use any ceremony now ? You know how dearly — ^how deeply— I love you." An inarticulate murmur, so faint that it might have been taken for the whisper of the summer wind in the ash overhead, came from the listener — a young girl with her head drooping, and her white hands opening and closing a httle variegated fan upon which her eyes were fixed. "Every man's life comes to this at last," the speaker went on in a voice growing deeper and more earnest as he spoke. " He may laugh, jest, make his satirical com- ments on women, and amuse himself at their expense. 174 PBETTY MES. GASTON. Then, some day, lie finds that he loves some one with his whole heart and soul ; and forgets his laughter, and — ^if he loves her as he should — speaks to her as I have spoken to you ! " The earnest voice seemed to draw, against her own will as it were, the eyes of the young lady to her companion's face. She raised her eyes, and for a single instant they were fixed upon his own — ^her cheel* full of blushes, her bosom heaving — then they fell again. "I have concealed nothing," he went on. "I have told you my life — that I am only a poor gentleman, but at least a gentleman, and I hope a Christian. I claim no merit for that — ^to be indifEerent, even, in such things has been from my very childhood monstrous in my eyes. To live in this beautiful world, surrounded by so many marvels — to have the love of a mother— of friends — to see the -moon rise, and the grass and flowers grow, and live through all like a dumb animal — that at least I could not do ! and in my hard life — it has been a hard one sometimes — I can say, and I would say it to you only, that I have never forgotten the prayers I learned with my head on my mother's knees." He stopped for a single instant and then went on : " I have said enough of this — far more than I intended to say. But I am loyal — I say that proudly. I dare not conceal anything, and have opened my whole heart to you. The rest you know. You know how we met first — ^how I tried and succeeded in making G-eorge offer you his hand — ^how I found then that I loved you, and you need not be told that the result was utter misery to me. PKETTY MRS. GASTOIT. 175 I resolved not to come near you, and the most wretched hour of my life was that visit to you when you were unwell, and I was called upon to take in my own the hand — ^that belonged to George Cleave. The rest fol- lowed — ^your engagement ended — I had the right to love you then — ^I had not the right before, and I loved you, I love you, Annie, with aU the strength of my being ! I am not a boy — ^I am a man, and a hard one, in some things. I will conceal nothing from you — ^refuse me and I will not go and drown my misery in drink, or coarse company, or give up my career. I will work, and work harder than I ever did. I defy misery to crush me — it can not crush Ealph Harrington ! " The head of the speaker rose with something proud and resolute in the very poise of it. A moment after- wards it dropped. "I am talking absurdly," he murmured ; "it is because my thoughts rise to my hps, and I mean to show you my very heart ! I am blundering on all about what I will do if you refuse me — ^but do not refuse me, Annie ! I was only boasting, perhaps — I think I should die without you!" Two hands which were near each other seemed to approach, unconsciously, and were clasped together. A little head with brown ringlets rose slowly, and a pair of moist eyes were fixed with a long, earnest, trusting gaze upon his own. The lips of the beautiful girl uttered not the slightest sound ; but in that long, earnest look was written with- out room for doubt — " surrender." 176 PBETXT MES. GASTON. Suddenly the headlong, violin Tvithin The Hollies struck up a reel — the merriest of all the reels since time began — and the whole moonlit lawn was quickly aliye with figures hastening in to take their places. The pry- ing moon had witnessed a number of romantic scenes — what it lingered upon now, the last of all, was the spec- THB PETING MOON— WHAT IT LINGERED UPON NOW. tacle of a girl clasped in her lover's arms, her lips pressed to his own in a long, lingering kiss. " Only another moment, Annie ! " " I must go now — Ealph ! " And Miss Annie Bell, with cheeks the color of the red rose at her corsage, flitted away, her little satin slippers gleaming in the moonlight. PBETTY MBS. GASTON". 177 "Mrs. Gaston ! where is Mrs. Gaston ! " cried a youth- ful gentleman, rushing forth from the veranda, " She's engaged to dance the reel with me ! Oh — ^h — h — ^h I Mrs. Gaston ! " What spectacle was it that then greeted the hright eyes of youths and maidens whose attention had been attracted by the youthful gentleman's outcries ? We said that the moon had "seen the last of the romantic eouples, but were quite mistaken. Prom a clump of shrubs, beyond which stood a rustic chair under a holly, suddenly appeared — the pretty Mrs. Gaston and Mr. Jack Daintrees ! The former was blushing as she had perhaps never blushed before ; the latter walked with his head erect and triumphant. In fact we can only describe the demeanor of Mr. Daintrees by saying that he resembled a warrior returiiing from a successful campaign, in front of whom the bands are playing, "See the conquering hero comes ! " How pretty Mrs. Gaston got through the reel that night was a mystery to herself, and she never remem- bered anything about it afterwards. Fortunately her habit of blushing served to explain the permanent roses in her cheeks, or the rapid motion was credited with the phenomenon. Certain it is that everybody admired Mrs. Gaston and Annie, as they went together from end to end of the reel ; and the hearts of Jack Daintrees and Kalph Harrington beat time to the music. For the " skirmishing at The HoUies " had been suc- ceeded by "a general engagement" — and an uncondi- tional surrender. 178 PKETTX MBS. GASTOK. CHAPTER XXXI. THE CTPBESS LBAE — AKD THE SUNSHINE. IT was three o'clock in the morning and the revellers had begun to disperse. On the high road near The Hollies the moon was pouring its solemn splendor. No sound was heard but the low sigh of the night wind in some shrubbery skirting the road; but all at once a human sigh was mingled with the inarticulate murmur of the foliage ; and this low, piteous sigh issued from the lips of a crouching figure, lost hke a shadow in the shadow of the shrubs, and shrinking lower as the guests went by in carriages or on horseback toward their homes. The shadow in the shadow scarcely moved. It was crouching, shrinking, shuddering, and seemed about to faint and fall. It had glided out of Bayview, and an hour past mid- night, scarcely knowing in what direction it went; tottered with weak steps across fields and through forest paths, with the vague thought of going some- PKBTTT MRS. GASXOif. 179 wliere— anywhere ; and going on and on, with the same faint, feeble, tottering steps, had sunk down weak and powerless at the very gateway almost of The Hollies. An hour afterwards Marian Ormby was in bed at The Hollies, with Mrs. Gaston and Annie seated by her, holding her poor hands and weeping. Ealph Harrington was standing at the foot of the bed, looking gravely at her. It was he who had discovered the poor girl as he passed, the last guest of all, on his way back to Waterford. Hearing a low sob in the shrubbery beside the road, he had dismounted, gone to the spot, found Marian stretched nearly lifeless on the ground, and had hurriedly questioned her, demanding an explanation of her presence there. In a faint and broken voice she had tried to give him this explanation. She was going — she meant to go — her aunt lived only a few miles — ^then the poor girl burst into tears and hid her face in her hands. Ealph Harrington had no difficulty in understanding the whole mystery. Marian had left her father's home to take refuge at her aunt's — ^had sunk down on the way ; a hot fever had seized upon her, he saw, and with gentle force he bore her into The Hollies, just as Annie and Mrs. Gaston were extinguishing the lights. It was the cypress leaf that mingles fatally with the orange flowers of life. At daylight a note was dispatched to Mr. Ormby ; and this note reached him an hour after his discovery of his daughter's "flight. Mounting his horse he rode at full speed to The Hollies ; and, without waiting to be an- 180 PKETTT MKS. GASTON. nounced, abandoning all ceremony, driven by the one passionate thought that his child was there, the un- happy father, with his pride all broken in his breast, hastened up the staircase, opened the door, beyond which he heard voices, and an instant afterwards was holding Marian ia his arms, kissing and fondling her with sobs and tears, and promises to love and cherish her always if she would only live and love him, ' So mighty is the father's heart under all the sordid trappings of a worldly philosophy ! Mrs. Gaston had truly informed Mr. Ormby in her note that Marian had a very dangerous attack of fever ; and as the day wore on the fever gathered strength. "When night came the poor girl was delirious, and talked incessantly of George Cleave, of her father, and of some one whose name she did not pronounce — from actual dis- gust it seemed — who could have been none other than Mr. Gartrell. Then her mind wandered to her night walk — to the scene on the highway — and so the sick girl muttered on and on, watched by her friends, but more than all by Mr. and Mrs. Ormby, whose very hearts seemed breaking. Harrington had ridden to Waterf ord in the forenoon and returned to The Hollies with Dr. Williams and — George. The young man was quite pale and still. He sat on the veranda, his eyes fixed upon the lawn, the scene so short a time before of mirth and laughter ; and this gaze was so immovable and apathetic that it was plain the youth was nearly, stunned. From time to time, as PRETTY MRS. GASTON. 181 Harrington descended to mix some medicine, lie turned his liead and fixed his eyes upon his friend's face. "A fever, George — ^from exposure and agitation. Bad, to be frank with yon — ^but not serious — yet." Harrington Tvould then go up-stairs again ; and so the day, then the night, then the next day, and the next night passed, George Cleaye remaining almost all his •waking hours upon the veranda listening. He had taken up his abode at The Hollies, by Mrs. Gaston's re- quest. He waited for the decision which he felt would be life or death to his heart. This decision came on the night of the third day. Marian fell asleep at dusk ; and Harrington sat watching her with a fixed, immovable gaze which indicated plainly his profound anxiety. An hour passed, then another; there was still no change, and the young physician grew more and more anxious, his gaze more fixed and intense. At last he drew a long breath of relief. An almost im- perceptible alteration had taken place in the appearance of the sleeper. The hot blood in her cheeks seemed slowly to retire ;' her pulse, when he lightly laid his finger upon it, throbbed less violently, and toward midnight a slight, pearly moisture diffused itself over the white fore- head. The crisis of the fever was passed. Harrington an- nounced the fact to her father, who had scarcely left her day or night. ''AH depends now upon moral influences," added Har- rington. ''I have informed you, Mr. .Ormby, that the real ori^n of this attack was obviously mental distress. 183 PBETTY MRS. GASTOlir. If you are aware of the cause of that distress, I advise you to remoye it." Mr. Ormby moved his head slowly up and down. As he did so, Marian opened her eyes, and when her father came to her, she placed her arms around his neck, smiled faintly, and kissed him. He laid the thin cheek against his own, his eyes filled with tears, and he whispered : "Shall I go and tell — George — ^that your father and mother consent to — ^your marriage with him ? " The sunshine in the poor girl's eyes rendered any reply unnecessary. "I will go tell him now — this very moment. I am not so bad a father as you think, my dear, my own Marian ! " And ten minutes afterwards George Cleave knew two things — ^that Marian would recover, and that she would be his wife. PEETTT MKS. GASTOIT. 183 CHAPTEK XXXII. ME. BROWW DEPARTS. WHEN Mr. Allan Gartrell woke after the slight attack of drowsiness consequent upon drinking that moderate supply of champagne — only three bottles — which we haye alluded to, he stretched himself, yawned, experienced a fiKght headache, and what was equally dis- agreeable, a Tague, uneasy consciousness that he had done something excessiyely imprudent. What was this imprudence ? Oh yes ! — and Mr. Gar- trell turned a little pale. He had insulted his friend Mr. Brown; insulted him; had characterized him as a "puppy," and, unless his memory was treacherous, had hurled, or been about to hurl a bottle at his head ! The remembrance of this scene caused a slight per- spiration to gather upon Mr. GartreU's forehead. It was plain that he had offered a gross indignity to his dear friend, and having swallowed nearly half a tumbler of brandy to fortify his shattered nerres, Mr. Gartrell rang the bell, to send for Mr. Brown and apologize. 184 PBBTTT MKS. GASTON. " Tell Mr. Brown I will be glad to see him for a few moments," he said to the servant, "and mind, you rascal I be polite ! Mr. Brown is one of my best friends !" The servant did not go, whereupon Mr. G-artrell burst into vituperative epithets demanding why he stood there like a calf. "Mr. Brown is gone away, sir. He left a letter on the mantel-piece." "Gone away!" "He had the light carriage hitched up, and Joe drove him to Waterf ord, sir. Afterwards, in the evening, Joe drove him, he says, to the railroad, and he went away on the cars." Mr. Gartrell seized the letter, forgetting in his agita- tion to utter a single oath. It ran as follows : " Amiable Me. Allak G-arteell : Your unappreci- ated friend, Mr. John Brown, presents his compliments, and begs to state that not finding a longer stay at your hospitable mansion agreeable to his feelings, he has re- luctantly concluded to tear himself away. "You will readily conceive that under the peculiar cir- cumstances, he, your friend Brown, would not have, come to this determination without good reasons. But insults have been uttered, taunts employed, intimations made, that a further sojourn on the part of Mr. Brown at the residence of Mr. Gartrell would be unwelcome to the pro- prietor of the establishment. "So for the present Mr. Brown defers the further prosecution of the business which brought him to this PRETTY MES. GASTOIT. 185 country — ^the purchase, that is to say, of lumber for sale in the New York market. Whether Mr. Brown will he able so far to command his feelings as to forget the unpleasant scene above obscurely alluded to, and return to the mansion of Mr. GartreU, the future will determine. "At present, with a heart deeply wounded, feelings lacerated, and a melancholy which causes his tears to flow, he presents his respects to Mr. Gartrell, and sub- scribes himself Mr. GartreU's " Most obedient humble servant, "JOHJSrBBOWK." Mr. Allan Gartrell perused this note with an expression of unmistakable terror. Haying read it slowly through once, he went back and read it through again ; studying it, as it were, sentence by sentence and word by word. If an opinion could be formed from the appearance of Mr. GartreH's countenance, his effort to discoTcr what he sought was unsuccessful. He sat there for a long time, gazing stupidly at the paper, knitting his brows, and looking extremely gloomy. At last he started up, and uttered a violent oath. "Curse him ! let him go !" he growled. "Let him try ! I defy him to " He stopped, muttering. Then he went and poured out some more brandy. "What a devil of a man that Brown is !" he said with a reckless laugh ; " and decidedly I think I will miss the old muff!" 186 PRETTY MES. GASTOK. On the morning after this scene, as Mr. Gartrell was drinking - brandy as usual, a step was heard upon the portico, a knock resounded, and a moment afterwards the attentiye James announced Mr. Jobson, who came into the apartment. • At sight of the lawyer Mr. Gartrell assumed a stifi and formal air. ''You wish to see me — Mr. Jobson, from "Waterford, I think?" "Yes, sir." "Your business, sir ?" Mr. Jobson had not been iuTited to sit down, but he now proceeded to do so, looking at Mr. Gartrell over his spectacles. " I called to see you once before, sir," he said quietly, "but did not find you at home. My business is to have a few words on the subject of the codicil to the late Mr. Cleave's will, which I beg to inform you, before going further, was not worth the paper it w^s written on, as it was not witnessed." Thereupon Mr. Jobson proceeded, with great coolness, to business ; spoke of the extreme hardship of not releas- ing to George Cleave, after his magnanimous surrender of the estate, any portion of it ; and ended by urging upon Mr. Gartrell, as a course dictated by common pro- priety, some provision for his cousin. Mr. Jobson had visited Mr. Allan GartreU at an unfor- tunate moment — ^which does not, however, involve the statement that under any circumstances his course would have been other than that which he now pursued. PEETTY MRS. GASTON. 187 «l '• Curse my cousin ! " said Mr. Gartrell, scovling ; ''■■what the devil haye I to do with him ? My uncle left me this property if that marriage did not take place — with Miss Bell ; well, has he married her ? " "You know the circumstances, Mr. G-artrell " " Curse the circumstances ! " interrupted Mr. AUan Gartrell, becoming angry ; " are you sent here by Cleave to do his begging ? " "I am not, sir," said Mr. Jobson with unalterable sang froid, bestowing a curious glance upon the speaker over his spectacles. There was something so singular in this look that even Mr. Gartrell noticed it. It might almost have been said that Mr. Jobson was doing what he never did — smiling. " What brought you, then, old parchment-face ? " said Mr. Gartrell with a sudden access of humor, due to the brandy ; "any money in the affair, do you think — eh ?" "I expect none, sir." " Come ! speak out, old black-gown ! Say half; will that do?" Mr. Gartrell burst into sudden laughter, adding : "Well, I see we can't come to an understanding. Have some brandy, Jobson ?" Mr. Jobson politely declined and rose. "Mr. Gartrell," he said quietly, with the former ghost of a smile upon his thin lips, " I do not often throw away my time, but I have deliberately done so to-day, I see. I will not further trouble you on this business this morn- ing. Is Mr. Brown here ? A most worthy gentleman — your friend Mr. Brown ! " 188 PRETTY MRS. GAST03S". And with the air of a personage who has perpetrated an excellent jest, Mr. Jobson put on his hat and took his departure. For some moments Mr. Gartrell looked after him in silence. Then he muttered with an uneasy air : " Brown ? Does he know Brown ? Is there some- thing under all this ? That old wooden-head was laugh- ing at somethiag ! "What was it ? " PRETTY MRS. GASTON. 189 CHAPTBE XXXIII. WHICH TREATS OF THE MYSTERIOUS MOTEMEKTS OF MR. JOBSOIS". ALL the way back to Wateriord Mr. Jobson con- tinued to indulge in that covert smile, and once or twice a low sound escaped from his lips which actually- resembled a chuckle. Having reached the town he rode up the main street with the air of a gentleman at peace with himself and all the world ; stopped in front of his office ; dismounted, hitched his horse to an old rack, much gnawed by the horses of chents ; and going into the office found himself face to face with George CleaTe, who held a law-book before him and was — ^thinking of Marian. "Well, my young friend," said Mr. Jobson, "a fine day, and you seem to be deep in the law. That's well — a hard mistress, and requires, says a great man, the luculrationes viginti annorum." " Which will bring me to forty-five — ^nearly as old as vou are, Mr. Jobson !" The young man's face was radiant ; his voice hke music. A few moments on the veranda at The HoUies had caused that. 190 PRETTY MRS. GASTON. " As old as I am ! I am sixty — every day of it I I am an old la-w parchment — did not my dear friend, Mr. Gartrell, say as much ? — and you, you are a nosegay with the dew on it!" Having indulged in this unwonted outburst of poetry, Mr. Jobson came up to George Cleave, sat down beside him, drew his chair close, leaned over, and looking at the young man over his spectacles, said in a low tone : "Are you discreet? Can you keep a little secret? — for twenty-four hours ? " "A secret, Mr. Jobson ! I think I can." "Listen then!" And in a whisper Mr. Jobson made a hurried commu- nication at which Cleave visibly started. His eyes were fixed upon Mr. Jobson with the profoundest surprise ; the law-book escaped from his grasp, and he did not pick it up ; and, with this air of stupefaction almost, he re- mained silent, listening to the end. "Good heavens — !" he exclaimed, at last. "That's enough!" said Mr. Jobson, suddenly rising. "Keep quiet, and remember — ^to-morrow at noon !" "Yes, yes!" Thereupon Mr. Jobson went out of his office, walked down the street, and, reaching the office of Dr. Ealph Harrington, opened the door without ceremony and went in. Harrington had just come back from The HoUies, and never was the fulness of joy more plainly written on the human face. This human being seemed to have had some elixir of life suddenly infused into his frame. His PRETTY MES. GASTON. 191 pale clieeks had grown ruddy ; his dull eyes as brilliant as light itself ; and the lips which so recently had ex- pressed only disgust and weariness with all around him, seemed never done with smiling. Ealph Harrington was, indeed, the picture of abounding joy — a joy which had come to him Uke a burst of sunshine, on that moon- light night at The Hollies. "Well, Doctor!" " Come in, come in, my dear friend ! Delighted to see you. What news ? " " The news that miracles have not ceased — that a man as thin as a shadow and as white as a ghost can be made a stout fellow with the reddest cheeks I ever saw, in a week ! " Harrington laughed like a boy. " Well, such miracles take place sometimes ! " "I see one !" "\feel one!" " So you and George Cleave are going to marry your sweethearts — the right ones — after aU, eh ?" "I hope so ! what would you have, my dear Mr. Job- son ? It is a man's fate to be entrapped — to be induced reluctantly to perpetrate matrimony at some period, sooner or later, in his mortal existence ! A hard fate, my dear friend — ^but how are we to avoid it ? Struggle as you wiU — make all the good resolutions imaginable — resolve that you will not desert the noble array of bachelors — and some day you find that your fate is sealed — that you are tied tightly to the apron string of some little Blue Eyes \" 193 PEETTY MRS. GASTOS. " Annie's eyes are not blue," said Mr. Jobson, putting in his protest. Thereat Ealph Harrington burst into laughter once more, and actually colored a little. " You are a terrible personage," he said, " and I see that nobody can mislead you. "Well, yes, yes ! my dear Mr. Jobson, let me cease my jests and say that I am as happy as a child this morning. I have had trouble enough in the last few months to break down the strongest, but Heaven be thanked it is over — ^yes, my dear sir, I shall be married, I hope, to a person you know in a month ! " " Good — ^very good ! " said Mr. Jobson. "A fortunate thing for both ; and if I am not very much mistaken, the noble army of bachelors will miss tliree of its recruits instead of two — ^the third being Mr. J. Daintrees." " Yes — it is as good as announced. An excellent fel- low — Daintrees. " " As honest a man as I know, and has a good estate, as you have a good professional income, which is equivalent. Kow for G-eorge Cleave. He is the only poor bridegroom. Let us come to George Cleave, and let me tell you what I have just told him," Mr. Jobson then proceeded to make a communication to Dr. Ealph Harrington, which caused that gentleman to stop suddenly as he was lighting a cigar, and gaze at the speaker with astounded eyes. " You are surely not in earnest ! " " I was never more in earnest in my life." " And — ^to-morrow ?" PRETTY MES. GASTON. 193 "At noon. Don't fail." And Mr. Jobson went out of the office without further ■words. He stopped then for a moment and looked around in a hesitatiag manner. "Yes — ^it is best I suppose," he muttered. He then walked down the street, stopped in front of the county jail, the iron-studded door revolved at his knock, and he disappeared within. A quarter of an hour afterwards he came out, went to his own residence — a comfortable house in the outskirts of the town — and entering, ascended the stairs. As he reached the second floor, Mrs. Jobson, a buxom dame in a cap, came out of her chamber, and exclaimed : "Oh! Mr. Jobson!" ""Well, madam," said Mr. Jobson, looking at the lady over his large spectacles. " Oh ! Mr. Jobson ! " repeated ,the lady, breathing quickly in an extremely agitated manner. "That is not an observation from which it is possible to derive any precise information," said Mr. Jobson with unwonted humor. " Oh ! there's somebody in the green-room ! There is no doubt of it, Mr. Jobson ! We heard him wa|lking about!" " HiTTi ? why not her?" said Mr. Jobson. " The steps were too heavy ! and the door is locked, for Molly tried it ! and — and — ^you seem to think noth- ing of my agitation, Mr. Jobson ! you don't believe me ! and yet I lieardl — Mr. Jobson, there's somebody in that room ! " 19.4 PKETTY MBS. GASTOK. "Nonsense, Mrs. Jobson," was the cool reply. "I have always told you that your nerves would be the death of you. You fill me with anxiety, Mrs. Jobson ! Your pale and wasted appearance leaves no doubt of the state of your nervous system. You require a doctor, Mrs. Jobson ! " Which was the crowning joke of Mr. Jobson on this day of unwonted jocosity — ^for the good lady was as plump and ruddy as he was wiry and parchment-like in countenance. " There," he suddenly said, "I see your friend Mrs. Jones is coming up the steps, madam, to make you a visit." "Mrs. Jones ! I must change my dress ! she is so particular, and notices everything ! " The lady hastened into her chamber, and closed the door. Then it suddenly opened again, and she ex- claimed : "There's somebody in that room, Mr. Jobson! I heard them with my own ears ! " Then the chamber door closed — this time finally. As soon as Mr. Jobson was satisfied that the enemy had retreated he went to the door of the mysterious apartment, gave a peculiar knock, said, "It is I !" and the door opened, closed upon him, and was locked again. The consequence was that when Mrs. Jobson came forth in full toilet, prepared for further allusions to the noise in the green-room, Mr. Jobson was nowhere to be seen. PKBTTT MBS. GASTON. 195 CHAPTER XXXIV. WAITING. AT about half-past eleTen in the forenoon, on the day after these scenes, Mrs. Gaston and Annie Bell were seated in the drawing-room at The Hollies, looking intently through the windows opening on the veranda, and evidently awaiting the amval of some person or persons. The two gracious and beautiful creatures seemed to suit the place and time. They might have been taken for sisters, so youthful did the rich complexion of her rosy cheeks and the shrinking little smile of Mrs. G-aston make their owner appear — and this resemblance was in- creased by the dresses which they wore ; dresses made of precisely the same material and cut — ^by orders from Miss Annie — ^in the very same fashion. This identity in costume was Miss Annie Bell's fantasy, and she despoti- cally carried out her caprice down to the least details. Each wore a little bow of pink ribbon above the corsage ; each skirt was flounced and ornamented mth rosettes ; and crowning triumph of despotism ! — supreme indica- tion of the fact that the pretty Mrs. Gaston was wax in her companion's hands ! — ^the hair of the fair widow had 1% PKETTT MRS. GASTON: been arranged by Annie in the last fashion, and a rose- bud nestled there, as one nestled in her own glossy ringlets. The faces smiled and were as fresh as the rosebuds. And The Hollies smiled too. A bright August sun poured its glory on the trees ; a slight wind pushed the white clouds across the sea of blue ; and the birds were singing and the flowers blooming as they seemed to sing and bloom nowhere else in all the world, except here at this nest of doves — The Hollies ! So The Hollies that day and its inmates were a charming spectacle. But listen ! — this poetic repose is about to be disturbed. Hoofs are heard on the road beyond the grounds ; the rider approaches the gate ; it opens and shuts with a clang, and Mr. Jack Daintrees dismounts and approaches the house. Annie looks at Mrs. Gaston with her wicked and mis- chievous smile — at pretty Mrs. Gaston, whose cheeks re- semble peonies in fuU'bloom. "I think I have left my handkerchief up-stairs. Auntie!" "You little goose !" is the murmured reply, "there it is in your belt ! " " Oh yes ! — I didn't mean my handkerchief ! My work-basket ! my work-basket ! " "No, Annie ! — ^no ! I do not wish " " But — my Uncle Jack ! Think, Auntie ! what will my Uncle Jack say if he — sees me idle ! " "No !" And Mrs. Gaston holds the young witch by her dress. PBETTT MPS.. GASTOlSr. 197 " Let me go. Auntie I " "]Sro— no!" Suddenly Mrs. Gaston smiles and quietly releases her. "WeU, go, as you are so anxious to do so !" Annie laughs in immense enjoyment and is about to dart away. "I suppose I can entertain both, my dear I" And Mrs. Gaston smiles. "Both, Auntie?" "I mean Dr. Harrington, too. I see him just coming through the gate ! " Annie suddenly stops and turns her head toward the window. Dr. Ralph Harrington is dismounting and ap- proaches the house. ''You will scarcely have time to get your work-basket, dear ! " says Mrs. Gaston, with a httle laugh, which makes her charming ; whereat Miss Annie darts at her and exclaims : " You are the sliest, most improper, most Oh ! what an absurd small auntie I have ! " She then vanishes from the apartment, as though to disappear up-stairs ; but in some mysterious manner she happens to be at the door when Ealph Harrington reaches it. A little murmur is heard — a slight noise of a singular sort ; a brief, quick, incomprehensible sound, as if — ^but the sound is indescribable ; and then Dr. Har- rington enters and salutes Mrs. Gaston and Mr. Dain- trees — Miss Annie making her appearance about five minutes afterwards, singing innocently as she trips down- stairs, and into the room, where she politely salutes the gentlemen. 198 PKETTT MBS. GASTOM". CHAPTEE XXXV. IK CONCLAVE. THE HOLLIES on this morning seemed destined to be overwhelmed with visitors. Ho sooner had Dr. Harrington and Mr. Daintrees taken their seats than the front gate again revolved on its hinges, and Mr. Ormby came in, Mrs. Ormby being np-stairs already with Marian. And then Mr. Ormby had scarcely finished his polite and elaborate greeting of the company, when that per- petual motion of a gate once more opened, and George Cleave made his appearance with Mi-. Jobson. The personages thus assembled at The Hollies — with the single exception of Mr. Jobson — ^looked at each other with an astonishment which every moment increased. There was evidently some mystery under this singular meeting of so many persons at the same place and at the same hour. Each looked at the other, as though to de- mand an explanation ; but no one seemed able to give this explanation; and a sudden silence ensued — one of those "awful pauses" which prove mortal to social enjoyment in a drawing-room. PBETTY MKS. GASTON. 199 At this critical moment, Mr. Jack Dalntrees rushed gallantly to the rescue. Clearing his throat in order to hear his own voice and give himself courage, Mr. Dain- trees assumed a winning smile, crossed one leg with an easy and jaunty air over the other, and said : "It really would appear that we had all met here by appointment. " "Yes, really," said some one. " That this was a general rendezvous arranged before- hand," continued Mr. Jack Daintrees, habituated now to the sound of his voice and gathering courage. "It certainly does seem so," from another of the com- pany. "But what is the explanation?" said Mr. Daintrees extending one finger argumentatively. " It is impossible that everybody could have visited The Hollies to-day for the reason which has brought me." At these words a smothered laugh was heard; and looking in the direction of the laugh, the company per- ceived Miss Annie Bell concealing her laughing counte- nance with her little lace-fringed handkerchief. All eyes agaiu turned to Mr. Daintrees. Mr. Daintrees was so very red in the face that he seemed in danger of apo- plexy. In fact, Mr. Daintrees's reasons for visiting The Hollies might be conjectured ! "That is— hem— !" Mr. Daintrees laughed rather faintly. " Suppose we each inform our friends here assembled, if there is any appointment." This proposal of Mr. Daintrees was not destined to 300 PBBTTT MKS. QASTON. result in an explanation at that moment of the mysterious gathering. As he spoke, the gate again opened, a horse- man came in and dismounted ; and this horseman, as he drew near, was seen to be no less an indiyidual than — Mr. Allan Gartrell. As Mr. Gartrell approached the veranda, Mr. Jobson rose gravely, and said: "I have listened in silence to your conjectures, my friends, not regarding it as necessary to explain an as- semblage which I may as well now say I am responsible for. Bach guest of Mrs. Gaston's here assembled has come in consequence of a note or request from myself, to be present at an interview of the gravest and most im- portant character. One person only has come at the in- vitation of another — Mr. Ormby wrote asking the pres- ence of Mr. Gartrell. He has arrived, and now the number will soon be complete." Mr. Gartrell entered, and bowed stifQy. The number of persons present evidently astonished him. Observing Mr. Ormby, who was seated in a large arm-chair near the rear window, he approached him, took his seat with an easy air, or what was meant to be such, and said: " I received your note, sir, asking me to call and see you here, and here I am." The last words were uttered with a slight accent of defiance. Mr. Allan Gartrell evidently began to feel un- easy, and had recourse in consequence of that fact to his air of indifference — as of one who cared nothing for the friendship or hostility of any one present. While he was speaking the eternal gate once more PRETTY MRS. GASTON", SOI opened to admit a last -visitor. This time, howeTer, the latch made no noise, or. the Toice of Mr. Gartrell pre- vented it from attracting the attention of the company. Mr. Ormby did not offer at the instant any definite ex- planation, such as Mr. Gartrell's observation seemed to demand ; but he cleared his throat in a loud, resounding, and elaborate manner, which was perhaps the reason why a step upon the veranda was not heard. Thereat Mr. Grartrell seemed to become irritated, and exhibited unmistakable evidences of patrician hauteur. He grew red in the face, rose from his chair, pushing it back angrily as he did so, and said : " I did not come here, sir, to sit and be stared at by you and your friends ! You wrote saying that you wished to see me. Here I am — what is your business with me ?" "1 will answer that question," said a voice at the door. " All these little mysteries will be soon explained, my dear Mr. Wilkes J" And the smiliag, the benevolent, the beaming Mr. John Brown came into the apartment. Z02 PBETTT MKS. GASTOB". CHAPTER XXXVI. ME, BEOWN" BEGIIfS. IT is wliolly impossible to convey an adequate idea of the extreme benevolence with which Mr. Brown beamed upon the assembled company. This benevolence overflowed in his eyes and shone in his smile. The thumb of his left hand was inserted in the armhole of his ample waistcoat ; his right hand was extended with a gentle, persuasive, and touching grace — ^he had the air of the stage-father who says, "Bless you, my children !" The good Mr. Brown even beamed upon Mr. Allan Gartrell, or — as he had called him, no doubt, through inadvertence or forgetfulness — Mr. "Wilkes. But Mr. Gartrell, or Mr. "Wilkes, was so unfriendly as not to recip- rocate this sentiment ; he suddenly started up, grew very pale, and was evidently revolving the question in his mind whether he should not rush upon Mr. Brown, over- turn him, and make his exit safely from the room. "No," said Mr. Brown, extending his hand toward Mr. Gartrell, and shaking his head slowly from side to side, with a sweet smile upon his lips, "N"o — don't try that, my dear young friend. It will not do. The thing will hang fire. I am able myself to deal with you — per- PRETTY MRS. GASTOlf. 203 fectly able — but in ordQr to save myself that trouble I have a friend in the passage. I have just heard him enter. He came in by my request at the back door, and I now hear him coughing modestly behind his hand, and think I see him there with a stick beneath his arm." In fact, a shght cough was heard from the passage without, which cough issued from the lips of a gentle- man resembling a bull dog — a friend of Mr. Jobson's from the county jail. "life," said Mr. Brown, with a smiling and didactic air, "is fuU of mysteries ; but, sooner or later, these mysteries are cleared up, and I have come this morning to this most agreeable residence to clear up one of the most interesting that I have ever met with during twenty years spent in arduous labor as — a member of the detec- tive police in Scotland Yard, London." In the midst of a stir of astonishment Mr. Brown con- tinued : "Up to the present moment, my friends, it is probable that no one of this company has indulged a surmise even upon the subject of the identity or non-identity of the gentleman sitting yonder, and passing under the name of Allan GartreU, Esq. It is my agreeable duty now to throw light upon his real name and character. My friend's baptismal and family designations are not Allan Gartrell, but Charles, or familiarly, Charley Wilkes. He is not the nephew of the late Mr. Hamilton Cleave, of Cleave- land, but one of the most brilliant, the most skilful, and I will add iQOst elegant and popular ot the fast men, and — ^burglars — of London." 304 . PEETTT MES. GASTOK. As Mr. Gartrell, or rather Mr. Wilkes, wlio liad sunk again into his seat, suddenly rose again at these ■words, Mr. Brown drew forth a large bandanna handkerchief from the inner left breast-pocket of his coat, displaying, casually, as he did so, the handle of his revolver. "Sit down, my friend," he said benevolently; "it will be useless to attempt anything in the way of resistance. I have a little persuader about me, which I am used to handling ; and even if you fired upon me — I see you are -armed — my friend in the passage would secure you." "You have no warrant!" came in a furious growl from the pale Mr. Gartrell- Wilkes. "Oh! what a mistake!" returned Mr. Brown, draw- ing a paper from his pocket. "I have one in due form — from ministerial headquarters:— all regular. But we are losing time. Let me proceed, my friend. The company I see is impatient, and I have a most interesting series of events to relate." Overcome by Mr. Brown's sang froid, or convinced that all resistance was impossible, Mr. Gartrell- Wilkes sat down, leaned back in his chair, assumed a careless and defiant expression, and did not offer any further interruption. " Ah I " said Mr. Brown, " I see that you are a man of reason after all, my dear sir. You know when to assume the ofEensive and when to observe a masterly inactivity. Eemain silent therefore, and let me tell my interesting story. There are portions of it which will be new to you, my friend, as well as to this honorable company, I think!" PRBTTT MES. GASTOJST. 205 . CHAPTEE XXXVII. ME. BEOWIf CONTIS'UES. CLEAEING- his throat, gazing around him more benevolently than before, and assumiag his sweet- est tones, Mr. Brown continued : " Let me adopt the style of my English literary friends — as follows : On a handsome street of Liverpool stands the banking house of Thompson Brothers, and on a pleasant afternoon, a stranger of distinguished appear- ance might have been seen entering the banking house and presenting a check, calling for the payment to the bearer of the sum of one thousand pounds sterUng. Let me describe more particularly the appearance of the dis- tinguished stranger — ^but no, I shall grow tedious if I adopt the literary style. Let me be terse, my friends — terse as my favorite novel writer. The check for one thousand pounds was promptly paid, as it was drawn by one of the most prominent merchants of Liverpool, and it was only two days afterwards that it was discovered to be a forgery. Thereupon Thompson Brothers telegraphed to London for a detective — as the Liverpool police could 206 PKBTTY MES. GASTON'. do nothing for them — and I was sent down. The case was an embarrassing one. There seemed no possibility of identifying the distinguished stranger ; all that the clerk could say was that he had observed a singular scar upon one of the gentleman's temples. This fact was only mentioned on the day after my arrival, in the most casual manner ; but it gave me at once the clue. I well knew a gentleman with a scar on his temple — a fast gen- tleman about London, who had been mixed up in some ugly affairs, but had slipped out of them. It occurred to me in a word that the forger was Mr. Charley WUkes, whom I had not seen for sometime, in his old haunts, and I began my hunt for that gentleman. "It would weary you, my friends, to expatiate upon the methods employed by the respectable corps to which I belong — I refer to the detective police — to follow up an affair of this description. Suffice it to say that I tracked my friend to London, found that he had left that city two days before my arrival ; then I went over to France, discovered that he had not landed at Calais ; came on his track again at Brussels, which he had reached by way of Antwerp, and thence followed him by means of the pass- port office through Germany to the Prussian frontier, where his passport had been visM, to Berlin. "At Berlin I found everything in commotion at the banking house of Stralsund & Company. A check, drawn by the wealthiest dealer in hides in all Berlin, had been presented at the bank in which their funds were deposited, paid without suspicion, and the bank suddenly discovered itself minus the sum of two thousand thalers. PRETTY MRS. GASTOK. 307' paid to a forged check. Wlien they sought for the distin- guished stranger who had presented the check, he was nowhere to be found, and I only came upon his traces again, always by means of that lucky system of passports, at Vienna. When I intimate that I pursued the same routes of trayel adopted by my distinguished friend, and was enabled to do so through the instrumentality of the excellent, but sometimes embarrassing, passport system, I do not mean that I ascertained at the passport bureaus that Mr. Charles Wilkes, citizen of England, with resi- dence at London, had left such a place at such a time for such a city. I was too averse to losing my time to indulge in any inquiries for "Mr. Charles Wilkes." I requested everywhere a sight of the official records at the passport offices, announcing my object; they were po- litely opened to my inspection, and I looked for a sigtial- ment relating to a gentleman of from twenty-eight to thirty, of ruddy complexion, vigorous stature, dark hair, pleasing address, and — with a scar upon Ins left temple. I was not left unrewarded. I found at Antwerp that the Baron von Kahmburg, who had obtained a passport to visit Berlin, was disfigured by the scar in question ; and at Berlin by a remarkable coincidence the scar reappeared in the passport description of Mr. John Wilson, a respect- able English gentleman, who had set out two days before, for Vienna. "Well, at Vienna the police were in a state of real fury, of mental prostration, approaching despair. The princely magasin of AmhofE & Oq,, Jewellers, had been broken into on the night before. The persons sleeping 208 PKETTY MES. GASTOK. in the magasin had been deluged with chloroform, and plate and jewels to a fabulous value had been carried off by the burglars. The Austrian police, I regret to say, are rather too deliberate in their movements ; they did not investigate this unfortunate afEair until ten o'clock on the next day ; and even then they were unable to dis- cover the least traces of the perpetrators of this exten- sive burglary. All that one of the salesmen asleep in the store could say was that he had a dim recollection, just before losing consciousness under the effect of the chloroform, of seeing among the burglars a man with a scar on Ms left temple, who appeared to be the leader of the gang. I was present at the investigation; and when I heard this testimony I went directly to the oflSce of passports. M. le Chevalier Gautry, who had obtained a passport to visit Geneva, on the day before, had, by the strangest of coincidences, a scar on Ms left temple ! "1 need not say, my friends, that the afEair of the burglary at Vienna had now ceased to interest me. I walked back toward my hotel, musing quietly upon the subject of M. le Chevalier Gautry, and was so lost in ad- miration of that gentleman and his proceedings that an unfortunate accident happened to me. The day was rainy, and the streets very slippery. I was passing from one side of the street to the other when the fine equipage of a young Viennese nobleman — or rather the horses — ran against me ; I lost my footing, fell, the equipage went over me, and my leg was broken: to the great regret, I ought to say, of the yoraig nobleman, who immediately PBETTY MES. GASTON. 209 checked his horses, leaped out, raised me up, and offered me a thousand apologies. "Unfortunately these polite assurances of his yery great regret did not heal the fracture in my leg. I -was conveyed to my hotel, and remained on my back for a month — ^torturing myself, I must say, with the fear that my friend, the CheTalier Gantry, would not be at Geneva when I went to call upon him there. At last my broken bones were knit together again, I could walk by limping a little ; whereupon I paid my bill, sent a line to head- quarters in London, and took the railway for Geneva, where I arrived safely, and stopped at the handsome and well kept Hotel Beau Rivage, from which I moved how- ever on the next day to the Hotel Eussie." glO PSETTY MKS. GASTON. OHAPTEE XXXVIII. ME. BEOWN' CONCLUDES HIS EXPLANATIOK. •X"TTHBN Mr. Brown uttered the words "Hotel W Russie," Mr. Allan Gartrell, if we may con- tinue to address the gentleman by that name, exhibited very considerable interest, and looked at Mr. Brown with a dare-devil smile. "Your narrative grows highly interesting, my good sir," he said ; "continue — ^you have never told me about Geneva. " " I wished to reserve it as an agreeable surprise to you, my worthy friend," replied the smiling Mr. Brown. " There was little merit in my proceedings up to that moment — anybody might have followed the Baron von Eahmburg, Mr. John Wilson, and the Chevalier Gautry from Antwerp to Berlin, from Berlin to Vienna, and from Vienna to Geneva. That was all in the regular line of business — there were the passport oflaces, and a novice could not have blundered. But from and after Geneva the thing was different." "Let us hear," said Mr. Gartrell with an easy air, "the story becomes exciting." PEETTT MBS. GASTON. 211 "Delighted to interest you, my dear friend," said Mr. Brown; " I will then continue. I mentioned, I beliere, that I left the Hotel Beau Bivage on the day after my arrival at Geneva, to take up my quarters at the Hotel Russie. It is a charming hotel. The view like that from the Beau Rivage — ^but I must not linger on the charms of the landscape, of the handsome streets, of the — see Murray — I will continue. "My motive for transferring myself and my luggage to the Hotel Russie was the discovery at the office of pass- ports that the Chevalier Gautry, from Vienna, had a month before taken up his residence there ; and as the records did not exhibit the fact that the Chevalier had left Geneva, I committed what, I must say, was a great blunder in concluding that, for that reason, the Chevalier was stUl at the Hotel Russie. "I am very sorry to say that I discovered that the ChevaJier had disappeared about two weeks before ; and as my smiling friend, the landlord, seemed to have a a plenty of leisure on his hands, and to be fond of talk- ing, I encouraged him to communicate any items of in- terest relating to the Chevalier, which might be in his possession. I was amply rewarded for this chance sug- gestion. My friend, the landlord, suddenly glowed with interest. Anything relating to the Chevalier Gautry ! — ^he exclaimed. He could tell me a thousand things — a hundred anecdotes of this charming, this rav- ishing young nobleman ! He threw his money about like water ! he never looked at the items in a bill ! — he ordered the oldest wines, and paid for them without a 213 PEBTTT MES. QASTOM". ■word ! — ^he was a prince ! a prince ! I give you my word of honor, monsieur! — and it was no wonder that the English Milor Allan Gartrell, who alas ! had expired of fever at the Hotel Bussie, had become the Chevalier's bosom friend ! "At these words from my fat little host, I began to listen with the deepest attention. I encouraged my landlord to continue his remarks. I ascertained what foUows : "When the Chevalier Gautry reached the Hotel Russie a young Englishman, who had been on a visit to Kome, was lying very ill in the hotel. This young gentleman was a certain Mr. Allan Gartrell — evidently a person of ample means ; a very handsome and cordial person, and bore the strongest possible resemblance — a most extraordinary resemblance — to the Chevalier Gautry. Two days after the arrival of the Chevalier he had man- aged to become acquainted with 'Milor Gartrell,' and thenceforth scarcely an hour passed without a visit from the Chevalier to the sick man's apartment. The Cheva- lier watched over him, amused him, cheered him — was a veritable brother to the poor young Milor, my host as- sured me on his word of honor. Whenever any letters came the Chevalier would receive them and read them to his sick friend. Whenever the young Milor required an amanuensis the Chevalier was there to offer his services. He was a brother — a veritable brother ! — Had my friend, the landlord, I inquired, ever chanced to observe the post-mark on any letters received ? — Yes, one he had ob- served, as it was the last the young Milor ever received. It had the post-mark of the United States of America PBBTTT MES. GASTON. 313 upon it, and the Cheyalier Gautry took it, as usual, and went with it up to his friend's room. They remained long together — conyersing in reference to this letter it seemed, as in passing he, the landlord, had heard the rattle of paper mingling with the voices. This was nearly the last interyiew between Milor Gartrell and his friend. On that very night the young Englishman be- gan to sink. The doctor was summoned, but before his arrival the young Milor was dead of his fever, brought from the Pontine marshes to Geneva. " At this event, my landlord continued, the grief of the Chevalier Gantry was most touching. He wept, he cried aloud, he paid the funeral expenses of his friend without a word — and it was a magnificent funeral. Then, overwhelmed with grief, he paid his own large bill at the hotel, without looking at a single item, and left Geneva to return to England and inform Milor Gartrell's family of their irreparable loss." • Mr. Brown paused, and gazed around him with his blandest smile. "Such, my friends," he said, "was the highly inter- esting narrative which I heard from my excellent host at the Hotel Russie, in Geneva. It caused me to reflect deeply. There was under all this very evidently, some deeply interesting plot of my friend, the Chevalier Eahmburg-Wilson-Gautry-Wilkes ! And let me say at once with what I think you will regard, my friends, as modest and pardonable pride — ^let me say that in ten minutes, nay in one minute, I had discovered the Che- valier's daring ruse. The clue to this discovery waa that 314 PRETTY MES. GASTON. extraordinary resemblance that lie bore to Mr. Allan Gartrell, and I had not the least doubt that he had taken advantage of it for some purpose. You are obliged, my friends, in this singular trade of detecting criminals, to enter, as I may say, into the feelings and views of the person you are pursuing — and put yourself in his place. iiTo-w I knew that the Chevalier Gautry-Wilkes was a gentleman of great daring, and, above all, of vivid and kindling imagination — ^that to assume the name and character of a dead man would present itself with bril- liant attractions to a person like himself — and I did not lose sight of the further fact that nothing could have been more desirable to him at the time than to assume a new alias; to disappear as Mr. Gautry- Wilkes, and re- appear as Mr. Allan Gartrell. "The only thing which puzzled me," continued Mr. Brown, "was to determine whither Mr. Wilkes, iinder his new name of Gartrell, had gone. ISoi to England — he was much too intelligent for that, iffot even to Paris — ^there were many young Englishmen there who proba- bly knew the late Mr. Gartrell. I therefore concluded that the letter from America had si^ggested an idea to my friend, the Chevalier ; that he had been seized with an ardent desire to explore the magnificent natural scen- ery, and form his own opinion upon the complicated social relations of that great republic, the United States." Mr. Brown smiled modestly, and added : " You will perceive that I was burning, as the children say, my friends. I was right so far ; but a long and PRBTTT MES. GASTOiT. 215 ■weary chase was still necessary ; greater trouble than before to follow my friend. Good fortune came to my aid, howeyer — all the mystery was cleared up in a mo- ment. I had proposed to "visit New York first, from' which city Mr. Allan Oartrell would no doubt write to his banker in England for remittances, in his ordinary handwriting, so well knoA^m to his Geneva friend, the Chevalier ! but after New York, the real trouble of fol- lowing him would begin, as you have no passport system. Well, I was revolving all this in my mind at the Hotel Russie, Geneva, when — presto ! comes a letter for Allan Gartrell, Esq., forwarded from his Liverpool bankers. It was the second letter written by Mr. George Cleave announcing his intention to surrender Cleaveland to his cousin. I ascertained that fact by opening the letter — my host had intrusted it to me for delivery to Mr. Gar- trell's family in England, whither I told him I was going. "Thenceforward, my friends, all was plain sailing. I knew now, perfectly well, where I should find my friend the Chevalier "Wilkes-Gartrell. I came to New York, and thence to Waterford and Cleaveland, where I announced my real character — or rather recalled myself— to my friend Mr. "Wilkes. My stay was longer than I intended, but I became interested in this friendly little neighbor- hood and its affairs — ^I enjoyed the hospitahties of my friend Mr. Daintrees ; and I may add that I restored the sum of two thousand dollars, through my friend Mr. Jobson, to a young gentleman who lost it, owing to the great skill at cards of Mr. "Wilkes ! "A few words will finish this narrative, my friends," 216 PBBTTT MES. GASTON. said Mr. Brown. "I have said that I remained in the hospitable abode of Mr. Wilkes-Gartrell much longer than I intended ; but I hope Mr. Cleave will not charge me for his champagne consumed there, in consideration of my present services ! "Well, to end — I was much amused by my worthy friend's aim to ally himself with the honorable family of Mr. Ormby. I delayed further proceedings. I lingered, greatly interested, when one day Mr. Wilkes insisted on hurling a bottle at me, and I grew a little tired of him. I accordingly went away from his princely mansion — ostensibly departed on the railway for parts unknown ; but on the same night I made my way back to Waterford, and remainedL perdu in a private chamber of my excellent friend Mr. Jobson's, much to the agitation, I fear, of Mrs. Jobson. 'Need I say that everything had been arranged between myself and Mr. Jobson for this interesting explanation in the presence of everybody ? I called on him for that purpose on my way back one day from the residence of Mr. Ormby, and there, I must say, my heart bled at sight of a young lady who was pale, ill, fainting, dying nearly, from the brutal persistence of this man Wilkes to force her to marry him!" !N"o one would have supposed the benevolent counte- nance of Mr. Brown capable of assjiming a look so stern and forbidding as it assumed when he uttered these words. All his smiles had disappeared — all the tone of banter had gone out of his voice. It was a stem and indignant judge that stood there, ivith his eyes fixed on the face of Mr. Gartrell- Wilkes. PEBTTT MRS. GASTON. 217 And that gentleman betrayed an emotion, as the Tibra- ting voice resounded, which he had not before displayed. His careless and ironical air deserted him, his face filled with blood, and his hand went with a sudden moTcment to his breast. "A fine — a very fine sentiment !" he growled, "from — a common pohceman." Mr. Brown's eyes flashed. "It is better to be a common policeman than to be a thief — and a heartless scoundrel, sir," he said. "A scoundrel ! — ^beware !" "Beware of what ? Of your displeasure ? That might frighten children, my good sir ; it is a small thing to me!" "Take care—!" Mr. Brown fixed his eyes upon the speaker with an expression of contempt, which evidently galled that gen- tleman extremely. "Instead of measuring my words, my good Mr. Gau- try-WUkes," he said with immense disdain, "I will ex- press my meaning a Httle more clearly than before ! I came to this country with the simple view of performing my professional duty. I had no special disHke to you. I remained in your house, or rather in the house which you occupied, more amused than anything else with your skilful operations, and content to defer arresting you, until the humor to do so seized me. Your insolence to me was nothing — ^that is your nature. Your threats of personal violence were amusing, and I did not fear them. For your character I had, as I said, no very great dislike 218 PRETTY MES. SASTOIS^. —the result it may be of the fact that I am a « eommon policeman.' As such I am used to forgers and burglars like yourself— have perhaps lost my disgust for them ; but for some offences in men I have no pity ! " Mr. Gartrell-Wilkes looked as black as night. " Beware ! " he said again. "You are one of the swell-mob," continued Mr. Brown, "and to lie and steal is perfectly natural to you. But even the swell-mob gentlemen disdain to do some things. They are thieves, pickpockets, burglars, and laugh at the law. But I tell you, sir — and it will explain the great disgust I now feel toward you — that not the worst thief in iiondon, the meanest pickpocket, would have been guilty of this heartless scheme to break the heart of a mere child like Miss Ormby — or acted, as you have acted, with this coarse cruelty and cowardice ! " The words and tones of the speaker were full of such extreme contempt that Mr. Gartrell-Wilkes was stung to the quick, and lost his head. Eage carried him away ; his hand darted to his breast, and drawing a long and mur- derous-looking knife, he threw himself upon the cool Mr. Brown. That gentleman was, however, ready for him. His own hand had gone no less rapidly to his breast pocket — the barrel of his revolver sudd§jJ|j gleamed, and the muzzle was upon his enemy's breast.™ But the knife raised aloft did not fall, nor was the pistol discharged. The individual resembling a bull-dog had listened with great attention from the passage to the conversation which has been recorded, had approached the door, had seen the knife gleam — and, all at once a PKETTT MRS. GASTOK: 219 heavy stick descended upon the head of Mr. Gartrell- Wilkes, who staggered, reeled back, and ended by mea- suring his length upon the floor, where he was speedily handcuffed and secured by the constable. The company had started up in confusion. Mr. Brown THE IHDIVIDUAL BESEMBLIHa A BTTLL-DOa HAD LISTENED. alone preserved his air of perfect composure. He un- cocked his revolver, restored it to his breast pocket, and stood looking with philosophic interest upon the pros- trate and handcuffed figure. " A cool hand, a very cool hand — ^my friend, Mr. Charley Wilkes I" he said in a moralizing tone ; " one of 230 PBETTY MBS. GASTON. the coolest hands, in fact, I have ever known! His forgeries and burglaries did not distinguish him among the crowd of competitors — ^but this personation of a dead man indicated genius ! What a pity that a ' common poUceman ' should interfere ! Well, my hand is on him at last, and his game is played. He deserves his fate. A thief ? — that is bad, but not the worst thing about my friend. The meanest thief I know would have been ashamed of what this rascal has attempted — to break the heart of a poor girl, whose face reminded me of a little girl of my own in England ! " PBBTTT MRS. GASTON. 221 OHAPTEE XXXIX. XND THE CUKTATN- FALLS UPON THE COMEDY. OUE comedy — as we Tenture to style this little history of "Pretty Mrs. Gaston" — naturally ends with the happy termination of the love affairs embraced in it, and with the discovery that George Cleave was still the pro- prietor of Cleavelamd. A few words on the subsequent fates of the personages may, however, interest the reader. Let us take them in torn. George Cleave and Marian were married in the autumn, and went to Hve at Cleaveland as if nothing had hap- pened. The young man's title to the property was un- assailable upon either of two grounds. He had infor- mally surrendered it under a paper which had no legal force, from the absence of witnesses to attest it ; and if his title had been lost, it was restored by the death of the real Allan GartreU, from whom, as his nearest re- lative, he inherited. Thus Cleaveland was his own again, and as Mr. Ormby's property at Bayview was soon sold, that gentleman and Mrs. Ormby, at GeoTge'A earnest request, came to hve at Cleaveland, where Mr. Ormby for the next ten years promenaded on the long portico morning and evening, taking the landscape, as of old, under his protection. 22% PEETTT MBS. OASTOW. Kalph Harrington and Annie, and Mr. Jack Daintrees and pretty Mrs. Gaston were married at the same time — The Hollies blazing with lights in honor of the occasion. Ealph lives at " Tree Hill," near Waterford, and is per- fectly happy. And Mr. Jack Daintrees— but how shall we depict the bliss of Mr. Daintrees ? He wonders how he ever remained a bachelor so long. He is henpecked in a fearful manner, but not aware of the fact. He does not live at The Lodge — he lives at The Hollies, where he went to reside after a long but ineffectual struggle. Mr. Daintrees does not hunt the fox any more. He gives the gayest dinners, but is even losing his taste for that. He lolls in a dressing-gown and gorgeous slippers, smokes a great deal, and has a taste for landscape gardening. When not thus employed, he may be seen holding his wife's worsted, while she rolls it into a ball, gazing meanwhile with admiring eyes into one of the prettiest faces in the world. Of Mr. Jobson we need say nothing — ^these old law- machines run on in the same groove. And Mr. Brown and Mr. Wilkes may be dismissed in a few words. Mr. Brown went away with his friend in charge ; but Mr. Wilkes was a "cool hand" indeed, as he soon proved. He eluded his friend at one of the stations on the railway — was no more seen — ^but is supposed to have been recog- nized as a prominent citizen of Poker Plat, on the coasts of the Pacific, where he secures an ample maintenance by his skill at games of cards. The little neighborhood which we have visited, kind reader, soon settled down again and grew quiet. Every- PKETTY MRS. GASTOK. 223 body smiled at everybody, and plainly thought the "world around Waterford the best of all possible "worlds. I had heard of these events and went thither to spend the autumn. I was a guest at Tree Hill, and basked in the sunshine of a pair of eyes, the brightest and sweetest I ever saw — the eyes of " Annie Bell," at present Mrs. Ealph Harrington. One day we went over to dine at The Hollies, and that smiling nest of doves, upon which a bachelor hawk had intruded, was in all its glory. As the sun was setting behind a mass of piled-up orange clouds, I went with Mrs. Annie to a certain rustic seat of which I had heard — the seat where, on the night of the party, Ealph Harrington grew romantic. I smiled as I alluded to the scene, and Mrs. Annie blushed. ''Very well," she said, laughing through her roses, "but Auntie had a rustic seat, too ; yonder she comes — ask her if she did not ! " I looked up. Mr. and Mrs. Jack Daintrees were ap- proaching across the lawn ; the lady with her little timid smile and shy manner — the gentleman fat, good-humor- ed, and unrom antic. " What a very strange world we live in ! " said Annie laughing. "That is a sage observation — quite true in every particular — ^but your meaning, madam ? " "I mean that — I am married to Ealph, and — " She raised her hand, pointing to the approaching pair. " And here is the end of ' Pretty Mrs, Gaston ' I " ANKEE AT THE CORNER. CHAPTER I. FKOM A WINDOW. I AM not a married man, and I do not think that all my lady acquaintances are angels ; consequently, I am a miserable old bachelor. There is absolutely no doubt upon the subject, I am informed by my friends ; and so, because I think that something more than the want of wings distinguishes the fair from the other class, and because I spend my life in a suit of apartments, undisturbed by the musical laugh- ter of children — for these reasons, as I have said, I am a crusty, musty, miserable old unmarried misanthrope. I have been substantially notified of the fact more than once, by Miss Tabitha Einggold, who lives in the hand- some house opposite ; and though I am charitable, my friend, I should not be surprised if that fair lady were, at the present moment, directing her private spy-glass into 224 ANNIE AT THE COBNEB. 225 my chamber from behind her white curtain, a comer of which is, I perceive, slightly raised : I would not be at all surprised if Miss Tabitha were there, looking through the open window here, and lamenting the failure of science to discoTer ear-trumpets, such as might be used to catch a distant conTersation. Miss Tabitha often arrays herself in her best finery, and leans from the window, with nods and smiles, and silent invitations to come in, when I chance to pass. I do not accept these invitations often, as you will under- stand, if you listen further ; but sometimes I do go over and take a hand at whist in the small parlor ; in conse- quence of which, I am considered, I believe, an admirer of Miss Tabitha, and more than once my cynical and dis- courteous bachelor companions have gone so far as to declare that Miss Tabitha has long been engaged in the pleasing occupation of setting her maiden cap at me and my six per cents. Of course I do not give any credit to these scandalous jests and rumors, and I invariably re- prove Bob when he gives utterance to them. There is, of course, no truth in the charge, and I'm glad of it. I regret to say that, even if there were not other objections, I could not solicit the honor of a matrimonial alliance with Miss Tabitha — my affections being engaged. Ah ! do you start a little ? Do you look at me with astonishment, and ask, with your eloquent eyes, if I am not uttering a pleasant jest? /engaged — you seem to say with a change of the pronoun — I, the incorrigible old bachelor, the woman-hater, the misanthrope, the miserar ble, disagreeable, outrageous, old curmudgeon I My 336 ANNIB AT THE OOKNEE. affections engaged, when the utmost inquisition of femi- nine curiosity eternally on the watch, has never discov- ered the least loop to hang a report upon ? Well, my dear friend, perhaps there is some ground for surprise, and your astonishment is not singular. My engagement is certainly not exactly what the world would call bind- ing — and yet it binds me. Such things must frequently result in a matrimonial alliance between the man and the woman — at least sometimes : now, my engagement will not probably have any such termination. Gossips talk about Corydon, when he goes constantly to visit Chloe, in glossy patent leathers, a flowery waistcoat, hair ele- gantly curled, and a perfumed handkerchief gently waved in a diamond-decorated hand. They talk a great deal about that young man, and the talk rises into a hubbub, when the watchful eyes perceive the youth finally emerg- ing from the mansion of his love, with beaming eyes, and nose raised high aloft with triumph, while Chloe sends a golden smile toward him as he goes, from behind the curtain of the drawing-room. -The gossips, I say, talk about Corydon's engagement for a month thereafter; but the most inveterate and ferocious tattle never occu- pies itself with my little affair. I never speak of it ; the object of my affections pre- serves silence, too ; and not even Miss Tabitha suspects our little arrangement. If I tell you all about it now, good friend of many years, I do so because 'tis scarcely loyal to our friendship to have aught of reserve ; but, above aU, because my burden of thought and feeling cries aloud for utterance. , ANNIE AT THE COKNBR. 337 I linger on the thresliold — let me linger a moment longer yet, and ask you if I have never seemed eccentric to you ? Often in passing to your counting-house, you send me a friendly nod as I lean from my window in the sunshine; and, doubtless, you go on to your arduous toils, thinking what a happy fellow I am to afEord to be idle, when you and your whole establishment will all day be struggling to balance the books of the firm. You honestly consider me idle at such moments : my friend, I am never busier. You think me solitary: I am sur- rounded by companions. The street may be wholly deserted ; the city square yonder may not tempt a single child to enjoy its green sward and shadow — Miss Tabitha even may be busy at her invisible toilet, and her window deserted— yet I am not alone. When' the real figures of actual, living personages ap- pear, however, they do not, by any means, disturb my reveiy. I am not at war with my kind, but often find in the forms of men, women, and children what pleases me, and heightens the zest of my recollections. I lean upon the sill of my window, and, thrunmiing idly with my fingers, scan the difEerent wayfarers with smiling attention. I see my friend Dives with his jing- ling watch-seals, his creaking boots, his spotless shirt bosom, and his dignified look, go by to his warehouse, saluted respectfully by the heads of our two "first fami- lies " — the Scribes and Pharisees — ^who sometimes invite me to their palaces up town. And, as Dives disappears like a moving bank round the comer, I perceive Lazarus, with his maimed limbs, swinging himself by, on his 238 AKNIE AT THE COESTEK. hands, inserted in wooden glores — the shado-w of Ms low figure mingling with that of Dives. Of conrse I do not know Lazarus, as I move in good society : yet I am glad to see him with the cheerful smile on his pale, thin face ; and when he passes on this side of the street, I sometimes drop slyly a piece of money into his bosom, and laugh to myself, as I draw hack, fancying his puzzled expression. I related this incident at dinner, the other day, to my friend Dives and his guests ; hut he raised the question whether such things were advisable, the public charities being amply sufficient for meritorious sufferers, while individual relief encouraged pauperism and idleness. "But, my dear Dives," I said with a smile, "suppose the coin which I dropped bought some small articles for the children of Lazarus, and so gave them pleasure far greater than any I could have enjoyed by spending the money?" " The principle in the thing," repHed my friend, sip- ping his claret and shaking his head, "the principle is bad. As members of society, we are bound to observe the laws of society ; and as, in a state of society, we must be governed by the rules and regulations of that society, so I think, as a member of that society, you were rather bound to have this individual sent to prison as a vagrant on society, than to encourage him in what must event- ually render it necessary to make an example of him for the good of society." Those were the words of Dives ; and as my friend the Eeverend A. Caiphas asked me at the moment to take wine, the discussion was not resumed. I am obstinate. ANKIE AT THE COBNEE. 329 neTertheless, and shall probably continue to outrage the rules and regulations of " society," if the whim seizes me, when Lazarus passes beneath my window. I am running on pretty much at random, and shall not, at this rate, get to my story. But I take so much interest in my window obseryations, that I am led to weary you with them. A word more, and I shall get regularly to my narrative. Besides Dives and Lazarus, I see many other figures pass on the street. I see Strephon go by in the tightest boots, the finest kid gloves, and the glossiest hat, escort- ing Miss Ahnira, the daughter of old Two-per-cent ; and I stand, or rather lean, in silent admiration of her gorge- ous appearance, as she sails by, rustling in silks and satins, with a bird of paradise upon her bonnet. She has chosen to walk on account of the sunshine, and the great carriage, with its liveried driver and footman, rolls by, unoccupied. It is a pity that the poor girl yonder slink- ing round the comer, and looking so faint and weak, can not ride a little in it ; and I fancy Strephon might procure this favor for her, as the weak girl exchanges a look with him, which seems to indicate acquaintance. The three figures pass on, and disappear ; but somehow, the look of the pale, weak girl dwells in my memory, and haunts me. "Well, I weary you, good friend, and another word ends my window pictures. In addition to the figures I have mentioned, my observant eyes descry the merry forms of children dancing over the velvet sward of the public square — ^rolling their hoops, playing by the fountain, and shouting at their play. Their sweet faced 230 ANN'IE AT THE COKNEK. please me ; and the bright eyes seem to make the day more brilliant, the deep blue sky of a softer azure. It is only in the afternoon that I see them, for in the morn- ing they are at school. One of them wears a blue dress, and a white chip hat, secured beneath her chin by a pink ribbon — and, thus accoutred, she passes every morning to school, directly opposite my window. As I gaze, with my shoulders drooping, my fingers in- veterately thrumming, my eyes half-closed, and my hps wreathed with smiles, a little sad, perhaps, in their ex- pression, I see my little friend come tripping along by the row of elms, cased in their square boxes, and I am pleased to see her bright figure, lit up by the sunlight which dances on her curls, her straw hat, her checkered flag satchel, gaily swung upon the bare arm, and the little boots of crimson morocco, tightly fitting to her delicate ankles. I wait for her, and look for her appear- ance, and when she comes, I follow her with my eyes, as she arrives opposite, and then disappears round the comer. She is different from some other young ladies of my acquaintance, who pass on a similar errand. These latter look up as they pass, at my grizzled hair, my gray mustache, my carelessly thrumming fingers, and I know very well, that at such times, they are thinking who on earth the old fellow at the window can be ; the curious old fellow, always leaning from the very same opening, in the very same way, and smiling as he beats his tattoo, with the very same idle and dreamy expression. My little friend of the blue dress and white chip hat ANKIE AT THE COBNBE. 231 does not treat me quite so caTalierly. As she passes, every morning, she raiges her blue eyes, and smiles in the most winning way, nodding her head in token of re- cognition, and thus causing a profusion of brown curls to ripple around the brightest cheeks in the world. Having thus indicated the pleasure she experiences in seeing me smiling and well, my little friend kisses her hand, laughing, and tripping on more rapidly, to make up for lost time, vanishes round the comer, singing " Lucy Neal," or " Lily Dale," or some other melody dear to the hearts of organ-grinders. This brief and fitting exchange of friendly attentions between myself and the child takes place every morning, and, when she disappears, I close my window, and lean- ing back ia my favorite chair, the red velvet yonder, light my old meerschaum and ponder. I generally re- main thus, silent and motionless, for an hour before I commence reading the newspapers, over whose contents it is my habit to growl and vituperate. I am going now to tell you what I think about in these morning reveries, and to explain the circumstances which attended my engagement, which engagement unfortun- ately interferes with any matrimonial views in connection with my friend. Miss Tabitha. I see that the comer of her curtain has fallen, and so we are entirely to our- selves. 333 ANNIE AT THE COKNEE, CHAPTEE II. A SCHOOL GIEIi. IEEAOHED the age of twenty-five without ever haying been in love. I do not deny, that two or three times I had fancied myself smitten by the charms of young ladies with pretty lips and rosy faces. I am sure, however, that I by no means loved them, and that, simply because their smiles or frowns neither pleased nor grieved me in any consider- able measure — an excellent test, in my opinion, and one which quite satisfies me. I tranquilly pursued my daily occupation, which was that of a clerk with a moderate salary, in the house of Wopper & Son, now dissolved ; and after my routine in the counting-house, generally spent my evenings in strolHng about and reflecting upon my prospects. I was an orphan, and there were very few congenial companions at the house where I boarded, so I was left pretty much to myself, and was not embarrassed in the selection of amusements, by any one's suggestions. Thrown thus upon my own resources, I looked around for something to interest and occupy my mind, and I ANNIE AT THE COENBE. 233 found this object of interest in a girl whom I met reg- ularly eyery morning at the corner yonder, where my present little friend disappears on her way to school. The figure of the maiden of old times was not unlike my little friend's to-day ; but the former one was much less gaily clad ; her face was covered with a green veil, and she was older — about seventeen. Eegularly every morning, after breakfast, as I went to Wopper & Son's with the punctuality of a clock, I met my friend coming round this corner, and the encounter became an expected pleasure, which I could not forego. [ knew nothing of the girl, except that she, doubtless, [iked blue tints, which everywhere appeared in her cheap ind simple clothing. She generally walked with her lead down, conning a school-book which she held be- neath her green veil, and for some time she never mcountered my eyes with her own. At last, as we went by each other at the same hour ivery morning, and as my dress was seldom altered in hose days, she noticed me, and we would exchange ooks. Then I saw her, with her veil raised, come i,round the corner looking for my familiar figure, then ve exchanged glances of half recognition. Things had reached this stage, when, one day, as I ras coming up to dinner, and just as I was crossing the treet, half-way down the square yonder, by the little rooden house, my attention was attracted by a scream ; raised my head quickly, and at the same moment saw he breast of a horse strike the form of a girl within two aces of me. I was an active young fellow then, and 234 AKSriE AT THE COEKBE. with, a single motion of my hand caught the animal by the bit, forced his foaming mouth backward, and with the other arm supported the girl, who was near fainting. The horse was ridden by an urchin who could not manage him, and galloping down the street he had nearly crushed the girl. She now haU leaned upon my arm in an attitude of terror and weakness, and a glance at her countenance told me that she was my friend of the comer. I need not say that the circumstance did not disjplease me ; and when she came to understand that her delirerer, as the romance writers say, was the owner of the face so familiar to her, too, I don't think she was less pleased than myself. I asked where she liTed ; and she replied, in a hurried and timid tone, that the little wooden house you see yonder was her mother's, and that she was returning thither from school. I offered her my arm with that simplicity and sincere respect which sprung then, as it springs now, from my admiration for a pure woman, young or old ; and, leaning upon the arm, the girl reached her mother's, and, in the same timid tone, asked me to enter. I was Tery glad to obey, and found myself in a small apartment, very poorly and cheaply furnished, but with an air of respectability and neatness about it, which indicated taste and refinement in the occupants. In one comer sat an old lady in a black bombazine dress, busily knitting, which operation she followed with eyes coyered with large spectacles. ANKIB AT THE COBNEE. 236 The old lady looked Tery much frightened when the girl related her adventure ; and the expression of grati- tude upon her thin countenance, when my part was described, remains with me even now as one of my most delightful recollections. I will not lengthen out the description of this scene, when, for the first time, I made the " speaking acquaint- ance " of Annie Claston. Her mother was the widow of a poor clergyman, and managed, as I afterwards learned, by close and rigid labor and economy, to supply the wants of the little household and send Annie to school. The girl had protested, almost with tears, against this, declaring that she was old enough to help her mother and not he a burden ; but the old lady still preserved her ideas about training and education, and Annie was forced to submit. The acquaintance thus auspiciously commenced was not suffered to languish. More than ever, I had an object of interest to occupy my thoughts, and soon it began to occupy my heart. I now looked more eagerly than ever to see Annie at the comer ; and I think I may add that judging from the bright expression of her countenance, she was also pleased at our meetings. We generally paused a moment to exchange a clasp of the hand and a few words and smiles, and then we passed on. I do not know that she thought of me again until we met next morning ; but I am very certain that her image never left my thoughts for fifteen consecutive minutes throughout the day. Old Wopper, more than once, ' had occasion to ask me if I was asleep, and 236 ANNIE AX THE COENEE. whether the pile of goods would be shipped if I only stared them out of countenance; and I think, if my imagination had been a photographic medium, the ledgers of the firm would haTC been coyered with ten thousand pictures of a young girl in a blue dress, with curls on her neck. These pictures would have pleased most persons more than the entries ; and this introduces a brief outline of Annie. She had deep blue eyes, brown hair, a complexion as white as snow, and lips as crimson as carnations — I have never seen any so red. A delicate pale rose tint touched the centre of each cheek, and the expression of her countenance was the perfection of modesty. Look ! here is her miniature, taken long afterwards from a pencil sketch I made, and the likeness is excellent. Now that you see I have not painted a figure of my imagination, I will proceed. A few days after the accident I called one evening, with a beating heart, at Annie's mother's — ^with a beating heart, I say, for those "long, long thoughts," as the poet says, and our regular meetings had suddenly, in a single night, as it were, blossomed into love. I was warmly received by mother and daughter, who with the simplicity and confiding sincerity of elevated nature, did not doubt for an instant that I was what I seemed. I spent an evening, every moment of which appeared to me a separate and perfect world of happiness, and when I returned to my poor chamber I leaned my head upon my hand, and remained lost in thought for an hour, and when I lay down I dreamed of her, andwoke ANNIE AT THE COENEB. 237 thinking of tlie girl, and trying to ask God to bless and protect her. I am not ashamed of that prayer, friend of years, and do not doubt that it rose to the throne of the Almighty. Let what will happen — let things look as they may — I bow my head and submit myself, as a child, to Him who rules us, and sends the sunshine or the storm, as He wills. I will not lengthen out this portion of my brief story either, but get on to the end of it. For some months I continued to Tisit Annie, almost every evening now ; and as I met her as of old, at the comer yonder, her beauty and goodness filled my life, as it were, and riveted those chains which her loveliness and purity had bound me with. I loved her with all the deep and earnest passion of my nature, and she saw that I did, and was too inno- cent and destitute of art to feign indifference. I had, at the end of the time I have mentioned, the unspeakable happiness of knowing that I was as dear to her as she was to me ; and now, looking back through a life of many decades, I recall no sensation approaching in bliss- ful intensity of happiness that first throb of rapture, upon finding that the lovely and pure-hearted girl had dowered me with the whole affection of her nature. I think God gives us on this earth few purer or happier emotions, and I humbly thank Him for this gift to me. His unworthy creature. I was Annie's accepted lover. 238 ANNIE AT THE COENEB., CHAPTEE III. TWO RIVALS. WITH the exception of three or four elderly ladies of the neighborhood, reduced in circumstances, like Mrs. Claston, no one visited at the house to which I so regularly bent my way, but a young man named Lack- land. He was the son of a wealthy merchant, who had form- erly been a parishioner of Annie's father, in the country, and his acquaintance with the young girl had commenced accidentally at a small evening party in the neighbor- hood. Lackland was about my own age, and might have been called handsome, but for the weak and irresolute expression of his lips, and the lurking and uneasy glance of his eye — characteristics which he vainly tried to con- ceal beneath a laughing and careless manner. From the first moment of his meeting with Annie, he fell in love with her, as completely as was possible with him ;' and as his father's wealth was placed, in a great measure, at his disposal, he understood the advantage which the circumstance gave him, and used it. AKNIE AT THE COENEK. S39 I will tell you in a moment how he managed to impress upon the young girl the possession by himself of exactly what I lacked — an ahundance of money. I will say first, that the young man dressed in the most splendid fashion; that his equipage was in the finest taste, and that every trait of his manner, down to the most unconscious move- ment, showed that he was accustomed to the highest and most fashionable society. Nevertheless, he did not advance in the opinion of Annie, or her mother, and I had, what to a lover is the profoundest pleasure — the conviction that a moment of my society was more valued by Annie than an hour of his. The wealthy young lover afEected not to understand this, although it was plain to the commonest apprehen- sion, I thought. In spite of everything he did not seem to understand that his visits were unwelcome, and per- sisted in frequently coming in the evenings, in spite of his cool reception. On these occasions he bowed with an easy air ; saluted me, when I was present, with friendly familiarity, and sat down, playing with his hat and smil- ing. It was impossible for Annie to treat any one dis- courteously, and though she had taken a dislike almost to 3Ir. Lackland, she did not betray this impression, but met all his advances with the most -perfect and maidenly courtesy, but nothing more. I have never seen a more perfect exhibition of what is called the "high-bred air," than that of the girl on these occasions, and Lackland seemed to think as I did, that any man might be proud of such a wife. 240 ANNIE AX THE COENEK. The visits of the young man were contimied as regu- larly after our engagement as before, and he had for some time been sending Annie very handsome presents, anon- ymously, and in such a "way that they could not be re- turned but Just with that transparent Teil thrown over them which the eye easily pierced. One evening a servant handed to the maid at the door a small box, and then disappeared without waiting for an answer, or leaving any gentleman's name. The box was succinctly addressed to " Miss Annie Claston," and con- tained a pair of magnificent bracelets. "When I came Annie showed me the jewels, and I at once recognized them, having seen Lackland purchase them that morning at White's. The young lady asked me to advise her what to do, as she was convinced that Mr. Lackland had sent them. I did not mention my meeting with him, and felt unpleasantly about it. I begged her not to give herself any annoyance, that I would return them, frankly informing Mr. Lackland of her disinchnation ; and on the next morning I did so. I met my gentleman coming out of the Club, whither I had gone to seek him, and handing him the box, said that Miss Claston had commissioned me to thank him, but to beg him to receive, back the jewels. "Jewels!" said the yoimg man, swinging his ivory- headed cane, and holding his other hand behind his back, "what can you mean, my dear fellow ?" "In the present instance, jewels means bracelets, Mr. Lackland," I replied calmly. "Bracelets !" he returned, with an air of surprise. ANKIE AT THE COENER. 241 "Yes, sir, bracelets which you sent to Miss Olaston last eTening." "I!" he repeated in the same tone, "really, you are going too fast, sir." I think, Mr. Lackland, I moYC at a pace exactly in ac- cordance with my calling, which is that of a mercantile clerk. I am now on my way to the counting-house, and my time is yaluable. I beg to repeat, that Miss Claston has commissioned me to thank you for these jewels, but begs that you wiU pardon her for returning them." The irresolute and uneasy expression came to his face, and mingled itself with the irritation. "EeaUy, sir!" he said; "I am subjected to actual persecution. You wish to force me to receive back what I neyer sent." "Mr. Lackland!" I said, profoundly astonished at this falsehood. "Sir!" he said, stiffly. "You wiU pardon me," I said satirically, "but I saw you purchase these very jewels yesterday morning at White's. Doubtless the circumstance has escaped your recollection." His face turned crimson as I spoke, and an angry flash shot from his eyes. "Well, sir!" he said angrily, "you seem to make it your business to keep watch orer my moTements ! Sup- pose I did send that box, and suppose I did wish to con- ceal my agency in sending it — ^what concern is it of yours, sir?" "I choose to make it my concern, sir," I replied 24^ ANKIE AT THE COENBE. coldly, " and if you address anotlier observation to me in that tone, you shall answer it elsewhere." I never knew before that he was a coward. His cheek blanched, his eyes lowered themselves before my angry glance, and he did not reply. " Mr. Lackland," I said, "I regret that this conversa- tion should have taken a turn so unpleasant. I have not the least desire to quarrel with you, sir, and wish simply to discharge the commission which I have undertaken, as a friend of Miss Claston. She begs to thank you for this gift, but can not receive it, and I now return it." With these words I placed the box in Lackland's hand, and bowed and left him. From that moment, as I knew afterwards, he hated me with all the bitterness and malice of a small and cunning nature. You will see how his hatred developed itself. ANNIE AT THE CORNER. 343 CHAPTEE IV. PARTING. ANNIE and myself had entered into our engage- ment with, that thoughtless precipitancy of youth which older and wiser heads visit with so much reproba- tion. My salary was entirely insufficient for the com- fortable support of two persons united in the holy bonds of matrimony, and, after long and sad discussions upon the subject, it was the conclusion of the little household that we must wait for happier times. Long engagements are a great evil ; and they should, I think, be avoided, if possible, in all cases. To see the phantom of married happiness constantly fly before you, eluding your grasp, and laughing pitilessly at your despair — ^this is suiflciently saddening. But there is the further consideration of the young lady's position. The 'knowledge of her engagement on the part of her asso- ciates is more or less embarrassing, and I have known many gentlemen who declared it impossible to enjoy the society of such a lady — "talking to you at random, and looking over your shoulder at her intended." It is true Annie did not give a thought to this, and she declared 244 ANKIB AT THE CORNEE. her wilKngness to -wait just as long as slie lived ; but alto- gether it -was disheartening. Just when we had arrived finally at the conclusion that we must wait, and that I must look around for some im- provement in my situation, I was one morning accosted by an old merchant who had professed a great friendship for me, and informed that he had a proposal to make me. He soon unfolded his idea : it was that I should go to Kio de Janeiro for a year or two, and act as his mercantile correspondent; and he supported his proposition by offering me just thrice the salary which I then received. He would give me a week to think of it, he said, and then we parted. I need not tell you that this proposition was the sub- ject of the most anxious consideration to me throughout the week, for the idea of leaving Annie nearly unmanned me and paralyzed my resolution. The dear girl saw the struggle in my breast, and understood perfectly that she was the obstacle in the way. She besought me not to refuse — that, great as her distress would be to part with me, it would distress her still more to reflect that she embarrassed my movements and clogged my advances toward prosperity ; and she added that I need not be un- easy about them at home, for they were now very com- fortable. Mrs. Claston urged the very same views. It was not until Annie and myself were alone, that leaning her lovely head upon my shoulder, she cried, and said she would remain "mine in life and death," I re- collected these words afterwards. "Well, not to lengthen out my story, at the end of the ANNIE AT THE COENEE. 245 week I accepted tlie offer of my friend Mr. Aiken ; and having made every arrangement with the house where I had been employed, I sailed in a month. I went on shipboard one night; and thus remained with Annie and her mother all the evening. I recall that evening now perfectly ; and especially the crimson sunset flooding the trees of the square yonder, from whose summits crowns of gold seemed gradually lifted by the fingers of the night. Mrs. Claston was a little indis- posed, and I took leave of her in her chamber — receiving with tears almost that blessing which she gave me, laying her thin white hand on my head, as I kneeled beside her. The storms of many years have beaten upon my brow, and changed to gray my raven hair, or swept it away, but still the touch of that pale thin hand of the pure lady is on my brow, and I kneel before her once more on that night of parting. Annie and myself lingered long in the little parlor I need not say ; and the golden crowns all disappeared from the fringed summits of the elms before we parted. It was not "in one blind cry of passion and of pain" — ^but it went near to unman me. Those caresses and endear- ments which are the language of lovers, and have there- fore been derided by the cold and stupid world which does not know that God has given them to His creatures to express the depth of pure and holy love — those falter- ing words and tearful pressures of the hand which say so much, were a thousand times ended and renewed ; and then the end came. Annie wrung her hands, and like a fearful child fol- 246 ANNIE AT THE OOKNEB. lowed me to the door. It was nearly dark, and I must go. I turned to take leave of her again— but throwing a handkerchief over her head, which made her counte- nance resemhle a Madonna's weeping, she drew me toward the comer, some steps distant only as you see, there to Md me farewell. I had there first met vnth her — ^there she had seen me, too, for the first time. As our eyes now met in a long, long look, the whole past rose up again, and condensed itself into a moment — a moment crammed with love and happiness, the recollection of which threw a glory almost over the canopy of night. And there at the old corner we parted — a long em- brace; smiles breaking through tears in the eyes of a man and a woman — ^that was the spectacle which the friendly stars beheld. Annie went back, crying, and' I continued my way to the wharf and embarked. When I opened my eyes the sun was rising over the Atlantic. But I saw nothing but the figure of the maiden — I felt nothing but the sweet agony, the bitter pleasure of that parting. It is well that I looked back instead of forward : but let me proceed in sequence. AErmB AT THE OOBNBR. 247 CHAPTER V. THE EETT7EN'. I WAS reading, the otlier day, a book which has been, much spoken of in Europe — the story of a poor, lost girl, from the dark gulf of whose nature, full of Tvoful deprayity and misery eating into her heart like a cahkerworm, a flower of innocent love springs cp, and purifies her, smoothing her dying pillow. I thought at first that the work was a fiction ; but it was too strange. Only the thoughtless and unobservant will consider what I have said a paradox. "We do not get ai^act any- where, because it wraps itself in the triple folds of self- esteem, reserve, and fear ; and thus, seeing only the out- side of Hfe, some persons think that it is new, prosaic, and commonplace, and that all the tragedies are attribu- table solely to the vivid imagination of dramatists and romancers. I know family histories which I would not dare to relate in their naked, simple details, though the scene were laid in another land and the names changed, for the majority of my listeners would declare me crazy. I know histories of individuals which I could verify step by step, incident by incident, from yeUow and moth- 348 ANNIE AT THE COENER. eaten letters and papers, -wliicli histories tlie world would no more believe, than they would the existence of devils in a man of this century. They would rather say that I forged the papers, than credit what would make their hair stand on end. But. I am wandering from my story, which is not quite so terrible as some others, my dear friend, though, at the time, it seemed to me that woful tragedy and despair had touched its climax. I remained in Eio de Janeiro for three years ; and at the end of that time set sail homeward, with the satis- factory feeling that I possessed what was amply sufficient to enable Annie and myself to commence house-keeping. My delight, as I approached the friendly shores of my native land, was even increased by the fact that I had not received one line from home for more than a year ; and while the explanation of this lay simply in the fact that the ocean mails were very irregular, I had often felt a sort oiitforeboding, such as most persons experience when they love deeply. At such times we fear that such an immensity of happiness as we dream of can not be unmixed, even if it exist : the heart doubts, however powerfully the mind reasons against these doubts ; and we wait, in trembling suspense, the sight of the famiHar shores, the old mansion, the beloved face. Thus, while I experienced the most exquisite delight as I saw the well-known rows of buildings and discerned many familiar forms upon the wharf, I waited with anxious expectation for the moment when I should re- cognize a building more familiar still, a face more dear to me than all the world. ANNIE AI THE COKKER. 249 Ten minutes after entering the hotel, and after throw- ing merely a passing glance at my brown face and long, black mustache in the mirror, I was at the door of the little wooden house yonder. Everything was just as I had left it — ^the honeysuckle blossomed on the porch, as it did on that evening in June when I parted with An- nie ; a pigeon or two circled in the golden atmosphere, or lit upon the roof ; even the curtain at the window of the little parlor, from behind which Annie watched with tender eyes, as I left her every evening, was stiU there ; the trees, lastly, of the beautiful square rustled in the warm breath of the summer evening, and on their im- perial summits the same crowns of gold were slowly lifted by the dusky fingers of the twilight. Every object, every ray, every shadow, every odor — there was nothing that did not speak eloquently of Annie ; and leaning for an instant against one of the white pillars, I placed a hand upon my heart to still its throbbing. I look back now on the figure of myself, standing there on the very threshold of my fate, and almost feel again what I felt soon after. A strange servant came to the door. Was Mrs. Claston or Miss Aimie at home ? — Sir ? "Was Mrs. Claston at home ? I repeated ; if so, teU her that a friend had come to see her. The reply was that Mrs. Claston did not live there, but she would see. The maid went and told her master, who came at once and invited me in. I entered the little parlor, and, for a moment, thought the beating of my heart would alarm the host. He did not seem to observe my agitation, however — ^he 250 A2