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Y.*V-e-v ,^^ Vj-U-/^ ^.^y lA' 4, ■\-i A.<>-.': ■-,•,-;' t<^ WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS: OR, ■ k, I / ■'■• .i-V ' THE RECORDS OF AN UNFASHIONABLE STREET. (iimind to ''My Wija and I.") J NOFKL Bv HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. Author of " Uncle Tom's Cabins " My Wife and /," etc. fit^ JllajBjJrjjitan jjis. dr awfi TORONTO : BELFORD BROTHERS. 1875. CONTENTS. OHAPTKR I.— The Other Side op the Stkeet . II.— How WE Begin Life 111.— The Family Dictator at Work . IV.— Eva to Harry's Mother v.— Aunt Maria Rouses a Tempest in a Teapot VI. — The Settling of the Waters VII. — Letters AND Air CASTLES , . . . VIII. — The Vandbrhbyden Fortress Taken . IX. — Jim and Alice X. — Mr. St. John XI. — Aunt Maria Clears her Conscience . XII. —" Why Can't They Let Us Axone ?" XIII.— Our " Evening" Projected . . . . XIV. — Mr. St. John is Out-argued . XV,— Ghtting Ready to Begin .... XVI.— The Minister's Visit .... XVIL— Our First Thursday XVIII.— Raking up the Fire . . . XIX. — A Lost Sheep paoi 33 38 37 46 68 66 78 79 86 96 108 117 134 131 141 146 187 161 •l vi VAT„a«Kv'«MoT„B.. ajciX—AitntMabi. Vx. ■ • • XXXII A^ "''^ ^^"w Abom xx^S::^:™-^-™.M.,;. • ■ A *^Oi^K-FOOTEn Px. xxxviii^..^. • • . . . ^•^®^Y« She xo HExt AT. * ' • AHB Engagement A v» ^ ' *^4 — Letter prom p,, i!.i> . x"v :'""'""'"-"""" • PAOE 104 169 1?4 180 186 Ma ll'ERs 180 • 198 206 . 213 219 . 223 232 . 241 260 • 258 267 • 276 284 • 290 • 296 300 306 316 326 332 33? ^A , pa«e .164 169 • 174 \ CHAPTfiU XL VI. XLVII.. CONTENTS. —What They all Said Ahout It . — " In The Forgiveness of Sins . vii PAGE 340 . ano 180 ' 185 XLVIIL XLIX.- —The Pearl Cross —The Unpkotectei) Frmalk 357 . 365 TXBBs L.- —Eva to Harry's Mother . . . 375 180 LI.- —The Hour and thr Woman . 379 • -198 LIL- —Eva's Consultations . . . ^'' , 383 206 T-IIL- —Wedding Presents . 387 . 213 ^iV.- -Married and A' . . . . 391 219 . 223 ' 232 1 . 241 ■ • 250 ■ • 258 ■ 267 1 - ^^6 '1 - 284 B • • 290 m • 296 m ^ 300 m 305 1 316 1 326 ■ 332 ■ 337 1 ! I :% LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. I.— The Domesiic Artist 1 sjyray of ivv that »«se(/" around a picture. PAOH Frontispiece. the to 'I-— Talking it Ovee • • • • . . "Oomenow, P,m, otU wUh it. Why that anxious brow : What domestic catastrophe f " "'^ "'"^tous (n-ow i 61 III.— Skirmishing U I ' / like your work, ' Ac said, « better than you do 'I didn't say that I diduH like vo,,J'^Zt colourtmj.' 277 didn't like yours,' said A mine. ' nfjie. it WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. CHAPTER I. 3NS. PAG I-: Frontispiece. owards th- 18 fwced to iom brow ? u do mine. ' lid Anrjie, 61 277 "W THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STREET. 'HO can have taken the Ferguses' house, sister 1" said a brisk little old lady, peeping through the window blinds. " It's taken ! Just come here and look I There's a cart at the door." '' You don't say so ! " said Miss Dorcas, her elder sister, flying across the room to the window blinds, behind which Mrs. Betsey sat discreetly ensconced with her knitting work. " Where ? Jack, get down, sir ! " This last remark was ad- dressed to a rough-coated Dandie Dinmont terrier, who had been winking in a half doze on a cushion at Miss Dorcas's feet. On the first suggestion that there was something to be looked at across the street, Jack had ticked briskly across the room, and now stood on his hind legs on an old embroidered chair, peering through the slats as industriously as if his opinion had been requested. " Get down, sir ! " persisted Miss Dorcas. But Jack only winked contumaciously at Mrs. Betsey, whom he justly considered in the light of an ally, planted his toe nails more firmly in the embroidered chair-bottom, and stuck his nose further between the slats, while Mrs. Betsey took up for him, as he knew she would. " Do let the dog alone, Dorcas ! He wants to see as much as anybody." " Now, Betsey, how am I ever to teach Jack not to jump on these chairs if you will always take his part 1 Besides, next we sliall know, he'll be barking through the window blinds," said Miss Dorcas. Mrs. Betsey replied to the expostulation by making a sudden diversion of subject. " Oh, look, look I " she called, " that must be she," as a face with radiant, dark ej'es, framed in an aureole B "•row'the'rt^" **!!■'.??««<» » the door™, „, .v . muahroom New Vorif'^^V^**^^"^^ last ^^^^ n one of our soli eUf? ^S^^^^^ ^O'' » neiSur ' w '5" '^^^ manners ^5 real r^/ "'^'"^ ^^^^ *hat he had Lf *' ^^^^ ^«« origb/' ^^ ''^ refinement inpeople of tjfe ZP'*5-«^°d "And to b *■ *' "1 cne most ordinary colour her nan- is J " '- ^P^-^mg ^o them. What a pretty ) THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STREET. H At this moment the horse on the other side of the street started prematurely, for some reason best known to himself, and the bureau came down with a thud ; and Jack, who con! theTlinds^ ''^'"'°'' ^' "^"^ "'^"^'^ ^*^"" ^*''^®*^ frantically through f^S P"*""^ seized his muzzle energetically and endeavoured to hold his jaws together, but he still barked in a smothered and convulsive manner ; whereat the good lady swept him. 2^' tTf^' from his perch, and disciplined him vigorously, forcing him to retire to his cushion m a distant corner, where he still persistently barked. you ?^' ^'^'^ ^""^'^ ' " "^^^ ^'^' ^^^^^' " ^*''<^' ^^^ «^»^ " How can 1 1 "said Miss Dorcas, in martial tones. " Betsey Ann Benthusen this dog would grow up a perfect pest of thk neighbourhood if I Jeft him to you. Re mm Wnot to ^t up and bark through those blinds. It isn't so much matter now the windows are shut, but the habit is the thing. Who wants to have a dog firing a fusillade when your visitors come up the front steps-barking-enough-to-split^one's-head-open," ^ded ^Stn^H'J!f;Jr""'^i,"P*'^ *^^ "**^P"*' with a severe staccato designed to tell upon his conscience. Jack bowed his head and rolled his great soft eyes at her through a silvery thicket of hair. ^ " You are a i^ery naughty dog," she added, impressively. Jack sat up on his haunches and waved his front paws in a deprecating manner to Miss Dorcas, and the good lady laughed weWftlends Z^' "^'''' "^"' ''''''' '^ ' ^^^^ dogVo^nd nJ^'fJfK'T^^^u}'^'^''' *^« «^°«* demonstrative man- ner, and fnsked with triumphant assurance of restored favour It was the usual end of disciplinary struggles with him. Miss Dorcas sat down to a bit of worsted work on whXshe had been busy when her attention was first called to^he window Mrs. Betsey, however, with her nose close to the wSw ?n «W '^''f T"^ *^ ^''°?"^"" ^^^ '^^^ «f things over the way m short jets of communication. ^ "There ! the gentlemen are botli gone in— and there » the cart has driven off. Now, they've shut the front door/'^tc. Iff It *' «» ora woHBooaa '".^f ''»?«) in silent"'" »' » <'«'' "oment,, i„ ,fci,i ^^ . . . "Betaey,"she said w,). !««'">'"•« unoonscioM Mrs Bets ®"'* ^^^^Y ■toned to the bt& "''f, Ving dL„ herSiW TT diversifvinfy ti,ni« 1 • • ■'^* appears fhaf fi,J ™wng work, Of poetry resemhl^ ^ ^^'^ S''°^« "Pon her Si hi^^ ''^'^^"^ time ynti h ntdle andT^'^^^^^ adjurations whii7 t ?"^ iistened compIacenHv f *i ^*^ ^^^^ -y l-ard and surveyed Miss BetseywiS, „ '*»' in which both the husband," said «e, as if she had ■Dorcas that this 'neighbours over agnity, and she ttner unconscious the other house, lythmg that was ssip. Ourneiffh- « Mrs. Chapone >ress curiositv' mth our • tkE OTHER SIDE OF THE STREET. 18 ' accustomed tc em from Miss i-bitted pony. Knittmg work, ood souls were* e fifth or sixth :^«- So, taking ng to a mark, 'on to Alonzo ; of rendering lonsofamar- a howl. In for elocution, of her times ay of her vo- leither sister the nervous ar rendering Porcas beat lie mournful nose on his sey with an uneasy excitement, giving from time to time low growls as her voice rose m empliatic places : and finally, as if < ^ on a dog's patience could stand it no longer, he chorused :v ^lartling point with a sharp yelp ! «wP.^-^ir ^■'"'^ Mrs. Betsey, throwing down the book. VVhat 18 the reason Jack never likes me to read poetry ?" Jack sprang forward as the book was thrown down, and run- mng ♦- Mrs. Betsey, jumped into her lap and endeavoured to kiss her in a most tumultuous and excited manner, as an ex- pression of his immense relief "There! there I Jacky, good fellow— down, down! Whv. how odd it is! I can't think what excites him so in my read- ing, said Mrs. Betsey. " It must be something that he notices in my intonations," she ar^ded, innocently. The two sisters we have been looking in upon are worthy of a word of introduction. There are in every growing city old houses that stand as breakwaters in the tide of modern improve- ment, and may be held as fortresses in which the past entrenches itselt against the never-ceasing encroachments of the present. Ihe house m which the conversation just recorded has taken place was one of these. It was a fragment of ancient primitive Kew York known as the old Vanderheyden house, only waiting the death of old Miss Dorcas Vanderheyden and her sister, Mrs. Betsey Benthusen, to be pulled down and made into city lots and squares. '' Time was when the Vanderheyden house was the country seat of old Jacob Vanderheyden, a thriving Dutch merchant. hne ^ ^^^^ somewhat foreign ideas of style and state- Parks and gardens and waving trees had encircled it, but the city limits had gained upon it through three generations : squares and streets had been opened through its grounds, till now the house itself and the garden-patch in the rear was all that remamed of the ancient domain. Innumerable schemes pt land speculators had attacked the old place ; offers had been insidiously made to the proprietors which would have put them in possession of dazzling wealth, but they gallantly maintained their position. It is true their income in ready money was but scanty, and their taxes had, year by year, grown Bigher as the value of the land increased. Modem New York, so to speak, 14 WE AND OUh NEIGHBOtmS. foamed and chafed like a great red dragon before the old house, waiting to make a mouthful of it, but the ancient princesses within bravely held their own and refused to parley or capitu- late. Their life was wholly in the past, with a generation whose bones had long rested under respectable tombstones. Their grandfather on their mother's side had been a signer of the Declaration of Independence ; their grandfather on the pater- nal side was a Dutch merchant of some standing in early New York, a friend and correspondent of Alexander Hamilton, and a co-worker with him in those financial schemes by which the treasury of the young republic of America was first placed on a solid basis. Old Jacob did good service in negotiating loans in Holland, and did not omit to avail himself of the golden oppor- tunities which the handling of a nation's wealth presents. He grew rich and great in the land, and was implicitly revered in his own family as being one of the nurses and founders of the American Eepublic. In the ancient Dutch secretary, which stood in the corner of the sitting-room where our old ladies spent their time, were many letters from noted names of a cen- tury or so back — papers yellow with age, but whose contents were all alive with the foam and fresh turbulence of what was then the existing life of the period. Mrs. Betsey Benthusen was a younger sister and a widow. She had been a beauty in her girlhood, and so much younger than her sister, that Miss Dorcas felt all the pride and interest of a mother in her success, in her lovers, in her marriage ; and when that marriage proved a miserable failure, uniting her to a man who wasted her fortune and neglected her person, and broke her heart, Miss Dorcas received her back to her strong arms and made a home and a refuge where the poor woman could gather up and piece together, in some broken fashion, the remains of her life, as one mends a broken Sevres china tea cup. Miss Dorcas was by nature of a fiery, energetic temperament, intense and original- -precisely the one to be a contemner of customs and proprieties ; but a very severe and rigid education had imposed on her every yoke of the most ancient and straight- est-laced dedbrum. She had been nurtured only in such savoury treatises as Dr. Gregory's JUgacy to hie DaugJUera, Mrs. Chapoue a THE OTHER SIDE OP THE STREET. lit Letters, Miss Hannah More's CMs m Search of a ^»/j» Watte ^ the Mind, and other good books by which our gr«at grand- Mothers had their lives all laid out for them in ex«^ «^^"« and parallelo^ams, and were taught exactly what to think and ?r^per"n the main, she was apt to fall into delightful spasms of "'SoStanding all the remarks of Mr. Chapone and Dr Watte about gossip, she stUl had a hearty and innocent interest ^ th^ pretty young housekeeper that was buUdinganest oppo- site t^ her, and alittle quite harmless cunosity m what was ^"I'gJLTJal of JoYd sermonizing, by-the-by, is expended on goMinhich is denounced as one of the seven deadly /ms of wcietv- but, after all, gossip has ite better side; if not a Christian ^ice, it certainly is one of those weeds which show a ^'m Sly heart, that really cares for everything human it meete, inclines towaVds gossip, i^ a good way Just as a ^^^^^^ ing glory throws out tendrils, and climbs up and peeps cheerUy into your window, so a kindly gossip can't help watching the i^l^gLTsh^^^^^^^^ your chimney. And so, too, after all the h^g^^^^iitt pJ^ Dorcas, the energetic turning of her sister to the pajf^JJ PJ^ Drietrand the passage from Young's mghi ThmgMs, with its SonderorslmW sl^e was at heart kindly musing upon the possible fortunes of the pretty young creature f^^^^^^ J^J^^Jl and was as fresh and ready to take up the next bit of mforma. tion about her house as a brisk hen is to discuss the latest bit of crumb thrown from a window. , , - ..^ • j:i;«ent Miss Dorcas had been brought up by her ^^^^er in djhgent study of the old approved English classics. The .^ook^e ot the sitting-room presented in gilded order old editionsof the Rambler, the TatL, and the Spectator, the poems of Pope, and pryden: and MUton, ami J^aLsjc^^^^ M.s Dor^^and her slater wore weii verauu m ««eni au. ^.uu -i- 16 We and our neighbours. say that their the whole of our modern literature, we must m,"®^ "I'g"* ^ave been much worse directed. W^^Jq ^' ^r?u ""^e^-tu^ately been born too early to enjoy ZtZl'^^' ^^''^:'' ^",T ^^«» «»«" cannot^receive a new author or a new idea. Lilce a lilac bush which has made ite terminal buds, he has grown all he can in this liTe and there ,s no use in trying to force him into a new growtrjacob tT««h nW'" died considering Scott's novels ^as the flirSJv in^i^l -^^ •n''^'''' 'f''^^' ^^"'« ^^ ^^"ghters hid tZm under their pillows, and found them all the more deliXfS from the vague sensation of sinfulness which was connected kndn^LT .r'^'Vi ™*«' ^^^" ^^« ^h-ir mos modern landmwk; youth and bloom and heedlessness and impropriety TnA^^l dehghtfulW mixed up with their reminiscent of iim -j-andnow here they were still livmg in an age which hS s^ielved Walter Scott among the classics, and reads DTckens and Thackeray and Anthony Trollope. ^^^Kensana Miss Dorcas had been stranded, now and then, on one of these « trashy m^jerns "-had sat up all night surreAitiouslv reading mcholas Nickleby, and had hidden the book f?om Mrs Betaey, lest her young mind should be carried away, until she ^'ST.^ ^^ an accidental remark that Mrs. Betsey had om! S t^nt rekZ' ^#^f"/ J^^^^opriety while off on a visitTa Hi^^fl r "^!V ^^«^*be discovery became mutual, from time to time other works of the same author crept into th^ anT.?l'^?P pamphlet editions, and the perusal of them wa^ apologizea for by Miss Dorcas to Mrs. Betsey, as being wSl enough now and then, to see what people were reading if tCe trashy times Ah, what is fame ! Are not Dickens and ThacT hkr3?.i?°".r iT '^'^' T''"^^^' ^*y to the same duty .?A if !? 'r *^f ^'^'.^y' ^^^''^ *hey will be praised and not read by the forthcoming jeunesse of the future ? If the minds of the ancient sisters were a museum of bvcone K^eas, and literature, and tastes, the old Vanderheyden house was no less a museum of by-gone furniture. The very smeU of the house was ghostly with past suggestion. Eveiy"iS of hou^hold gear in it had grown old together wit^^^Ste rwt, staudmg always m the same spot, tubject to the same ^llui^ **"'5?^ ^^^^' «»°^« seii-iinui house-deanlS! tariyiehfts a dissertation on the « talent for annihUating 1 TttE OTHEH SIDE OF THE STREET. 19 rubbish, ' this was a talent that tlie respectable Mks Dorcaa had none of. Carlyle thinks it a fine thing to have j but we think the lack of it may come from very respectable qualities. In Miss Dorcas it came from a vivid imagination of the possi- ble tuture uses to which every decayed or broken household article might be put. The pitcher without nose or handle was fine china, and might yet be exactly the thing for something, and so it went carefully on some high perch of preservation dismembered ; the half of a broken pair of snuffers certainly looked too good to throw away— possibly it might be the exact thing needed to perfect some invention. Miss Dorcas vaguely remembered legends of inventors who had laid hold on such chance adaptations at the very critical point of their contrivances, and so the half snuffers waited years for their opportunity The upper shelves of the closets in the Vanderheyden house were a perfect crowded mustering ground for the incurables and incapables of household belongings. One might fancy them a Hotel des Invalides of things wounded and fractured in the general battle of life. There were blades of knives with- out handles, and handles without blades ; there were ancient tea-pots that leaked— but might be mended, and doubtless would be of some good in a future day ; there were cracked plates and tea-cups ; there were china dish covers without dishes to match; a coflFee mill that wouldn't grind, and shears that wouldn't cut, and snuffers that wouldn't snuff— in short every species of decayed utility. ' Mss Dorcas had in the days of her youth been blest with a brother of an active, inventive turn of mind ; the secret crypts and recesses of the closets bore marks of his unfinished pro- jections. There were all the wheels and weights and other internal confusions of a clock, which he had pulled to pieces with a view of introducing an improvement into the machinery, which never was introduced ; but the wheels and weights were treasured up with pious care, waiting for somebodij to put them together again. All this array of litter was fated to come down from its secret recesses, its deep, dark closets, its high shelves and perches, on two solemn days of the year de- voted to house-cleaning, when Miss Dorcas, like a good gen- eral, looked them nvAr And reviAwo/l ihom ^-u^^n^i-^A jX^:^ probable capabihtiea, and resisted gallantly any suggestions of 18 WE AND oun NEtonnotjn^ Black Dinah the cook and mairl of all work or Mr« B«f«n« that^^me order ought to be taken to ridihe h'^so of\ht ^'^^ «;r^« S T '^'^'- -*lr Iw"; .it' „ri. andt" away/a^Vj, China would y?u1» "°"""' """^ "■« "i™" dS elder WwTr** ^'^- ^'"^ Vanderh^denrMS asi_ ^»v^w iiSni uyou iVib WilA AQ tHfi OTHER SIDE OF THE STREET. 10 rs. Betsoy, f them, t is the use ling can be oil always any more ' 1 I Miss Is and her bo trusted lioH man- le we may Btrugglinff heels and )nderfully bn pitch- •f nev ce- lakes old here I'm ne throw ■8. Betsey ne funda- mn, ven- f how it en in his lad even an diplo- and got 3ob Van- )t up the ened its en, Miss )Ut those ue in all 'her and with Uk income m\uh abridged by the imprudence of the brother and the spendthrift dissipation of Mrs. lletsey's husband they were forsaken by the retreating waves of rank and fashion ; their house, instead of being a cent' o of good society, was , n- compassed by those ordinary buildings devoted to purpos. s of trade whose presence is deemed incompatible with gent«el residence. And yet, through it all, their confiden i; in the rank and position of their family continued unabf ,1. The old house, with every bit of old queer furniture ii it, the old window curtains, the old tea-cups, and sauci -s the id bed-spreads and towels, all had a sacredness such as per- tained to no modem things. Like the daughter of Zion in sacred song. Miss Dorcas "t ok pleasure in their duj* and favoured the stones thereof." The old blue willo>* P**t6"?ed china, with mandarins standing in impossible places and bridges and pagoda . growing p, as the world was made, out of nothing, was to Miss Dorc »s consecrated porcelain even its broken fragments were imij egnated with the sacred flavour of ancient gentility. Miss Dorcas's own private and pergonal closets, drawers, and baskets were squirrels* nests of all sorts of memorials of the past. There were pieces of every gow a she had ever worn, of all her sister's gowns, and of the mor al habiliments of many and many a one beside who had long passed beyond the need of earthly garments. Bits of wedding robes of brides who had long been turned to dust; fragments of tarnished gold lace from old court dresses ; faded, crumpled, artificial flowers, once worn on the head of beauty ; gauzes md tissues, old and wrinkled, that had once set off" the trit raphs of the gay—all mingled in her crypts and drawers and runks, and each had its story. Each, held in her withered h nd, brought back to memory the thread of some romance warn with the colour and flavour of a life long passed away. Then there were collections, saving and medicinal ; for Miss Dorcas had in great force that divine instinct of womanhood that makes her perceptive of the healing power inherent in all things. Never an orange or an apple wa- pared on her pre- mises when the peeling was not carefully garnered— dried on newspaper, and neatly stored away in naner jairg fnr ninlr-rnQm uses. t tr ,r -o io WE AND OUB NEIOHBoritS. JP'^ 7"'^ i""^' ^'^'"e of Methlow, catnip, feverfew With everythmg else about the old Vanderheyden house ^ em New Ynrt'''^' ^"^/f^ °"'^^*« ^"*« *1^« society of mod- lmef\Z^^n'^y,^7m''^'^'\^ 'l''l '''^ «^™« ^om some ezoeny person who still remembered the Vanderhevdens anH t^o r&n t^oT TV^'' ^.^"^ ^^ ^h« expense o?aca^ri"4J iflrp ow *'??l^"'^ ''''"^*^ "P ^»to the new part of the town Shfn thT ""^ **^^P*^*• ?"* g«"«rally their%ath of life kj vithm the narrow limits of the house. Old Dinah thpVnli rtTnV:r"* ''"^^"^"^' "«« '^^ ^-i remnant of a form DorcS""^ "" *^' ""^'^^ ^^^ y^^ ^»°^ *hat ? " asked Miss » -'-J" "> a gJ'eat iriena of theirs, Mary says " Mary l-who is Mary ? » said MiJs Dorcas. THE OTHER SIDE OP THE STREET. SI .h. 3 ^?Jf'^^^'^''^''T' ^^'''^ girf-they only keep one, but she has a little daughter about eiglit years Jld to help I wish we had a little girl, or somethini that one might train for a waiter to answer door-bells and do little things." . Our door-bells don't call for much attention, and a little girl IS nothing but a plague," interposed Miss Dorcas. Dinah has quite fallen in love with Mrs. Henderson," said «nnLn li'7\ ?^^ '^^5 *^** '^^^ the handsomest, pleasintest- spoken lady she's seen for a great while. ' DoZ^lfilSSy.^'' "^^'" '^'^ ^'' ^^" ''''^'^" '"^^ ''^ Miss Dorcas settled this with the air of a princess. She felt that such a meritorious little person as the one over the wav ought to be encouraged by people of good old famUies. Our readers wil observe that Miss Dorcas listened without remonstrance, and with some appearance of interest to the itemsabout minced pieand broiled chickens; but high moral pro- pnety, as we all know, is a very cold, windy height, and if a STflfft*"^ f}KT^ "•• twice a day, it is as' much as ought to be demanded of human weakness. For the rest of the time one should be avowed, like Miss Dorcas, to repose upon one's laurels. And, after all, it is inter- esting, when life is moving in a very stagnant current, even to know what your neighbour has for dinner ! 12 WB AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. CHAPTER II. HOW WE BEGIN LIFE. {Utter frm EvaHerdersm to Isahelle CmHney ) black," whom all thfworld coSl^^^ "^ u^^"^^ ^^^ would always be a nexT thina in fT^ ?*?*^' ^ ^"* *^at there it's going to be ^'ir^u^Sfn^ anfr^'^- . ^""' ^'^V^ finite housekeeper jfOTlC S?f iff?? ^'^ *""* ^'^t «» in^ ionable home of oiis, Jar off in^ t^W^ low-studded, unfash- my energies brisk SbS^syfo^amon^h'^ ^K^^' J" ^*P* *" are more worlds to conquTr visionfnf f'^S *1^ ^f^ ^^^^ lambrequins that are to «^JnV« *^^ ^,®'^*" brackets and lownigV XeXr^lnW^.'^T '^^"^^«' visit my pil- just IhaviCunabS o&^lfrn« *^« sleep offhe so busy with my parZr ivL ind^^ w ""^'^^^^ ^ ^»^« heen some perfectly seVShr^n^^ '^^ of ferns, and ing na^turtiu4SaieZfb^^^^ ^^'«'°."« ^th flower- is a dear little Quaker doli?'''^"^ '*" "^l windows. There house to out. who^fa peS tiL'^^'^A "^^"^ in the nex? of witeh, you understend nri^Jf^ ^tg^rdening-a good kind bud and bissor^st unSook i?° ^"''^' ? bfoomstick teacher and exempWhi theL r^L *"i '^^ ^«* heen my feet bower, a ^rt^Z^'^T:2t^^l^\ ^^' P^^«"r is a per- all a-bloom' with geranfu^^^^^^ -^"""^ ?^i^»^ vines VnA just like it. So you serail thiT! I" ^""'"^ ^" *° ^^ok Then there are the familv 1... .^ ^^P* ""^ ^^^^ «> busy, that isn't much for our S ''"'''' J^ ^^^P' ^ou may think to find hormuch there Lt ^ Yn'„^"*Tr"^^ ^^ ^*-"d concerned myself only";rfigLf:,^-^ td nt^^"^ "'^ a - ..^o — .1^ ftijj never gave a HOW WE BEGIN LIFE. 28 y-) and I, all old folks, 'ches, and )rapective. tiite shoe- hat there 1) perhaps >ut an in- , unfash- kept all till there kets and t my pU- jp of the ave been ern8,and h flower- . There he next >od kind >omstick •een my isaper- aes and to look JO busy. y think amazed my life ' gave a to hSc^Ty^ 'v n'rcnv.""^ '" "!"• H« 1^ to be off »»upphes,a„d aU that-anditUrS^^c^"]::,"/,"- designs were quite honest ' **» « «© waan t sure that my you^y SrbuTter"^' ' '''' ^^ "^^ «-^^«* ^^^^e^ "have swfr^ ^"ten'l*?' ''^^'^' ^"^« «" *h« «o«nter, and an- «?oi, ?5' 11^ * '?^® **^ «*■«** reserve. ' " il?s Siln^' n ^'.'?\** «"°»^'" I «*y' undiscouraged. chipld^S^^^^^^ chewin^g a bit of at it r ' ^ '*^' '^''^""^' " «^^1 I g° down there and look "tZTZIa'' y^? ""^"M" ^« ^k«' suspiciously. Ihat depends on how well I like it," say I. ^ and n^he c'^fhf,' n^r^'^''' ^.^ «ays inLuminating tone ; it with*""" '*' *" ^^ "'" ' ^y- " 'f I h«d something to t:y He scoop, „p a portion on his dirty thumbnail and seems to • u WB AND OUR KEiaHBOURS. hold It reflectively, as if a doubt was arising in his mind of the propriety of this mode of offering it to me. Aiid now mv cockney friend interposes with a clean knite. I tiTte tSrSter and^find it excellent and give a gei^rous oXr which delights his honest soul ; and as he weighs it out hetr^wl in, gra'tis, the information that l^i« ^^ wo^^^^^^ tried it and he was sure I would like it, for she is the mmi SSt woman and the 5../ judge of butter; that they. came from Yorkshire, where the pastures round were so sweet with a-many SteTnd cowslips~-in fact, my little cockney fnend strays oft iito a S of pastoral that makes the little groceiy store quite ^Itiil my two grocers familiarly Tragedy and Comedy, and make Har^ a good deal of fun by recounting my adventures wfth theJT I Save many speculations about Tragedy. He is rman?e?man, as I leafn, and I can't help wondenng what S^Quicrnbos^hinksofhim. ?<>e«^««^tnSnTHmTt she kSs him in the rough~or has she given up ^^^^ f* nil 1 How did he act when he was in love 1— if ever he was in Sve-and Xt ^iThe say to the lady to induce her to marry Mm? How did he look when he did it ? It really makes me sCdder to think of such a mournful ghoul c^^^^^^^ domestic circle at nieht. I should think the Me ^^^^ wouldaU run and hide. But a truce to scandalizing my neigft bour— he may be better than I am, after all ! ^ . I ought t« tell you that some of my essays m provisioning mv Ssonmight justly excite his contempt-they have been Sr^pXItoJnygoodMaryMcArthur. Joukn^IM been used to seeing about a ten pound su-lom of beef on ^apas S and the first day I went into the shop I assumed an air !J eirwisdom as if I had been a housekeeper all my life, and nrde^^ Tust such a cut as I had seen Mamma get, with all sorts the week most like a ghost. We had it hot, and w© naa « cold we iTd it stevved^nd hashed, and made soup of it ; we com , we u»u , J , ^ jgal more than was ^f f^^r mf orp"ul^:sito'.tvlu." low»nU the close of the m ndoUhe an knifo. generous ;h8 it out Oman has the tidiest same from bh a-many strays oft bore quite medy, and kdventures ly. He is ring what e — or does ing him at p he was in r to marry makes me jack to the » Quacks " my neigh- rovisioning f have been know I had f on Papa's imed an air nay life, and rith all sorts nposed dig- and gave an Then will we i us through 1 we had it p of it ; we ore than was 5 close of the HOW WE BEGIN LIFE. 25 7h^. T HnT ""^^^ « W«ted (he never finds fault with any- J«i f^l °' ^"rir "'*''?^y ^^ff'sied) whether it wouldn't be b7t- fcamertttWh'^"^^^^^^ LJS! out with the whole story, and we had a giod lauffh together about it. Since then I have come down to tSS wT S^^"7' *°^ ^ «*y *« h^^' " H^w much of this'^nl Sceiy ^'"'' ^'' ' " ""^ ^^^^^^^^ "« ^« male it goV?te I f mnli''^ ""^ neighbours, my dear blessed Aunt Maria, whom k3f!T^"" remember, has almost broken her heart IS Papa 8 failmg and my marrying Harry, and, finally oT" omiW to We on an unfashionable 8t?eet-which n C ^iew is 3 Hmbf °lh?tl'' ^r^" ^f 5 «°°^« ^'^ suspicLus TeK nmbo. She almost quarrelled with us both because ha^na^nl ho^Tt''^''''^}l^'^ ^^' ^« ^«"ld also inTr^n S to house-keepmg and having a whole house to ourselves ofablck stoeet instead of having one little, stuffy room onZ back side ^th!r ir^:^7^^^^''''''' WeU^ImadeaUup^thher aj last. It you will have your own wav and nfipaiaf in if ^Ll pkAa..tomakeupwith/ou. YouZs geltraketh^C and moon which, though they often behave very inconvenient v rm'akrtt'tt'^^'^'' andsoAuntMaar:3d5 wise T wlf */^ F*'?! ^"^ '^^' I* «a°^e about in this wise . I went and sat with her the last time she had a «^fc i'^^^l' \"^ kissed her, and bathed her heJd, and Ud her I wanted to be a good girl and did really love her thouS I rdti:^3e^p'^^^^---^--^ --^e^^^^^^^ rur?&^t\te^^^^ ^ t LTe JlToo^ t'lr Tll\T fl.*^^"^' ^'^^ ' ^^^'^ want totLt.' ^m S ,l!^«i.„l? ^""^ ""^ *5® ""^e*"^ My card-receiver is full of most desu-able names of people who have come in their fwhion able carnages and counts, and they have " oh'd Cd "aW'Mn '^L od^?:ifc.^5^ declared they were " quite sweet," and thbk I «hX?J.f'^f "'"''*' y?,'' ??**'" >' ^^*' fo'a" that, Idon't Kge h^e IJ^ ^''P "P ^ ^^^ ^y '^^' «f acquaintances. \o^r:^.l\^}'..'^''^^y' .and wlen paid for b> the hour. iare'«7mIJ'T"t,'*^° acquamtances are worth it But there are some real noble-hearted people that I mean to keep. The 0^ 26 WE AND OUR NBIGHJOURS. "Van Astrachans, for instance. Mrs. Van Astrachan is a solid lump of goodness and motherliness, and that sweet Mrs. Harry Endi- cott is most lovable. You remember Harry Endicott, I suppose, and what a trump card he was thought to be among the girls, one time when you were visiting us, and afterwards all that scandal about him and that pretty little Mrs. John Seymour ? She is dead now, I hear, and he has married tins pretty Rose Ferguson, a friend of hers ; and since his wife has taken him in hand, he has turned out to be a noble fellow. They live up on Madison avenue quite handsomely. They are among the " real folks" Mrs. Whitney tells about, and I think I must keep them. The Elmores I don't care much for. They are a frivo- lous, fast set, and what's the use 1 Sophie and her husband, my old friend Wat Sydney, I keep mainly because she won't give me up. She is one of the clinging sort, and is devoted to me. They have a perfect palace up by the park — it is quite a show-house, and is, I understand, to be furnished by Harter. So, you see, it's like a friendship between princess and peasant. Now, I foresee future conflicts with Aunt Maria in all these possibilities. She is a nice woman, and bent on securing what she thinks my mterest, but I cau't help seeing that she is somewhat •' A shade that follows wealth and fame." The success of my card-receiver delights her, and not to im- prove such opportunities would be, in her view, to bury one's talent m a napkin. Yet, after all, I differ. I can't help seeing that intimacies between people with a hundred thousand a year and people of our modest means will be full of perplexities. And then I say, Why not try to find all the nmghbourlmess I can on my own street ? In a country village, one finds a deal in one's neighbours, simply because one must. They are there ; they are all one has, and human nature is always interesting, if one takes it right side out. Next door is the gentle Quaker- ess 1 told you of. She is nobody in the gay world, but as full of sweetness and loving-kindness as heart could desire. Then right across the way are two antiquated old ladies, very old, very precise, and very funny, who have come in state and called on me ; bringing with them the most lovely, tyrannical little Bow WE BEGIN tiPB. 27 dSl^'^ lt;tSd?o?Tn1S^ «!;^.-^ «^-ked them I can rub the stiffLrout o/o"r «^^^^ '" * ''' "''"^P*"^ i^'>"ce t/i t reS!^^^^^ ds -^ Bo5|„, and my sis- for society. So ff Aunt £« !"*''" *''"'®' ^« sha'n't want '''I ci r ft "t" '■^- ''»^"'' '"' " ""^^ " *' « ff^ Evl Van A'SiT?''™''* "^""V. ^t H is no longer 1 it talked ht one wat her 5 r r ''''^^'' P'"P»'y J ^m»a a third; and Zo/g therall h.?:!"'''',"';:;''^' ™^ Aunt Maria And. But now nirv a"d I W. f 'f^^ 1"^ "'»» '>»'^ "> m, which is a fortrL into wlli " ^™ ""^ """"P*"' world. I telUhera auVrdon"t Ir ""™l''""° »" '^e Isn't that nioe , AvU'e'i ^1,''™' l"eVn°d fi l\ ""»'' ■»" ^ Ever your loving Ey;*. 28 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. CHAPTER III. THE FAMILY DICTATOR AT WORK. FROM the foregc-ng letter our readers may have cori- jectured that the natural self-appointed ruler f the for- tunes of the Van Arsdel family was " Aunt Maria, or Mrs. Maria Wouvermans. v.*^k«v,o». That is to say, this lady had always considered-such to be her mission, and had acted upon this supposition up to the time that Mr. Van Arsdel's failure made shipwreck of the fortunes ot * AuS Maria had, so to speak, revelled in the fortune and po- sition of the Van Arsdels. She had dictated the expenditures of their princely income ; she had projected parties and enter- tainments ; she had supervised lists of guests to be mvited ; she had ordered dresses and carriages and equipages, and hired and dismissed servants at her sovereign wiU and pleasure, ^lomi- naUy, to be sure, Mrs. Van Arsdel attended to all these matters ; but really Aunt Maria was the power behind the throne. Mrs. Van Arsdel was a pretty, graceful, self-indulgent woman, who loved ease and hated trouble— a natural climbing pknt who took kindly to any bean-pole in her neighbourhood, and Aunt Maria was her bean-pole. Mrs. Van Arsdens wealth, her station, her 6clat, her blooming daughters, all climbed up, so to speak, on Aunt Maria, and hung their flowery clusters around her, tb her praise and glory. Besides all this there were very solid and appreciable advantages in the wealth and station ot the Van Arsdel family as related to the worldly enjoyment of Mrs. Maria Wouvermans. Being a widow, connected v ith an old rich family, and with but a small fortune of her own, and many necessities of society upon her, Mrs. Wouvermns had found her own means in several ways supplemented and earned out by the redundant means of her sister. Mrs. Wouvemajs Uved in a moderate house on Murray Hill, within comfortable proximity to the more showy palaces of the New York nobility. THE FAMILY DICTATOR AT WORK. 29 She had old furniture, old silver, camel's hair shawls and jewel- lery sufficient to contenther heart, but her yearly income was far below her soul s desires, and necessitated more economy than she liked. While the Van Arsdels were in full tide of success she felt less the confinement of these limits. What need for her to keep a carriage, when a carnage and horses were always at her command for the asking— and even without asking, as not infrequently came to be the case ? Then, the Van Arsdel parties and hospitalities relieved her from all expensive obligations of society. She returned the civilities of her friends by invitations to her sisters parties and receptions ; and it is an exceedingly convenient thing to have all the glory of hospitality and none of thp trouble— to have convenient friends to entertain for you any person or persons with whom you may be desirous of keeping up amicable relations. On the whole, Mrs. Wouvermans wa« probably sincere in the professions, to which Mr. Van Arsdel used to listen with a quiet amused smile, that " she really enjoyed Nelly's fortune more than if it were her own. " * Haven't a doubt of it," he used to say, with a twinkle of \?^ which he never further explained. Mr. Van Arsdel's failure had nearly broken Aunt Maria's heart. In fact, the dear lady took the matter more sorely than the good man himself. Mr. Van Arsdel was, in a small dry way, something of a philosopher. He was a silent man for the most part, but had his own shrewd comments on the essential worth of men and thmgs— particularly of men in the feminine gender. He had never checked his pretty wife in any of her aspirations, which he secretly valued at about their real value ; he had never quar- reUed with Aunt Maria or interfered with her sway in his family within certain limits, because he had sense enough to see that she was the stronger of the two women, and that his wife could no naore help yielding to her influence than a needle can help sticking to a magnet. But the race of fashionable life, its outlays of health and strength, its expenditures for parties, and for dress and equi- page, its nvalries, its gossip, its eager frivolities, were all matters 01 which he took quiet note, and which caused him often to ponder the wo,. Is ul the wi«. n.an of oM, "What profit hatha 30 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. man of all his labour and the vexation of his heart, wherein ho hath laboured under the sun ] " To Mr. Van Arsdel's eye the only profit of his labour and travail seeraed to be the making of his wife frivolous, filling her with useless worries, training his daughters to be idle and self-indulgent, and his sons to be careless and reckless of ex- penditure. So when at last the crash came, there was a certain sense of relief in finding himself once more an honest man at the bottom of the hill, and he quietly resolved in his inmost soul that he never would climb pgain. He had settled up his affairs with a manly exactness tlxat won the respect of all his creditors, and they had put him mto a salaried position which insured a competence, and with this he resolved to be contented ; his wife returned to the economical habits and virtues of her early life ; his sons developed an amount of manliness and energy which was more than enough to compensate for what they had lost in worldly prospects. He enjoyed his small, quiet house and his reduced establishment as he never had done a more brilliant one, for hi felt that it was founded upon certainties and involved no risks. Mrs. Van Arsdel was a sweet-tempered, kindly woman, and his daughters had each and every one met the reverse in a way that showed the sterling quality which is often latent under gay and apparently thoughtless young womanhood. Aunt Maria, however, settled it in her own mind, with the decision with which she usually settled her relatives' affairs, that this state of things would be only temporary. " Of course," she said to her numerous acquaintances, " of course, Mr. Van Arsdel will go into business again— he is only waiting for a good opening— he'll be up again in a few years where he was before." ^ And to Mrs. Van Arsdel she said, " Nelly, you must keep him up— you mustn't hear of his sinking down and doing nothing "—doing nothing being his living contentedly on a com- fortable salary and doing without the " pomps and vanities." " Your husband, of course, will go into some operations to re- trieve his fortunes, you know," she said. " What is he thinking " Well, really, Maria, I don't see as he has the least inteu- tion— he seems perfectly satisfied to live as we do." THE FAMILY DICTATOR AT WORK. 31 " You muBt put him up to it, Nelly — depend upon it, he's in danger of sinking down and giving up ; and he has splendid business talents. He should go to operating in stocks, you see. Why, men make fortunes in that way. Look at the Bubbleums, and the Flashes, they were all down two years ago, and now they're up higher than ever, and they did it all in stocks. Your husband would find plenty of men ready to go in with him and advance money to begin on. No man is more trusted. Why, Nelly, that man might die a millionaire as well as not, and you ought to put him up to it ; it's a wife's business to keep her husband up." "I have tried to, Maria ; I have been just as cheerful as I knew how to be, and I've retrenched and economized every where, as all the girls do — they are wonderful, those girls ! To see them take hold so cheerfully and help about household matters, you never would dream that they had not been brought up to it ; and they are so prudent about their clothes — so careful and saving. And then the boys are getting on so well. Tom has gone into surveying with a will, and is going out with Smithson's party to the Rocky Mountains, and Hal has just got a good situation in Boston " *• Oh, yes, that is all very well ; but, Nelly, that isn't what I mean. You know that when men fail in business they are apt to get blue and discouraged, and give up enterprise, and so gradually sink down and lose their faculties. That's the way old Mr. Snodgrass did when he failed." " But I don't think, Maria, that there is the least danger of my husband's losing his mind — or sinking down, as you call it. I never saw him more cheerful and seem to take more comfort of his life. Mr. Van Arsdel never did care for style — except as he thought it pleased me — and I believe he really likes the way we live now better than the way we did before j he says he has less care." " And you are willing to sink down and be a nobody, and have no carriage, and rub round in omnibuses, and have to go to little mean private country board instead of going to New- port, when you might just as well get back the position that you had. Why, it's downright stupidity, Nelly I " • '* As to mean country board," pleaded Mrs. Van Arsdel, " I clon't know what you mean, Maria. We kept our old home* r 32 WK AND OUlt NKIOHHOUKS. Stead up there in yerrnont, and it's a very respectable place to spend our summer in. fo^^w '* Yes, and what chances have the girls up there— where no- body sees them but oxen ? The girls ougft to be considered. For their sakes you ought to put your husBand up to do sorae- f& ". ""T! ^? "'''™' ^'^"8'^^ "P ^*^h the expectations they have had. to have to give all up just as they are coming out. If there is any time that a mother must feel the want of money it is when she has daughters just beginning to go into society; and it is cruel towards young girls not to give them the means ol dressing and doing a little as others do ; and dress does cost so abominably, now-a-days ; it's perfectly frightful- people cannot live creditably on what they used to " • Yes certainly, it is frightful to think of the requirements of society in these matters," said Mrs. Van Arsdef. "Now TrTi! yo", and I were girls, Maria, you know we managed to appear well on a very little. We embroidered our own capes and collaij, and wore white a good deal, and cleaned our own not what it 18 now. Why, making a dress now is like rigging ^omr/SmSSg. " ^^"^P«-*«^-^^- - - -any part^^nS "Oh, it's perfectly fearful," said Aunt Maria; "but, then what is one to do ? If one goes into society with people who have so much of all these things, why one must, at least, make some little approach to decent appearance. We must keep within sight of them. All I ask.'^she added, meekly, " is to be decent. T never expect to run into the extremes those El- mores do-the waste and the extravagance that there must be wifwt ""^T' And there's Mrs. Wat Sydney coming out with the whole new set of her Paris dresses. I should lie to W dreMesT'"^"*^'^ ^^^' ''"^* ^^^^^ *^^* ^°™*° ^^ *P®"^ °° "Yes," said Mrs. Van Arsdel, warming with the subject, you know she had all her wardrobe from Worth, and Worth's dresses come to something. Why, Polly told me that the lace alone on some of those dresses would be a fortune " "And just to think that Eva might have married Wat Syd- ney, said Aunt Mana. "It does seem as if things in this world fell out on purpose to try us ! " TFfK FAMILY OfCTATOR AT W(.UK. 33 ideas of a moral purpose in existence, to which even^«Ci! and trials of ace and embroiderv miVVif k/ 1^ j , .^*®* «' Aftftr all " oV,« „T^ J 7;? J . X ""'^ht be made subserv ent r rate's- r.^r faS?^ that they Have .8 good an opport™r™'i thl T ?' society aa the Sydney^ with all theSney"*^' *"' """^ '" Marit"^ Sydney is perfectly devoted t'o Eva," said Aunt timac^ It^^n h"* M*"»' "it'« as well to cultivate that in- iimacy. it will be a grand summer visitinc nlace at thS^ house in Newport, and we want visiting places foV the ^U f have put two or three anchors out ?o^K winLlrd ^n that th^^n J ""'/"^"^ ''• }''' '^' Stephenson^r^at m^^^^^^^ nn IH^f fv! *"** y^.girls musthelp show them New York and cultivate them, and then there will be a nice visiHm. nio« i them at Judge Stephenson's next summer Vreethte^ lives within an easy drive of Newnort sn ihJ?hf .^^ there, and see and be seen " '^^''P*''**^^**^^**^ can get over for m'y"'^/:'' ^'"'' '''' ^''^ ^" ^'^ *« ^^ Pitting yourself out all'l^tv*'"; Nelly just as if your girls were not mine-thev are 34) WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS, training will tell." Aunt Maria picked up this crumb of self- glorification with an easy matter-of-fact air which was peculiarly aggravating to her sister. In her own mind Mrs. Van Arsdel thought it a little too bad. " Maria always did take the credit of everything that turned out well in my family," she said to herself, " and blamed me for all that went wrong." But she was too wary to murmur out loud, and bent her head to the yoke in silence. "Eva needs a little showing and cautioning," said Aunt Maria ; " that Mary of hers ought to be watched, and I shall tell her so — she mustn't leave everything to Mary." " Oh, Mary lived years with me, and is the most devoted, faithful creature," said Mrs. Van Arsdel " Never mind — she needs watching. She's getting old now, and don't work as she used to, and if Eva don't look out she won't get half a woman's work out of her — these old servants always take liberties. I shall look into things there. Eva is my girl ; I sha'n't let anyone get around her ; " and Aunt Maria arose to go forth. But if anybody supposes that two women engaged in a morning talk are going to stop when one of them rises to go, he knows very little of the ways of woman- kind. When they have risen, drawn up their shawls, and got ready to start, then is the time to call a new subject, and ac- cordingly Aunt Maria, as she was going out the door, turned round and said : " Oh ! there now ! I almost forgot what I came for : — What are, you going to do about the girls' party dresses % " " Well, we shall get a dressmaker in the house. If we can get Silkriggs, we shall try her." " Now, Nelly, look here, I have found a real treasure — the nicest little dressmaker, just set up, and who works cheap. Maria Meade told me about her. She showed me a suit that she had had made there in imitation of a Paris dress, with ever so much trimming, cross-folds bound on both edges, and twenty or thirty bows, all cut on the bias and bound, and box-plaiting with double quilling on each side all round the bottom, and go- ing up the front — graduated, you know. There was waist, and S overskirt, and a little sacque, and, will you believe me, she only g asked fifteen dollars for making it all." "Xoi* don't say so!" THE FAMILY DICTATOR AT WORK. 35 " It's a fact. Why, it must have been a good week's work to make that dress, even with her sewing machine. Maria told "J6 of her as a great secret, because she really works so well that if folks knew it she would be swamped with work, and then go to raising her price— that's what they all do when they can get a chance— but I've been to her and engaged her for you." " I'm sure, Maria, I don't know what we should do if you were not always looking out for us." " I don't know— I'm getting to be an old woman," said Aunt Mana. " I'm not what I was. But I consider your family as my appomted field of labour— just as our rector said last Sun- day, we must do the duty next us. But tell the girls not to talk about this dressmaker. We shall want all she can do, and make pretty much our own terms with her. It's nice and con- venient for Eva that she lives somewhere down in those out-of-the- way regions where she has chosen to set up. Well, good morn- ing ; and Aunt Maria opened the house door and stood upon the top of the steps, when a second postscript struck her mind. " There now ! " said she, " I was meaning to tell you that it is getting to be reported everywhere that Alice and Jim Fellows are engaged." "Oh, well, of course there's nothing in it," said Mrs. Van Arsdel. "I don't think Alice would think of him for a mo- ment. She likes him as a friend, that's all." "I don't know, Nelly ; you can't be too much on your guard. Alice 18 a splendid girl, and might have almost anybody. Be- tween you and me— now, Nelly, you must be sure not to men- *^o" iji—hut Mr. Delafield has Ijen very much struck with her." " Oh Maria how can you ? Why his wife hasn't been dead a year I " " Oh, pshaw ! these widowers don't always govern their eyes by the almanac," said Aunt Maria, with a laugh. " Of course, John Delafield will marry again. I always knew that ; and Alice would be a splendid woman to be at the head of his es- tablishment. At any rate, at the little company the other night at his sister's, Mrs. Singleton's, you know, he was per- tectly devoted to her, and I thought Mrs. Singleton seemed to iiKe It. " It would certainly be a fine position, if Alice can fancy 86 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. to me he is rather him," said Mrs. Van Arsdel. "Seems querulous and dyspeptic, isn't he ? " l^oie^'^eTto '" '''^*' '' '^^"*^' *^« ^''^' ' ^^^ ^ " He's so yellow ! " ruminated Mrs. Van Arsdel, ingenuously I never could bear thin, yeUow men." g«"uousiy. ^il ^\ wT'- ^"f'^ ^""'^ ^®S^°' Nelly-it's bad enough to have girs with their fancies. What we ought to look at are the solid excellences What a pity that the marrybg age always comes when gu-ls have the least sense! John fielf LK a sohd man, and if he should take a fancy to Alice, it would be hafefhSr '^r^ ^"'5- .^^'"^ *^"g^* '« ^« careful, and not have these reports around, about her and Jim Fellows : it iust tteg^^ttrancir ^^"^- '^'^" ^^^ *° ^^- ^^«^s an^^'Ji^^ ^°°'*^' Maria-I don't think it would do any good. Ahce is very set in her way, and it might put her up to make something of it more than there is." ^ " Oh, never fear me," said Aunt Maria, nodding her head • "I understand Alice, and know just whkt needs^o be said.' 1 snan t do her any harm, you may be sure," and Aunt Maria crrit^hrcre^ce^-' ^^^ ^"^^^ '^-^^ ^^^ «*^p«' ^^- -■ Van Arsdel often used for the purposes of fetter-writing On nfflL ri°S ^^^^J^^l^ife ««PPosed him out as usual at hS office, he had retired there to attend to some correspondence un^nfS^r'r"'/""''"^^^ by drapery, and so he had been an unintentional and unsuspected but much amused listener to Aunt Mana's adjurations to his wife on his behalf, hppnlk ^^ his subsequent labours of the pen, he might have been observed to pause from time to time and liugh to himself! nrn J?'* ?V^°^ ^ ^- *l"'f * ^'*^ ^^^^^^ «^ t^e wheels of the progress of his energetic relation was something vastly pleasing itittaro'th:^:^ '"^ ^^ '^ ^""^^"^-^^^ ^« -*^- him'^I'af - «ee,whether I am losing my faculties," he said to niroceit, as n-c guwiurea up his letters and departed. EVA HENDERSON TO HARRY'S MOTHER. 37 CHAPTER IV. EVA HENDERSON TO HARRY'S MOTHER. MY Dear Mother : Hany says I must do aU the writing to you and keep you advised of all our aflFairs, because ne IS so dnven with his editing and proof-reading that letter- writing IS often the most fatiguing thing he can do. It is like trying to run after one has become quite out of breath. The fact is, dear mother, the demands of this New York newspaper life are terribly exhausting. It's a sort of red-hot atmosphere of hurry and competition. Magazines and news- papers jostle each other, and run races, neck and neck, and everybody connected with them is kept ap to the very top of his speed, or he is thrown out of the course. You see, Bolton and Harry have between them the oversight of three papers— a monthly magazine for the grown folk, another for the children, and a weekly paper. Of course there are sub-editors, but they have the general responsibility, and so you see they are on the qu,imve all the time to keep up ; for there are other papers and magazines running against them, and the price of success seems to be eternal vigilance. What is exacted of an editor now-a-days seems to be a sort of general omniscience. He must keep the run of everything— politics, science, religion, art, agriculture, general literature ; the world is alive and moving everywhere, and he must know just what's going on and be able to have an opinion ready made to go to press at any mo- ment. He must tell to a T just what they are doing in Ashan- tee and Dahomey, and what they don't do and ought to do in New York. He must be wise and instructive about currency and taxes and tarififs, and able to guide Congress ; and then he must take care of the Church,— know just what the Od tathohcs are up to, the last new kink of the Ritualists, and the right and wrong of all the free fights in the different denomina- tions. It really makes my little head spin just to heai- what they are getting up articles about. Bolton and Harry are kept 38 WE A»D OUR NE18HB0UR8. on the chase, looking up men whose specialities lie in these nnesto write for them. They have now in tow a Jewish Kafcibi, who w going to do something about the Taln^ud or Targums, or something of that sort ; and a returned missionary from the Gaboon Eiver, who entertained D\i Chaillu, and can speak authentically about the gorilla ; and a lively young doctor who is devoting his life to the study of the brain and nervous system. Then there are all sorts of writing men and women sending pecks and bushels of articles to be printed and getting furious if they are not printed, though the greater part of them are such hopeless trash that you only need to read four hues to know that they are good for nothing ; but they all expect them to be re-mailed with explanations and criticisms and the ladies sometimes write letters of wrath to Harry that are perfectly fearful. Altogether there is a good deal of an imbroglio, and you see with it all how he comes to be glad that I have a turn for letter- writing, and cm keep you informed of how we of the interior go on. My business in it all is to keep a quiet, peaceable, rest- ful home, where he shall always have the enjoyment of seeing beautiful things and find everything going on nicely without having to think why, or how, or wherefore ; and, besides this to do every little odd and end for him that he is too tired or too busy to do ; in short, I suppose some of the ambitious lady leaders of our time would call it playing second fiddle. Yes that IS It ; but there must be second fiddles in an orchestra, and It s fortunate that I have precisely the talent for playing one and my doctrine is that the second fiddle well played is quite as good as the first. What would the first be without it 1 After all, in this great fuss about the men's sphere and the women s, isn't the women's ordinary work just as important and great in its way ? For, you see, it's what the men with all their greatness can't do, for the life of them. I can go a good deal further in Harry's sphere than he can in mine. I can judge about the merits of a translation from the French, or criticise an article or story, a great deal better than he can settle the difference between the eflFect of tucking and inserting in a dress, or of cherry and solferino in curtains. Harry appre- ciates a room prettUy got up as well as any man, but how to get it up— all the shades of colour and niceties of arrangement. EVA HENDERSON TO HARRY*S MOTHER. dd the thousand little differences and agreements that go to it — he can't comprehend. So this man and woman question is just like the quarrel between the mountain and the squirrel in Emerson's poem, where " Bun" talks to the mountain : " If I am not so big as you, You're not so small an I, And not half so spry. If I cannot carry forests on my back, Neither can you crack a nut." I am quite satisfied that, first and last, I shall crack a good many nuts for Harry. Not that I am satisfied with a mere culinary or housekeeping excellence, or even an artistic and poetic skill in making home lovely ; I do want a sense of some- thing noble and sacred in life — something to satisfy a certain feeling of the heroic that always made me unhappy and dis- gusted with my aimless fashionable girl career. I always sym- pathized with Ida, and admired her because she had force enough to do something that she thought was going to make the world better. It is better to try and fail with such a purpose as hers, than never to try at all ; and in that point of view I sympathize with the whole woman movement, though I see no place for myself in it. But my religion, poor as it is, has always given this excitement to me : I never could see how one could profess to be a Christian at all, and not live a heroic life— though I know I never have. When I hear in church of the " glorious company of the apostles," the " goodly fellowship of the prophets," the " noble army of martyrs," I have often such an uplift — and the tears come to my eyes, and then my life seems so poor and petty, so frittered away in trifles. Then the com- munion service of our church always impresses me as something serious, so profound, that I have wondered how I dared go through with it ; and it always made me melancholy and dis- satisfied with myself. To offer one's soul and body and spirit to God a living sacrifice surely ought to mean something that should nlake one 's life noble and heroic, yet somehow it didn't do so with mine. It was one thing that drew me to Harry, that he seemed to ,me an earnest, religious man, and I told him when we were first engaged that he must be my guide ; but he said no, we must go hand in hand, and guide each other, and together we If 4A) WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. would try to find the better way. Harrv is verv crnnH tn «,n waJ^flTf^Si.^ ^^^^' "^'° m^^CrY^^^L" r^d7nd hSlfEy* *°^ "^^r! *"^ ^J °^y associations with gooa and holy things were with my church, and I reallv Mt afraid to trust myseff without them. ^I have tri^d goine to h s So^wf Tf ^'^ ^' ^"* *h««« extempo"lfus ite^ don t often help me. 1 find myself weighing and considering mmy own mnd whether that is what I r^do Tl orTk i tZ ^«J"^g^°g,oj deciding, one can't be praying at^he same time Now and then I hear a good man who so wraDs me up m his sympathies, and breathe! such a spS of pZer as cames me without effort, and that is lovely but it^^so cWh^\' ^" ^'^^'"^ V°"g ^'' *h« dear oTd^yl'o rZ warL''caZn7 ^?i}^?' ""'^g^^y ^'^'^ h^« learned t^^ way md can go on with full consent, without stopping to think «inn .?^-^°^ ^ ^*^" '^^^^^^ «° attending an EpisfopaS amon. ?r^ '" °"' Pf^^^ *^^ "^^^ I*« ^oJshippe^s are iTtly among the poor and Hany thinks we might do good by goS S anv o?thrl-' -r ^T^.^' S*- JoSn, a min as d^e^ot^f as any of the pnmitne Chnstians. I never saw anvbodv an into work for others with more entire self sSce ^ He^hfs eZnK'it "" • ^^ 'T^^^ ^^''^^' andpaysabouth^f ?h nS a«5 1 *^^ .^'''^'' ^^«^d®»- All this exdtes Harry's res- tThX ht"* ^BnTh^ aV' ^^r\^' ^°^ ^^^ °^« d«' ^" ^' 'a« 10 neip nim. Both Ahce and I, and my youneest sisters tTterJ ^"'' ^'^' ^^^ ^^^««« in^hirmSn choS; nrl^n!i^^ ?^^? "'^^'^ '^^^'^ ^^ * sewing-school, and, so far as Bufthen Mr VtT'-™'^' T?^^^^ moves beautifull^^ 1^ Ma n :• ®*-/^^" '' ^^'y ^-*«^ church and very stringent » certain extent they get on nicely ; but come to the qnestion oear Mr. bt. John should think him an infidel. And, in fact, EVA HENDEKSON TO HARRY's MOTHER. 41 Hwry has such a sort of latitudinarian way of hearing what all sorts of people have to say, and admitting bits of truth here and there m it, as sometimes makes me rather uneasy. He talks with these Darwmians and scientific men who have an easy sort ot matter-of-course way of assuming that the Bible is nothing but an old curiosity-shop of bygone literature, and is so tolerant in hearing all they have to say, that I quite burn to testify and stand up for my faith-if I knew enough to do it : but I really feel afraid to ask Mr. St. John to help me, because he is so set and solemn, and confines himself to announcing that thus and so is the voice of the church ; and you see that don t help me to keep up my end with people that don't care tor the church. Rut, Mother dear, isn't there some end to toleration : ought we Christians to sit by and hear all that is dearest and most sacred to us spoken of as a by-gone superstition, and smile assent on the ground that everybody must be free to express his opinions in good society ? Now, for instance, there is this young Dr. Campbell, whom Harry is in treaty with for articles on the brain and nervous system— a nice, charming, agreeable tellow, and a pertect enthusiast in science, and has got so far that love, or hatred, or inspiration, or heroism, or religion is nothing in his view but what he calls "cerebration "—he is so lost and absorbed in cerebration and molecules, and all that sort of thing, that you feel all the time he is observing you to get facts about some of his theories, as they do the pSor mice and butterflies they experiment with. The other day he was talking, in his taking-for-granted rapid way, about the absurdity of believing in prayer, when I stopped him squarely, and told him that he ought not to talk m that way; that to destroy faith in prayer was taking away about all the comfort that poor, sorrowful, oppressed people SinAlflJ '^-17^ •'f * ^'^\SoinS through a hospital and pulling all the pillows from unde. the sick people's heads be- cause there might be a more perfect scientific invention by-and- by, and that I thought it was cruel and hard-hearted to do it ile looked really astonished, and asked me if I believed in prayer. I told him our Saviour had said, " Ask, and ve shall ' receive," and T believed it Hp <5pp ^ ,-- - • v i ! (7oai J . j~ weise,ea ID. iie seemca quicu astonished at my zeal, and said he didn't suppose any really cultivated people h! 42 WE AND OUK NEIGHBOURS, II ! now-a-days believed those things. I told him I believed every- thing that Jesus Christ said, and thought he knew more than all the philosQphers, and that he said we had a Father that loved us and cared for us, even to the hairs of our heads, aijd that I shouldn't hav^ courage to live if I didn't belie/e that. Harry says I did right to speak up as I did. Dr. Campbell don't seem to be offended with me, for he comes here more than ever. He is an interesting fellow, full of life and enthusi- asm in his profession, and I like to hear him talk. But here I am, right in the debatable land between faith and no faith. On the part of a great many of the intelligent, good men whom Harry, for one reason or other, invites to our house, and wants me to be agreeable to, are all shades of opinion, of half faith, and no faith, and I don't wish to hush free convfrsation, or to be treated like a baby who will cry if they mal«:e too much noise ; and then on the other hand is Mr. St. John — whom I regard with reverence on account of his holy, self-denying life— who stands so definitely entrenched within the limits of the church, and does not in his own mind ever admit a doubt of anything which the church has settled ; and between them and Harry and all, I don't know just what I ought to do. I am sure, if there is a man in the world who means in all things to Vve the Christian life, it's Harry. There is no differ- ence between him and Mr. St. John there. He is ready for any amount of self-sacrifice, and goes with M \ St. John to the extent of his ability in his eflforts to do good ; and yet he really does not believe a ^eat many things that Mr. St. John thinks are Christian doctrines. He says he believes only in the wheat, and not in the chaff, and that it is only the chaff that will be blown away in these modem discussions. With all this, I feel nervous and anxious, and sometimes wish I could go right into some good, safe, dark church, and pull down all the blinds, and shut all the doors, and keep out all the bustle of modern think- ing, and pray, and meditate, and have a lovely, quiet time. Mr. St. John lends me from time to time some of his ritualis- tic books ; and they are so refined and scholarly, and yet so devout, that Harry and I are quite charmed with their tone ; but I can't help^ seeing that, as Harry says, they lead right back into the Romish church— and by a way that seems enticingly EVA HENDERSON TO HARRY's MOTHER. 48 lieved every- V more than Father that heads, ai;id belie/e that, •r. Campbell ss here more and enthusi- stween faith I intelligent, ivites to our 1 shades of idsh to hush > will cry if hand is Mr. ount of his entrenched s own mind bas settled ; just what I neans in all is no differ- is ready for John to the ^et he really Fohn thinks 1 the wheat, that will be I this, I feel right into blinds, and •dern think- et time, his ritualis- and yet so their tone ; i right back s enticingly beautiful. Sometimes I think it would be quite delightful to have a spiritual director who would save you all the trouble of deciding, and take your case in hand, and tell you exactly what to do at every step. Mr. St. John, I know, would be just the person to assume such a position. He is a n itural school-mas- ter, and likes to control people, and, although he is so very gen- tle, I always feel that he is very stringent, and that if I once allowed him ascendancy he would make no allowances. I can feel the " main de fer " through the perfect gentlemanly polish of his exterior ; but you see I know Harry never would go com- pletely under his influence, and I shrink from anything that would divide me from my husband, and so I don't make any move in that direction. You see, I write to you all about these matters, for my mamma is a sweet, good little woman who never troubles her head with anything in this line, and my god-mother. Aunt Maria, is a dear worldly old soul, whose heart is grieved within her because I care so little for the pomps and vanities. She takes it to heart that Hanry and I have definitely resolved to give up party- going, and all that useless round of calling and dressing and visiting, that is called " going into society," and she sometimes complicates matters by trying her forces to get me into those old grooves I was so tired of running in. I never pretend to talk to her of the deeper wants or reasons of my life, for it would be ludicrously impossible to make her understand. She is a person over whose mind never came the shadow of a doubt that she was right in her views of life ; and I am not the per- son to evangelize her. Well now, dear Mother, imagine a further complication. Harry is very anxious that we should have an evening once a week to receive our friends — an informal, quiet, sociable, talk- ing evening, on a sort of ideal plan of his, in which everybody is to be made easy and at home, and to spend just such a quiet, social hour as at one's own chimney-corner. But fancy my cares, with all the menagerie of our very miscellaneous acquaint- ances ! I should be like the man in the puzzle that had to get the fox and geese and corn over in one boat without their eat- ing each other. Fancy Jim Fellows and Mr. St. John ! Dr. Campbell, with his molecules and cerebration, talking to my little Quaker dove, with her white wings and simple Itaith, or 44 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOUHS. Aunt Maria and mamma conversing with a Jewish Rahhi f T S. Mr VZhTlS^^^^^^^^ ^i^^^ ' *"d I don't know ^„r y- JP-.'^onn would feel shocked at him. Nevertheless our Rabbi ,8 a very excellent German geutleman/and one 6f the most interesting talkers I have heard^ Oh ! t" en there are our rococo antiquities across the street, Miss Dorc^ Vander' hl^Xf ^V'"'- .]^^^ «^*" I d« with them^l 1 Harry .w«?i?^.t""^^®'' confidence in my powers of doing the S able that he seems to think I can, out of this materfal mX 1 mos piquant and original combination. I have an awful re our artistic French neighbours it got to be a perfect scienc« But am I the woman born to do it in New York 1 doing andTo\?ir^ *° ^'* '^'""^h the world but to keep aoing, and to attack every emergency with couraefi T ahaU do my possible, and let you know^of m^yTuccesr ^'' ' '" ^ lourdaugliter, Eva. A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. 45 Rabbi! I WB are dis- don't know vertheless, md one of ii there are s Vander- tll ? Harry the agree- al, make a I awful re- at among it science. lit to keep >. I shall Eva. CHAPTER V. A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. THE housekeeping establishment of Eva Henderson, n^e Van Arsdel, was in its way a model of taste, order, and comfort. There was that bright, attractive, cosy air about it that spoke of refined tastes and hospitable feelings — it was such a creatior as only the genius of a thorough home-artist could, originate. There are artists who work in clay and marble, there are artists in water-colours, and artists in oils, whose works are on exhibition through galleries and museums : but there are also, in thousands of obscure homes, domestic artists, who con- trive out of the humblest material to produce in daily life the sense of the beautiful ; to cast a veil over its prosaic details and give it something of the charm of a poem. Eva was one of these, and everybody that entered her house felt her power at once in the atmosphere of grace and enjoy- ment which seemed to pervade her rooms. But there was underneath all this an unseen, humble opera- tor, without whom one step in the direction of poetry would have been impossible ; one whose sudden withdrawal would have been like the entrance of a black frost into a flower-gar- den, leaving desolation and unsightliness around: and this strong pivot on which the order and beauty of all the fairy contrivances of the little mistress turned was no other than the Irish Mary AcArthur, cook, chambermaid, laundress, and general operator and adviser of the whole. Mary was a specimen of the best class of those women whom the old country sends to our shores. She belonged to tha fanaily of a respectable Irish farmer, and had been carefully trained in all household economies and sanctities. A school kept on the estate of their landlord had been the means of in- structing her in the elements of a plain English education. SnA H^VAtA O OfOfl bon/l tiroo irpnort.4 in A/>-*• '»■«'> " ■»'»'' bacl":jS'iX p:t;trt'""'''' ^™ P^-^''^'" "» «'" "er " Why, Mary, what is the matter ? " said Eva following hpr te'r^-y^st" "^'■^- ^°" <■--" 3Ha: *^ Your Aunt Maria has been here." , Oh, the horrors, Mary. Poor Aunt Maria » vou miistn'f mind a word she says. Don't worry, now~2.' Ao,r W Aunt Maria IS always saying things to „« 4? W l^S irllV"^ you mustn't; le know she-^^atVeS ^^d we just let It pass for what it's worth." A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. 49. " Yes ; you are young ladies, and I am only a poor woman, and it comes hard on me. She's been round looking into every crack and comer, and picked up those old cabbage leaves, and talked to me about keeping a cellar that would give you all a fever — it's too bad. You know yesterday I hurried and cut up that cabbage to help make out the dinner when those gentle- men came in and we had only the cold mutton, and I was go- ing to clear them away this very morning." " I know it, Mary ; and you do the impossible for us all twenty times a day, if you did drop cabbage leaves once ; and A.unt Maria has no business to be poking about my house and prying into our management ; but, you see, Mary, she's my aunt, and I can't quarrel with her. I'm sorry, but wo must just bear it as well as we can — now promise not to mind it — for my sake." " Well, for your sake. Miss Eva," said Mary, wiping her eyes. " You know we all think you are a perfect jewel, Mary, and couldn't get along a minute without you. As to Aunt Maria, she's old, and set in her way, and the best way is not to mind her." And Mary was consoled, and went on her way with courage, and with about as much charity for Mrs. Wouvermans as an average good Christian under equal provocation. Eva went on singing and making up her vases, and carried them into the parlour, and was absorbed in managing their re- spective positions, when Aunt Maria came down from her tour in the chambers. " Seems to me, Eva, that your hired girl's room is furnished up for a princess," she began, after the morning greetings had been exchanged. *' What, Mary's 1 Well, Mary has a great deal of neatness and taste, and always took particular pride in her room when she lived at mamma's, and so I have arranged hers with special care. Harry got her those pictures of the Madonna and infant Jesus, and I gave the Unitier for holy water, over her bed. We matted the floor nicely, and I made that toilet table, and draped her looking-glass out of an old muslin dress of mine. The pleasure Mary takes in it all makes it really worth while to gratify her." 50 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. "I never pet servants," said Mrs. Wouvermans bri^flv "Depend on it, Eva, when you've lived as long ^SaVe, 3 hi mv ^J T^; ^t^^kes them presumptuous and'e^ri mg. Why, at first, when I blundered into Mary's room f thought It must be yours-it had such an air." ^ ' nessTnd 'nfJf?!*^^ ^'""'if^ "'^'^^y ^"^ *^ Mary's perfect neat- findmvrnl T'-, ^"^ '°"T ^ «»yyou wouldn't always r.f ? J/ ?i?-^ ^ u""^^ arranged as hers, for I am a sad hand to throw thmgs about when I am in a hurry. I love order but I like somebody else to keep it." * ^uve oraer, out her luWelf «'t W t ^""^^ ^^^ '^^'^^^^S ^*^ persistence to ner subject, that you are beginning wrong with Marv arid to io to Tf ' T*':^T^ ^"d there was the tea caddy for her u^se'^lich te^rwrd"''^^ '^ '^^^ ^^'"^^^^ ^^^^ *^^* ^^^^--^ W?dS l"?*^' ^r ?"^^ ^^ *^^ ^««° i° the family so Sd 1? T ! .1 "^1?^ "^""^ * «"'^*°t ; she seems like a friend, and I treat hef hke one. I believe Mary really loves Molil* ^-^.u'* ^? ^- ^^^ sentiment and business," said Aunt Mana, with sententious emphasis. « I never do. I don't want my seirants to love me-~that is not what I have them for I want them to do my work, and take their wages. ThTy under eWown n^r T "^^ ^7° ^«"?-eveiy tling is spSa iTy set down in the bargain I make with them : their work is all r^fZ'l^. I ?'r *^^ ^*^ '^'"^^ '' ^^^^'^"'age tlTem to talk to me, and that is the way we get along." " Dear me. Aunt Maria, that may be all very well for such an energetic, capable housekeeper as you are, wk» IlwaJ^^^^^^^^^^ exactly how to manage, but such a poor little thiirL I Z can't set up m that way. Now I think it's a grealme^cy and onXn'r h''^' ^*'rf^ ^rl thatknowsmore about howTo get on than I do, and that is fond of me. Why, I know rich p!o- thing yourself. I always do." «-" every "But you see, aunty, the case is very difTereut with you and A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. 61 me. You are so very capable and smart, and know so exactly how everything ought to be done, you can make your own terms with everybody. And, now I think of it, how lucky that you came in ! I want you to give me your judgment as to two pieces of linen that I've just had sent in. You know, aunty, I am such a perfect ignoramus about these matters." And Eva tripped up stairs, congratulating herself on turning the subject, and putting her aunt's busy advising faculties to some harmless and innocent use. So, when she came down with her two pieces of linen, Aunt Maria tested and pulled them this way and that, in the approved style of a donaestic expert, and gave judgment at last with an authoritative air. " This is the best, Eva — you see it has a round thread, and very little dressing." " And why is the round thread the best, auntyi " " Oh, because it always is — everybody knows that, child ; all good judges will tell you to buy the round threaded linen, that's perfectly well understood." Eva did not pursue the inquiry farther, and we must all con- fess that Mrs. Wouvermans' reply was about as satisfactory as those one gets to most philosophical inquiries as to why and wherefore. If our reader doubts that, let him listen to the course of modem arguments on some of the most profound problems ; so far as can be seen, they consist of inflections of Aunt Maria's style of statement— as, " Oh, of course everybody knows that now," or, negatively, " Oh, nobody believes that, now-a-days." Surely, a mode of argument which very wise persons apply fearlessly to subjects like death, judgment and eternity, may answer for a piece of linen. " Oh, by-the-by, Eva, I see you have cards there for Mrs. Wat Sydney's receptions this winter," said Aunt Maria, turn- ing her attention to the card plate. " They are going to be very brilliant, I'm told. They say nothing like their new house is to be seen in this country." "Yes," said Eva, "Sophie hag been down here urging me to come up and see her rooms, and says they depend on me for their receptions, and I'm going up some day to lunch with her, in a quiet way : but Harry and I have about made up our minds that we sha'n't go to parties. You know, aunty, we are going in for economy, and this sort of thing costs so much." I ■ ■ 52 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. Mol?'*-' ^^^ l?^^ ^^^' '^^^^^y what is money for ? " said Aunt ^m, innocently. " If you have any thinJyou ougTt to ?m t'oHarCn'KT '^'^^^^^^ ^" in societ^.^'frnpo^^^^^ lo narry in his profession to be seen and heid of and tn n,,«h his way among tlie notables, and, with duHte 'and thoS^ht other thZ« J?" 1? ^"y^'^y- , I ca»ne down here, among SonTSS?hem.^^ '"'' ^'''' ^'^««««' ^"^ ««« ^^^''^ «a« bf you Sibf S^Httlf'^'r^ *r '' *"^*y ^^*^' ^"* what do LeSL of V^oih « ^^^^"^g fi"e^ would do for me in an owSf«nl]\? ?%'P'''^^^^ "®w toUettes? In our sl^uld Wt ^r '""'/f, ^ ^"^ r'^ ^ ^«ad«' of the mode, but I fine^ ! '' '^ ^^« ^^ «^d la.t night's bouquet among all theii ?re8h Ja ]^®"' '^**^' ^T?' *'*^^^<^' y^''* talk of economy and all that wonM "^ ?S 'P'"^^^^ «" knick-knacks and mere fancies what « Mf auS: 'i >"^' \r^ ^^^^*^h^« figurein ocirtj?' heiJZ^^^^ '' ^''''''^' "«-' ^h«- I tlought we wJre J' ?^®D' .*^T'® y**""" wood fire, for instance ; verv cheerful T tha^'tL^"* '"'-X ^^^'^ght piece of extravigS I know IhfL^t ^^"^ "1^®? ^'^^ °^°«t elegant people, that have eve^ thing they can think of, have fallen back hn the fencv of hIJ' f J^^.Ti?; '* '^"H" *» ''"S'" and oheerfiU, and Harrv is so .,V™ he says the very sight of it rests him." cord^.dL'IA"''!^''?-""''- ™?* "" «»«» «»"«" » fancy and ™„ ^.„^ * *. '"™^ J™' '«°»»=« *' Ple««s your Em « SatW A""" society because ifs s5 ej=pensive. kmL l^ ' ™'"'J"8' '*« you. And there are twenty other ™J^d^1^ttv1n„r.''^'!''*T"«^'* *"■" MaSTttg rouna, pretty enough, but each costs a little The™ for in stance those cut flowers in the vases cost something™' a gre»tr^i„'/?Ja*nn1 ? r' S ■"»" J"'* ""'""^ "? A TLcrfPEST IN A TEAPOT. 59 " It's well snough to get Sophie to do it, but you oughtn't to afford it," said Aunt Maria ; " nor need you buy a new matting and pictures for your servant's room." " Oh, aunty, mattings are so cheap ; and those pictures dida't cost much, and they make Mary so happy ! " " Oh, she'd be happy enough any way. You ought to look out a little for yourself, child." " Well, I do. Now, just look at the expense of going to parties. To begin with, it annihilates all your dresses, at one fell swoop. If I make up my mind, for instance, not to go to parties this winter, I have dresses enough and pretty enough for all my occasions. The minute I decide I must go, I have nothing, absolutely nothing to wear. There must be an imme- diate outlay. A hundred dollars would be a sniall estimate for all the additions necessary to make me appear with credit. Even if I take my old dresses ae the foundation, and use my unparalleled good taste, there are trimmings, and dressmaker's bills, and gloves, and sUppers, and fifty tilings ; and then a car- riage for the evening, at five dollars a night, and all for what ) What does anybody get at a great buzzing party, to pay for all this 1 Then Harry has to use all his time, and all his nerves, and all his strength on his work. He is driven hard all the time with writing, making up the paper, and overseeing at the office. And you know parties don't begin till near ton o'clock, and if he is out till twelve he doesn't rest well, nor I either — it's just so much taken out of our life — and we don't either of us enjoy it. Now, why should we put out our wood fire that we do enjoy, and scrimp in our flowers, and scrimp in our home comforts, and in our servant's comforts, just to get what we don't want after all ? " " Oh, well, I suppose you are like other new married folks, you want to play Darby and Joan in your chimney-corner," said Aunt Maria^ '' but, for all that, I tMnk there are duties to society. One cannot go out of the world, you know ; it don't do, Eva." *' I don't know about that," said Eva. " We are going to try it. " What ! living wi\;hout society 1 " " Oh, as to that, we shall see our frier is other ways. I can see Sophie a great deal better in a quiet morning-call than an 54 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. evening reception ; for the fact is, whoever else you see at a party you don't see your hostess— she hasn't a word for you. Then, I'm going to have an evening here." " You an evening ? " " Yes ; why not 1 See if I don't, and we'll have good times too.' " Why, who do you propose to invite 1 " " Oh, all our folks, and Bolton and Jim Fellows ; then there are a good many interesting, intelligent men that write for the magazine, and, besides, our acquaintances on this street." " In this street 1 Why there isn't a creature here," said Aunt Maria. " Yes, there are those old ladies across the way." " What ? old Miss Dorcas Vanderheyden and that Mrs. Benthusen ? Well, they belong to an ancient New York family, to be sure ; but they are old as Methusaleh." " So much the better, aunty. Old things, you know, are all the rage just now ; and then there's my little Quaker neighbour." ^ " Why, how odd j They are nice enough, I suppose, and well enough to have for neighbours ; but he's nothing but a watchmaker. He actually works for TiflFany ! " " Yes ; but he is a ^ ory modest, intelligent young man, and very well informed on certain subjects. Harry says he has learned a great deal from him." " Well, well, child, I suppose you iLust take your own way," said Aunt Maria. " I suppose we must," said Eva, shaking her head with much gravity. " 7ou see, aunty, dear, a wife must accommodate herself to her uusband, and if Harry thinks this is the best way, you know — and he does think so, very strongly — and 1 <'t it lucky that I think just as he does 1 You wouldn't have me fall in with those strong-minded Bloomer women, would you, and sail the ship on my own account, independently of my hus- band 1 " Now, the merest allusion to modern strong-mindedness in woman was to Aunt Maria like a red rag to a bull ; it aroused all her combativeness. " No ; I am sure I wouldn't," she said with emphasis. " If there's anything, Eva. where I see the use of all my instn ^tions to you, it is the good sense with which you resist all such new- A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. 55 fangled, abominable notions about the rights and sphere of woman. No ; I've always said that the head of the woman is the man ; and it's a wife's duty to live to please her husband. She may try to influence him — she ought to do that — but she never ought to do it openly. I never used to oppose Mr. Wou- vermans. I was always careful to let him suppose he was having his own way ; but I generally managed to get mine," and Aunt Maria plumed herself and nodded archly, as an aged priestess who is communicating to a young neophyte secrets of wisdom. In her own private mind, Eva thought this the most terrible sort of h3T)ocrisy ; but her aunt was so settled and contented in all her own practical views, that there was not the least use in arguiijg the case. However, she couldn't help sajring inno- cently, " But, aunty, I should be afraid sometimes he would have found me out, and then he'd be angry." " Oh, no ; trust me for that," said Aunt Maria, complacently. " I never managed so bunglingly as that. Somehow or other, he didn't exactly know how, he found things coming round my way ; but I never opposed him openly — I never got his back up. You see, Eva, these men, if they do get their backs up, are terrible, but any of them can be led by the nose — so I'm glad to find that you begin the right way. Now, there's your mother — I've been telling her this morning that it's her duty to make your father go back into business and re- trieve his fortunes. He's got a good position, to be sure — a respectable salary; but there's no sort of reason why he shouldn't die worth his two or three millions as well as halif the other men who fail, and are up again in two or three years. But Nelly wants force. She is no manager. If I were your father's wife, I should set him on his feet again pretty soon. Nelly is such a little dependent body. She was saying this morning how would she ever have got along with her family without me ! But there are some things that even I can't do —nobody but a wife could, and Nelly isn't up to it." " Poor, dear little mamma," said Eva. " But are you quite sure, Aunt Maria, that her ways are not better adapted to papa than any one's else could be 1 Papa is very positive, though so very quiet. He is devoted to mamma. Then, again, aunty, 56 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOT^RS. there is a good deal of risk in going into speculations and en- terprises at papa's age. Of course, you know I don't know anything about business or that sort of thing ; but it seems to me like a great sea where you are up on the wave to-day and down to-morrow. So if papa really won't go into these things • perhaps it's all for the best." *• But, Eva, it is so important now for the girls.poor things, just going into society -for y .*u know they can't keep out of it, even if you do. It will affect all their chances of settlement in life— and that puts me in mind, Eva, something or other must be done about Alice and Jim Fellows. Everybody is saying if they're not engaged they ought to be." " Oh, aunty, how exasperating the world is ! Can't a man and woman have a plain, honest friendship ? Jim has shown himself a true friend to our family. He came to us just in all the confusion of the failure, and helped us heart and hand in the manliest way — and we all like him. Alice likes him, and and I don't wonder at it" "Well are they Engaged ? " said Aunt Maria, with an air of statistical accuracy. " How should I know ? I never thought of asking. I'm not a police detective, and I always think that if my friends have anything they want me to know, they'll tell me ; and if they don't want me to know, why should I ask them ? " " But, Eva, one is responsible for one's relations. The fact is, such an intimacy stands right in the way of a girl's having good offers — it keeps other parties off. Now, I tell you, as a great secret, there is a very fine man, immensely rich, and every way desirable, who is evidently pleased with Alice." ** Dear me, aunty \ how you excite my curiosity. Pray who is it ? " said Eva. " Well, I'm not at liberty to tell you more particularly ; but I know he's thinking about her ; and this report about her and Jim would operate very prejudicially. Now shall I have a talk with Alice, or will you 1 " " Oh, aunty dear, don't, for pity's sake, say a word to Alice. Young girls are so sensitive about such things. If it must be talked of, let me talk with Alice." " I really thought, if I had a good chance, I'd say something to the young man himself," said Aunt Maria, reflectively. A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. 57 '* Oh, i^ood heavens ! aunty, don't think of it. You don't know Jim Fellows." "Oh, you needn't be afraid of rae," said Aunt Maria. 'M ara a great deal older and more experienced than you, and if I do do anything, you may rest assured it will be in the most dis- creet way. I've managed cases of this kind before you were bom." " But Jim is the most peculiar — " " Oh, I know all about him. Do you suppose I've seen him in and out in the family all this time without understanding him perfectly 1 " " But I don't really think that there is the least of anything serious between him and Alice." " Very likely. He would not be at all the desirable match for Alice. He has very little property, and is rather a wild, rattling fellow j and I don't like newspaper men generally." " Oh, aunty, that's severe now. You forget Harry." " Oh, well, your husband is an exception ; but, as a general rule, I don't like 'em — unprincipled lot I believe," said Aunt M'^ria, with a decisive nod of her head. ** At any rate, Alice can do better, and she ought to." The ringing of the lunch bell interrupted the conversation, much to the relief of Eva, who discovered with real alarm the course her respected relative's thoughts were taking. Of old she had learned that the only result of arguing a point with her was to make her more set in her own way, and she therefore bent all her forces of agreeableness to produce a diversion of mind to other topics. On the principle that doc- tors apply mustard to the feet, to divert the too abundant blood from the head, Eva started a brisk controversy with Aunt Maria on another topic, in hopes, by exhausting her energies there, to put this out of her mind. With what success her strategy was crowned, it will remain to be seen. 58 WR AND OITR NEIOHBOURS, CHAPTER VI. THE SETTLING OF THE WATERS. r by those who know the ways of Mrs. Maria Wouvermans left Eva's T will not be doubted _ family dictators, that „ „„,«»»„„„o ^^n; iu\i%s house after her day's visit in a state of the most balmy self- satisfaction, as one who has done a good day's work. " Well, I've been up at Eva's," she said to her sister, as she !?? .1^" on returning, "and really it was well I went in. 1 hat Mary of hers is getting careless and negligent, just as all old servants do, and I just went over the whole house, and had a plain talk with Mary. She flew up about it, and was im- pertinent, of course ; but I put her down, and I talked plainly to Eva about the way she's beginning with her servants. She's just like you, Nelly, slack and good-natured, and needs some- body to keep her up. I told her the way she is beginning- of petting Mary, and fussing up her room with carpet and pic- tures, and everything, just like any other— wouldn't work Servants must be kept in their places." Now, Mrs. Van Arsdel had a spirit of her own ; and the off- hand, matter-of-fact manner in which her sister was accustomed to speak of her as no manager touched a vital point. What hoiuokeeper likes to have her capacity to guide a house assailed 1 Is not that the spot where her glory dwells, if she has any 1 And It IS all the more provoking when such charges are thrown out in perfect good nature, not as designed to offend, but thrown m par parenMse, as something everybody would acknowledge and too evident to require discussion. While proceeding in the mam part of a discourse Mrs. Wouvermans was quite in the habit of these frank side disclosures of her opinion of her sis- ter s management, and for the most part they were submitted to m acquiescent silence, rather than to provoke a controversy • but to be called « slack " to her face without protest or rejoin- der was more tRan she could bear; so Mrs. Van Arsdel spoke up with spirit : THE SETTLING OF THE WATERS. 59 "Maria, you are always talking as if I don't know how to manage servants. All I know is that you are always changing, and I keep mine years and years." " That's because you let them have their own way," said her sister. " You can keep servants if you don't follow them up, and insist on it that they shall do their duty. Let them run all over you and live like mistresses, and you can keep them. For my part, I like to change — new brooms always sweep clean." " Well, it's a different thing, Maria — you with your small family, and mine with so many. I'd rather bear anything than change." " Oh, well, yes ; I suppose there's no help for it, Nelly. Of course I wasn't blaming you, so don't fire up about it. I know you can't make yourself over," said Aunt Maria. This was the tone with which she usually settled discussions with those who differed from her on modes and measures. After all, they could not be like her, so where was the use of talking 1 Aunt Maria also had the advantage in all such encounters of a confessed reputation as an excellent manager. Her house was always elegant, always in order. She herself was gifted with a head for details that never failed to keep in mind the smallest item, and a wiry, compact constitution that never knew fatigue. She held the keys of everything in her house, and always turned every key at the right moment. She knew the precise weight, quantity, and quality of everything she had in possession, where it was and what it might be used for ; and, as she said, could go to anything in her house without candle in the darkest night. If her servants did not love, they feared her, and had such sense of her ever vigilant inspection that they never even tried to evade her. For the least shadow of disobedience she was ready to send them away at a moment's warning, and then go to the intelligence office and enter her name for another, and come home, put on apron and gloves, and manful! , and thoroughly sustain the department till they came. Mrs. Wouvermans, therefore, was celebrated and lauded by £•11 UcF auqUaLiivauvea ES a pciictu uvuncivcr-jjci, auix viii= cs-^Uvt-i sanction and terror to her pronunciamentos when she walked the rounds as a police inspector in the houses of her relations. 11 m WE AND OUR NEIOHBOriRS. It is ratlior amusing to a geiKjral looker-on in this odd world of ours to contrast the serene, cheerful good faith with which these constitutionally active individuals go about criticising and suggesting, and directing right and left, with the dismay and confusion of mind they leave behind them wherever they operate. ^ They are often what the world calls well-meaning people, animated by a most benevolent spirit, and have no more in- tention of giving offence than a nettle has of stinging. A large, vigorous, well-growing nettle has no consciousness of the stings It leaves in the delicate hands that have been in contact with it ; it has simply acted out its innocent and respectable nature as a nettle. But a nettle armed with the power of locomotion on an ambulatory tour, ^s something the results of which may be fearful to contemplate-. So, after the departure of Aunt Maria our little housekeeper, Eva, was left in a state of considerable nervousness and anxiety' feeling that she had been weighed in the balance of perfection and found vofuUy wanting. She was conscious, to begin with, that hor characteristic virtues as a housekeeper, if she had any' were not entirely in the stylo of her good relative. She was not by nature statistical, nor given to accounts and figures. She was not sharp and keen in bargains ; she was, she felt iii her inmost, trembling soul, a poor little mollusk, without a bit of a shell, hiding in a cowardly way under a rook and ready at any time to be eaten up by big fishes. She had felt so happy in her unlimited trust in Mary, who knew more than she did about house-keeping— but she had been con /icted by her aunt's cross-questions of having resigned the very signet ring and sceptre of her house into her hands. Did she let Mary go aXL over the house 1 Did she put away the washing ? Did Eva allow her to open her drawers 1 Didn't she count her towels and sheets every week, and also her tea-spoons, and keep every drawer and cupboard locked 1 She ought to. To all these in- quiries Eva had no satisfactory response, and began to doubt within herself whether she had begun aright. With sensitive, conscientious people there is always a residuum of self-distrust after discussions of the nature we have indicated, however vigorously and skilfully they may have defended their courses at the time. iV. -I ' Iti TALKING IT OVER. ?' Cwm naw. Puss, out with if. Why ihaf ana:mm brow ? What domestic catastrophe ? " — p. 61. THE SETTLING OF THE WATEllS. 61 i'f i iii'ii I Eva went over and over in her own mind her self-justifica- tions—she told herself that she and her aunt were essentially difterent people, incapable of understanding each other sym- pathetically or acting in each other's ways, and that the well- naeant, positive dicta of her relative were to be let go for what they were worth, and no more. Still she looked eagerly and anxiously for the return of her husband, that she might reinforce herself by talking it over with him. Hers was a nature so transparent that, before he had been five mmutes in fie house, he felt that something had gone wrong; but, the dinner-bell ringing, he retired at once to make his toilet, and did not open the subject till they were fairly seated at table. ^ u " ^ell come now. Puss-out with it ! Why that anxiouc brow ? What do lestic catastrophe ? Anything gone wronjr with the ivies V o © fe • "'PJi' . ^V *^® ^^^®^ ^^® ^'^ "S^^' growing beautifully— it isn t that^— " Well, then, what is it 1 It seems there is something " "Oh, nothing, Harry; only Aunt Maria has been spending the day here. '^ Eva said this with such a perplexed and woful face that Harry leaned back in his chair and laughed. " ^^^* * blessing it is to have relations," he said ; «' but I thought, Eva, that you had made up your mind not to care for anything Aunt Maria says ? " " Well, she has been all over the house, surveying and re- viewing as if she owned us, and she has lectured Mary and got her into hysterics, and talked to me till I am almost bewildered —wondering at everything we mean to do, and wanting us to take her ways and not ours." " My dearest child, why need you care ? Take it as a rain- worm, when you've been caught out without your umbrella. Ihats all. Or why can't you simply and firmly tell her that she must not go over your house or direct your servants ? " "Well, you see, that would never do. She would feel so in- jured and abused. I've only just made up and brought things ^ going smoothly, and got her pacified about our marriage. There would be another fuss if I should talk that way. Aunt Mana always considered me her girl, and maintains that she is 62 WI-; AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. a sort of special guardian to me, and I think it very disaffree donV^"' ^'^^" '^'^^ *"" ^^'■' ^''^' P'®"y decidedly, if you "Oh, don't, don't, Harry ! She'd never forgive you. No Let me manage her. I have been managing her all day to keep the peace, to keep her satisfied and pleased ; to IdhTv itZ "" Ann? M^''''^ content, about thin'gs wheri I can take and lli «ir f^^"\'',/ '^^*^ J^'^S^ «f li««n« and cottons, hot 1 r f *it"''^'^^?"^'' ^"^ «^"*«" *o a certainty jus how much of a thing you'd want, and the price you ought to rj.r^^r^'"-''' ^^''^'' ^'' '' ' ^"^ I have been contriv ng f_\her opinion on a dozen points where I mean to take it • ^^ h'ou'gh'fn'tt ''''' -^^ i^^-Y^,^iB^^ly satrfied ^th her' Tr plans."^ "^"^ ^ ^'*^" *^ S^^^ ^" *« ^^^ a bit about ' S®" ^*^^ ^® ^^^^^"^ *"*^ tired-looking ? " ' Oh well afterjali, when Aunt Maria talks, she says a great many things that have such a degree of sense in them that k worries me. Now, there's a good deal of sense in what she said about trusting too much tS servants, and being troindul- wouW b. rj rr"'! ' ^l^'.''''^ *^ g«* «P«il«d so that they iTke Aunt M W. r?'^ "^"^ ^' ' ^ '*""^<^ *''^^ *h« ^i^ of ™e iike Aunt Maria s hard, ungracious way of living with servants " as if they were machines." ^ servants, ^' Ah, well Eva, it's always so. Hard, worldly people alwavs have a good deal of what looks like practical Se on tZr side and kmdness and unselfishness certainly have their weak points ; there's no doubt of that. The Sermon on the Mount IS open to a great deal of good har worldly criticism, and sol ;* And then you know, Harry, I haven't the least talent for being hard and sharp," said Eva, "and so I may as well take the advantages of my sort of nature." line ,9^^^'°^y y^"" "^y > people never succeed out of theirown "Then there's another trouble. I'm afraid Aunt Maria is THE SETTLING OF THE WATERS. 63 if you going to interfere with Alice, as «he tried to do with me. She said that everybody was talking »bout her intimacy with Jim, and that if / didn't speak to Alice she must." "Confound that woman," said Harry; "she's an unmiti- gated old fool ! She's as bad as a runaway steam engine ; somebody ought to seize and lock her up." " Come, sir, keep a civil tongue about my relations," said Eva, laughing. " Well, I must let off a little to you, just to lower steam to the limits of Christian moderation." "Alice isn't as fond of Aunt Maria as I am, and has a high spirit of her own, and I'm afraid it will make a terrible scene if Aunt Maria attacks her, so I suppose I must talk to her myself ; but what do you think of Jim, Harry ? Is there anytliing in it, on his part?" ^ b , " How can I say 1 you know just as much as I do and no more, and you are a better judge of human nature than I am." " Well, would you like it to have Alice take Jim — supposing there were anything." " Why, yes, very well, if she wants him." " But Jim is such a volatile creature — would you want to trust him 1 " " He is constant in his affections, which is the main thing. I'm sure his conduct when your father failed showed that ; and a sensible, dignified woman like Alice might make a man of him." " It's odd," said Eva, «* that Alice, who is so prudent, and has such a high sense of propriety, seems so very indulge' t to Jim. None of his escapades seem to offend her." " It's the doctrine of counterparts," said Harry ; " the steady sensible nature admires the brilliancy and variety of the vola^ tile one." " For my part," said Eva, " I can't conceive of Jim's saying anything in serious earnest. The very idea of his being senti- mental seems funny — and how can anybody be in love without being sentimental ? " "There are diversities of operation," said Harry. "Jim must make love in his own way. and it will probably be an original one." " But, really now, do you know," persisted Eva, " I think 64 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOUns. Alice might be mated with a man of much higher class than V^^'t ^^iV^^^^'' Z,?*^ ^"S»^*' ^"'J funny and a.^ eabL Yet I don't deny but Alice might do better." ^S^^^^^'^^e- ^ bo she might,, but the perversity of fate is that the sun enor man isn't around, and Jim is; and, ten to one if the" superior man were in the field, Alice would be pe^erse' e^ugh o choose Jim. And, after all, you must confess g^e Jim Fellows a fortune of a million or two, a place in New ca'n VfhT'^f "" ^ ^''''^ «i^«r, and evC yoi wouTd can ^t^ a brilhant match, and think it a fortunate^ thing for I so wSridly 5'^'' "'''^' *^'''' *^' *'"'^' *° ^« «"r«- Am "^?i} h^ ^?^*^ ^®^°®^ ^® "o<^ plentiful, and there are few gems that don't need rich setting. The first questions as to a man are, is he safe, has he no bid habits, is hTSnd and affec tionate m his disposition and capable of constant affecttn her 'nlT^l^' ^''' '^' ^^"^^" ^''^ '^^' '^^ of love that mXes I r^^*r,-^'°i ''7^'? ^° "^<^° that are quite superior ? Now whether Alice feels in that way toward Jim is wC remains to be seen. I'm sure I can't tell. Neither can I tell whethe? Jim has any serious intentions in regard to her. If thrv were only let alone, and not watched and interfered with. I'Wdrbt the thing would adjust itself in the natural course of things nf if T* 't \} ""'"'^^ S^^"S*° "^y club. an^. now I thiik " You have 1 Letters from Ida and Caroline ? You nauahtv creature why didn't you give them to me before ? » ^ ^ Well, your grave face when I first came in put evervthine W T 'i,"'^ ^ff? ' ""? *^^» ^^-^^ «^ ^" thiLalkTbut tf JUS as well, you'll have them to read while I'm gone " '' Don't stay late, Harry." " "No ; you may be sure I've no temptation. I'd much rather be here with you watching our own backlog. ButThen I shall see several fellows about articles for the mfgazine and get a thelatonews, and, in short take an observaLno curVtlde and longitude ; so, au revair ! " «wtumj LETTERS AND AIR CASTLES. 66* CHAPTER VIL Am LETTERS AND AIR-CASTLES. AFTER Harry went out, Eva arranged the fire, dropped the curtains over the window, drew up an easy chair into a warm corner under the gas-light, and began looking over the outside of her Parisian letters with that sort of luxurious en- joyment of delay with which one examines the post-marks and direction of letters that are valued as a great acquisition. There was one from her sifter Ida and one from Harry's cousin Caro- line. Ida's was opened first. It was dated from a boarding- house in the Rue de Clichy, giving a sort of journalised view of her studies, their medical instructors, their walks and duties in the hospital, all told with an evident and vigorous sense of enjoyment. Eva felt throughout what a strong, cheerful, self- sustained being her sister was, and how fit it was that a person so suflficient to herself, so equable, so healthfully balanced and poised in idl her mental and physical conformation, should have undertaken the pioneer work of opening a new profession for women. " I never could do as she does, in the world," was her mental comment, " but I am thankful that she can." And then she cut the envelope of Caroline's letter. To a certain extent there were the same details in it — Caro- line was evidently associated in the same studies, the same plans, but there was missing in the letter the professional enthusiasm, the firmness, the self-poise, and calm clearness. There were more bursts of feeling on the pictures in the Louvre than on scientific discoveries ; more sensibility to the various aesthetic wonders which Paris opens to an uninitiated guest than to the treasures of anatomy and surgery. With the letters were sent two or three poems, contributions to the Magazine — poems full of colour and life, of a subdued fire, but with that undertone of sadness which is ?o common in all femr^^ poets. A portion of the letter may explain this : " You were right, my dear Eva, in saying, in our last int^rr 66 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. ind coimt.y life intolerable to me. Thi. coarse presented to me as .ome^hing feasible. I thought Moo a good worthy care.r-oae m which one might do oie's share of m the world. But. Eva, I c.n he^. ttt thereTs one essen- view, that it did not seem to yo,i that I had the kind of char iV^/ T A ^ »?i "?ore cCTtxii of it from comparing myself f om day to day with Ida, who certainly is lorn Tnd Sfor 16, if ever a woman was. !vj v obo re r. i^ h^ k^r„ • i i • 0% for the reason that I mu^ttii^^^^om^;^:^ ^S^^ ' self-support, and more than that, as a refuge from moS dif b^^es of mm,I jdiich made the still mLZ^T^^^^ Engiand couii^cj life intolerable to me. Thi. coarse presented Itself to me as (^omfifliina f<...ciuu r ..i. . . !i. 1 • , ^T P^®^®"^®4 and wc good in the world, ^m tial difference between Id,', and myself : she 7s Veciriarirself sustained and sufficient to herself, and I am just the Sse I a^ l\ill of vague unrest ; I am chased by sisons^S^x Cnlf to do w^r^' '^^^^^ languor. V has hard TorUo Know what to do with me. You were right in suDDosin^ a^ you intimate in your letter, that a certain^omL^S has something to do with thi. unrest, but you cannot unless vou know my whole history, ku >w how much. There w^atS etrforLutat'^Sref ^ "f '. '' ^^^^ other-when sli^H ever lorget that time ! I was but seventeen : a voune girl so ^norant of hfe ! I never had seen one liki hfm : L was a whole new revelation to me ; he woke up everythbg therlwas m me, never to go to sleep again ; and then tj thinf of havW ovewL'i^^^^^ We? h^cWe T wT.r *'^"«^*^°f > r^ry baseness was laid to th!, wS ,-f I f 7''"'^" ^''^"Sh to have stood for him against the world if he had come to me. I would have left all «r.!J Dut fte did not. There was only one farewell self-acrnsintr ]Z tVemZf't'f \r "7 ^'*^-'« handlVnf rrfame tnXffl i -.u l"^®^^^' For years I thought myself wan- ashamed. I was indignant at myself for the love that mi^hf have been my glory, for it is my solemn belLf, trat tf wThad been let alone he would have been saved all those w^Ued falls, those blind struggles th«,t have n,«.rr.d a iffl tu^e «ifr pose IS yet so noble. '^"^°® P^^' ^' When the fates brough together again in New York, I LETTERS AND AIR CASTLES. 67 me. saw at a glance that whatever may have been the proud, mor- bid conscientiousness that dictated his long silence, he loved me still— a woman knows that by an unmistakable instinct. She' can feel the reality through all disguises. I know that man loves me, and yet he does not now in word or deed make the least profession beyond the boundaries of friendship. He is my friend ; with entire devotion he is willing to spend and be spent for me— but he will accept nothing from me. I, who would give my life to him willingly— I must do nothing for himt " Well, it's no use writing. You see now that I am a very unworthy disciple of your sister. She is so calm and philoso- phical that I cannot tell her all this ; but you, dear little Eva, you know the heart of woman, and you have a magic key which unlocks everybody's heart in confidence to you. I seem to see you, in fancy, with good Cousin Harry, sitting cosily in your chimney-comer; your ivies and nasturtiums growing round your sunny windows, and an everlasting summer in your pretty parlours, while the December winds whistle without. Such a life as you two lead, such a house as your home, is worth a thousand * careers ' that dazzle ambition. Send us more letters, journals, of all your pretty, lovely home life, and let me warm myself m the glow of your fireside. "Your Cousin, Carry." Eva finished this letter, and then folding it up sat with it in her lap, gazing into the fire, and pondering its contents. If the truth must be told, she was revolving in her young, busy brain a scheme for restoring Caroline to her lover, and setting them up comfortably at house-keeping on a contiguous street, where she had seen a house to let. In five minutes she had gone through the whole programme— seen the bride at the altar, engaged the house, bought the furniture, and had before her a vision of parlours, of snuggeries and cosy nooks, where Caroline was to preside, and where Bolton was to lounge at his ease, while she and Caroline compared house-keeping ac- counts. Happy young wives develop an aptitude for match- making as naturally as flowers spring in a meadow, and Eva was losing herself in this vision of Alnaschar, when a loud, im- perative, sharp bark of a dog at the front door of the house called her back to life and the world. 68 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOUttS. Now there are as many varieties to dog-barks as to man talks Ihere IS the common bow-wow, which means nothing, only that It IS a dog speaking ; there is the tumultuous angry bark which means attack ; the conversational bark, which, of a moonhght night, means gossip; and the imperative staccato bark which means immediate business. The bark at the front door was of this kind : it was loud and sharp, and with a sort ot indignant imperativeness about it, as of one accustomed to be attended to immediately. Eva flew to the front door and opened it, and there sat Jack, the spoiled darling of Miss Dorcas Vanderheyden and her sister, over the way. "Why, Jacky! where did you come from?" said Eva. Jacky sat up on his haunches aad waved his forepaws in a vigorous manner, as was his way when he desired to be specially ingratiating. ^ "^ Eva seized him in her arms and carried him into the parlour, thinking that as he had accidentally been shut out for the night she would domesticate him for a while, and return him to his owners on the morrow. So she placed him on the ottoman in the corner and attempted to caress him, but evidently that was not the purpose he had in view. He sprang down, ran to the aoor and snuffed, and to the front windows and barked imperi- " Why, Jack, what do you want ? " He sprang into a chair and barked out at the Vanderheyden Eva looked at the mantel clock— it wanted a few minutes of ten— without, it was a bright moonlight night. " I'll run across with him, and see what it is," she said. She was young enough to enjoy something like an adventure. She opened the front door and Jack rushed out, and then stopped to see If she would follow ; as she stood a moment he laid hold on the skirt of her dress, as if to pull her along. "Well, Jacky, I'll go," said Eva. Thereat the creature bounded across the street and up the steps of the opposite house where he stood waiting. She went up and rang the door-bell which appeared to be what he wanted, as he sat down quite contented on the doorstep. Nobody came. Eva looked up aad down the street. " Jacky, LETTERS AND AIR-CASTLES. 69 we shall have to go back, they are all asleep," she said. But Jacky barked contradiction, sprang nearer to the door, and in- sisted on being let in. " WeU, if you say so, Jacky, I must ring again," she said, »^<1 with that she pulled the door-bell louder, and Jack barked with all his might, and the two succeeded after a few moments in causing a perceptible stir within. PJpwly the door unclosed, and a vision of Miss Dorcas in an old-fashioned broad-frilled night-cap peeped out. She was at- tired m a black water-proof cloak, donned hastily over her night gear. " Oh, Jack, you naughty boy ! " she exclaimed, stooping eagerly to the prodigal, who sprung tumultuously into her arms and began licking her face. "I'm so much obliged to you, Mrs. Henderson," she said to JJiVa. " We went down in the omnibus this afternoon, and we suddenly missed him, the naughty fellow," she said, endeavour- ing to throw severity into her tones. Eva related Jack's ruse. "Did you ever!" said Miss Dorcas; "the creature knew that we slept in the back of the hous-., and he got you to ring our door bell. Jacky, what a naughty fellow you are ! " ^^^- P.^fs®y »ow appeared on the stairc. • ri an equal state of dishabille : " Oh dear, Mrs. Henderson, we are so shocked ! " "Dear me, never speak of it. I think it was a cunning trick ot Jack. He knew you were gone to bed, and saw I was up, and so got me to ring his door-bell for him. 1 don't doubt he rode up town in the omnibus. Well, good-night ! " And Eva closed the door, and flew back to her own little nest just in time to let in Harry. The first few moments after they were fairly by the fireside were devoted to a recital of the advpnfnre, with dramatic re- presentations of Jack and his mistrcc r " It's a capital move on Jack's part. It got me into the very interior of the fortress. Only think of seeing them in their night-caps ! That is carrying all the outworks of ceremony at a move." "^ ''To say nothing of their eternal gratitude," said Harry. " Oh, that of course. They were ready to weep on my neck 70 WB AND OUR NErOHBOURS. I. I H i'h joy that 1 had brought the dear little plague back to them, ad I don t doubt are rejoicing over him at this moment. But, oh, Harry, you must hear the girls' Paris letters." " Are they very long 1 " said Harry. " Fie now, Hany ; you ought to be interested in the girls." "Why, of course I am," said Harry, pulling out his watch, " only— wl»a+ *itne is it ? " -> r o , " Ouiy iiaii-pust ten— not a bit late," said Eva. As she be- gan to read Ida's letter, Harry settled back in the embrace of a luxunous chair, with his feet stretched out ■ owards the fire, and gradually the details of Paris life mingled pleasingly with a dream— a fact of which Eva was made aware as she asked him suddenly what he thought of Ida's views on a certain pomt. " Now, Harry— you haven't been asleep ? " "Just a moment. The very least in the world," uaid Harry, looking anxiously alert and sitting up very straight. Then Eva read Caroline's letter. " No ir, isn't it too bad 1 " she said, with eagerness, as she fininhe^. " Yes, it is," said Harry, very gravely. " But, '^va dear it's one of those things that you and I can do nothing > help— it IS avdyicrj" " What's ananke 1 " " The name the old Greeks gave to that perverse Somethi th&^ brought ruin and misery in spite of and out of the b« human efforts." '- But want to bring these two together."- "Be ireful how you try, darling. Who knows vv^hat the results may be ? It's a subject Bolton lever speaks of, where he has his own purposes and conclusions ; and it's the best thing for Caroline to be where she has as many allurements and distr witions as she has in Paris, and such a wise, calm, strong jfriend as your sister. " And row, dear, mayn't I go to bed ? " he added, with pa- thor " You' e no idea, dear, ho sleepy I am." " 1, c ainly, you po boy," said Eva, bustling about and Tjnt.f.' flr n -V\a /»V>oi»ic. «»..] U^«1 — i i 1 ' ji i" Tj "i •!•, i/Uci>ii3 aiit4 uOur..r: j;:rj:;ir:itiiiy L.'» i(!av'ing in-" parlour. LETTERS AND AIR-CASTLES. 71 ♦k '1T°" «f '" ^^l®*'"^' 8V?g "P »*ai"» " he was so imperious that I really had to go with him." " He ! Who ? " "Why, Jack to be sure, he did all hut '^peak," said Eva brush m hand, and letting down her curls before the tlass! You see 1 was m a reverie over those letters when the bark- ing roused me— I don't think you ever heard such a barking • and when I got him in, he wouldn't be contented— kept insist-' mg on my going over with him— wasn't it strange 1 " Harry, by this time composed for the night and half asleep, said it was. *^* In a few moments he was aroused by Eva's saying, suddenly, Harry I really think I ought to bring them together. Wow, couldn't I do something ? " *' With Jack ? " said Harry, drowsily, ni "ht '^^ '~^^' ^^^ «l«®Py-h«a " Jim, you bad fellow ! How can you talk so 1 " " Well it's a serious fact now. Ministers oughtn't to look so pious! Its too much a temptation. Why, last Sunday, when he came trailmg by so soft and meek, and ksked me what books we wanted, I perfectly longed to rip out an oath and say, * Whv m thunder can't you speak louder.' It's a temptation of the devil I know ; but you mustn't let St. John and me run too much together, or I shall blow out." " Oh, Jim, you mustn't talk so. Why you really shock me — ^you grieve me." "Well, you see I've given up swearing for ever so long, but some kinds of people do tempt me fearfully, and he's one of 'em. and then I think that he must think I'm a wolf in sheep's clo- thing. But then, you see, a wolf understands those cubs better than a sheep, j. ou ought to hear how I put gospel into them. 1 make em come out on the responses like little Trojans I've JIM AND ALICE. 83 I'- jjromised every boy who is * sharp up' on his Collect ne.:t Sun- day a new pop-gun." " O Jim, you creature ! " said Alice, laughing. " By George, Alice, it's the best way. You don't know any- thing about these little heathen. You've got to take 'em where they live. They put up with the Collect for the sake of the pop-gun, you see." " But, Jim, I really was in hopes that you would look on this thing seriously," said Alice, endeavouring to draw on a face of protest. ** Why, Alice, I am serious ; didn't I go round to the high- ways and hedges, drumming up those little varmints 1 Not a soul of them would have put his head inside a Sunday-school room if it hadn't been for me. I tell you I ought to be encou- raged now. I'm not appreciated." '* Oh Jim, yon have done beautifully." " I should think I had. I keep a long face while they are there, and don't swear at Mr. St. ffohn, and sing like a church- robin. So I think you ought to let me let out a little to you going home. That eases my mind ; it's the confessional — Mr, St. John believes in that. I didn't swear mind you. I only felt like it ; may-be that'll wear off, by-and-by. So don't give me up, yet." " Oh, I don't ; and I'm perfectly sure, Jim, that you are the very person that can do good to these wild boys. Of course the free experience of life which young men have enables them to know how to deal with such cases better than we girls can." " Yes, you ought to hear me expound the commandments, and put it into them about stealing and lying. You see Jim knows a thing or two, and is up to their tricks. They don't come it round Jim, I tell you. Any boy that don't toe the crack gets it. I give 'em C sharp with the key up." " Jim, you certainly are original in your ways ! But I dare say you're right," said Alice. " You know how to get on with them." " Indeed I do. I tell you I know what's what for these boys, though I don't know, and don't care about, what the old coves did in the first two centuries, and all that. Don't you think, Alice, St. John is a little pro»y on tha'o chapter 1 " " Mr. St. John is such a good man that I receive everything .r s, 84 WE ANP OrR NEIGH BOUKS. he says on subjects where he knows more than I do," said Alice, virtuously. " Oh, pshaw, Alice ! if a fellow has to swallow every good man's hobby-horses, hoois. tail and all, why ho' 11 have a good deal to digest. I tell you, St. John is too * other- worldl;,' as Charles Lamb used to say. He ought to get in love, and ^et married. I think, now, that if our little Angle woiiM take him in hand she would bring him into mortal spheres, make a nice fellow of him." " Oh, Mr. St. John never will marry," said Alice, solemnly ; " he is devoted to the church. He has published a tract on holy virginity that is beautiful." "Holy grandmother!" said Jim; "that's all bosh. Ally. Now you are too sensible a girl to talk that way. That's going to Rome on a high canter." " I don't think so," said Alice, stoutly. " For my part, I think if a man, for the sake of devoting himself to the church, gives up family cares, [ reverence him. I like to feel that my rector is something sacred to the altar. The very idea of a clergyman in any other than sacred relations is disagreeable to me." ** Go it, now ! so long as I'm not the clergyman ! " " You sauce-box ! " " Well, now, mark my words. St. John is a man, after all, and not a Fra Angelico ingel, with a long neck and a lily in his hand, and, I tell you, when Angle sits there at the head of her class, working and fussing over those girls, she looks confound- edly pretty, and if St. John finds it out I shall think the better of him, and / think he will." " Pshaw, Jim, he never looks at her." " Don't he 1 he does though. I've seen him go round and round, and look at her as if she was an electrical bat- tery, or something that he was afraid might go off and kill him. But he does look at her. I tell you, Jim knows the signs of the sky." With which edifying preparation of mind, Alice found herself at the door of the Sunday-school room, where the pair were graciously received by Mr. St. John. said MR. ST. JOHN. 85 CHAPTER X. MR. ST. JOHN. THAT go(> n, in the calm innocence of his heart, was ignora the temptations to which he exposed his tumultuous yoiiug disciple. He was serenely gratified with the sight of Jim's handsome f e, and alert, active figure, as he was enacting good shepherd over his unruly flock. Had he known the exact nature of the motives which he presented to lead them to walk in the ways of piety, he might have searched a good while in primitive records before finding a churchly precedent. Arthur St. John was by nature a poet and idealist. He was as pure as a chrysolite, as refined as a flower ; and, being thus, had been, by the irony of fate, born on one of the bleakest hill- sides of New Hampshire, where there was a literal famine of any esthetic food. His childhood had been fed on the dry husks of doctrinal cathechism ; he had sat wearily on hard high-backed seats and dangled his little legs hopelessly through sermons on the difference between justification andsanctification. His ultra- morbid conscientiousness had been wrought into agonized con- vulsions by stringent endeavours to carry him through certain prescribed formulse of conviction of sin and conversion ; efforts which, grating against natures of a certain delicate fibre, pro- duce wounds and abrasions which no after-life can heal. To such a one the cool shades of the Episcopal Church, with its or- derly ways, its poetic liturgy, its artistic ceremonies, were as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land. No converts are so disposed to be ultra as converts by reaction ; and persons of a poetic and imaginative temperament are peculiarly liable to these extremes. Vvearied with the intense and noisy clangour of modern thought, it was not strange if he should come to think free inquiry an evil, look longingly back on the ages of simple cre- dulity, and believe that the dark ages of intellect were the n^ w IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 LA 12.8 |« |3j2 1 1 1.25 iu ■ 23 2.2 2.0 1.8 1.6 150mm V 'J >; V /flPPLIED_J IIVMGE Inc ^^ 1653 East Main street ^^^ Rochester, NY 14609 USA ^^^^= Phone: 716/482-0300 sss:^^ Fax: 716/288-5989 1993, Applied Image, Inc., All Rights Rewrved ^' '^!?' "" ^^ *^*' '^^y ^^^-^ ^« <>» P«'«o«« of exLme sensibility and conscientiousness. He could not think of retain- -?f/^\- ' i° indulgence or a luxury while wants so terrible nS^'°ti!^ *^^ fa«« v»»»na»»i ;--_---_:->». ^-u.j. tashionable women were in heathen darkness, and spent on 92 WE AND OUR. NEIOHBOURa « hi, miniate, .f^Sttag'" hX'',i:^rho^''".:^^rt? full w worXToWi aS Aim K^S""' *^''' "'«' ""» "o 'he those brilliant ^e^K ^i?h iiTW i' "", ""o'*' "' «°y »' of .11 to diatrnt Tur TteMfiTn * " m" P'™"^ ""» "ier sinftland dvi"g world " pdgnmage through thi. s«rifiS^h;:: wih"izr« 5° •'T!!!' ^y »«"' » *« «howed her thlHur 100^1.^1/!**"?' «'""»<">-««n«e which UtenJly obeyed. *^ ""P"'"" »~ "■" »l"'»y» <» be in t^mtSerrhurZ "^T" "^ ■■" » g^d 't^d to the lengtt*of differin^Tir.C'^ T" f^f" ^ «' ««"'» up as an Mgel anX I J .""""^ *" '''""» **» '«>ked fafll I Innlri i °i ""^^ "P *« ^^u'ch without my br^ that comef on/' "" ^""^^^ ^''^^^ ^^ stupid when Thus Angie concluded by her own liHl* l,«i,* • u separate way that « f.n ^« " j® ? "S"*' '^ her own N^v^ntK 1 ^' 1^ "* **® S^^ "w^as better than saprifip^ '» Nevertheless, she supposed all this was because sh^ ««^"S^-' ,! MB. ST. JOHN, 93 SSliU I T-^ ^^\ ^?' ^'^ "°* Mr. St John fast 1- doubtless It gave him headache, but he waa so good he went on just as weU with a headache as without-and Angle felt how far she must rise to be like that ^ There fi,.^ » °^^' ^l^ "^^"^ FeUows, triumphantly, to AUce, as they were coming home, "didn't you see your angel of t" churches looking in a certain direction this morning 1 " oi,o ^'li"^' *^ * ^*®* '■®^*''*' * ^"n<^ <*f reserved d^iity which ei^St "^'"^ ''^'"'^"' '^' ^'^ '«^y arS^deeply In I, ""^""'L^^® said, without a smile, and in a grave tone. "I rxS°?i T®?*'® *^** y**" ""^ * *™« friend to us all " u A A P® ^°'" ®*^^ '^*"' wonderingly. give ml p^n. "^ ^^'^ kind-hearted and considerate to wish to " Certainly I am." „ Jl^*"' •***?' P''^"'*^® ?® "®^®' ^ °»ake remarks of that nature again, to me or anybody else, about Angie and Mr. St JohiL It would be more distressing and annoying to her than s^ge-hearted and unconstrained and cheerful as a bird in her work. The least intimation of this kind might make her con- scious and uncomfori^ble, and spoil it aU^ So promise me * ^tZTi^^ ^*^ monitress with the kind of wicked twinkle a naughty boy gives to his mother, to ascertain it she is really in earnest, but Alice maintained a brow of ' eet austere composure/' and looked as if she expected to be oVayed. WeU, I perfectly long for a hit at St John," he said, « but if you say so, so it must b3." ^ ^1 You promise on your honour 1 " insisted Alice. jes, I promise on my honour; so there ! " said Jim " I won t even wink an eyelid in that direction. I'D make 'a pei- fect stock and stone of myself. But," headded, "Jim can have his thoughts for all that" AJice was not exactly satisfied with the position assumed by her disciple, she therefore proceeded to fortifir him in h height- And the an air of >h cheeks kin^.» m, in an ie time ; I have ook and )ugh on r of the 8n they ch. i ft'¥f' CHAPTER XT. AUNT MARIA CLEARS HER CONSCIENCE. WHEN Mrs. Wouvennans met our young friends, she was just returning home after performing her morn- ing devotions in one of the most time-honoured churches in New York. She was as thorough and faithful in her notions of religion as of housekeeping. She adhered strictly to her own church, in which undeniably none but ancient and respect- able families worshipped, and where she was perfectly sure that whatever of dress or deportment she saw was certain to be the correct thing. It WM a church of eminent propriety. It was large and loftjr, with long-drawn aisles and excellent sleeping accommo- dations, where tne worshippers were assisted to dream of heaven by every applicance of sweet music, and not rudely shaken in their slumbers by any obtnisiveness on the part of the rector. In fact, everything about the services of this church was thoroughly toned down by ^ood breeding. The responses of the worshippers were given in decorous whispers that scarcely disturbed- the solemn stillness; for when a congregation of the best-fed and best-bred people of New York on their knees de- clare themselves " miserable sinners," it is a matter of delicacy to make as little disturbance about it as possible. A well-paid choir of the finest professional singers took the whole responsi- bility of praising S id into their own hands, so that the respect- able audience were relieved from any necessity of exertion in that department. As the most brilliant lights of the opera were from time to time engaged to render the more solemn parts of the service, flocks of sinners who otherwise would never have entered a church crowded to hear these " morning stars sing together ;" let us hope, to their great edification. The sermons of the rector, delivered in the dim perspective, had a plaintive, far-off sound, as a voice of one "crying in the wilderness," and crying at a very great distance ^ Tlis was H V^E AND OUR NEIOHBOURa cl.u«h.. were S^ oXl^'^^},Z^y' "h™ E-jIUh unadaptcd for any Dunx«M nf^i '?V"^> "« ent&ely voice llld .bout aaSXnlrf.iL','^ •."■«' "A"'" » "»"^ wl«rei„ the th„ro4M.^.TlW y" k" " «.f he.,,„ke.„y. fl"t, thi tenCTtoSonC,'' P'^'f !? '«»'■■«' '"» thing" : mng tendenoie. in the ch«^ ' ni T"^' "9^ «««■«■>- John, who Kot ud to mHv „„?' . """"S miMionary, St. P«yeW .ve?;'I™i:^t'J7;X-»7tuaIhou«,S h«i Sunday and evervfiRinf'r^-,,^^'^*", communion every I>ays,LcajTed'^onXr.T^^^^^ *" *!j* ^^^r to pray without ceasC aC?r«H / t- *"^ ?^^°»*<^ "*«rally sonationoftheRomangTnd:L^on^ ^'"'""5 ''^^^^ those who troubled Israel Tho ? * .?. . ® '*«*' *"3 one of ladies of the old eLE«w u^ S^* **"** °^7 «f the younir ministered we!;"^^^^ flt?u^Tl^^^ turber gave to him awLliSn^ ^ t?^ the services of this dis- te^^'A^e'n'Slten'S'pL!: ^"'- ^^-^i that well-worn than all the watered? Jordan ^^% ''7'' of Damascus, better be clean 1 " *''*'^*'' ' ^^^ I not wash in thim and that the rivers ofI)rmascu« t?r ^^ ^.^ P'^^^^ed it, and ve^^ed from his own ^''' ^^^ '^^ ^^^'^ *aith thkt di- and there was in^e Wm of fi« *^^ ?"/^ «^°^*^ ^«forms ted to state, a ^p^^^^^^^^ church he^elf, he regret-' of Romish aboStdons IS thf ^ *^' ^*^t"* *"^ ^^^^ uvmuiawons. AH these were to be avoiH«d -^-^ I -;« 'f^ 'J AHNT MARIA CLEARS HER CONSCIENCE. 97 people were to walk in those quiet paths of godliness in which they had been brought up to walk, and, in short, do pretty much OS they had been doing, undisturbed by new notions, or movements, or idejw, whether out of the church or in. And as he plaintively recited these exhortations, his voice coming m a solemn and spectral tone ado»m the far-oflF aisles, it seemed to give a dreamy and unreal effect even to the brisk modem controversies and disturbances which formed his theme. The gorgeous, many-coloured lights streamed silentlv the while through tho stained windows, turning the bald head of one an- cient churchwarden yellow, and of another green, and another purple, while the white feathers on Mrs. Demas's bonnet passed gr^ually through successive tints of the rainbow ; and the audience dosed off at intervals, and awakened again to find the rector at another head, and talking about something else : and 80 on till the closing ascription to the Trinity, when eve.^ i>ody rose with a solemn sense that something or other was over. The greater part of the audience in the intervals of somnolency congratulated themselves that thsp were in no danger of run- ning after new ideas, and thanked God that they never specu- lated about philosophy. As to turning out to daily morning and evening pi-ayers, or fasting on any days whatsoever, or going into any extravagant excesses of devotion and self-sacri- fice, they were only too happy to find that it was their duty to resist the very suggestion as tending directly to Romanism. The true Jordan, they were nappy to find, ran directly through their own particular church, and they had only to con- tinue their stated Sunday naps on its borders as before. Mrs. Wouvermans, however, was not of a dozing or dreamy nature. Her mind, such as it was, was always wide awake and cognizant of what she was about. She was not susceptible of a dreamy state : to use an idiomatic phrase, she was always up and dressed ; everything in her mental vision was clear cut, and exact. The sermon was intensified in its effect upon her by the state of the Van Arsdel pew, of which she was on this Sunday the only occupant. The feet was, that the ancient and respectable church in which she worshipped, had just been through a contest, in which Mr. Simons, a young assistant rec- tor, had been attempting to introduce some of the very practices «i«ted &i in the discourse. This fervid young man, full of ^r§ I 98 WB AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. Europe to ^ecov^r torn a bronSL^fe' ""h '^" ""* *° to do for miS ctSs TOte,"T *^°- ^^ '""""^ ritual, he eet himsdf to Se vlrid »S^ »t«> «ther of r^%c?a\imy'^tTaar^^ '^'^ *"^ intrenchment cushioned and ample wUh l^f^w ^ ' ^"^""^l waJl-pew, weU there was room Z 5 Ir\^ '^^"^/"^^^ *»^ prayer-books : Maria sat rthi plea^t sSTi* ?^ •*^**' and here Aunt the church, aU ISeThe felt ^^ ^"^'''^^ *^,^?" danger of Tishbite, a; if sTonly wL L^^^^ the her faith. ^ ® ^^ *^ «*»°d »P for the altars of . far^tJt a;rS' ""^Wh if ^"""^ ^ ^** *" ^'^ "^ <>" very and when shetttin r^.^t^^l''^.'^'''^SthenrehnrnJJ' -_„a!n ni^uu^cu guara m tiiepewat afternoofl AUNT MARIA CLEARS HER CONSCIENCE. 99 service, and atill found herself alone, she resolved to clear her conscience ; and so she walked straight up to Nelly's, to see why none of them were at church. " It's a shame, Nelly, a perfect shame ! There wasn't a creature but myself in our pew to-day, and good Dr. Gushing giving such a sermon this morning ! " This to Mrs. Van Arsdel, whom she found luxuriously en- sconced on a sofa drawn up before the fire in her bedroom. " Ah, well, the fact is, Maria, I had such a headache this morning," replied she, plaintively. "Well, then, you ought to have made your husband and family go ; somebody ought to be there ! It positively isn't respectable." " Ah, well, Maria, my husband, poor man, gets so tired and worn out with his we«^ work, I haven't a heart to get him up early enough for morning service. Mr. Van Arsdel isn't feeling quite well lately ; he hasn't been out at all to-day." " Well, there are the girls, Alice and Angelique andMarie, where are they 1 All going up to that old Popish, ritualistic chapel, I suppose. It's too bad. Now, that's all the result of Mr. Simon's imprudences. J. told yiu, in the time of it, just what it would lead to. It leads straight to Rome, just as I said. Mr. Simons set them a-going, and now he is gone, and they go where they have lighted candles on the altar every Sunday, and Mr. St. John prays with his back to them, and has processions, and wears all sorts of heathenish robes ; and your daughters go there, Nelly." The very plumes in Aunt Maria's hat nodded with warning energy as she spoke. " Are you swe the candles are lighted f " said Mrs. Van Ars- del, sitting up with a weak show of protest, and looking gravely into the fire. " I was up there once, and there were candles on the altar, to be sure, but they were not lighted." " They are lighted," said Mrs. Wouvermans, with awful pre- cision. " I've been up there myself and seen them. Now, how can you let your children run at loose ends so, Nelly ? I only wish you had heard the sermon this m'^rmng. He showed the danger of running into Popery j and it reidly was enough to make one's blood run cold to h^r how those infidels are at- tacking the church, carrying all before them ; and then to think 100 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. tl^t the only true church should be all gettini? divided and del, Sliy^^ ^^* ^« ^^ ^'" «^^^' Van Ai.- "And we've got both kinds of trouble in our familv Fv*'o husband 18 reading all What's-his-name's work^Zt Lol„Hn« 7Vl^^ "^^ '}t':' f °^ *^«" E^» «°d thr^ltToW after tWs St ^hn^and he's leading them as straig?^ to^SflS'tty . Poor Mrs. Van Arsdel was somewhat fluttered bv tbi« «]»,^ mg view of the case, and clasped her nrettv fef Hi^ ^a knowfe Lw ™^^»»^> »^d as to Mr. St. John-you "Oh, weil, M«n«," said Mrs. Vm, Ar«l.l ^iL.-. i„ u--. »phyr stawl about her with . sort oFooisJlito'o^llSo^m™;' m AUNT MARIA CLEARS HER CONSCIENCE. 101 ided and y awfnL" ^an Ars- T. Eva's Bvolution ifter this B as they is alarm- e hands, i looked i. "He « to talk in — ^you rch, and ohn is a I almost >id him, ►uld." • can be ) an ex- I don't proces- i out of lat sort ads to! dlhave 'aiholics goings sweep le held ass of hating would iment, i I i and settling herself cosily back on her sofa, "it's evident that the Bishop doesnt see just as you do, and I am content to al- i';;ir^*^ l'^^"'-! ^' ^J^^ ^^* *^^y «« ^^ enough to judge for themselves, and, besides, I think they are Soing some good by teaching in that mission school. I hope so, at ^Tm K" "^^^^ '°"^^?'^ ^«^P i* if I ^«"ld. But, do tell me, did Mrs. Demas have on her new bonnet ? " » «" "*«. "Yes, she did/' said Aunt Maria, with vigour; "and I can teU you It's a perfect fright, if it did come from Paris. Another Ihmg i B&^—fnnges have come round again/ Mrs. Larmar's new cloak was trimmed with fringe " ^rmars oii'I J""" ^""^ui '*^ ''*'" '*i^ ^^«- ^»° A^sdel, contemplating all the possible consequences of this change. « There was an- other reason why I couldn't go out this morning," she added S« tLTt'^^f y-" ^ *^^ "^ ^«°^«<^- Adrienf; couldXet the kind of ruche necessa^ to finish it till next week, and the old one 18 too shabby. Were the Stuyvesants out?" 1«.f ; ' ^? '° ^"" ^*'^?' ^^^ ^^ *^« «a°»e bonnet she wore laet year, done over with a new feather." vltjf' u S*^Y^««a5^t« can do as they please," said Mrs. wh^tXlilI."''''^^°^y ^"^''' ^^'^ *^^y *™' ^«* *^«°^ ^^-^ "Emma Stuyvesant had a new Paris hat and a sacque JZS,f T'T?T,"^^1 ^°ee," continued Aunt Mari^^"? vSV ^°"' >'^."^® y°" ^»» "se ^hat was on your velvet dress over ^m ; it's just as good as ever." «„„«?® 11 T T* , ^^' * moment the great advantage of going punctu^y ta church appeared to Mrs. Van Arsdel. " Dil you see Sophie Sidney 1 " « jwu K„r \®\ ^^® was gorgeous in a mauve suit with hat to match ; bu she has gone oflf terribly in her looks-yeUow as a lemon.'' this topic of conversation better than the dangers of the church, .nw ^?' ' the Davenports were there, and the Livingstones, and ofcourse Polly Elmore, with her tribe, looking life birds fl^.^^^' . ^5^ *"*?''''* ^f *^« ^'^d °»<>°?7 and thought that family ^ves to dress is enormous! John Cavenport Stopped «. 5K. w "*® ^'^"^S ^'^^^ of ch^'ch. He says, 'SeeiSto ^oum;i;«'*""'5"°^?*' y^*"^ >^°""« ^«^i«« have deserted us ; you mustn t suflfcr them to stray from the fold,' says he. I aaw be bad his eye on our pew when he first came into church." 102 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. I thmk, Maria, you really are quite absurd in your sua- picions about that man," said Mrs. Van Arsdel. « I don't thmk there's anything in it." " Well, just wait now and see. I know more about it than T?.^' F °^^y ^^*^® manages her cards right, she can get that man." ° "Alice will never manage cards for any purpose. She is too proud for that. She hasn't a bit of policy." "And there was that Jim Fellows waiting on her home. 1 met him this morning, just as I turned the corner." " Well, Alice tries to exert a good influence over Jim, and has Mt him to teach in Mr. St. John's Sunday-school." " Fiddlesticks I What does he care for Sunday-school 1 " " Welli the girls all say that he does nicely. He has more influence over that class of boys than anybody else would." " LUcely ! Set a rogue to catch a rogue," said Aunt Maria. "It s his being seen so much with Alice that I'm thinking of. You may depend ui)on it, it has a bad effect." Mrs. Van Arsdel dreaded the setting of her sister's mind in this direction, so by way of effecting a diversidn she rang and mqmred when tea would be ready. As the door opened, the sound of very merry singing came up stairs. Angelique was seated at the piano and playing tunes out of one of the Sunday- school manuals, and the whole set were singing with might and main. Jim's tenor could be heard above all tne rest. " Why, is that fellow here 1" said Aunt Maria. "Yes," said Mrs. Van Arsdel ; « he very often stays to tea with us Sunday nights, and he and the girls sing hymns to- gether." . ,".Py°^^ •' " «*id A'lnt Maria. " I should call that a regular jollification that they are having down there." " Oh, well, Maria, they are singing children's tunes out of one of the little Sunday-school manuals. You know children's tunes are so different from old-fashioned psalm tunes ! " Just then the choir below struck up "Forward, Christian soldier," with a marching energy and a vivacity that was positively startling, and, to be sure, not in the least like the old, long- AUNT MARIA CLEARS HER CONSCIENCE. 103 your sus- " I don't it it than e can get . She is borne. 1 Jim, and lool 1 " tias more mid." it Maria, nking of. mind in rang and }ned, the que was Sunday- light and ys to tea ^mns to- i regular s out of hildren's ositively Ad, long- K drawn, dolorous strains once supposed to be peculiar to devo- tion. In fact, one of the greatest signs of progress in our modern tunes is the bursting forth of religious thought and feeling in childhood and youth in strains gay and airy as hope and happiness — melodies that might have been learned of those bright little " fowls of the air," of whom the Master bade us take lespons, so that a company of wholesome, healthy, right- minded young people can now get together and express them- selves in songs of joy, and hope, and energy, such as childhood and youth ought to be full of. Let those who will talk of the decay of Christian faith in our day ; so long as songs about Jesus and His love are burst- ing forth on every hand, thick as violets and apple blossoms in June, so long as the little Sunday-school song books sell by thousands and by millions, and spring forth every year in in- creasing numbers, so long will it appear that faith is ever fresh- springing and vital. It was the little children in the temple who cried, " Hosanna to the Son of David," when chief priests and scribes were scowling and saying, " Master, forbid them," and doubtless the same dear Master loves to hear these child- songs as then. At all events, our little party were having a gay and festive time over two or three new collections of Clarion, Golden Chain, Golden Shower, or what not, of which Jim had brought a pocketful for the girls to try, and certainly the melodies as they came up were bright and lively and pretty enough to stir one's blood pleasantly. In fact, botli Aunt Maria and Mrs. Van Arsdel were content for a season to leave the door open and listen. " You see," said Mrs. Van Arsdel, " Jim is such a pleasant, convenient, obliging fellow, and has done so many civil turns for the family, that we quite make him at home here ; we don't mind him at all. It's a pleasant thing, too, and a convenience, now the boys are gone, to have some young man that one feels perfectly free with to wait on the girls ; and where there are so many of them, there's less danger of anything particular. There's no earthly danger of Alice's being specially interested in Jim. He isn't at all the person she would ever think seri- ously of, though she likes him as a friend." Mrs. Wouvermans apparently acquiesced for the time in H 104 WB AND OUR NEIQHBOUKS. this reasoning, but secretly resolved to watch appearances nar- rowly this evening, and if she saw what warranted the move- ment to take the responsibility of the case into her own hands forthwith. Her perfect immutable and tranquil certainty that she was the proper person to manage anything within the sphere of her vision, gave her courage to go forward, in spite of the fears and remonstrances of any who might have claimed that they were parties concerned. Mr. Jim Fellows was one of those persons in whom a sense of humour operates as a subtle lubricating oil through all the internal machinery of the mind, causing all, which might other- wise have jarred or grated, to slide easily. Many things which would be a torture to more earnest people were to him a source of amusement. In fact, humour was so far a leading faculty that it was difficult to keep him within limits of propriety and decorum, and prevent him from racing off at unsuitable periods like a kitten after a pin-ball, skipping over all solemnities of etiquette and decorum. He had not been so long intimate in the family without perfectly taking the measure of so very active and forth-putting a member as Aunt Maria. He knew exactly— as well as if she had told him— how she regarded him, for his knowledge of character was not the result of study, but that sort of clear sight, which, in persons of quick percep- tive organs, seems like a second sense. He saw into persons without an effort, and what he saw for the most part only amused him. He perceived immediately on sitting down to tea that he was under the glai.oe of Mrs. Wouvermans' watchful and critical eye, and the result was that he became full and ready to boil over with wicked drollery. With an apparently grave face, without passing the limits of the most ceremonious politeness and decorum, he contrived, by a thousand fleeting indescriba- 11 u*"^"^ ^^'^- ®^*^^°S intonations and adroit movements to get all the girls into a tempest of suppressed gaiety. There are wicked rogues known to us all who have this magical power of making those around them burst out into indiscreet sallies of laughter, while they retain the most edifying and innocent air of gravity. Seated next to Aunt Maria, Jim managed, by most devoted attention and reverential listening, to draw from her a zealous analysis of the morning sermon which she gave ! I AUNT MARIA CLEARS HER CONSCIENCE. 105 nces nar- he move- v^n hands inty that thin the 1 spite of > claimed 1 a sense ;h all the ht other- g8 which a source 5 faculty iety and s periods nities of imate in so very ie knew egarded >f study, percep- persons art only that he i critical r to boil ve face, liteness escriba- 3 to get lere are ower of allies of sent air ;ed, by w from le gave \u with the more heat and vigour, hoping thereby to reprove the stiwr sheep who had thus broken boundaries. Her views of the danger of modern speculation, and her hearty measures for its repression, were given with an earnest- ness that was from the heart. " I can't understand what anybody wants to have these con- troversies for, and listen to these infidel philosophers. I never doubt. T never have doubted. I don't think I have altered an iota of my religious faith since I was seven years old : and If I had the control of things. I'd put a stop to all this sort of IUS8« "Youthen would side with his Holiness, the Pope," said Jim. " That s precisely the ground of his last allocution," "No, indeed, I shouldn't. I think Popery is worse yet— it's terrible ! Dr. Gushing showed that this morning, and it's the greatest danger of our day ; and I think that Mr. St. John of yours 18 nothing more than a decoy duck to lead you all to Rome. I went up there once and saw 'em genuflecting, and turning to the east, and burning candles, and that's all I want to know about them." " But the east is a perfectly harmless point of the compass," said Jim, with suavity ; « and though I don't want candles in the daytime myself, yet I don't see what harm it does anybody to burn them." "^ ^ "Why, that's just what the Catholics do," said Mrs. Wou- vermans. "Oh, that's it, is it!" said Jim, with a submissive air. Mustn't we do any thing that Catholics do 1 " "No^ indeed," said Aunt Maria, falling into the open trap with affecting naivete. *^ " Then we mustn't pray at all," said Jim. " Oh, pshaw ! of course I didn't mean that. You know what 1 mean." " Certainly ma'am I think I understand," said Jim, while Alice, who had been looking reprovingly at him, led off the subject I'-to another strain. But luo. Wouvermans was more gracious to Jim that even- ing than usual, ant. when she rose to go home that young gentleman offered his atten.lance, and was accepted with com- placency. 106 WE AND OUR NEIQHBOUfiS. out in JZT^ .f * ^^ ^ ^y* ^^«n any little matter fell ca"l ed ft prTiLri'^rr^ *^ T^' V scheme: Ihe the w^ T-^"* 1' ^'?.f "^''^ ^"«"i*« adroitness trpepa^ the way. Jim, the while, who saw perfectly what she wl^ aiming at, assisting her in the most obliging manner ^ After p^smg through sundry truisms about the necessity of caution and regarding appearances, and thinking XSnlf wiU say to this and that,^Bhe proc^ded to infom him that the report was m circulation that he was engagedTAli^ ' " The report does me entirely too muc^ honour" said Tim 2f ofcou.se if Miss Alice U disposedTd'eny^lf /I'S MrrS^deSlf''«fr\^^^^^^ «^d Aunt «1„ "®J^"^«v- " I merely mentioned it to vou that von may see the need of caution. You know, of cou^e, Mr. Fel lows, that such reports stand in the way of others who miX be disposed-well, you understand." ^ ^^ "^'^^^ nrnfi? ' fl^^^'^^J' ®''**'*^y' ^"^** «0'" said Jim, who could be to vouZ ?i1 P^'""' 'r "^^^r ' " *«d 1'°^ extWmely Xed IndTnowlSl^n^r''^^ ' "?^«"!>^% yo«r great e^^erieTce wt l^d^feVu'^^^ ^» «^- y-^e exact tone^nhri/rn'"^ ^r- ^^'^^^"^ans. in a confidential desSable who i« .PT^ * person every way admirable and ST '?' r'^ '5«Sestio„ of ,ioh » «^ort in .^""to 1 1 AUNT MAKIA CLEARS HER CONSCIENCE. 107 ^ " I felt sure that you wouldn't be offended with me for sneak ing so very plamly. I hope you'll keep it entirely S.'' "Oh certainly/' said Jim, with the most cheerful goodwill. When ladies with your tact and skiU in human nature talk to us young feUows you rmer give offence. We tokryour frankness as a favour." "c lukb your Mrs. Wouvermans smiled with honest pride. Had she not wrrn^tf h'^T* 'f^""^ '•' '^' y^"^^ «*« soiling tSa Slf o/pv. ""^ ^«« V.TOsive tendency ? How little could SheLnv^u'-''7"V^ ^^T' »PP»"e"ate her masterly skill ! She reaUy felt m her heart disposed to regret that so docile a pupU one so appreciative of her superior abiliti^, was not a shTS^Aw*'r""?ir'*- ^^^ Ji°» ^««« * yoSh ^fortune she felt that she could have held up both hands for him. dooruprL"'^"'^^'' ^*^ '^^ *^^"«*^^' ^'^^ «»^"tthe . n)H WR AND OTTR NETOHBOITRS. CHAPTER XII. WHY can't they let US ALONE 1 TY ARRY went out to his office, and Eva commenced the 11 morning labours of a young housekeeper. What are they t Something in their way as airy and pleasant as the light touches and arrangements which Eve gave to her bower in Pai-adise— gathering up stray rose-leaves, tying up a lily that the rain has bent, looping a honeysuckle in a more • graceful festoon, and meditating the while whether she shall have oranges and figs and grapes, or guavas and pineapples, for her first course at dinner. Such, according to Father Milton, were the ornamental duties of the first wife, while her husband went out to his olhce m some distant part of Eden. But Eden still exists whenever two voung lovers set up housekeeping, even in prosaic New York ; only our modern Jiives wear jaunty little morning caps and fascinating wrappers and slippers, with coquettish butterfly bows. Eva's morning duties consisted in asking Mary what 'they had better have for dinner, gmnghere and there a peep into the pantry, re-arrang- mg the flower vases, and flecking the dust from her pictures and statuettes with a gay and glancing brush of peacock's leathers, bometimes the morning arrangements included quite a change ; aa, this particular day, when, on mature consideration, a spray of ivy that was stretching towards the window had been drawn back and forced to wreathe itself around a picture and a spray of nasturtium, gemmed with half-opened golden buds, had been trained in its place in the window. One may think this a very simple matter, but whoever knows all the resistance which the forces of matter and the laws of gravitation make to the simplest improvement in one's parlour, will know better. It required a scaffolding made of a chair and an ottoman to reach the top of the pictures, and a tack-hammer and Uttle M WHY CAN*T THEY LET US ALONE? 109 tacks. Then the precise air of arrangement and exact position had to be studied from below, after the tacks were driven, and that necessitated two or three descents from the perch to re- view, and the tumbling of the ottoman to the floor, and the calling of Mary in to help, and to hold the ottoman firm while the persevering little artist finished her work. It is by upsand downs like these, by daily labour of modern Eves, each in their little paradises, ye Adams ! that your houses have that "just right" look that makes you think of them all day, and long to come back to them at night. " Somehow or other," you say,** I don't know how it is, my wife's things have a certain air ; her vines grow just in the right places, and her parlours always look pleasant." You don't know how many periods of grave consideration, how many climbings on chairs and ottomans, how many doings and undoings and shiftings and changes produce the appearance that charms you. Most people think that flower vases are very simple affairs ; bvt the keeping of parlours dressed with flowers is daily work for an hour or two for any woman. Nor is it work in vain. No altar is holier than the home altar, and the flowers that adorn it are sacred. Eva was sitting, a little tired with her strenuous exertions, contemplating her finished arrangement with satisfaction, when the door-bell rang, and Alice came in. " Why, Allie, dear, how nice of you to be down here so early ! I was just wanting somebody to show my changes to. Look there. See how I've looped that ivy round mother's picture; isn't it sweet ? " and Eva caressingly arranged a leaf or two to suit her. "Charming!" said Alice, but with rather an abstracted, preoccupied tone. *' And look at this nasturtium ; it's full of buds. See, the yellow is beginning to show. I've fastened it in a wreath around the window, so that the sun will shine through the blossoms." "It's beautiful," said Alice, still absently and nervously playing with her bonnet strings. " Why, darling, what's the matter?" said Eva, suddenly noticing signs of some unusual feeling. " What ails you ? " " Well," said Alice, hastily untying her bonnet strings and liO WE AUJ) OUR NEIGHBOURS. Mar^ J fi!^ ' '^''"u^ '^r"" ""'^^ ^^*»*ion. " that Aunt « S?^T "t' •*"''' "''■'' ■"" "he done now » " ho«,etolI^t±/"" '""'".• ?'""' S>>"'i»y *e came to our nouse to tea, drawn up in martia array and readv to «tt«/.k .,. M for not going to the old church-that Sid deld oM church, where people do nothing but doze 3 wie un o C 'IVn't Vr't lt°?r.V"' ^••"* '««ll/wouw1hinE to ndiculous to have one defend it as she did Yo,, nn^iff ^? aprit',:^" "1 » '''^ fXwb' ^ing^'Mr »d'r KSL tSf?!,^" fu? "^t'"'" "f oontradictions i^ ™v:;ro,t'u«lr«»-»- --i -er style of ar^r-neTi' what^UL"'"'^"'',!' !"-. °?' y»" ""y "» »»« I *dn't care for « w*li' *^®°' T*^*' *" **^® matter 1 " ♦„♦ T- ' ^/^^'^^ believe me, she has actually undertakpn i^ %iZ^^^''' i" 'f^^^on to his intimacv v^tl me " ^ o«^ • 'i f V S^^^^ed Eva, « has she done , , f , J beff^e^l and implored her to let tiiat matter alone." ^ ^ -Hit »id— but people are always saving thin.. .,.4 if.T" ■ -V^. thing they wiU another.- f tri^to'p^riielX 4 WHY can't they let TTS ALONE? Ill to let it alone, but .^he Beemed to think you must be talked with ; BO I finally told her that if she'd Imvp it to me I would say all that was necessary. I did mean to say something, but I didn't want to trouble you. I thought there was no huny." " Well, you see," said Alice, " Jim went home w' h her that night, and I suppose she thought the opportunity too good to be neglected. I don't know just what she said to him, but I know it was about me." " How do you know 1 Did Jim tell you 1 " " No, indeed ; catch him telling me ! He knows too much for that. Aunt Maria let it out herself." "Let it out herself?" " Yes ; she blundered into it before she knew what she was saying, and betrayed herself; and then, whei I questioned her, she had to tell me." " How came she to commit herself so 1 " " It was just this. You know the httle party vunt Maria had Tuesday evening — the one you couldn't con* ■« to on ac- count of that Stephens engagement." " Yes ; what of it 1" " I really suspect that was all got up in the interes of one of Aunt Maria's schemes to bring me and that John Davenport together. At any rate, there he was, and his sister ; and really, Eva, his treatment of me was so marked that it was < iiite dis- agreeable. Why, the man seemed really infatuated. His manner was so that everybody remarked it ; and th» colder and more distant I grew, the more it increased. Aun Mana was delighted. She plumed herself and rushed rount in the most satisfied way, while I was only provoked. I saw le was going to ask to wait on me home, and so I fell back on a ^^tand- ing engagement that I have with Jim, to go with me when- ever anybody asks that I don't want to go with. Jim md I have always had that understanding in dancing and at pj.rties, so that we can keep clear of disagreeable partners and people. I was determined I wouldn't walk home with that man, and I told Jim privately that he was to be on duty, and he took the hint in a minute. So when Mr. Davenport wound up his at- tections by asking if he should have the pleatiure of seeiu}, me home, I told him with great satisfaction that I was engaged , 112 We and our neighbours. " And so really you don't like this Mr. Davenport ? " _^ Poor man ! " said Eva " I suppose' he is lonesome." he can Mv m'KT' "^ Imng says, the greatest compliment " Aile'r all fh^ t r™" *"■" ^'"'^ disagreeable to me." obSf 'remlfrHi'J'' I ^^^ '"^^ way-making me an myXn^mld." ^ ""^ * '*'"''*''' ^"""^ »'»"«". »* know "K'' ni,''''* T,"» ''*■■" *''?'" ^'"" Maria and Jim » " . •.!.., *' ''*"' *"* "ext day comes Aunt Maria tn talk golf ffstt: r f f^' '^ ^ bye ; plp^l^Lfs^t next d«v Li^ ^ *^° '**y'1S at home with him. But the next day came an exaggerated picture of my triumohs to Mamma and a lecture to me on my bad behaviour. The worst of all she said was the very marked thing of my goine homP with Jim; and in her heat she let out thit she haf sSnT «t:rf ''" '' "'n^^'« ^^"^^ ttrk^nSty'ts^uc'h' f^??v?n A . L"^ •' ^T^ *^^"' ^»d I expressed my mind treely to Aunt Maria, and we had a downright Quarrel T ««^S snSdr^^*"'.^*ry',J"«* ^«°« alwfysdrsraidinow e~lT?^^' ' ^'">i '' ^^>^ ^ " «^id ^ice, with th^ StSr' ^?CbTn Alt^^^^^^^^^^^^^ S-.-to her thing ought to be thaTmy >rild;hir^t^^^^^^^^ WHY can't they let US ALONE? 113 ence over him and I can do him good, and I enjoy his society, and the kind of easy, frank understanding that there is between us, that we can say any thing to each other ; and what business is it of anybody's ? It's our own affair, and no one's else." " Certainly it is," said Eva, sympathizingly. " And Aunt Maria said that folks were saying that if we weren't engaged we ought to be. What a hateful thing to say ! As if there were any impropriety in a friendship between a gentleman and a lady. Why may not a gentleman and a lady have a special friendship as well one lady with another, or one gentleman with another 1 I don't see." " Neither do I," said Eva, responsively. " Now," said Alice, " the suggestion of marriage and all that is disagreeable to me. I'm thinking of nothing of the kind. I like Jim. Well, I don't mind saying to you, Eva, who can un- derstand me, that I love him, in a sort of way. I am interested for him. I know his good points and I know his faults, and I'm at liberty to speak to him with perfect freedom, and I think there is nothing bo good for a youug man as such a friendship. We girls, you know, dear, can do a great deal for young men if we try. We are not tempted as they are ; we have not their hard places and trials to walk through, and we can make allowances, and they will receive things from us that they wouldn't from any one else, and they show us just the best side of their nature." " Certainly, Alice. Harry was saying only a little while ago that your influence would make a man of Jim ; and I certainly think he has wonderfully improved of late — he seems more serious." " We've learned to know him better ; that's all," said Alice. " Young men rattle and talk idly to girls when they don't feel acquainted and haven't real confidence in their friendship, just as a sort of blind. They don't dare to express their real, deep- est feelings." "Well, I didn't know that Jim had any," said Eva, in- cautiously. " Why, Eva, how unjust you are to Jim ! " said Alice, with flushing cheeks. " I shouldn't have thought it of you ; so many kind things as Jim has done for us all ! " " My darling, I beg Jim's pardon with all my heart," said 114 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. wild wMIing way ofZkwld'i?™^^"''' AK™' ^«"t of ■s (nght and trae. He hS tk! . »nd aspirations after what f?rt of spoiled Xld VZlsL F^'"^ "f •""""g h^™ a him on Ind encouLeSin ?•'*",'; '»»8'' '!>"*% set ought not. PeopK™ vL Utt7»lf' T"^ "^ *'"°^ ">» that anyone amuaea th.™ 7i7 Pnnciple about that So right to talkTwoes 'thetVr"i- °™''" '"'^""" ''^^^ tr him. and Cffw"^::s5;:iahJ^t^^,ri:sf;^^^^^ ««t»«V»;'of^°..'»y yo" -J" ««« more of Jim's real whin I LS-ttlp t^hbg aurir *" "rfP"" "> "• Even sometimes they are so*dS§ I ZTtX. 'J?«'",?<'' *" '"y-""-' •»y say and teU him reaUv Md ?nL,i P"r*?*™"^» I h«ve you've no idea how bSuT^ b. f iT ^5?' '''"'* ' ^ink, and good at heart, thei^'s no dS luf thaf" "''' •"■" """^ " betwt'^rl'J^'' ^■"" Maria-s'TidX will make t™„Me if he doesn't now, just what Annf tu — ^®* ?**" understand, mind anything she slys l ft 1??^ "S '^^ *H^ ^« '""^t"'* my mind to you, and per£ 1 'n \''*''' '^^'^ ^ ^« '^li^^^ Aunt Maria." pernaps shall have more charity for ^-i^ptf;^^^^^^ Z^ her love for us that and fussing and lyinrawake Sf ®^ ^'^^^ ^^Ip planning getting a splendid ma^agrfor,^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^M m spider, up and at her wfb Z.T' ^"^"^ "^^^ "^« truce's It's in he? to be active ;The hfs no^tu"^ " t'^'^ ^-^ you. half satisfy h^r «« ^ «"''' r' children ; her house don'f. . a «... o. encerpri«e, and she, of course7is' WHY can't they let US ALONE? 115 taking care of Mamma and our famUy. If Mamma had not been just the gentle, lovely, yielding woman she is, Aunt Maria never would have got such headway in the family and taken such airs about us." ^ " She perfectly tyrannizes over Mamma," said Alice « She's always coming up to lecture her for not doing this, that, or the other thing Now all this talk about our going to Mr St John 8 church ;— poor, dear, little Mamma is as willing ti let us do as we please as the flowers are to blossom, and then Aunt Maria talks as if she were abetting a conspiracy against the church. I know that we are all living more serious, earnest ives for Mr. St. John's mfluence. It may be that he is going too farm certain directions ; it may be that in the long run such things tend to dangerous extremes, but I don't see any real harm m them so far, and I find real good " " Well, you know, dear, that Harry isn't of our church—he is a Congregationahst— but his theory is that Christian people should join with any other Christian people who they see are really working m earnest to do good. This church is near by us where we can conveniently go, and as I have my house to attend to and am not strong you know, that is quite a con- sideration. I know Harry don't agree with Mr. St. John at all about his ideas of the church, and he thinks he carries some of his ceremonies too far; but, on the whole, he reallv 18 doing a great deal of practical good, and Harry is willing to ?et iSTrality.'- " •'"'* ^""'^^ ^° ^""^ *" ^" ^^- ^^ ''' , "I wish," said Alice, " that Mr. St. John were a little freer in his way. There is a sori; of solemnity about him that is depressing, and it seems to set Jim ofi" in a spirit of contradic- tion. He says Mr. St. John stirs up the evil within him, and majes hun long to break over bounds and say something wicked, just to shock him. ' ' " I've had that desire to shock very proper people in the from " ""^ ^ ' "^^^ ^''*' " ^ don't know what it comes ''I think "said Alice, " that, to be sure, this is an irrever- ent age, and New York is an irreverent place : but yet I think ' ," mf-'' ''" J^ ''"^ uULside air of reverence too far. Don't you ? Ihey impose a sort of constraint on everybody around 116 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. henever aotsuS out Ste him '"'"'' "*'"« »'""'* J™' .ho„Pd''^^^rs"orf„?s ;.5r^."'"" •'^ -^o "^^ if he saidllfcZ^/jg' 2ysT.r»T'*£PT'*'»» Mr. St. John," n.^n, that iete?Crho„''est"*o;k''':„5V^ Ij""*; "o enough around among the mor of New Vortli" has. been newspaper writer, to know whin »n^,T7 * '"J^ «"»'"y «f If Mr. St. John oily cou?d 1™!^ f „T" j'?' 8™'' ™»"S "'«'»■ naj^ee he mir/or^^rTarf'rTii*^^ time'w^L^ td^Evatuh :S P^*' P**" ^or some projecting seh^meTto d™w Mr sHohninri ^"^ ""^ ', ^» ciety. That's one of tl!. tiT; ■'""'"''to more general so- our^eveningl- T don't b^Uev?hT\'^ ^oing to t^ to do in society at alf; he ouX t^hZ ?k ''fl.'T.V'' !""> general an.: feels and^hfnKorTin I'nL^S "'"« <'»y-l>e talks stTn^n":r„i™-S?n "^ ?«»-i:i into their Iif4 rZldtito Id"'*'''^' "'"' ™'^"''« " «'«« I suppose he'd be afraid of any indulgence i " hard^:t"nrEr '"I'ti"" »'>"'^»-. •-"'good indulgence." ' * *°"''' "«™'' ""'"h Wm witfi an ;' W hen are you going to begin ? " I shKe^Srsdi^fo'Js tr I'W.' '-r "•"■>" and the girls to heln me to kJ.n fi. ,i.: ff ' '^^P""' ™ y»» on just „V Ji« t Zerat^T„dt"f ?' "'"' S^J-S out too steonir and ov/rvh.^;^, J i' ■""•.kept from coming time, ,0 tCfi^U :Z7^^T±^ "S.*" '"" * ^""^ get them to coming every week soXt'.i. ^""..f ^,^« "'ant to another by-and-by 3^Jt .'J!^ 71""'^ f" "" """"^ ""e rooms ; ,ih , thfng'^l.ofstMeT thlk'"™ '"""« *■»•" «« no&r'S^°a?:ihS?h:^-^ •"''""' "--'- "'='*<'». I ouB "evening" phojeoted. 117 CHAPTER XIII. OUR "EVENING" PROJECTED. " Wl^^I^' ^*"y'" ^»'^ ^va, when they were seafed at y V dinner, " Ahce was up at lunch with me this morn- ing m such a state ! It seems, after all, Aunt Maria could not contam her zeal for management, and has been having an ad- monitory talk with Jim Fellows about his intimacy with Alice." Now I declare that goes beyond me," said Harry, laying down his knife and fork. " That woman's impertinence is really stupendous. It amounts to the sublime." "Doesn't it ? Alice was in such a state about it ; but we talked the matter down into calmness. Still, Harry I'm pretty certain that Alice is more seriously interested in Jim than she knows of. Of course she thinks it's all friendship, but she IS too sensitive about him, and if you make even the shadow of a criticism she flames up and defends him. You ought to see." " Grave symptoms," said Harry. " But a^ she says she is not thinking nor wanting to think of T "u"^.™?'® l^*" ^ ?^^^^^^ ^^^^^ young lady was, with whom 1 cultivated a friendship some time ago," said Harry, laughing. Just so," said Eva ; ;; I plume myself on my forbelrance in hstenmg gravely to Alice and not putting in any remarks • but I remembered old times and had my suspicions. fTe thought It was friendship, didn't we, Harry? And I used to T thTnrr^- angry if anybody suggested anything else. Now L t^ ni^^'\' friendship for Jim is getting to be of the same f. w Vr , ]?"r? ^'"^ '^ ^®" • ^°^ «he understands him so perfectly ! and she has so much influence over him ! and thev have such perfect comprehension of each other ! and as to his taults, oh, she understands all about them ! But. mind vou "i -< --"i-i'v "^*" 0"«' nerBcii-— ttiHi, 5 quite evident. 1 did make a blundering remark or so; but I found it wasn't 118 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. WelJ, poor ffir] i t u^^ "Oh, I wa» 8fmpatheUr»ff 'T^^ «° o""""'' her." poured out her Irirff Sf Lit |i.^*8''»5*'»'>'' »fter she had on aMaging our affaire. » *^ " ''°°'»"' ""o '» «nly monomaniac >^mmuktt ^'. tef ™i|,r »f r^-i^ ueed to be the pvenesa of friends I "aU Jhf """^ " "^ ^^^ <» be for oan.Iw,fo^^^^.^^^^^tte man a perfect ChriBtian that «n.errrltUtr^?trf J°^f "''d " ^»' ^-ily J">d vouchsafed her S m^?' ^ ^ '^° '*"»• " ftovidrace "Pnnkltag of girls, shfwoSdTvr.SP"'*' 'ring boys andt we shod! have had bett« W° '*"' * 'P'»<«d "o-u^n and »Hok thTw':j|tS't^;>'-^5 of «.e persistent broom- be dromied out by her." ■ «"^ Harry; "we are likeiy" ChristiL';:ceT„r^i'^v^*«l!;r.'S' *» "«^'' -P our ]?« "T" o» projected eveS with VllL''" T ^ "»» t»!k. »>me iscuMing that. " ^^ ™"' ■*'■'»' ^nd "e spent some «-»&tnryftot!!'«'-'"-MHar^. ...WeUbe- S»*-ugaboitiJ^th^'''^iS8 ""'■•'"'at day is best, and •lay, there's the washin^T™ bT^' "" '?"' •>»"« *' on Mon nesd^comebakingS'iCn^""' ""* ^«<'»y and w:?- " W'u' t& T?"' '"''?«''« Thursday J" One wouldn't waS? it „VKv "^^ *^ " "" ""« ^ghTSl^ •oo .late ; besides, J& St J^f;^ " taow, and Saturday is evenmgs." ' "' ^'^ John never goes out Satura«y <" Oh' I'"'*'' f". oy^^'ion to Friday ) " ry^kt^S^^ytlun.'^^rir'-^'^of beginning I susoect, fasts evew^rfda? H. ™' ^?^'' ^- St John but t£ey say he doS ; at lev^tsTrn's^^r '»',f «»»«e^ —IS, 1 m suTo he wouldn't come *fc> I assure e her.'* er she had t in a sooth- lonomaniac d to be the _e to be for- istian that eat family ^rovidence oys, and a Oman and nt broom- likely to 5n up our i^SLB talk- ent some WeUbe- )e8t, and on ftlon- d Wed- agreed fht day. irday is )>turday Jinnmg « John, course, t come OUR "EVKNINO" PROJECTED, 119 of a Fridav evening, and I want to be sure and have him, of all people. Now, you see, I've planned it all beautifully. I'm going to have a nice, pretty little tea-table in one corner with a vase of flowers on it, and I shall sit and make tea. That breaks the stiffness, you know. People talk first about the tea and the chma, and whether they take cream and sugar, a ad so on, and the gentlemen help the ladies. Then Mary will make those delicate little biscuits of hers and her charming sponge cake. It s going to be perfectly quiet, you see-from half-past seven till eleven— early hours and simple fare, 'feast of reason and flow of soul.'" " Quite paatoral and Arcadian," said Harry. " When we get It going it wUl be the ideal of social life. &o fuss, no noise ; all the quiet of home life with all the variety of company : see- ing each other tUl they get really intimate and have a genuine interest in meeting each other ; not a mere outside, wild beast show, as It IS when people go to parties to gaae at other people and see how they look in war-paint." " I feel a little nervous at first," said E va j « getting people together tnat are so diametrically opposed to each other as Dr. Campbell and Mr. St John, for instance. I'm afraid Dr TK: S'" a'^'^T ^""^ "^^^ ^°"^® ^^ ^is terribly free speaking! and then Mr. St. John will be so shocked and distressed." Ihen Mr. St. John must get over being shocked and dis- tressed. Mr St. John needs Dr. Campbell," said Harry n«2f M^^'crl^,*^^ ™nn*? ^^ ^"8^<^ *° ™««^ ^nd Dr. Campbell needs Mr. St. John. The two men are intended to help each inti 't^"^ *^^ ^^^^^ ^*"*^' *"^ *^®^ ought to be *| But you see. Dr. Campbell is such a dreadful unbeliever I " r u %P^^^^^^ way he is no more an unbeliever than Mr. St. John. Dr. Campbell is utterly ignorant of the higher facts of moral consciousness— of prayer and communion with God -and therefore he doesn't believe in them. St. John is equally Ignorant of some of the most important facts of the body he inhabits. He does not believe in them— ignores them." Oh, but now, Harry, I didn't think that of you— that you could put the truths of the body on a level with the truths of tne soul. "Bless you, darling, since the Maker has been pleased to make 120 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. the soul SO dependent on the body, how can I heb it? Whv JUS see here; come to this vei/' problem of saviiVaS' which « a nunister's work. I insist there are cLes whew Dr ^St'V'° ^" "^r *"^^^^« i^ *^*« Mr. St. ^hn. H?w^ quotmg to me only yesterday a passage from Dr Wil^ where lie says, ' I firmly believe I have more than once chaS ^emor^l character of aboy by leeches appliedTo ZinsK? 2v}^- ,-^*"^' *^*<^ sounds almost shocking." l^et itL a fact— a physiological fact— that soni« nf fJ,« ^Z^T^r^Ttl^eZ!^ ^ t^'h' body! anVcrbel^ed laws of our bodies; and a doctor who understands ?hem^-n do more than a minister who doesn't m7 f„«f vllT ^^ hfe\". ^\^ 'T'^'' ^^^^ ^« "-^«' Ait blL\^^^^ hfe, that makes him afraid to marry, is a disease nf fhTl^A Fasting, prayer, sacraments, couldn/keroff aTLul L^^^^^^^ dipsomania ; but a doctor might " *'^^ *^^ Mr' ?^T?^'^' ^"^ •y°'' '^^"^ '^ ^ ^«"' I °^«8t say I do think ^. St. John IS as Ignorant as a child about such matters fT may judge from the way he goes on about his own hea th' wf ^ZZ'^l^^i:^'^^^ ^^^"^ determrerto'w k as"^ '^Whi^h Tt • T^^ ^'"^^.^'^ P^^y^^ *"lpit? Why, ftving a soul, 368 where Dr. hn. He was Dr. Wigan, once changed the inside of jome of the can be cured this mortal 8 and by the ds them will look at poor at blasts his )f the body, ute attack of T I do think matters, if I health. He ) work as if [any. " It lows is per- should de- work. He f rules, and wnon-sense 8, 1 should n men and erty, teach thing else, ybut him- le'U make oubtful of OUK " EVENING " PKOJEOTED. 181 I don't think he whether you really go with him or not. knows how much you like him." " Go with him ! of course I do I stand nn f^». e* t l and defend him. So long as a man is gSg h^ whol' li^fto candles, if he wants to, for all I care H« Jlw . ^ good, manly, honest talks to peoole abouf wu7? ' 5^^' the common.se»« of life. I Ink he i, L,,?w." f"^,' '"i""™ of the first things he has got to lem, 13 to ^ li *l''j"" hearing things sSd from otT,erpJ;ie"pl™t.fvit*"i?r? " two men could onlv like cswh n¥h^^ pwiuis oi view, it these a«d dispassionaSj to wh^t e«h h'as^rsav tt" *'"'T"'^-' everything to each other." ™^' *'"J' "'g"" >>« ooiZt»*^iS^:r»"'"'^'"" *^ ""*<' "-^^ two opposing and I know, as well as I know a^^hi^ thtufl£.TTi! ' X'^efflo^i' !;;s4ti^n^^S' ''-^^^^^ oome here any mOT?" "■' ""^ '"™«"' »■"' not n.4'' Orod^^ior^'"!, '"^J '""' *"" e"'"".'"- »■"' "«- God's^tn.t.h-ai?^ru4,f>T .'/ "»" "*"> "^nk' he has going into- «tsr I^\ra-^STho"rnof rX'^'ltS •> •^ 122 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. wants to stay inside of a clean, nice fort, making nretfv «f^.ir. of bayonets .nd piling cannon'balls in lovS? SeTLL^^^^^^^ tHnt w' ^^hl ^"^^Mr. St. John isn't like that fdon't thmk hes cowardly or unmanly, but he is very reverent and Harry, you are very free. You do let Dr. CampbelUo on so over everything. It quite shocks me." '^"™P*'^" «» ^n so, " Just because my faith is so strong that I can afford it T can see when he is mistaken ; but he is a genuLe, active bene volent man Mowing truth when he sels it, Id SinTa good deal of It, and most important truth, too We4 lot to get truth as we can n this world, just a^ miner. dLgofd out of the n,^e with all the quartz, aid dirt, and drSsfbut i you now let's do. I'll interest Dr. Campben m ivir «r John's health I'll ask him to study him anTsee if he ia^i take care pf him I'm sure he needs Uking care of ' And said Harry, " why not interest Mr. St John in Dp tC^^'o^'^LyT^^ ^"^"'^ ^^^ ''y '^ con:;eSrfi^^ otwnrctYdTuii^:. t^^^^^^^ a;"d".r;^^stThrt'^ gether, what a splen Jid man we coVd make of them • '' Iry your best, my dear ; but meanwhile I have three or four hours' writing to do this evening." " Well, then, settle yourself down, and I will run over and expound my plans to the good old ladies over the way I am getting up quite an intimacy over there ; Miss Dorcas is reX ^tiy entertaining. It's like living in a past age to Lr her t]i«7r^ really have established a fashion of rushing in upon them at all sorts of hours," said Harry. ^ " Yes, but they like it. You have no idea what nice things they say to me. Even old Dinah quivers a^d giX ^^t^^ dehght the minute she sees me_poor old souf»*^You see he/re shut up all alone in that musty old house, lie en! charted princesses, and gone to sleep there ; and I am the pre- destined fairy to wak them up ! " ^ Eva said this as she was winding a cloud of fleecy worsted :^ OUR " FVENINO " PROJECTED. 123 pretty stacks I triangles." iat. I don't Jverent, and, »ell go on so, aiford it. I active, bene- id getting a l^eVe got to iig gold out ross ; but it it to dispose Eva. "I'll 1 in Mr. St. if he can't ? If Fohn in Dr. rt him from convert the t. John to- a!" ve three or n over and y&y. I am as is really o hear her ig in upon nice things Jgles with You see e, like en- m the pre- jy worsted around her head, and Harry was settling himself at his writing- table in a little alcove curtained off from the parlour. " Don't keep the old ladies up too late," said Harry. " Never you fear," said Eva. " Perhaps I shall stay to see Jack's feet washed and blanket spread. Those are solemn and impressive ceremonies that I have heard described, but never witnessed." It was a briglit, keen, frosty, starlight evening, and when Eva had rung the door-bell on the opposite side, she turned and looked at the play of shadow and fire-light on her own window- curtains. Suddenly she noticed a dark form of a woman coming from an alley back of the house, and standing irresolute, looking at the windows. Then she drew near the house, and seemed trying to read the name on the door-plate. There was something that piqued Eva's curiosity about these movements, and just as the door was opening behind her into the Vanderheyden house, the strange woman turned away, and, as she turned, the light of the street-lamp flashed strongly on her face. Its expression of haggard pain and misery was some- thmg that struck to Eva's heart, though it was but a momen- tary glimpse, as she turned to go into the house ; for, after all, the woman was nothing to her, and the glimpse of her face was purely an accident, such as occurs to one hundreds of times ii? the streets of a city. Still, like the sound of a sob or a cry from one unknown, the misery of those dark eyes struck painfully to Eva's heart , as if to ff, young, beloved, gay and happy, some of the ever present but hidden anguish of life— the great invisible mass of sorrow — had made an appeal. But she went in and shut the door, gave one sigh and dis- ull8S6Cl lt/« WE AND r)tiR NEIOHBOURS. CHAPTtlK XIV. MR. ST. .lOHN IS OUT-AROUED. A WOMAN has two vernal seasons in her life On« i- *u spring of younf maWS beforl 1^"'^ ^^t^ "^^^'^ '' ^^e strains of real ?if?coSnce ' '"'''' ^"^""''^ ""^ ««^«'« which elders smiTe rdStlv «o^f*?.; ^8"°'^"* ^"dom, at her little matronly m"ef W i;;.^^^^ *^' new-made wife with her new world of p^Vr ^ ^ '""'^ ^^ responsibUity in attentiS: Tn'^d dSi 'V;"".l ^'^ ^^'''^^ ^« ^^^ ^^jectof the leading starThrown' t fat' "tt^ ''^ ^^^^' s^i^ghr^terer^^^^^^^^^^ aw": iSsor: diviiuaifty tw'i^thilirfTnrb^tUVri 'rr ^^^ ^"■ and minister of a family aisle Th.h **"** ^® »» ^^^ pnestess and to her home Da«^sV« I; il ?^ ^'^''^^^^^ ^^^ centre, her person. The Drid« ItlS *^*i *^"'*^ ^^ *^^«^ around a pn*deTn her home Her hl™^^.^^' ^"^ ^^ ^^^^ b««««»es herself; it is herXonf LJ '■ ^^^ "^"^ i»npersonation of theyouigwtfe more sensitive "^T' /"^ "^*^" ^« ^« «^« than the adorniTnT of her pem^^^^^^^ "f ^^"^ *^^"«« and deny in the last tharb Jv. ' "l" ^ ^'^^'^ *« retrench and attrkct?ve ! A pretty setn^^'^^^^J'^r" °^°^« cheerful farther with her ttnTg^TobelofherseJ? HV^"?f'^^ ^^ ribbons and laces for moono V""*^ j^^^ nerselt. She will sacrifice The freshness of a new life invp.t,»v."l^?r^f,, . ,, am„ged „^.. Her china/her brouzif to ^L"'^ MR. 8T, JOHN IS OUT-ARGUED. 125 One is the girlhood — ther is the and severe se-keeping, ing girl 18 her inex- ivisdom, at ) wife with nsibility in e object of of ail eyes, with mar- into some- jer her in- 3 priestess ler centre, vn around f becomes )nation of do we see her house retrench } cheerful able goes I sacrifice 3es which e freslily ires, her silver, her table cloths and napkins, her closets and pantries, all speak to her of a new sense of possession — a new and diflFerent hold on life. Once she was only a girl, moving among things that belonged to mamma and papa ; now she is a matron, surrounded everywhere by things that are her own — a princess in her own little kingdom. Nor is the charm lessened that she no longer uses the possessive singular, but says ovr. And behind those pronouns, toe and nur, what pleasant security ! What innocent Pharisaism of self-complacency, as each congratulates the other on "our" ways, "our" plans, "our" arrangements; each, the while, sure that they two are the fortunate among man- kind, and all who are not blest as they are proper subjects for indulgent pity. "After all, my dear," says he, "what can you expect of poor Snooks ? — a bachelor, poor fellow. If he only had a wife like you, now," etc., etc. Or, " I can't really blame Cynthia with that husband of hers, Harry dear. If I were married to such a man, I should act like a little fiend. If she had only such a husband as you, now ! " This secret, respectable, mutual admiration society of married life, of how much courage and hope is it the parent ! For, do not our failures and mistakes often come from discouragement ? Does not every human being need a believing second self, whose support and approbation shall reinforce one's failing courage 1 The saddest hours of life are when we doubt our- selvea To sensitive, excitable people, who expend nervous energy freely, must come many such low tides. " Am I really a miserable failure — a poor, good-for-nothing, abortive at- tempt 1 '* In such crises we need another self to restore our equilibrium. Our young friends were just in the second spring of life's new year. They were as fond and proud of their little house as a prince of his palace — possibly a good deal more so. They were proud of each other. Eva felt sure that Harry was destined to the high places of the literary world. She read his editorials with sincere admiration, lud his poems away in her heart, and pasted them carefully in her scrap-book. Fame and success she felt sure ought to come to him, and would. He was " such a faithful, noble-hearted fellow, and Worked 80 steadily.'' And he, with what pride he spoke the words " my wife " ! With what exultation repressed under an 12() WE AND OUR NEIGHBOUBS. longed after, i« people long for a pleasant stimulant i!keall bnght, earnest young men, Harry wanted to "lend a h«nrt " WsTd't o/X'T"""™ "^Shter »d be" »dhld enUst MsUK ^ Iteme^annr'ttft^TS before him m that charming fireside hour, when Zritslik» hZTLT" *" "**"' "'^^o™ of i-flueu^After dinner t^rieldltoKT"".*', *•■* printing-office, and left E™ Hff LT®"-' 1^^* ®^ *^®^"'" pursued Eva, « we are coine to harp ill trfnlT"'""' "* ^ ^""^^ every Thursdarfrom seven tm ten, for the purpose of prnmnf,-n« ««^^ r„„i:i^i ?« ,V®" »h.p, and we w«tlr .^ct«?to-beon\1,"f°u"s 'aTd 'tfel^u^a""""" MR. ST. JOHN IS OUT-ARGUED. 127 associate in her pretty to see the 7 grace, on ng woman, insight, of ;hing to be Like all d a hand '^ ', and had ht do as a rhood and tie social person to 3rself the Pering and stand the had com- ihe might > to set it irits, like 3r dinner left Eva Imirably. (ciety of 1 refined luences ; he lovod liched in 18 about •ifice — ^I ordium, to have a seven ''. fellow- s." Indeed, Mrs. Henderson, I have not the least wcial tact My sphere doesn't lie at aU in that direction," said Mr St John nervously " I have no taste for general society." ' Yes, but I think you told us last Sunday we were not to consult our tastes. You told us that if we felt a strong distaste for any particular course, it might possibly show that just here the true path of Christian heroism lay." *i,-'i^''" ^?"^ ^l T""^^ "P°" «^^' ^'•s- Henderson. I was thmkmg then of the distaste that people usually feel for visiting the poor, aiid making themselves practicaUy familiar with the unlovely side of life." "Well, but may it not apply the other way ? You are per. fectly familiar and at home among the poor, but you have al- ways avoided society among cultured persons of your own class. May not the real self-denial for you lie the?e ? You have a fastidious shrinking from strangers. May it not be your duty to overcome it ? There are a great many I know in our circle who might be the better for knowing you. Have you a nght to shrink back from them ? " ^ Mr. St. John moved uneasily in his chair "Now," pursued Eva, "there's a young Dr. Campbell that I want you to know. To be sure, he itn't a believer n the church--not a believer at all, I fear; but still a charming, benevolent, kindly, open-hearted man, and I want S to know you, and come under good influences." hesMngly.^'"'^' ^'"^ "' "" '^"P*^^'" «*^^ ^'' ^t. John, " Well, dear sir, what do you say to us wh.nwesaythe fTt! r iiT''^"! '"*'? ' ^°"'* y«" *«" "« t»»at if we honestly try we shall learn to adapt ourselves ? " ^ " That is true," said St. John, frankly. " Besides," said Eva," Mr. St. John, Dr. Campbell might do rX^'T f^F""' ^"f,"^' ^^ *^** y«" "« ^^ ^^reless ofyou? health. Indeed, we all feel great concern about it, and you might learn something of Dr. Campbell in this." ^ wifh wli i!* P"^?®*^ ^®'' ^vantage ^th that fluent abiUty It 7hp h/f ^ f ^^^^^ ^°"°^ ""^^^^^ ** ^^^ ^^'^ fi^«"*ie always gets the best of the argument. Mr «f .T«k« „**„.i..j i^ the weak side of conscientiousness, was obliged at last to admit that to spend an evening with agreeable, cultfvated, well-dresTed 128 ! I WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. people might be occasionally as much a shepherd's duty as to sit in the close, ill-smelling rooms of poverty and listen to the croonings and maunderings of the ill-educated, improvident, and foolish, who make so large a proportion of the less fortun- ate classes of society. It had been suggested to him that a highly-educated, agreeable young doctor, who talked materialism and dissented from the thirty-nine articles, might as properly be borne with as a drinking young mechanic who talked un- belief of a lower and less respectable order. Now it so happened, by one of those unexpected coinciden- ces that fall out in the eternal order of things, that Eva was reinforced in her course of argument by a silent and subtle in- fluence, of which she waa herself scarcely aware. The day seldom passed that one or other of her sisters did not form a part of her family circle, and on this day of all others the fates had willed that Angelique should come up to work on her Christnaas presents by Eva's fireside. Imagine, therefore, as the scene of this conversation, a fire- lighted room, the evening flicker of the blaze falling in flecks and flashes over books and pictures, and Mr. St. John in a dark sheltered corner, surveying without being surveyed, listening to Evas animated logic, and yet watching a very pretty tableau in the opposite comer. There sat Angelique, listening to the conversation, with the firelight falling in flashes on her golden hair and her lap full of worsteds— rosy, pink, blue, lilac, and yellow. Her little hands were busy in some fleecy wonder, designed to adorn the Christ- mas-tree for the mission school of his church ; and she knit and turned and twisted the rosy mystery with an air of grave interest, the while giving an attentive ear to the conversation. Mr. St. John was not aware that he was looking at her ; in fact, he supposed he was listening to Eva, who was eloquently settmg forth to him all the good points in Dr. Campbell's character, and the reasons why it was his duty to seek and cul- tivate his acquaintance ; but while she spoke and while he replied he saw the little hands moving, and a sort of fairy web weaving, and the face changing as, without speaking a word, she followed with bright, innocent sympathy the course of the conversation. MB. ST. JOHN IS OUT-ARGUED. 129 .'s duty as to listen to the improvident, i less fortun- > him that a i materialism ; as properly D talked un- i coinciden- hat Eva was id subtle in- . The day 1 not form a ers the fates ork on her ition, a fire- ing in flecks in in a dark listening to y tableau in m, with the r lap full of little hands the Christ- the knit and ir of grave iversation. ; at her ; in 3 eloquently Campbell's )ek and cul- d while he )f fairy web ng a word, jurse of th(j When Eva, with a becoming air of matronly gravity, lectured him for his reckless treatment of his own health, and his want of a proper guide on that subject, Angelique's eyes seemed to say the same ; and sometimes when Eva turned just the faintest light of satire on the ascetic notions to which he was prone, those same eyes sparkled with that frank gaiety that her dimpled face seemed made to express. Now the kitten catches at her thread, and she stops, and bends over and dangles the ball, and laughs softly to herself, and St. John from his dark corner watches the play. There is something of the kitten m her, he thinks. Even her gravest words have suggested the air of a kitten on good behaviour, and perhaps she may be a naughty, wicked kitten— who knows ? A kitten lying in wait to catch unwary birds and mice ! But she looked so artless— so innocent ! — her little head bent on one side like a flower and her eyes sparkling as if she were repressing a laugh !— a nervous idea shot through the conversation to Mr. St. John's heart. What if this girl should laugh at him ? St. Jerome himself might have been vulnerable to a poisoned arrow like this. What if he really were getting absurd notions and ways, in the owl-like recesses and retirements of his study— growing rusty, unfit for civilized life 1 Clearly it was his duty to « come forth into the light of things," and before he left that evening he gave his pledge to Eva that he would be one of the patrons of her new social enterprise. It is to be confessed that as he went home that night he felt that duty had never worn an aspect so agreeable. It was cer- tainly his place as a good fisher of men to study the habits of the cultured, refined, and influential portion of society, as well ^ of Its undeveloped children. Then, he didn't say it to him- self, but the scene where these investigations were to be pursued rose before him insensibly as one where Angelique was to be one of the entertainers. It would give him a better opportunity of studying the genus and habits of that variety of the church militant who train in the uniform of fashionable girls, and to decide the yet doubtful question whether they had any genuine capacity for church work. Angelique's evident success with her class was a nuzzle to him. and h* flinn»v>* h*" ^v^ri'i 'ii— *- Know her better, and see if real, earnest, serious purposes could exist under that gay exterior. ' irpT" ISO WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. Somehow he could not fancy those laughing eyes and that ^ful,curly,golden hair under the stiff cap of a gister of Charity, and he even doubted whether a gray cloak would seem ^ ap- CK^/l*5' ^^r. l'^' ^"** ^"^^"^ «*P« ^here the po^r little child had rested her scarred cheek. He liked to think of iier just aa she looked then and there. And why shouldn't he ferhoS"T*'V^'\^'' ' ^f ?^ ^^ «^«' goingVform a s^- thp S-? ^""n? T^!' ""'^^^^^y i* ^^ ^ duty to understand the sisters. Clearly it was ! I GETTING READY TO BEGIN. 131 766 and that irofChitrity, seem as ap- re the poor I to think of shouldn't he ) form a sis- understand CHAPTER XV. GETTING RBAOT TO BEGIN. HAVING company "is one of those incidents of life which m all circles, high or low, cause more or less searchings of heart. Even the moderate " tea-fight " of good old times necessitated not only anxious thought in the hostess herself, but also a mus- tering and review of best « bibs and tuokers," throm(h the neighbourhood. But to undertake a " serial sociable" in New York, in this day of serials, was something even graver, causing many thoughts and words in many houses. ' Witness the following specimens : " I confess, Nelly, / can't understand Eva's ways," said Aunt Mana, the morning of the first Thursday. '« She don't come to me for advice ; but I confess I don't understand her," Aunt Maria was in a gloomy, severe state of mind, owing to the contumacy and base ingratitude of AUce in rejecting her in- terposition and care, and she came down this morning to signify her (hspleasure to Nelly at the way she had been treated . Idont know what you mean, sister," said Mre. Van Arsdel, deprecatingly. " I'm sure I don't know of anything that Eva's been doing lately." "Why, these evenings of hers ; I don't understand them, oetting out to have receptions in thatUttle out-of-the-way shell of hers ? Why, who'U gol Nobody wants to ramble oflf up there, and not get to anything after aU. It's going to be a soH ot mixed-up affair— newspaper men, and people that nobody Jcnows-aU well enough in their way, perhaps ; but /shan't be mixed up m it. Aunt Maria nodded her head gloomily, and the bows and feathers on her hat quivered protestingly. Oh, they are going to be just unpi-etending sociahlfi lit.f.l« gttthenngs,' said Mrs. Van Ai-sdel. "Just the family and a 132 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. few friends ; and / think they are going to be pleasant. 1 wish you would go, Maria. Eva will be disappointed." "No she won't. It's evident, Nelly, that your girls don't any of them care about me, or regard anything I say. Well I only hope they mayn't live to repent it ; that's all." ' Aunt Maria said this with that menacing sniff with which people in a bad humour usually dispense Christian charity, ri? if/ awfulness of the hope expressed really chilled poor little Mrs. Van Arsdel's blood. Prom long habits of dependence upon her sister, she had come to regard her displeasure as one ot the severer evils of life. To keep the peaoe with Maria, as far as she herself was concerned, would have been easy. Contention wa« fatiguing to her. It was a trouble to have the responsibi- H^. Vc"^. ^ "P ^^'^ ^"^^ ^^^ ' ^^^ s^e was quite willing that Mana should carry her through the journey of life, buy her tickets, choose her hotels, and settle with her cabmen. Uut, complicated with a husband, and a family of bright, inde- pendent daughters, each endowed with a separate will of her own, Mrs. Van Arsdel led on the whole a hard life. People who hate trouble generally get a good deal of it. It's all very well for a gentle acquiescent spirit to be carried through life by one bearer. But when half a dozen bearers quarrel and insist on carrying one opposite ways, the more facile the spirit, the greater the trouble. ^ Mrs. Van Arsdel, in fact, passed a good deal of her life in bemg^ talked over to one course of conduct by Aunt Maria, and taJked ba«k again by her giris. She reserabled a weak, peace- able hamlet on the border-land between France and Germany, taken and retaken with much wear and tear of spirit, and heartily wishing peace at any price. "I don't see how Eva is going to afford all thip,," continued Aunt Mana gloomily. ,.. "^^ • ^^^py ^ ^® ^o evening entertainment, nothing but a little tea, and biscuit, and sponge cake, in the most social way," pleaded Mrs. Van Arsdel. •^' " But all this, every week, in time comes to a good deal " • said Aunt Maria. " Now, if Eva would put all the extra trouble and expense of these evenings into me good hcmdaiynie party of select people and h.ave it over with, why thai would be somethmg worth while, and I would help her get it up. Such GETTING READY TO BEGIN. 133 mt. 1 wish girls don't ly. Well, I with which ian charity, chilled poor dependence isure as one Vlaria, as far Contention 5 responsibi- uite willing of life, buy ler cabmen. >right, inde- will of her fe. People [t's all very >ugh life by 1 and insist • spirit, the her life in Maria, and 'eak, poace- [ Germany, spirit, and ' continued hing but a acial way," jood deal," • the extra I ha/nd$ that every- igain ; and if be as bad as [ ' nevermore ' Thy, it would aunt," said avity. ler, Mammy a to cry any e'll oleai- off re shall like ," said Alice, wms ready," bit of thistle- ig saints — ,". sort in the purpose in ly one — per- I is a happy ;he best side enteen, and very life of t and tend ; > it : and so, he hundred for an even- iiospitalities lO that com- iy to Dinah accustomed Mrs. Betsey had retreated to the kitchen, to indulge herself with Dinah in tremours and changes of emotion which had worn out the patience of Miss Dorcas in the parlour. That good lad / having made up her mind definitively to go and take Betsey with her, was indisposed to repeat every half hour the courM of argument by which she had demonstrated to her that it was the proper thing to do. But the fact was, that poor Mrs. Betsey was terribly flut- tered by the idea of going into company again. Years had paased m that old dim house, with the solemn clock tick-tock- ing in the comer, and the sunbeam sti-eaming duskily at given hours through the same windows, with no sound of cominij or gomg footsteps. There the two ancient sisters had been work- mg, reading, talking, round and round on the same unvarying track, for weeks, months and years, and now, suddenly had come a change. The pretty, gay, little housekeeper a^rois the way had fluttered in with a whole troop of invisible elves of persuasion in the very folds of her garments, and had cajoled and charmed them into a promise to be supporters of her " even- ings," and Miss Dorcas was determined to go. But all ye of womankind know that after every such determination comes a review of the wherewithal, and many tremours. Now Miss Dorcas was self-sufficing, and self-sustained She knew herself to be Miss Dorcas Vanderheyden, in the first pUwje • and she had a general confidence, by right of her family and position, that all her belongings were the right things They nught be out of fashion— so much the worse for the fashion • Miss Dorca« wore them with a cheerful courage. Yet as she frequently remarked, "sooner or lat»r, if you let things Ue fashion always comes round to them." They had come romid ti her many times in the course of her life, and always found her ready for them. But Mrs. Betsey wa« timorous, and had a lanre allowance of what the phrenologists call " approbativeness." In her youth she had been a fashionable young belle, and now she had as many flutters and tremours about her gray curls and her caps as in the days when she sat up aU night in an ann-chair with her hau- dressed and powdered for a ball. In fact, an old lady s cap IS undeniably a tender point. On** might ima-nn- it to be a sort of shrine or last retreat in which aU her youthful love of dress finds aaylum ; and, in estimating her fitness for 136 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. w>,LT^ u ?''??*/' *^^ '""P '^ *^« fi™* consideration. So when Dinah chuck ed, " What ye 'feared on, honey 1'' iC' Betsey came out with it : ^ ' •' Dinah, I don't know which of my caps to wear." hend^l" ' ' ^^"^' ^'^' y^' ""^ °"«- What's to "Well, you see, it's trimmed with lilac ribbons and t},« shade don't go with my new brown gown; they look ^ ^^^^^^ together Dorcas never doi^s notice such thingsf burthev S go well together. I tried to toll Dorcas about^ , but she sh^t me up, saying I was always fussy." ^"'^ "Well, laws .'then, honey, wear your other cap— it's a rijrht nice un now," said Dinah in a coaxing tone ^ iJu^^^ "^'^^ whito ribbon-" said Mrs. Betsey, ruminat- mg; "but you see, Dinah, that ribbon has really got quito yel- ow ; and there's a spot on one of the strings," shi add^ iVa tone of poignant emotion. *^ aaaea, m a " Well, now, I toll ye what to do," said Dinah : " you iest wear your new cap with them laylock ribbins, and wear voui black silk : that are looks illegant now " ^ hZ^""^ "f black silk is so old ; it's pieced under the arm and beginning to fray in the gathers." ' " srenjcy. Mis Jtetsey. Why don't ye go right alonj/ like Mi«' Dinah's tolemnt spirit in admitting this discussion wca i,« ever a x.al relief to W Betsey., Like "aSr^urwtl are under a necessity of working themselves clear, Mre B^tsev fN«.*L!^ essential ; but Dorcas was so entirely above such fluctuations as hers-so positive and definite in all WiuX ments and conclusions-that she could not enjoy in hei sodeW ft was now about the fifth or sixth time that all the possi- GETTING READY TO BEGIN, 187 bJities mth regard to her wardrobe had been up for considera- tion that day ; till M188 Dorcas, who had borne with her herd- cally for a season, had finally closed the discussion by i-ecom mending a chapter n Waits on the Mind, which s.t d a 2at many ,mpleasant things about people who occupy the,S«K ^soThL^ii^trte' ''''' ^^^ ^''-y --'^™ ^ - kn J whites Snf^'^^V tty^'^"^ > "^''^ «-•« I ^-"'t " Land sake, Mis' Betsey, jest as if Jack cared ! Why he'll stay with me. I'll see aner Am— I will" ^ny, neu ap;^?:^"^* *" «^ *^ ^^°^' ^-^^'" -^ Mrs. Betsey, • " ^^'\ l^nT ^"^"^ *° ^^™ ' I ^o»'t «e<^ him up for a graven image and fall down and waahup him, to be sure fZ, J^k Z s;ood times with me, if I do make him mind." The fact was^ that Dinah often seconded the disciolinarv wrby'thrJrd :o^'' ?^ r^^ ^^"' pumngSt^. WM-a by the tail, and correcting him with vigorous thumns of the brooms ick when he fell into those furors of bark ng which were his principal weakness. ""i^mg wnicn Dinah had all the sociable instincts of her race • and it mov«^ her indignation that the few acquaintances w^f^rd thecal to the forsaken old house should be terrified and veMhv Dinah's care. ^ separation of the evening under da^fhSr'lt: r ''°'''* ^^'^P ^"^^ '^ ^^ P^* '^^ noontime of attract on was a very pretty old womaA. Her hands were 8tJl delicate and white, her skin was of lily fairness, and her .w'-n^" ^TiT '^""^'^ ^"^ «^« '^^^^ still aU ?he„ice instincts and habits of the woman who has know^ heS charmxng. She still felt the discord of a shade in h^ ribS hkeafalse note in music, and was annoyed by the suX«f imperfectionof her dr^ss, however concealed toade^^^^^^ seemed^at times wearisome and irrational te her strofg:^ S But Miss Dorcas, who had carried her in her arms a heart- broken wreck snatehed from the waves of a defea3 life S^'^ with her as heroically as we ever can bear with aether 'w We nature is wholly of a different make aud texture from our ow^ In general, she made up her mind with a considemble sh^e of good sense as to what it was l>est for Betsey to do and then made her do it, by that power which a strong and steadv nature exercises over a weaker one. ^ ^ **"*^® Koii^i -f JJ'^'T ^^ ^^^ "P ^^"^ "^i«^ *hat more society, and heHiiter st3 i\'"' "^" "^"'^' '^^^l^ ^ - ^'^^^ itkSl forward ^^ J ^ '"^""^ ^^'"''^ ^ ^^*' *^^ r«*"y looked torward to her evenings an something to give a new variety and interest in life. ** ^ ^^^ ******** ^ «ll"/'''^:,*^''"'' ^'"^ ^^'''^' in a monitory tone, "you know we all depend on you to manage this thing just right to nTght ( \ k; goin', hoH8e8 a- over each other wuth lookin' at B you talk ! " ►meat gal goin'. ig and shaking Betsey, laugh- >, faded cheeks, )ught of all the le noon-time of Jr hands were mess, and her ill all the nice cnown herself n her ribbons J the slightest degree which itronger mind- arms, a heart- bted life, bore mother whose Tom our own. iderable share do, and then steady nature B society, aad t>e a benefit to *, and really t> give a new you know we ght to-nifirht. . OETTINO «EADY TO RROIN. Ijjp ? You mustn't he too lively and frighlon tho serioun fV»Ik« . i * \ jou must keep things .noving, juS hh you kZ^h^J^!'" ' '^"* i r^^''.*r® y°" K«^°K ^ ^^ve « our rector 1 ' " „aid Jim Certainly. Mr. St. John will be there." "^''^ '^'"»- And of course, our little Angie," said Jin,. . ^§^^^:;^^^ - -P-- I. «1- all yo^l^^^^rmrhaTs^jtCt^^^^^^^^^ '^^■-^V.^-j;, Alice thoughi predL'drmrg'Ser''^ ^" What's the matter now ? " said Jim. ^ ' I know just what you're thinking," said AIic« • «« „„ i now Jim, you mustn't look that way to-Lht " ' ^"^ " Look what way ! " ^ ** " Well, you mustn't in arvu wav Innt o;«« -direct anybody, attentio?: TWst jX'a^A:i'*'S course there's nothing there • it's all « fannl/^T ^ ' ^^ ^;^y absurd one; but I've known peonle nS ^"""^ ^^"'^ able by such absurd suggestfonl^' ^^ ''^'^ vmcomfort- looki^t" '™ ^ *^ "'"' ^^" «P^*^^^«« ^ keep my oyes from ,•- r^V^ *" '^'* J""'' "«***' '^»"^' «^d nobody knows how th«f the SAdS.-'^T-.et t™ tZ^^.- '1' '"^' '°™ *» »'' Mojes ; and ril Wk righTthr„Tertr tf I "\''' Tl " " Angie. Anything more ) " ^' "^ ' «^ >""> '""kmg ',' No. that'll do," »id Alice, Iau<;h and It will be good enough." hing. "Only do your best, Eva was busy about Uer preparations, wl.en D- r.._. . ., wiuie in to borrow a book. " ' ' ^ampoeu 140 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. Now, Dr. Campbell, ' said she, " you're just the man I wanted to see. I must tell you that one grand reason why I want to be sure and secure you for our evenings, and this one in particular, is I have caught our rector and got his promise to come, and I want you to study him critically, for I'm afraid, he's in the way to get to heaven long before we do, if he isn't looked after. Hes not m the least conscious of it, but he does need af tention. Dr. Campbell was a hale young man of twenty five : blonde v^orous high-strung, active, and self-confident, and as keen set alter medical and scientific facts as a race-horse for the goal As a general thing, he had no special fancy for clergymen -but a clergjTnan as a physical study, a possible verification of some othw theories, was an object of interest, and he readily pro- mised Eva that he would spare no pains in making Mr St Johns acquaintance. "Now, drolly enough," said Eva, " we're going to have a Quaker preacher here. I went in to invite Ruth and her hus- band ; and lo they have got a celebrated minister staying with them one Sibyl Selwyn. She is as lovely as an angel in a pressed crape cap and dove-coloured gown ; but what Mr. St John will think about her I don't know." ;; Oh Mrs. Henderson, there'll be trouble there, depend on It, said Dr. CampbeU. « He won't recognise her ordination and very likely she won't recognise his. You see, I was brought up among the Fnends. I know all about them. If your friend Sibyl should have a ' concern ' laid on her for your Mr. St. John she would tell him some wholesome truths." « Dear me," said Eva, " I hope she woi't have a * concern ' the very first evening. It would be embarrassing." n ^h^°. '^^ ^^^ *^® ^^^^' *^®s® Quaker preachers are gene- rally delightful women," said Dr. CampbeU. "I'm sure I ought to say so, for my good aunt that brought me up was one of them and I don't doubt that Sibyl Selwyn will prove quite an addition to your circle." Well, the evening came, and so did all the folks. But what they said and did, must be told in another chapter. THE minister's VISIT. 141 t the man I reason 'why I and this one lis promise to m afraid, he's 3 isn't looked does need at* live ; blonde, d as keen set for the goal, •gymen ; but tion of some readily pro- sing Mr. St. ag to have a md her hus- stajring with angel in a rhat Mr. St. , depend on r ordination, was brought your friend ilr. St. John a * concern ' jrs are gene- ure I ought was one of •ve quite an But what CHAPTER XVI. THE minister's VISIT. MR. ST. JOHN was sitting in his lonely study, contem- plating with some apprehension the possibilities of the evening. Perhaps few women tnow how much of an ordeal general society 18 to many men. Women are naturallv social and tn-e- garious and have very little experience of the'kind of shyness that IS the outer bark of many manly natures, in which they tortify all the more sensitive part of their being against the rude shocks of the world. As we said, Mr. St. John's life had been that of a recluse and scholar up to the time of his ordination as a priest. He was by birth and education, a New England Puritan, with all those habitfl of reticence and self-control which a New England edu- cation enforces. His religious experiences, being those of re- action from a sterile and severe system of intellectual dogma- tism, stUl earned with them a tinge of the precision and nar- rowness of his early life. His was a nature like some of the streams of his native mountains, inclining to cut for itself straight deep narrow currents; and all his religioiis reading and thinking had run m one channel. As to social life, he first began to find it among his inferiors ; among those to whom he came, not as a brother man, but as an authoritative teacher— a master, dmnely appointed, set apart from the ordinary ways of Tl. a"" '^^^' °f, priest he felt strong. In the belief of his divine and sa<;red calling, he moved among the poor and igno- r^t with a conscious superiority, as a being of a higher sphere. ^tZ^?<^T^^^^^ ^^ ^^ "^^^^ ™^ prot^tiontohS; natural diffidence; he seemed among his parishionera to feel surrounded by a certain sabred atmosphere that shielded him from cnticism. But to mingle in society as man with man. to loir aSldS ifiit X. ^''^^^ *°^ ^ *^^^y *h® gentleman, appeared on near approach a severe undertaking, is a priest at thedC 142 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. hLX^^ T* ^»?«'P™*ectedbyakmdof divine aureole, to make hw way only as other men ; and, as a man, St John distrusted and undervalued himself. As he thought t over he miy assent^ to the truth of what Eva had so artfully stated- self sSSfi'^'^T'^ "^"'^ T ^^^' ^^^ ^' *h^ *ru« test of self-sacnfice. Like many other men of refined natures he was nervously sensitive to pergonal influences. The s^S sph"^ of those around him affected him, through sympathy, a mK immediately aa the rays of the sun impress^e daLSp^ the more because he dreaded it. « After all," he said to W Sow it'outV'"'^ """^^ "^ ^''^'''^ ^ '' '^^' '^' ^* ™^^1 uiilT """^^ T*" ^^r?^.*" ^ *^^^ t*^t ^« «ta»^ out on his Zlj^lT'^^'t"' of WsUing and ministmtion in one of the poorest alleys of his neighbourhood. " Mr. St. Don ; Mr. St. Don." He looked hastily down and around, to meet thecazeofa \m: 9r^^\ te recognised in the thin, bare-foit chUd. the ht^ e^l whom he had seen in Angle's class, leaning on her "Wliat do you want, my child?" Jl ^***^*'''« *^t ]^> a"^d Poll's gone to wash for her. They ™rto"u "*^' ^'" ^""^ '"'^"'' -•* -" ^- Moth- thl^T^^S^Iy^L^^S" "^'''^•- '*• «^«^-''^ff«»>^7, inking ..r^^ ''*'"'^ *^^ ^^. 'f''*^- an alley-way, into a dark, back pas- sage, up one or two nckety staircases, into an attic, where lay v woman on a poor bed in the comer. ^ The room was such a one as his work made only too famiKar ^r,^^^ ^'/^''^ ^^"^ ^^ '^"^orts, yet not without a certain Imgenng air of neatness and self-respect. The linen of the bed 7hTJ"^4i' ^^ *^^ 7**"^*^ *^** ^"y **•-« h^^ «»*rks of sou- thing refined and decent in her worn face. ah« wa«. h„^;j.„ THE minister's VISIT. 143 ii vine aureole, as but ya man, nan, St. John fht it over, he rully stated — le true test of ^tures, he was social sphere ihy, almost as laguerreotype to the ordeal > said to him- among men ? ret wind will k1 out on his n one of the ig voice was ;he gaze of a , sharp little ot child, the ig on her. her. They u. Mother ably, taking k, back pas- where lay v too familiar ut a certain I of the bed cs of some- rosi niiwnivtfif with fever; evidently, hard work and trouble had driven her to the breaking point. " WeU, my good woman, what can I do for you 1 " said Mr. St. John. The woman roused from a feverish sleep and looked at him " Oh, sir, please send her here. She said she would come any time I needed her, and T want her now." " Who is she? Who do you mean 1 " "Please, sir, she means my teacher," said the child, with a bnght, wise look in her thin little face. " It's Miss Angie Mother wants her to come and talk to father ; father's jrettin^ bad ap'iin." * * " ^^^i«y* a ^ n»an/' put in the woman, "except they get him todnnk; it's the hquor. God knows there never w^ a kinder man than John used to be." ♦mere is he 1 I will try to see him," said Mr. St. John. Uh, don t ; it won t do any good. He hates ministers : he . .uldn t hear you ; but Miss Angle he wiU hear ; he promised her he wouldn t dnnk any more, but Ben Jones and Jun Price have been at him and got him off on a spree. O dear ' " At this moment a feeble wail was heard from the basket- cradle in the comer, and the little girl jumped from the bed,and in an important, motherly way, began to soothe an indignant baby who put up his stomach and roared loudly after the man- ner of his kind, astonished and angry at not finding the instant solace and attention which his place in creation demanded fi, vJ^' u- "^^^^ '''',^ * ^^^ ^^»^1®^* helplessness, while the httle skinny creature lifted a child who seemed almost as large as herself and proceeded to soothe and assuage his ill humour by many mexplicable arts, till she finaUy quenched his cnes in a sucking-bottle, and peace was restored " The only person in the worid that can do John any good " resumed the woman, when she could be heard, " is Miss Amrie John would turn any rmn, specially any minister, out ttfthe house that said a word about his ways; but he likes to have Miss Angle come here. She has been here Saturday afternoons and read stones to the chUdren, and taught tiiem little songs. ;!:,m''!^.^''T- f ^'^^ ^^ f^^ ^^^«* «^* ^^"^ ^ promise he ..ou.a gir^ up diiiikiag ; sne has such pretty ways of talkimr a man can't get mad with her. What I want is, can't yoitS U4 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. her John s gone, and ask J,er to come to me 1 He'll he gone two days or mo^, and when he comes back he'll be sonylh^alwavs »B then ; and then if Miss Angie will talk to himTyou s^ K takefnotK , tT' ^^ '* '^^^ P^^«^« ^^ *h** «he takes notice of is. John always puts his best foot foremost Vn^ ^ "'S*' '* ^^ ^'^o^^ ^ J^y ^ten he s^s her." Well my good woman," said Mr. St John, « I shall see Miss at^^tfiT ' Z"^' .'?;' r "^^ ^ «"^« ^^'^^ I shall telTherri about this. Meanwhile, how are you off 1 Do you need money when h^wenf U.'p f'^^' ^' ""^^ ^" "^^ ^^* ^^^^'s money 7fZ if f ' w ^''" *""* 8^"^ **» ^y wash-pla<;e to-day, and I told her to ask for pay. I hop 3 they'll send it." ^' keenthfnZ.^''*'. '^.\^"-,.®*- '^°^^' "^«^«^« something to r/u^te"^' '" "^^'^ ^* ^^" '^«- ' '- beenlte^t^r. hefZ^r"'^'' • i^u" ^*^ ^""."<^*^^^ P"*l« of independence, and iff t ! ^«««™Plishment-she could wash and iron! There she felt strong ! Mr. St. John allowed her the refuge and le? her consider the money as an advance, not a charity 8taSw?thth/Z^' and went down the cracked and broken hi«?rZt.\ ^l^o^ght struggling in an undefined manner in his breast, how much there was of pastoral work which trans Ttl'^ 'wrlnS' ^"' ^"^"% *^« finer Tntetenrn 01 woman. With all, there came a glow of shv oleasure that there was a subject of intorcommunicftion openedttw^n bim man tTfl' T^'u^^ ^'^''^' *« '^^^ ^^^^^ ^ ^"d to aTffiden^ man a definite subject is a mine of gold. OTIR FIRST THURSDAY 145 CHAPER XVII. OUR FIRST THURSDAY. THE Henderson's first "Evening" was a social success. The little parlours were radiant with the blaze of the wood-fire, which gleamed and flashed and made faces at itself in the tall, old-fashioned brass andirons, and gave picturesque tints to the room. Eva's tea table was spread in one corner, dainty with its white drapery, and with her pretty wedding-present of china upon it — not china like Miss Dorcas Vanderhey den's, of the real old Chinese fabric, but china fresh from the'modern improvements of Paris, and so adorned with violets and grasses and field flowers that it made a December tea-table look like a meadow where one could pick bouquets. Every separate tea-cup and saucer was an artist's study, and a topic for conversation. The arrangement of the rooms had been a day's work of careful consideration between Eva and AngeUque. There was probably not a perch or eyrie accessible by chairs, tables, or ottomans, where these little persons had not been mounted, at divers times of the day, trying the effect of various floral decor- ations. The amount of fatigue that can be gone through in the mere matter of preparing one little set of rooms for an evening reception, is something that men know nothing about ; only the sisterhood could testify to that frantic "fanaticism of the beautiful " which seizes them when an evening company is in contemplation, and their house is to put, so to speak, its best foot forward. Many an aching back and many a drooping form could testify how the woman spends herself in advance, in this sort of altar dressing for home worship. But as a consequence, the little rooms were bowers of beauty. The pictures were overshadowed with nodding wreaths of pressed ferns and bright bitter-sweet berries, with glossy holK .^/«rco , wic auM.uci,M3s uiui DocKgrounds of ivy wnich threw out their whiteness. Harry's little workroom adjoining the parlour 146 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. geranium, and sent them in to Eva aAd ]^-«« V **1«T^«* awav about half «f «« • r^ \ ^ ^^^ Dorcas had cut place of withdrLal anHuTet cttl ov^^^^^^^^ W^J ^^ a possession of Miss Dorcas vSrLvden th? ^ """'^ ^""^ short drPSH nf i.,«i. t«j- J anaerneyden, who came m a very arm-oha. before a table of engravings, »d i;^g;nl' ^i^S OUR FIRST THURSDAY. 147 conversation on a book of etchings of the « Old Houses of New York." These were subjects on which Mrs. Betsey could talk and talk entertainingly. They carried her back to the days of her youth ; bringing back scenes, persons, and places long for- gotten, her knowledge of which was full of entertainment Angehque wonderingly saw her transfigured before her eyes It seemed as if an after-glow from the long set sun of youthful beauty flashed back in the old, worn face, as her memory went back to the days of youth and hope. It is a great thing to the old and taded to feel themselves charming once more even for an hour ; and Mrs. Betsey looked into the blooming face and wide open, admmng, hazel eyes of Angelique, and felt that she was giving pleasure, that this charming young person was really delighted to hear her talk. It was one of those " cups of cold water that Angelique was always giving to neglected and out-of-the-way people, without ever thinking that she did so, or why she iid it, just because she was a sweet, kind-hearted, loving little girl. ' When Mr. St. John, with an apprehensive spirit, adventured his way into the room, he felt safe and at ease in a moment. All was light, and bnght, and easy— nobody turned to look at him, and it seemed the easiest thing in the world to thread his way through busy chattmg groups to where Eva made a place for him by her side at the tea-table, passed him his cup of tea, and introduced him to Dr. Campbell, who sat on her other side, cutting the leaves of a magazine. "You see," said Eva, laughing, « I make our Doctor useful on the Founer principle. He is dying to get at those magazine articles, so I let him cut the leaves and t«^e a peep along here and there, but I forbid reading-in our presence, men have got to give over absorbing, and begin radiating. Doesn't St. Paul say, Mr. St. John, that if women are to learn anything they are to ask their husbands at home 1 and doesn't that imply that their husbands at home are to talk to them, and not sit readmg newspapers 1 " » I confess I never thought of that inference from the passage." said Mr. St. John, smiling. F«««ago, "But the modern woman," said Dr. Campbell. " scorns to asK her ausband at home. She holds that her husband should 148 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. " Oh, well, I am not the modern woman. I eo for the old boundaries and the old privileges of my sex; and be^des / am a good church woman and prefer to ask m^ husband. But 1 nsist, as a necessary consequence, that he must hear me and answer me, as he cannot do if he is reading newspapers or magazines Isn't that case fairly argued, Mr. St JohW 1 don't see but it is." " Well, then, the spirit of it applies to the whole of your c Itured and mstructive sex. Men, in the presence of women, ought always to be prepared to give them information, to anrusefur ' '"^ "'^' themsetves generally entertaining " You see, Mr St. John," said Dr. Campbell, » that Mrs Henderson has a dangerous facility for generalizing. Set her mightnTru^^ '^"'"" "" '"^^"^ ^^^^« her^nferences "I'd almost release Mr. St. John from my rules, to allow t?d F.r ^?l^" this reticle of yours, though. Dr. Campbell," Tl^f' \^T^ h^ .'■'.*^ '^ *« «*«' *nd I «aid, along in different parts of it, if ministers only knew these tWngs how much good they might do ! " "ungs, now "What is the article?" unon^Ml'wJI^T^**'^''^ ^ '"'^''^ ^" * Abnomal Influences upon the Will; It covers a pretty wide ground as to the ^ralUhlt/""'*" responsibility and the recovery of criminals, Mr. St. John remembered at this moment the case of the KrT^^*^ ^'^'^ *^*^ afternoon, and the periodi(^ i^j[7^'^^ T "^t^ ?S her family life a shipwreck, and he turned to Dr. Campbell a face so full of eager inquiry and ^•llT ?kT^ *^T *^e^*^^«''' *"d i°«Oa«tly she moved iiom her seat between them, to welcome a new comer who was entenng the room. «« wws "I've got them together," she whispered to Harry a few rr^'fl*^"' ^ '^^ "^"^ *^** *^« *^« ^«'« turned towards each other, apparently intensely absorbed in conversation. 1 he two might have formed a not unapt personification of Kth^^'P"*r u^/- ^"^"^ * broad-sLulderTd^P breathed, long-limbed man, with the proudly set head and OUR FIRST THURSDAY. 149 I quivering nostrils of a high-blooded horse — an image of superb physical vitality : St. John, so delicately and sparely built, with his Greek forehead and clear blue eye, the delicate vibra- tion of his cleanly cut lips, and the cameo purity of every out- line of his profile. Yet was he not without a certain air of vigour, the out-shining of {spiritual forces. One could fancy Campbell as the Berserker who could run, race, wrestle, dig, and wield the forces of nature, and St. John as the poet and orator who could rise to higher regions and carry souls upward with him. It takes both kinds to make up a world. And now glided into the company the vision of two women in soft, dove-coloured silks, with white crape kerchiefs crossed upon their breasts, and pressed crape caps bordering their faces like a transparent aureole. There was the neigh- bour, Ruth Baxter, round, rosy, young, blooming, but dressed in the straitest garb of her sect. With her back turned, you might expect to see an aged woman stricken in years, so prim and antique was the fashion of her garments ; but when her face was turned, there was the rose of youth blooming amid the cool snows of cap and kerchief. The smooth pressed hair rippled and crinkled in many a wave, as if it would curl if it dared, and the round blue eyes danced with a scarce suppressed light of cheer that might have become mirthfulness, if set free ; but yet the quaint primness of her attire set off her womanly charms beyond all arts of the toilet. Her companion was a matronly person, who might be fifty or thereabouts. She had that calm, commanding serenity that comes to woman only from the habitual exaltation of the spiritual nature. Sibyl Selwyn was known in many lands as one of the most zealous and best accepted preachers of her sect. Her life had been an inspiration of pity and mercy ; and she had been in far countries of the earth, where there was sin to be reproved or sorrow to be consoled, a witness to testify and a medium through whom guilt and despair might leain some- thing of the Divine Pity. She bore about with her a power of personal presence very remarkable. Her features were cast in large and noble mould ; her clear cut, wide-open gray eyes had a penetrating yet kind expression, that seemed adapted buth tu uearch and tu uheer, and went far to justify the opinion of her sect, which attributed ISO WE AND OUR NEraHBODHS. L%pWte" 'i^m2.1'«^.;!''t'P™'""'= Sift »f thed«cern- movement by which the two had come 1^-80 MrfMtlv^ki, S^C'tMelJ *7 ™''"'^''"" *■> »^^*- otZ" occasion, tftat their entrance made no MorA hri^aJr r.^ Ai.t. bance in the social circle than thTstelngTn of ?Jav o^^^^^^^^ through a church window. ^ ^^ *** "S***^ Eva had risen and gone to them at once had seaterl f >iam «* the opposite side of tie little tea-tabinnd plr?d ^1"?^^^ chattmg the while and looking into the^ se^rerLes^th i 7:ZZ^':'^' "'^^^ "- '««-^^ backVomThem S T^: cup'^Sfhrnlett^JSTf f Xd'. ^r' ^^^ '^' ^ Eva felt a sort of awed pleasure in Sibvl's nrlmJraf ;«« «* i. ^^ni^^isih-teck'de'fc'^'Tfgrir 1?^ « peculiarly impressible undXtd^iJ'Sau^r It wS lor one feibyl belwyn to hold a meeting in his littlp rVian«l on^ bSj/'^>l1i Hi«!d*«*«f»fe'^e|reacWhSlbe^^^^^^^ b ended with the mediaeval mascuUne contempt of womanSd Wh«nT ""^ ""^^"."^ ^^'"^^ P'^^li^ teachere and kct^^ L nnf^lT?"" T? ^^^ ^« ^^ exhalation before h^ he did not at first recaU the applicant for his chapel, butheToked at her adimringly in a sort of dazed wonder, and inquired of Dr. Campbell ma low voice, " Who is that ? " ^ _ Uh, said Dr. CamDbell, "don't vo" i'*s-wr9 ^^ -' *.' Quaker p««her, Sibyl ^Iw^n ; thewo^u XlLfeirf »^ Oril FIRST THURSDAY. 151 ft of the discern- there seemed to ich as one might ust stepped from ►ve-like was the I perfectly, cheer- empathies of the i break or distur- of a ray of light d seated them at oured their tea, •ene faces with a 1 them in smiles itsses on her tea- e often remarks, ense, unfrittered is prompt to ap- imiration of her ig to play with trth's unweaned ition, looked up bo him ; a head aitures of holy described him lences. It was en made to him ;tle chapel, and ad been largely of woman and and lecturers, before him, he I, but he looked id inquired of ■w? vr i 3 has faced and that's tne put down the devil in places where ijm couldn't and I woaldnH go- St. John felt the blood flush in his cheeks, and a dim idea took possession of him that, if some had entertained angels unawares, others unawares had rejected them. " Yes," said Dr. Campbell, " that woman has been alone, at midnight, through places where you and I could not go without danger of our heads ; and she has said words to bar-tenders and brothel keepers that would cost us our lives. But siie walks out of it all, as calm as you seo lier to-night. I know that kind of woman — I was brought up among them. They are an interesting physiological study ; the over-cerebration of the spiritual faculties among them occasions some very peculiar facts and phenomena. I should like to show you a record I have kept. It gives them at times an almost miraculous as- cendancy over others. I fancy," he said carelessly, " that your legends of the saints could furnish a good many facts of the same sort." At this moment, Eva came up in her authoritative way as mistress of ceremonies, took Mr. St. John by the arm, and, walking across with him, seated him by Sibyl Selwyn, intro- duced them to each other, and left them. St. John was em- barrassed, but Sibyl received him with the perfect composure in which she sat enthroned. "Arthur St. John," she said, " I am glad to meet thee. I am interested in thy work among the poor of this quarter, and have sought the Lord for thee in it." "I am sure I thank you," said St. John, thus suddenly re- duced to primitive elements and spoken to on the simple plane of his unvarnished humanity. It is seldom, after we come to mature years and have gone out int< the world, that any one addresses us simply by our name without prefix or addition of ceremony. It is the province only of rarest intimacy or nearest relationship, and it was long since St. John had been with friend or relation who could thus address him. It took him back to childhood and his mother . knee. He was struggling with a vague sense of embarrassment, when he remembered the curt and almost rude manner in which he had repelled her overture to speak in his chapel, and the contempt he had felt for her at the time. In the presence of the clear, saintly face, 152 WE AND OUR NKIGHBOUBS. it seemed as if he had been unconsciously guilty of violating a shrine. He longed to apologize, but he «lid not know how to begin. " I feel," he said, " that I am inexperienced and that the work is very great. You," he added, " have had longer know- ledge of it than I ; perhaps I mi^ht learn something of you." "Thou wilt be led," said Sibyl, with the same assured calmness, " be not afraid." " I am sorry — I was sorry," said St. John, hesitating, " to refuse the help you oflFered in speaking in my chapel, but it is contrary to the rules of the church." " Be not troubled. Thee follows thy light. Thee can do no otherways. Thee is but young ,et," she said, with a motherly smile. ♦* I did not know you personally then," he said. " I should like to talk more with you, some time. I should esteem it a favour to have you tell me some of your experiences." " Some time, if we can sit together in stillness, I might have something given me for thee ; this is not the time," said Sibyl, with quiet graciousness. A light laugh seemed to cut into the gravity of the conver- sation. Both turned. Angelique was the centre of a gay group to whom she was telling a droll story. Angie had a gift for this sort of thing ; and Miss Dorcas and Mrs. Betsey, Mrs. Van Arsdel and Mr. Van Arsdel were gathered around her as, with half-pantomime, half-mimicry, she was giving a street scene in one of her Sunday-school visitations. St. John laughed too ; he could not help it. In a moment, however, he seemed to recollect himself, and sighed and said : " It seems sometimes strange to me that we can allow our- selves to laugh in a world like this. She is only a child or she couldn't.' Sibyl looked tenderly at Angelique. " It is her gift," she said. " She is one of the children of the bride-chamber, who cannot mourn because the bridegroom is with them. It would be better for thee, Arthur St. John, to be more a child. Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty." St. John was impressed by the calm decision of this woman's manner, and the atmosphere of peace and assurance around OUR FIRST THURSDAY. 153 of violating a b know how to i and that tlie i longer know- tiing of you." same assured esitating, " to apel, but it is Thee can do I said, with a d. " I should lid esteem it a aces." biess, I might ihe time," said of the conver- a. gay group to . a gift for this bsey, Mrs. Van id her a3, with street scene in 1 laughed too ; he seemed to can allow our- >nly a child or her gift," she chamber, who It would child. em. more a f this woman's urauce around hor. The half-mystical character of her words fell in with his devout tendencieH, Jind that strange, indefinable aornethhuj that invests some persons with influence seemed to be with her, and he murmured to himself the words from Comus — " She fables not, and I do feel her words Set off by Hoiiie Hiiperior power." Mr. St. John had not for a moment during that whole even- ing lost the consciousness that Angelique was in the room. Through that doubk jeaf... by which two trains of thought can be going on at the ' me tun', he was sensible of her presence and of what she v as loi'ig, hrough all his talks with other people. He had glvtij one glance, when he came into the room, to the place wh < - ^.^m was sitting and entertaining Mrs. Betsepr, and without any apparent watchfulness he was yet conscious of every movement she made from time to time. He knew when she dropped her handkerchief, he knew when she rose to get down another book, and when she came to the table and poured for Mrs. Betsey another cup of tea. A subtle exhilaration was in the air. He knew not why everything seemed so bright and cheerful ; it is as when a violet or an orange blossom, hid in a distant part of a room, fills the air with a vague deliciousness. He dwelt dreamily on Sibyl's half mystical words, and felt as if an interpreting angel had sanctioned the charm that he found in this bright, laughing child. He liked to call her a child to himself, it was a pleasant little nook into which he could retreat from a too severe scrutiny of his feelings towards her ; for, quite unknown to himself, St. John's heart was fast slipping off into the good old way of Eden. But we leave him for a peep at other parties. It is amusing to thmk how many people in one evening company are weav- ing and winding threads upon their own private, separate spook. Jim Fellows, in the dining-room, was saying to Alice : "Im going to bring Hal Stephens and Ben Hubert to you this evening ; and by George, Alice, I want you to look after them a little, as you can. They are raw newspaper boys, XT u J j"'^" ^ iurK J anu noDoay cares a hang for them. Pjobody does care a hang for any stranger body, you know. Ihey haven t a decent place to visit, nor a woman to say a I i 154 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. word to them ; and yet I tell you they're good fellows,- Every- body curses newspaper reporters and that sort of fellow. No- body has a good word for them. It's small salary, and many kicks and cuffs they got at first ; and yet that's the only way to get on the papers, and make a man of yourself at last ; and so, as I've got up above the low rounds, I want to help the boys that are down there, and I'll tell you, Alice, it'll do'em lots of good to know you." And so Alice was gracious to the new-comers and made them welcome, and showed them pictures, and drew them out to talk, and made them feel that they were entertaining her. Some women have this power of divining what a man can say, and giving him courage to say it. Alice was one of these ; people wondered when they left her how they had been made to talk so well. It was the best and truest part of every one's nature that she gave courage and voice to. This power of young girls to ennoble young men is unhappily one of which too often they are unconscious. Too often the woman, in- stead of being a teacher in the higher life, is only a flatterer of the weaknesses and lower propensities of the man whose admiration she seeks. St. John felt frightened and embarrassed with his message to Angle. He had dwelt on it, all his way to the house, as an auspicious key to a conversation which he anticipated with pleasure ; yet the evening rolled by, and though he walked round and round, and nearer and nearer, and conversed with this and that one, he did not come to the point of speaking to Angle. Sometimes she was talking to somebody else and he waited ; sometimes she was not with anybody else, and then he waited lest his joining her should be remarked. He did not stop to ask himself why on earth it should be remarked any more than if he had spoken to Alice or Eva, or anybody else, but he felt as if it would be. At last, however, after making several circles about the table where she sat tr'th Mrs. Betsey, he sat down by them, and delivered his message with a formal precision, as if he had been giving her a summons. Angle was all sympathy and sweetness, and readily said she would go and see the poor wo uan the very next day, and then an awkward pause ensued. She was a little afraid of him as a preternaturally good man, OUR FIRST THURSDAY. 156 5II0WS.- Every- of fellow. No- lary, and many 8 the only way 3lf at last ; and ant to help the lice, it'll do'em and made them jw them out to lining her. n^hat a man can IS one of these ; had been made of every one's This power of f one of which he woman, in- only a flatterer lie man whose th his message le house, as an ticipated with igh he walked conversed with nt of speaking ebody else and r else, and then irked. He did 1 be remarked va, or anybody about the table by them, and , as if he had sympathy and 1 see the poor i pause ensued. ally good man, and began to wonder whether she had been laughing too loud, or otherwise misbehaving, in the gaiety of her heart, that evening. So, after a rather dry pause, Mr. St. John uttered some commonplaces about the books of engravings before them, and then, suddenly seeming to recollect something he had forgotten, crossed the room to speak to Dr. Campbell. "Dear me, child, and so that is your rector," said Mrs. Betsey. " Isn't he a little stiflF? " "I believe he is not much used to so ety," said Angie ; " but he is a very good man." The evening entertainment had rather a curious finale. A spirit of sociability had descended upon the company, and it was one of those rar • tides that come sometimes where every- body is having a good time, and nobod looks at one's watch ; and so, ten o'clock was long past, and eleven had struck, and yet there was no movement for dissolving the session. Across the way old Dinah had watched the bright windows with longing eyes, until finally the spirit of the occasion was too strong for her, and, bidding Jack lie down and be a good dog, she left her own precincts and ran across to the kitchen of the festal scene, to pick up some crumbs for her share. Jack looked at her in winking obedience as she closed the kitchen door, being mindful in his own dog's head of a smsdl slip of a pantry window which had served his roving purposes before now. The moment Dinah issued from the outer door, Jack bounced from the pantry window and went padding at a discreet distance from her heels. Sitting down on the front door mat of the festive mansion, he occupied himself with his own reflections till the door opening for a late comer gave him an opportunity to slip in quietly. Jack used his entrance ticket with discretion, watched, waited, reconnoitered, till finally, seeing an unemployed otto- man next Mrs. Betsey, he suddenly appeared in the midst, sprang up on the ottoman with easy grace, sat up on his hind paws, and waved his front ones affably to the public. The general tumult that ensued, the horror of Miss Dorcas, the sooTdiiig she tried to five Jack, the storm of apT>lpVt?e and petting which greeted him in all quarters, confirming him,' I Iff I I 156 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. as Miss Dorcas remarked, in his evil ways,— all these may better be imagmed than described. " A quarter after eleven, sister ! " " Can it be possible 1 " said Mrs. Betsey. " No wonder Jack came to bring us home." Jack seconded the remark with a very staccato bark and a bnsk movement towards the door, where, with much laughing many handshakings, ardent protestations that they had had a delightful evening, and promises to come again next week, the company dispersed. may better KAKING UP THE FIRE, 167 ro wonder Jack ito bark and a tnuch laughing, bhey had had a next week, the CHAPTER XVIII. RAKING UP THE FIRE. THE cream of an evening's company is the latter end of it, after the more ceremonious have slipped away and only " we and our folks '' remain to* croon and rake up the fire. Mr. and Mrs. Van Arsdel, Angelique, and Marie went home in the omnibus. Alice staid to spend the night with Eva, and help put up the portfolios, and put back the plants, and turn the bower back into a work room, and set up the vases of flowers in a cool place where they could keep till morning ; because, you know — you who are versed in these things — that flowers in December need to be made the most of, in order to go as far as possible. Bolton yet lingered in his arm-chair, in his favourite comer, gazing placidly at the coals of the fire. Dr. Campbell was solacing himself, after the unsatisfied longings of the evening, with seeing how his own article locked in print, and Jim Fel- lows was helping miscellaneously in setting back flower-pots, re-arrangmg books, and putting chairs and tables, that had been arranged festively, back into humdrum household places. Meanwhile, the kind of talk was going on that usually follows, a social venture — a sort of review of the whole scene and of aU the actors. " Well, Doctor, what do you think of our rector ? " said Eva, tapping his magazine briskly. He lowered hismagaiine and squared himself round gravely. " That fellow hasn't enough of the abdominal to carry his bram power," he said. " Splendid head— a little too high in the upper stories and not quite heavy enough in the basement. But if he had a good broad, square chest, and a good digestive and blood-making apparatus, he'd go. The fellow wants blood ; he needs mutton and beef, and plenty of it. That's what he needs. What's called common-sense is largely a matter of good diet and digestion." 158 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. ♦!,,•«? Wn-'' JO" materialistic creature!" said Eva "to think of talking of a clergyman as if he were rhorse^to b^ managed by changing hi? feed ' " norse— to be good^mn!"^^' * "^" """'^ ^' ^^'''^^ '^"™"^ ^«^°^« he can be a Ji^Ti^^' T^ f^ir* "all I know is, that Mr. St. John is per- fectly, disinterestedly, heart and soul and body devoted to doing good among men ; and if that is not noWe and ^Ld and gcdhke, I don't know what is." ^ all'S'fetts^tbST^"' -^h'"' ' P^^^°""^ ^««P««*for ail inose lellows that are trying to mop out the Atlantic Ocean ; and he mops cheerfully and with good courage/' It 8 perfectly hateful of you, Doctor, to talk so," sSd Eva 'Well, you know I don't go in for interfering with naturel- havmg noble, splendid fellow! waste and wear thm elves dow^ to keep miserable scalawags and ill-begotten vermin fromS out as they ought to. Nature is doing her besUo kToff hf poor specimens of the race, begotten of vice and drunkenness .nd what you cajl Christian cEarity is only interference.'' ' »«n.i^ f *l * '*' ■^*'*'**'J ' y°" ^»«^ you do. Nobody does more of that very sort of thing than you do, now. iWt vou sTch'p^ople^^? "^'^""^ '''' ''^^-^' and'allTiat^ToTst •' I'don'f i/rl^'^'.-r? '^' ^^'*? *h^*'" «*id *h« Doctor. toe and worry their lives out to save the scum and dr^s Here 8 a man who, by economy, honesty, justice, temperS and hard work, has grown rich,'and has ho;ses,^drnd?and gardens, and pictures, and what not, and is hav ng a Lood t^e as he ought to have ; and right by him is aSef wh^by ^ hones y, and idleness, and drinking, has come tTraS^an^ ppver y and sickness. Shall the temperate and just maf deny pour out his money, to take care of the wife and children of no' "uT.^^ ^^T} 'i' ^r^^^" i" « rmt.helH and Jsay — s-^.awags ftnd that their duties .vili be performed for them when they neglect them, that's all they S. What RAKING UP THE FIRE. 159 said Eva, "to a horse— to be 9re he can be a St. John is per- ly, devoted to ble and grand ind respect for the Atlantic ourage." 30," said Eva. with nature — mselves down, oin from dying to kill off the drunkenness ; erence." Nobody does w. Don't you that, to just d the Doctor. J better than ' don't believe rine that the torment and Q and dregs. , temperance ad lands, and ; a good time who, by dis- to rags and ist man deny 8 health, and i children of ? and /say, erformed for 'ant. What should St. John live like a hermit for 1 deny himself food, rest and sleep 1 spend a fortune that might make hi»n and some nice wife happy and comfortable, on dunkards' » . es and chil- dren] No sense in it." " That's just where Christianity stands above and opposite to nature," said Bolton, from his corner. " Nature says, de- stroy. She is blindly striving to destroy the maimed and im- perfect. Christianity says, save. Its God is the Good Shepherd, who cares more for the one lost sheep than for the ninety and nine that went not astray." " Yes, "said Eva ; " He who was worth more than all of us put together, came down from heaven to labour and suffer and die for sinners." "That's supernaturalism," said Dr. Campbell. "I don't know about that." " That's what we learn at church," saJd Eva, " and what we believe ; and it's a pity you don't. Doctor." '• Oh, well," said Dr. Campbell, lighting his cigar, previous to going out, " I won't quarrel with you. You might believe worse things. St. John is a good fellow, and, if he wants a doctor any time, I told him to call me. Good night." '* Did you ever see such a creature ] " said Eva. " He talks wild, but acts right," said Alice. " You had him there about visiting poor folks," said Jim. " Why, Campbell is a perfect fool about people in distress — would give a fellow watch and chain, and boots and shoes, and then scold anybody else that wanted to go and do like- wise. " Well, I say such discussions are fatiguing," said Alice. " I don't like people to talk all round the points of the compass so. " Well, to change the subject, I vote our evening a success," said Jim. " Didn't we all behave beautifully ! " ** We certainly did," said Eva. " Isn't Miss Dorcas a beauty ! " said Jim. " Come, now, Jim ; no slants," said Alice. " I didn't mean any. Honest now, I like the old girl. She's sensible. She gets such clothes as she thinks right and proper, and marches straight ahead in them, instead of draggling and draggletailing after fashion j and it's a pity there weren't more like her," 160 WK AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. dre«;it tak<, ,o much TSerS,'!'"""' *™*" "Jo^ »'•">* monqr. Now, if these LSnj^cZ',.,'''''"^'?''' ™'^'"«'' dressed women in the iwm tS n. ' il I''^" '^"^ »>«' beet "I want A LOST SHEEP. IGl CHAPTER XIX. A LOST SHEEP. THE two sallied out and walked arm in arm up the street. It was a keen, bright, starlight night, with everything on earth frozen still and hard, and the stars above sparkling and glinting like white flames in the intense clear blue. Just at the turn of the second street, a woman who had been crouching in a doorway rose, and coming up towards the two, attempted to take Harry's arm. With an instinctive movement of annoyance and disgust, he shook her off indignantly. Bolton, however, stopped and turned and faced the woman. The light of a street lamp showed a face, dark, wild, despair- ing, in which the history of sin and punishment were too plainly written. It was a young face, and one that might once have been beautiful ; but of all that nothing remained but the brightness of a pair of wonderfully expressive eyes. Bolton advanced a step towards her and laid his hand on her shoulder, and looking down on her said : " Poor child, have vou no mother ? " "Mother! Oh!"' The words were almost shrieked, and then the woman threw herself at the^bot of the lamp-post and sobbed convulsively. " Harry," said Bolton, " I will take her to the St. Barnabas ; they will take her in for the night." Then taking the arm of the woman, he said in a voice of calm authority, " Come with me." He raised her and offered her his arm. " Child, there is hope for you," he said. ** Never decpair. I will take you where you will find friends." A walk of a short distance brought them to the door of the refuge, where he saw her received, and then turning he retraced his steng to Harry, <' One more unfortunate," he said briefly, and then imme- 162 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. '* The old story, likely," said Bolton. What 18 curious," said Harry '' is that Eva described siml, It wt"if ''""'"" '^ '^r^^'^? ^^''"* ^"^ house J?eothe7e^^^^^^^^^^ It was the evening when she was going over to the VaXf' evTnW XL'^T?.^^ the oia^alies to come to us SL" evening. She seemed then to have been handm? about nnr house, and Eva spoke in particular of her eyes^^it such Z gular, wild dark eyes as this woman has ^ *' '^ '""■ havp LT^ * ""^'Z coincidence," said Bolton. " She may have had some errand on your street. Whatever the case b? her ^e'/l^ ^'''''''' '^^^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^e best they^ ti her She s only one more grain in the heap ! " 1' S?'^® *^ *^ adventure," he said. " What 1 to-night?" . Han-y here recounted the scene and Bolton's conrsfi an^ immediately Eva broke out : « There, Hai^ ?t nTt be that 22 ^voman that I saw the night I ;as ^ ng Stothe Van w nat can she be ? Tell me, Harry, had she verv brilliant dart eyes^nda sort of dreadfully ha^^krd, hopeffloSJr' ^ her S ^' "" ^ Y^^ provoked at her assurance in laying oy Its misery that I pitied her. You ought to have seen Bolton • W Tw i, a wonderful expression ; and his voice-you know that heavy, deep tone of his-when he spoke of her mother it perfectly overcame her. She seemed aS^oXonvulsed but he assumed a kind of authority and led her awav to Z ^!' Barnabas. Lnofeilv he knew a" -^^-t 'v - '• ^^ - - ^'^; With St, John about it." ""' '''' ""^ '^^^ ^^^^^ A LOST SHEEP. 163 " Yes, indeed, I heard them talking about it this very even- ing ; so it is quite a providence. I do wonder who she is or what she is. Would it do for me to go to-morrow and inquire 1 " « I don't know, my dear, as you could do anything. They will do all that is possible there, and I would not advise you to interfere merely from curiosity. You can do nothing." " Strange ! " said Eva, still looking in the fire while she was taking the hairpins out of her hair and loosening her neck rib- bon, " strange, the difference in the lot of women. That girl has been handsome ! People have loved her. She might have been in a home, happy like me, with a good husband — now there she is in the cold streets. It makes me very unhappy to think such things must be. You know how Bolton spoke of God, the Good Shepherd — how he cared more for one lost one than for all that went not astray. That is so beautiful — I do hope she will be saved." " Let us hope so, darling." " It seems selfish for me to wrap my comforts about me, and turn away my thoughts, and congratulate myself on my good luck— don't it 1 " " But, darling, if you can't do anything, I don't know why you should dwell on it. But I'll promise you Bolton shall all and inquire of the Sisters, and if there is anything we can do, he will let us know. But now it's late, and you are tired and need rest." I , I a i! ill 104 WK AND OUR NEIGHBOURS, CHAPTER XX. EVA TO HARRY'S MOTHER. C"''cS^^o':rj t "^ '"°""' • - '•ave had a sue to see our Kod?v Sr^„ ±1 '"' ' ""'t,'^ ""> Wpiness f^^'Ue E^t B *^ " °"°" **""*• y™ ■»"»' know. >■' lis •_ would sc»i-i'V dar« 1^ Tn • ti , • '* *•""'' » ™™an me»^s ofhop:"ud i'iv Cr^t^r- ^*' '""^ »'™y' Se"toritfcri* ■^'r-'.'-'d I am much StSed -o «ottoe.erta,onau,,.„u7.ud'„e„c""whi^"X;rytici" EVA TO HARRY'S MOTHER. 105 have had a suc- ne could hope ! quite as good '"ri In't want. You e real acquaiut- ssary that there cle. There are ioiistraint, as if len such people i the happiuess terms with our le other. Oh ' ed to introduce lad the satisfac- her, as well he low, IS , his : — r, has received ith her soon on custom of their es one or more in time devote er their super- es ; ti.dy go to link a woman t carry always V pr« paring to 1 interested in !y experiences e tei) porary; ) the visits of iuiiuiute, but ;« they excite, I what good purposes and resolutions spring up under their influ- ence, they refer to the organized charities of Christian churches of whatever name. If Sibyl's penitents are Romanists, she carries them to the Romish Sisters ; and so with Methodist, Baptist, or Ritualist, wherever they can find shelter and care. She si^ems to regard her mission as like that of the brave Sisters I of Charity who go upon the field of battle amid belching cannon I and bursting shells, to bring away the wounded. She leaves them in this or that hospital, and is off again for mure. This she has been doing many years, as the spirit within leads her, both in England and in this country. I wish you could see her — I know how you would love her. As for me, I look up to her with a kind of awe ; yet she has such a pretty, simple-hearted innocence about her. I felt a little afraid of her at first, and thought .al my pins and rings and little bows and fixtures would seem so many sins in her sight ; but I found she could admire a bracelet or a gem as much as I did, and seemed to enjoy all my pretty things for me. She says so prettily, "If thee acts up to thy light, Eva, thee can do no more." I only wish that I were as sure as she is that I do. It is quite sweet of her, and puts me at ease in her presence. They are going to be gone all this week on some mission. I dun't know yet exactly where, but I can't help feeling as if I wished some angel woman like Sibyl would take me off with her, and let me do a little something in this great anfl never fini hed work of helping and healing. I have alwa^ , had a lor ig to do a little at it, and perhaps, with some one to in- spu. ad guide me even I might do some good. This reminds me of a strange incident. The ether night, as I was crossing the street, I saw a weird-looking ytjung woman, very haggard and miserable, who seemed to be in a kind of uncertain way, hanging about our house. There was something about her face and eyes that affecte ue qnite pain- fully, but I thought nothing of it at the time. But, i ,j even- ing after our reception, as Harry and Bolton waxc walking about a square beyond our house, this creature came suddenly upon them and took Harry's arm. He threw her oflf with a suJden impulse, and then Bolton, like a good man, as he al- ways is, and With thiit GOrt of i£uiet self-posscooion ne always has, spoke to her and asked where her mother was. That word N- 166 '! (I WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. Tn^ ;r"'l '/'"';' u*'" poor tln,.g began sobbing a..cl crying, q^lff. ^""T^^^l Pr/u '^^''^ ^« ^«Pt ^y "'^"^e '^f our church Sisters, and thore he left her; and Harry says he will tell Mr. St. John about It, 80 that he may find out what can be done for her, if anything. Whe^ I think of meeting any such case personally, I feel how utterly weak and inexperienced I am, and how utterly ^bing and crying, le 8t. Barnabas, a ">me of our church le will tell Mr. St. t can be dono for personally, I feel and how utterly tny whole heart I )ple. I feel a sort \,m while any are been lately more nt you Caroline's I me such a pity other should be nmunion, that I t to bring them ) it. These men i to our hearts — to name the sub- it for the world. 18 not know how roman. In fact, hich BoUon was once mentioned vidently longing another, in fire- knd places when of what is to be nd, and all that ae. I, in short, going to let her could tell her ? ivriting volumes e made for each ibyrinth of life, ' what could be the clue, im, I can't help rhe diieuce aud written to Caroline ; and once letter- writing is begun, you see, the rest follows. Does it not 1 Now the thing is done, Harry is rather glad of it, as he usually is with the result of my conduct when I go against his advice and the thing turns out all nght ; and, what's of Hany better than that, when I get into a scrape by going against his counsels, he never says, " I told you so," but helps me out, and comforts me in the loveliest manner. Mother, dear, he does you credit, for you had the making of him ! He never would have been the husband he is, if you had not been the mother you are. You say you are interested in my old ladies across the way. Yes, I really flatter myself that our coming into this neigh- bourhood is quite a godsend to them. I don t know any that seemed to enjoy the evening more than they two. It was so long since they had been in any society, and their society power had grown cramped, stiff by disuse ; but the light and bright- ness of our fireside, and the general friendly cheerfulness, seemed to wake them up. My sisters are admirable assistants. They are society girls in the best sense, and my dear little mamma is never so much herself as when she is devoting her- self to entertaining others. Miss Dorcas told me, this morning, that she was thankful on her sister's account to have this pros- pect of a weekly diversion opened to her ; for that she had so many sorrows and suffered so much, it was all she could do at times to keep her from sinking in utter despondency. What her troubles could have been Miss Dorcas did not say ; but I know that her marriage was unhappy, and that she has lost all her children. But, at any rate, this acknowledgment from her that we have been a comfort and help to them gratifies me. It shows me that we were right in thinking that we need not run beyond our own neighbourhood to find society full of interest and do our little part in the kindly work of humanity. Oh, don't let me forget to tell you that that lovely, ridiculous Jack of theirs, that they make such a pet of, insisted on coming to the party to look after them ; waylaid the door, and got in, and presented himself in a striking attitude on an ottoman in the midst of the company, to Miss Dorcas's profound horror and our great amusement. Jack has now become the " dog of the regiment," and w<.» think of issuing a season ticket in his h 168 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. I ml c^feliibn'"-'^"'"'^ >"'' ''™' '•<"»''I» '» -ake f„„ and and arrangement i. mine to "ft^^^L't^ " combination having some nice domestic theorienut after -!?M^ "T"^"" ledge, and Mary's stwrifftl. .nj m duc alter ,il, Mary's know- the^^ndationTSfJli S^'sSurifwr-Of^t'; "" would be taste and beanty and refinement if I h»^7^/' "'" gence offices 1 Kowmon^SfT u' T' ^'*^°^ *^^^ i»t«"i- justice toT^ strong 'a^dtinrw^'*'' "'u"lf'"- ^°" ^"^ ' '''• JoWy praises%X' X Sij'rtrdol 'fitr ^' *"? beheve she truly loves mp v^ith oil ! u , *" *"^^ ^ nentalism, and yet there was about h^! deep and powerful undertone of filing thar^clinedh^i^ the same direction with Mr. St. John.^ There ar« In ^!J very strong men, whose natures gravitate towards Roman iiim '■! i BOLTON AND ST. JOHN. 171 ^th a force only p«tiaUy modified by intetlectud convictionB -. TJpl upon him in the unguarded penod °7»"*' " '^[l^^e ^poUon through his system and ,7»k™ed the p^^« ot the J, till alUhe earl er part of h« 1 ^^^f f^^-'titrtio^^rfter most mortifying failures. He h«d taUen 'rom at what time it might sweep over l^ii^. a^am^ ^ .iSVirSone^^^if^^tt^^^^^ muci The woman's tact at once dimed 'J^^is ^"^^ f^m Step to step in niutual '^™Mence tUl there^^^^^^^ ^^ . I , , i- -11- fnr^P" in "f*** hif.. 17^ WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. yiction entered bis soul To a r9i,ii««f increase of responsibility, with dS«f ^ ^.,?;g»ni^ation, the a species of torture. He feared MmfiP I ^^'^'^X ^° "^««* »*» w . wreck the life and ruin the We^nf'"^^ ^i''^"^^ «"«« °»ore to soul, who was devoS hers JftrhL^"'vl'*'^^ ^^*" ^" ««^« culating fidelity . ^ * '** ^'°* ^^^ » «^oman's uncaj- moIttrrt'iStl^^^^^^^^^^^^ --'^ness in his to wish with all hirheart thaTth/r'" f r^,?^^^^ ^'^ ^^"^^^ powerful church in whfch stm l.Lftf''^ .'""«^«» «f »» ««- Almighty God mighTbe a 'ea i^v "• '^\ T^^« P^«««««e of cried out for such! ^KSet-fo^'I I^'V" ^'oul sometimes bind and loose, with sacmmlfo ^- I * ^^^^^'^ ^^<>h Power to man weakness 'by suSS' ""^''^ «^o«W supplement hu^ petent to forgiveVn a^d to 'u Lf T' ^'^^ * Priesthood cm- and only becLe hS cLlr ^ef t«SiT?ntT ^' "^« «^«^P^y ^3 evidence of what he Wed t^-N '"*«"^g«"«e could see laith was wanting. ^ ''' ''^^'®^®' *^ the absolute He was not the onlv onp I'n ^u; struggle with life and sJlf and th« w ff'^l'"'?^ ^"^ hopeless memberedthSwastithvo^^^^ of his failures, here- in his mouth that LhadbelnTi r'^^^P'^^^'^^^agony temptation; that he had Wn '^^P* ^^^y by the burning from the very horns of the "LrTomer"'^ TI "^y^^'^i envy at those refuges which thTh.^-T^^^^ ^^ ^^^^^^ with those who are too weak to filhf ^u^u^ .^^"'^ P^^^id^s for thought, with a sense oi resfan]^^^^^^^^^^ *«d those religious retreats ww/^1''^' ""! ""<^«"»g «ome of to the direction of Inothl7and rH?^'';^^.^^^ ^^«^« heing personal free agericy atX'feet of S., ]^'*^"^\^>^>y^»^ down but an unconviiedVtl'c^L nattv^^^^^^^^ ^^^^"'^ the way of this entire self-surreX T J^ believe-stood in sought Mr. John's study to dTreot \i« ^^^?^«r«»n& he had the young woman whom he had L^ , Jttention to the case of night l>efore. ^^"^ '®^^"*d ^om the streets, the Bolton's own personal experipnn. .f u . f ... „„,u«i, vveaKuews and tmtion, the meet it, is ice more to m his own in's uncal- less in his led Bolton 1 of an all- resence of sometimes power to sment hu- lood c *m- 'as simply could see absolute 1 out for a visible id bring 't he re- of agony burning ipairing, ed with ides for le, and lome of le being ? down rothiug iood in lie had case of its, the IS and BOLTON AND ST. JOHN. 173 the tyranny of passion had made him intensely pitiful. He looked on the vicious and the abandoned as a man shipwrecked and swimming for his life looks on the drowning who are float- ing in the waves around him ; and where a hand was wantmg, he was prompt to stretch it out. There was something in that young, haggard face, those sad appealing eyes, that had interested him more P?werf«»^ than usual, and he related the case with much feeling to Mr bt. John! who readUy promised to call and ascertain, if possible, some'further particulars about her. ., „„:j 1,0 "You did the very best possible thing for he^ said he, « when you put her into the care of the Church. The Lhurch alone is competent to deal with such cases. Bolton ruminated within himself on the wild, diseased im- pulses, the morbid cravings and disorders the complete wreck of body and soul that comes of such a life ao th. -^-'*- "J^ led, and then admired the serene repose with which bt. John pronounced that indefinite power, the CHURCH, as competent - to cast out the seven devUs of the Magdalen. "I shall be very glad to hear good news of her he said , « and if the Church is strong enough to save such as she, l shall be glad to know that too." . ^ „, ^ v, "You speak in a sceptical tone, said bt. John. ^ "Pardon me ; I know something of the difficulties, physical and moral, which lie in the way," said Bolton. ^^ "To them that believe, nothing shall be impossible, said St. John, his face kindling with ardour. "And by the Church do you mean all persons who have the spirit of Jesus Christ, or simply that portion of them who wor- ship in the form that you do 1" "Come, now," said St. John, " the very form of your ques- tion invites to a long historic argument ; and I am sure you did not mean to draw that on your head. " Some other time, though," said Bolton// if you will under- take to convince me of the existence in this world of such a power as you believe in, you will find me certainly not unwil- ling to believe. But, this morning, I have but a brief time to spend. F.:i --veil, for the present." ■ ' mfi\ a hearty hand-shake the two parted. 174 WE AND OUJl NEIGHBOURS. ' CHAPTER XXII. BOLTON TO CAROLINE. I "4Sn"''&t^^^^^ myself needlessly on you ever a^ bligTt on a Kat St 0^^^^^^^^ '^^' ^ *^^^^ been thought mv onlv «vtS!*- ^ otherwise have been hapov I that silence. But of fate I h J« k ^ ^"^ P^°^*^ ^^^ Henderson, whose S is hkJ thn'" ""'"^ '^^'^^'^ "^'^ ^rs^ of-a peBble upon the bottnt. ^ ^•7^'*^"^"*' ^^^ ^^ read warmly and feerforX 80 svmnath'J^'^f- ..^^^ ^«ves you so sciously, when you pour vour?S ''*"^[^**'^^«^''«<^ "«con- revealed to me SroS th« f J ""^^ '°^^ ^^^ b^^^' they are I confess that I am sW so Jml"^'"^ °^'^^"^ ^^ ^^r nature! thought that you Innot forSf t/' r" ^''^ " ?^^^'^'^ ^ ^^^ never have forgotteHou I beiw; / '^"°«^^«'get you. I hour since that time Xn vour S u 7\^^"^ ^^«««i«»« house between you and me Thi 7 '^"*^ ^^^ ^«°^ ^^ lii« experience that therrm^y be a doubr""'''"'"^ ^^ ^^ «^'^ while going on, in which ye'el^eeonr^^^ "1! '*>« seem to pervade every scene of 1I?. v """"l P^''^^'^ should me, even in those mad fata? ««1 ' ^ou have been with from reason and consdenoM^T^'"' '^H'' ^ ^^^^ ^^en swept to my humiliationTnX ^e^ tf"~l^r- ^^^'^ ^^"^'^e^^ and courage to rise Sp^Lb anH " '-^ ^"V* ^^ ^^^^ °^^tive the fight that must iSt £ Innt ?fT ^"^ ^^^^^ ^^^ fight- is so.^ In somrcottTtut?onriu ^^^^^ ' ^ ^^^^^ this tions, the indiscretions and ign^^^^^^ predisposi- uremediable injurv Thonl?^^! • I ■ ^""^^^ ^^*^^ * ^^tal of inexpeiienoe-'S ignorance ^^^^ ^^V^' ^'^* P^^« ««« gives, The evil oncfdoTcl 1^1°'^? that nature never for- no entreaties, no resolS^ ^ T ^^ ""^^'^^ > »« P^-^yers, violated law/ "?h?£nid^^,t"£^^^^^ po.o«o„s sumulants, become thei^ersub;;ir;e;;;;:^aS BOLTON TO CAROLINE. 175 traitors, forever lying in wait to deceive and urging to ruin ; and he who is saved, is saved so as by fire. Since it is your unhappy fate to care so much for me, I owe to you the utmost frankness. I must teU you plainly that I am an unsafe man. I am like a ship with powder on board and a smouldenng tire in the hold. 1 must warn my friends off, lest at any moment I carry ruin to them, and they be drawn down in my vortex. We can be friends, dear friends ; but let me beg you, think as littte of me as you can. Be a friend in a certain degree, alter the manner of the world, rationally, and with a wise regard to your own best interests— you who are worth five hundred times what I am— you who have beauty, talent, energy— who have a career opening before you, and a mosi noble and tnie triend in Miss Ida ; do not let your sympathies for a very worthless individual lead you to defraud yourself of all that you should gain in the opportunities now open to you. Command my ser- vices for you in the literary line whenever they may be of the slightest use. Kemember that nothing in the world makes me so happy as an opportunity to serve you. Treat me as you would a loyal serf, whose only thought is to live and die tor YOU : as the princess of the middle ages treated the knight ot low degree, who devoted himself to her service. There is nothing you could ask me to do for you that would not be to me a pleasure; and all the more so, if it involved any labour or d&culty. In return, be assured, that merely by being the woman you are, merely by the love which you have given and still give to one so unworthy, you are a constant strength to me, an encouragement never to faint in a struggle which must last as lone as this life lasts. For although we must not forget that life, in the best sense of the word, lasts for ever, yet this farst mortal phase of it is, thank God, but short. There is another and a higher life for those whose life has been a failure here. Those who die fighting— even though they fall, many times trodden under the hoof of the enemy— will find themselve^ there made more than conquerors through One who hath loved In this age, when so many are giving up religion, hearts like vours and mine, Caroline, that know the real strain and anguisii of tiiiti present me, arc luc uiic= -^v. appr^.-.- "'"C- solute necessity of faith in the great hereafter. Without this, I I 1 176 ^1 ii (I WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. how cruel is life ! How hiff^r », and inexperience with ^hich humrnT ' ""J"'*' '^« ^««fc«e«s amid the grinding and claLhinr, n? . ^TP *^^ P"«hed forth operation they are ignorant ^L"f*T^ laws-laws of whZ orable I If ther. b '"ra 6ml^^^^^^^^^^ ^^"5^^^- are iS^S how dark is the prospect of this SfeT^nH'' t'"^''"^^^^^"*"'^, the ancients, many of the best nf It *"^ ^^««an wonder that one of the reserved rights of hnr! ^'"' ''^""dered suicide as ous faith, I certainly should T *" "J^'^'^ ^ Without relid the pleasure of spefig o vouT""^'"^ '^^ letter too long . but I forbear. ^ ^ "" y*"" <^«°»Pt8 me still to prolong it,' Everyou_rMevotedly, Bolton. ' CAROLINE TO BOLTON. My Dear Friend .• How can T f^o i SvT^^T" ineTn your lettf T ^'' '^' ^^««dence rn thinking that tliis long silence ha^ J " "^^'f "^* °»i«taken more cruel to a woman than i? ^^®° ^'^"el to me. It is cause if to him siC bet^, „^ ITJtT'^ ^^ '« ^ «»-" b that he has the power to bre^k it lf.1. «9°««ous all the time any time, but a woman must dl' ^u f *l' "S^<> *« «Peak at bemg says this. She crnnot speak l** ^^^^ ^^^e of her dumb animals suffer. ^^^^' '^« ^"st suffer as the I have, I confess, at times h^an k;** i • reserve, knowing, ^ I S that l^f^ 'y^^''''^ «f thi« long you once felt. I saw in our S^.^^"* ''''^ ^^^^ed to feel what you loved me still ] ""^^ interviews in Hfew York Tw whatever Z^ sotghtT be'hS^ '"^? *« ^^It^f::?; ^,t all you once Professed, S yet wer^^^^^^^^^^ '^'' ^O" ^It and treat with me on the calm hrZ T T"""®** *<> conceal it sometimes I was indignant :wS: te'ltT^ '^^"^^^^P' -^^ You see that such a coursp Z.l *"® injustice, one forget. To know%'Xdf 112 Tk" ["^«« *>^"^aking who never avows it is snmJh; P^f^^^^^tely beloved by another It gives rise to a ItlSt^iity^T '' '^' ^^-^m^n. peace. We can reconc^t omelve 'fnT*^"'"'' *"^ i« fatal to IS only when we are cS ed Zn 1 ^ *^^« to my cerlamty ; it possibilities, uncertain as vaZroul If^^^^^ ^"rselves to selves m fruitless efforts '^^P''"^^"^ ^o^ds, that we weary our- CAROTilNE TO BOLTON. 177 Your letter avows what I knew before ; what you often told me in our happy 6: : ; and I now say in return that I, like you, have never j^rjoUen ; that your image and presence have been to me as mine to you, over a part of my conscious- ness through all these years of separation. And now you ask me to change all this into a cool and prudent friendship, after the manner of the world ; that is to say, to take all from you, to accept the entire devotion of your heart and life, but be careful to risk nothing in return, to keep at a safe distance from your possible troubles, lest I be involved. Do you think me capable of this 1 Is it like me ] and what would you think and say to a friend who should make the same proposition to you 1 Put it to yourself; what would you think of yourself, if you could be so coldly wary and prudent with regard to a friend who was giving to you the whole devo- tion of heart and life ? . , . . t ^ i No, dear friend, this is all idle talk. Away with it ! I teel that I am capable of as entire devotion to you as I know you are to me ; never doubt it. The sad fatality which clouds your life makes this feeling only the more intense ; as we feel for those who are a part of our own hearts, when in suffering and danger. In one respect, my medical studies are an advantage to me. They have placed me at a stand-point where my judg- ment on these questions and subjects is different from those of ordinary women. An understanding of the laws of physical being, of the conditions of brain and nerve forces, may possibly at some futi:re day bring a remedy for such sufferings as yours. I look for this among the possible triumphs of science,- it adds interest to the studies and lectures I am pursuing. I shall not be to you what many women are to the men whom they love, an added weight to fall upon you if you fall, to crush you under the burden of my disappointments and anxieties and distresses. Knowing that your heart is resolute and your nature noble, a failure, supposing such a possibility, would be to me only like a fever or a paralysis,— a subject for new caic and watchfulness and devotion, not one for tears or reproaches or exhortations. There are lessons of the will that are no more to be con- sidered subject to moral condemnation than a strain of the spi- nal column or a sudden fall, from paralysis. It is a misfortune ; 178 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOUHS, rrZ^^^of:ZZrT]^^^^^^ to pursue the I can for your sake, 8inc?al T «n. ^ *¥ ""^'^ °^ "^V'^^f that I* Ihope that I am of LsTtoVoubL'nir.^ j^ ^'"^«- ^^^*^^y BeJiev. roe, dear, nothin/L «" hfS f ^.?\^°r "^ confidence m or the body as to have a^constnf^ ' the health of the mind W hension that cannot be spXen of to Til ^"^l\*^ ^"'^ ^PP^e- shut within itself becomTs a cave of Z^X'aI ^^^ "^^"^ tLs these unshared fears the«« K7^?• "^^^"^ ^''''^ors. T believe often fulfil their ^wiV^^dictnt^^^^ "^P-^rn mmd that they bring "'^""'^ »y the unhealthy states of ai^^^^^^^^^^ to be daily open.d and through them, to dispel sicklv daml ^ a?u^ ^"^'^t to shine and horrors, 'if I couirbe wfthTn*"^'^' °^^'"^^^ «^ f^ars presence should cheer voulvSr" ^"^ ««e you daily, my your faith in yourself/ ' ^ *'^^ '" >^°» «bould stren^hen moml%'^?;.^:;ameVt'VhTch^ sensitiveness of your poses yon to fS I thTn wu^' ^^^ ^^ dread a fail, ref ex- have I.,, dagger often hTnderins'i^ad '^ift-"' P^^««»« ^^o mam? ,m^,5ca St theirl^T^r *^?* ^''^P'"^ them by the is no way but to ' pTe un tb? *"",^t»«8: They think there danger and responsFiL? when^tb JV ^ "^."^'^^ ^^e sense of feeling now all the stS That humi''* ''' *^' ^"'^J^^t of it is cracking. ^" tfiat human nerves can feel without nalV^te^^^ 7rf Tf ^ ^^°i ^-^ -o- a plank across a chaLTthrsaSd^eet ?n^'"?.^- ^."* P"^ the swims. We have the same o^nlf • '^,.^«,Pth, and the head latter, the awfulness ofTe VsKd? '" ^"'^ '^''' ' ^"t in the amounts to a paralysis of the will "' ^ "'''^°"' ^^^^^ty that lonely broorng"'':^!^^^^^ ^"^^ T.^- by the horror of otherdi8ea^e,oWv ration^ you would the liabihty to any self in the d.&t^ZaL^^ f "P'^"\' *"^ ^4 your^ with friends who understand v?,? ""I ^Wf^etic intercourse Eva and Harry-^nobirw?" - ' - ", ^^'^-^ ^^^"- ^here are ^ , ^ru. ta^,,,,^, inaebted to you for many CAROLINE TO BOLTON 179 4 he sufferer mrsue the lyself that Already onfiUeiice. the mind nd appre- (lind tnu8 I believe inspoken, states of Qed and to shine of fears Uy, my engthen of your nre, ex- ns who by the £ there tense of of it is without ;ros8 a ut the } head in the ythat favours, and devoted to you with a loyal faithiulneris. Let their faith and mine in you strengthen your belief in yourself. And don't above all things, take any load of responsibility about mv happiness, and talk about being the blight and shadow on my life. I trust I am learning that we were sent into this world, not to clamour for happiness, but to do our part in a life-work. What matter is it whether I am happy or not, it I do my part 1 1 know all the risks and all the dangers that come from being identified, heart and soul, with the life ot another as I am with yours. I know risks, and am ready to face them. I am ready to live for and die for you, and count it all joy to the last. . , » , . u I v^as much touched by what you said of those wh' have died defeated yet fighting. Yes, it is my belief that uiany a poor soul who has again and again failed in the conflict h^ yet put forth more effort, practised more self-denial, than hundreds of average Christians ; and He who knows what the trial is, will judgo them tenderly— that is to say, justly. But for you there must be a future, even in this life. 1 am assured of it, and you must believe it ; you must believe with my faith, and hope in my hope. Come what will, 1 am, heart and soul, and forever, ^ . Yours, Caroline. fl '\l IT ror of any your- ourse •e are many ] IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) ^<^'A- <5> 1.0 I.I 11.25 La 12-8 ■^ |» |3j2 1^ •f US £ Its, i^ kuuu LI u 1.6 150mm V 6> W ^; y / /APPLIED J IIVMGE . Inc .ss , 1653 East Main street .s^s -^ Rochester, NY 14609 USA .i^= '^ Phone: 716/482-0300 .^^.SS Fax: 716/288-5989 1993, Applied Image. Inc.. All Rights Reserved at »d moat worthy^; be the^S^n rft''..^..™'" «'<•»". be known by thHar/of" „ch?Sti'"'° '^ "^ " »"J«. ^ Pwuhar livery to mark tf,«,v .™ P""""™ saint, and wearing a moniala such « to Aem sXISf'i "'■^.';»"»« rit«» and ce^ work is hard enouJh .„ J P'"' '"^ ""« end- Surely the thereof to do iUnteir-otn":;? Tt' '? Tf'^ "•«^»^" Md to have any sort otiZ^/hZ ^?u '^' "''3' •>««« ««>, ""Yet" the"!^ ?^^ ~ Sd^&: "" ™y "f "«»» ^d ^^ltt^^lt?n7r:^J^>^^ o^P-^ - a sort of and, in short, for a hundrTlitfr '-^^^ ^°^"g ^^^^^e altars, was held that a proper ze^ for VT*f ^^ .^^^^^^ i and it ejection from a c&&Zi^:\l^^'J^S^l^ if'^^'^^ '^'^ Chnstian mildness, they wefe'tTkinf' ^ ?"ch patience and teaching neglected Weet chrrenllfrfM^ -'^l ^^^^^ »»d with a committee of ladies eSiv .^ ^/^^aWouvermans, church and excited aCt tKLf *TJ^'**^"^^^«' <>fthe the refuge and pursued the inm.^*- ^''^^'^' ^^^ ^^^^ed sleeping apartme^J^of The Sietru^^^^^^^ *" *^« P"^^'^ of prmcipfe or practice that ^vSAf ^°^.®^*'J^ symptom of the Scarlet Woman and a?S! ^^^PP^^^h to the customs "uian, and, as the result of relentI««o i^Q.^s^ & THE SISTERS OF ST. BABNABAS. 181 ii tion and much vigorous catechising, she and her associates made such reports as induced the Committee of Supervision to withdraw the charity from the Sisters of St. Barnabas, and place it in other hands. The Sisters, thus ejected, had sought work in other quarters of the great field of human suffering and sorrow. A portion of them had been enabled by the charity of friends to rent a house to be devoted to the purposes of nursing destitute sick children, with dormitories also where homeless women could find temporary shelter. The house was not a bit more conventual or mediaeval than the most common-place of New York houses. It is true, one of the parlours had been converted into a chapel, dressed out and arranged according to the preferences of these good women. It had an altar, with a gilded cross flanked by candles, which there is no denying were sometimes lighted in the day-time. The altar was duly dressed with white, red, green, violet or black, according as the traditional fasts or feasts of the Church came round. There is no doubt that this simple chapel, with its flowers, and candles, and cross, and its little ceremonial, was an immense comfort and help to these good women in the work that they were doing. But the most rigid Protestant, who might be stumbled by this little attempt at a chapel, would have been melted into accord when he went into the long bright room full of little cribs and cradles, where child invalids of different ages and in different stages of convalescence were made happy amid flowers, and toys, and playthings, by the ministration of the good women who wore the white caps and the large crosses. It might occur to a thoughtful mind, that devotion to a work so sweetly unselfish might well entitle them to wear any kind of dress, and pursue any kind of method, un- challenged by criticism. In a neat white bed of one of the small dormitories in the upper part of this house, was lying in a delirious fever the young woman whom Bolton had carried there on the night of our story. The long black hair had become loosened by the restless tossing of her head from side to side ; her brow was bent in a heavy frown, made more intense by the blackness of her eyebrows ; her large, dark eyes were wandering wildly to and fro over every object in the room, and occasionally fixing themselvAR with a strange look of iiinuirv on the Sister who. ii " I Mmmmmumgitm 182 WE AND OUR NEIOHBOUr«S. " Quiet !m« be quiet !— that's pretty well' Mei" »„H .k. buret into weak, hysteric laughter ' ' *""■ "''* wit'h wUdt'"""* *' ^'""' ■"*»« 'oothms motions ^J''^°'^""*'""« "y^ "'<««' » few momente in a feveAh "■Zfhi", * "T"?' r"*' *^ '"""od with a wUd look. Mother I mother where are vou « I ™,.'( «_j i. looked and looked till I'm T & Ldlo^^T'^ '™ ^?r -.r ^^.}?r ''» '^'^ ' ■^'•^e ,ir^ r/thCw Then, m a sweet low voice, she began singin|Thymn : " J^TiB, lover of my soul. Let me to thy bosom fly, -St., ®, D»"ow8 near me rolL While the tempest still is h^h." As she sung, the dark sad eyes fixed themselves nnr. . with a vague, troubled questioning. The SiS went o^', " ™nvi wS' ^ "y Saviour, hide, m th9 storm of life is past, »Me mto the haven guide. Oh, receive my soiJ at last." It wasjuso day-dawn, and the patieut had waked from a teke^the place of the one who had watched for the last C "How is she »" she said. ) THA SISTEiiS OF ST. BAKNABAS. 183 ingifig the ^r parched the Sister her fore- in reply ; ' and she i motions * feverish look. ou. I've find you. md threw nd spoke tnn : ipc OK , I from a en given ? faintly )ftly, to last four ) " Quite out of her head, poor thing. Her fever is very high." " We must have th«i doctor," said the other. " She looks like a very sick girl." " That she certainly is. She slept, under the opiate, but kept starting, and frowning, and muttering in her sleep ; and this morning she waked quite wild." " She must have got dreadfully chilled, walking so late in the street — so poorly clad, too ! " With this brief conversation, the second sister assumed her place by the bedside, and the first went to get some rest in her own room. As day grew brighter, the singing of the matins in the chapel came floating up in snatohes ; and the sick girl listened to it with the same dazed and confused air of inquiry with which she lo'>ked on all around. " Who is singing," she said to herself. " It's pretty and good. But how came I here ] I was so cold, so cold — out there ! — and now it's so hot. Oh, my head ! my head ! " A few hours later, Mr. St. John called at the Eefuge to in- quire ofter the new inmate. Mr. St. John was one of the patrons of the Sisters. He had contributed liberally to the expenses of the present establish- ment, and stood at all times ready to assist with influence and advice. The Refuge was, in fact, by the use of its dormitories, a sort of receiving station for homeless aud desolate people, where they might find temporary shelter, where their wants might be in- quired into, and help found for them according to theii* need. After the interview with Bolton had made him acquainted with the state of the case, Mr. S*. John went immediately to the Refuge. He was received in the parlour by a sweet-faced, motherly woman, with her 'vhite cap and black robe, and with a large black cross depending from her girdle. There was about her an air of innocent sanctity and seclusion from the out- door bustle of modern life that was refreshing. She readily gave him an account of the new inmate, whose sad condition had excited the sympathy of all the Sisters. She had come to them, she said, in a state t>f most woful agitation and distress, haviag walked the streets on a freezing M 184 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. night till a late hour, in very insufficient clothine. Immediat«lv on being received she began to have violent chSs'fdW^bv S;^wUdf;: "' '*' *"^" ^^ "^S^* ^«-S rSd^^lnJ hJ^l^ "?oraing, they had sent for the doctor, who pronounced her ma brain fever, and in a condition of gr^at daS Sh« LZT "* '' '" '^'' '""^ ^^"^^ ^'^ no'SlnaSounf 0? Sister '"fchiiS ,^'*?''' ^^ "P^." her mother," said the akmt her." P''^*^' ^'' °'^**^"'' ^ distressing herself nf JJli. ^\j''^''Vromked to secure the assistance and sympathy aL T\^°7^^'"* ''^"."" *^ *i^ *»»« S^ters in theirTha*«f and took his leave, promising to call daily. ^' EVA TO HARRY'S MOTHER. 185 mediately llowed by lasly and enounced Br. She 3count of said the g herself nnpathy charge, "l CHAPTER XXIV. EVA TO HARRY'S MOTHER. * MY Dear Mother': When I wrote you last we were quite prosperous, having just come through with our first evening as a great success ; and everybody since has been saying most ^eable things to us about it. Last Thursday we had our second, and it was even pleasanter than the last, because people had got acquainted, so that they really wanted to see each other again. There was a most charming atmosphere of ease and sociability. Bolton and Mr. St. John are getting quite intimate. Mr. St. John, too, develops quite a fine social talent, and has come out wonderfully. The side of a man that one sees in the church and the pulpit is after alii only one side, as we have discovered. I find that he has quite a gift in con- versation, when you fairly get him at it. Then, his voice for singing comes into play, and he and Angle and Dr. Campbell and Alice make up a quartette quite magnificent for non-protes- sionals. Angle has a fine soprano, and Alice takes the con- tralto, and the Doctor, with his great, broad shoulders and deep chest, makes a splendid bass. Mr. St. John's tenor is really very beautiful. It is one of those penetrating, sympathetic voices that indicate both feeling and refinement, and they are all of them surprised and delighted to find how weU they go to- gether. Thursday evening they went on from thing to thing, and found that they could sing this and that and the other, till the evening took a good deal the form of a musical reunion. Jiut never mind, it brought them acquainted with each other and made them look forward to the next reunion as something agreeable. Ever since, the doctor goes round humming tunes, and says he wants St. John to try the tenor of this and that, and really has quite lost sight of his being anything else but a musical bro- ther. So here is the common ground 1 wanted to find between The doctor has told Mr. St. John to call on him whenever he fjiumrrrr ' i """""""'BMFJ: • 186 WE AND OUIl NEIOHB0UH8. and Boh^T ' '"."^"i *" "y^' letter allut a girt Zt Ham, Alije have also taken tCf t«™. \'°,^"ftL"°„^ I told you we bad been to help nurse the poor eirl at fcb« excellent nurse, I took her there U>^si^t\"te7.t^7inmy flT/'l ^ "!?'* '*'^"S« ««^"« «°«"«d- The moment M^ looked on her, she recognized her own daughter who had I^ her some years ago with a bad man. Mary ffniver sDoken to me of this daughter, and I only knew in fls^^^J ^ i way, that she had^eft W mothe7ulTi%"^fu fS^^^ stances The recognition was dreadfully agitatW to MrJ and to the poor girl ; indeed, for some tiLelwi feared thit the shock would produce a relapse. The SisteTs savTw tH« Kress."" has been constantl^ calling for ^fmoZrt W It really seemed, for the time, as if Marv were ^oina f^ \^ wholly unnerved. She has a gr'eat deTli71 fes^Sbte ^fFf0s^m'ivvmm»m^e'i*m.. AUNT MAllIA ENDEAVOURS TO SET MATTERS RIOHT. 189 CHAPTER XXV. AUNT MARIA ENDEAVOURS TO SET MATTERS RIGHT. MRS. MARIA WOUVERMANS was one of those forces in creation to whom quiet is impossible. Watchful- ness, enterprise and motion were the laws of her existence, as incessantly operating as any other laws of nature. When we last saw her, she was in high ill-humour with her sister, Mrs. Van Arsdel, with Alice and Eva, and the whole family. She revenged herself upon them, as such good crea- tures know how to do, by heaping coals of fire op their heads in the form of ostentatiously untiring and uncalled-for labours for them all. The places she explored to get their laces mended and their quillings done up and their dresses made, the pilgrim- ages she performed in omnibuses, the staircases she climbed, the men and women whom she browbeat and circumvented in bargains -all to the advantage of the Van Arsdel purse— wer^ they not recounted and told over in a way to appal the con- science of poor, easy Mrs. Van Arsdel, whom they summarily convicted of being an ineflficient little know-nothing, and of her girls, who thus stood arraigned for the blackest ingratitude in not appreciating Aunt Maria 1 " I'll tell you what it is Alice," said Eva, when Aunt Maria's labours had come to the usual roaxof such smart people, and laid her up with a sick-headi^che, " we girls have just got to make up with Aunt Maria, or she'll tear down all New York. I always notice that when she's out with us she goes tearing about in this way, using herself up for us— '«7«^''« ^h^n ^« are out with her." ing .SL75eV,^iSg7o.^""'« ''''' ^"" ""^^ '^ ^^->'« •-- tril^oft'htfir!;^r^"''.™'"''**'\^'- St. John's sermons on the would hav« L n^M""*"/T"^"" ^' "^^^^ "« *" ^♦•^^l t»'«t it Religion r * '""^ '^^"'' *^ S" ^^ ^^^« «^«^« f'^r our '' Woli \^^.^?'*«"'^T*'T l^"'^ * ^^«*^ exaltation." and more difficult, to put down our own temper and make the first concession to an unreasonable old aunt who reSv loves us than to be martyrs for Christ. Nobody wants us to be mar Ind Ce n'oX;'"' ' '^k^"'i ^'"^ ^*""«'^^"^^ m^ no sho" w w n ^ «^°ry /';« a harder cross to take up." momYnt'ofln' ^^ ^."V^ ^°,? ''^y'" ^^i'i Alice, after a few moments of silence, " for really you speak the truth I don't peZnTho'^r^^fr ''^." 'V^'r"^ make concessions to a who wilT t«i u^^ ^ "d^cu lously as Aunt Maria has, and hS side/' ^''"' "^^''^^^'^^^ ^nd never own a word on Derfe^'%h!f ' ""^^S^ *^^^"^ ^" ^^"'" «*«^« ^«' ^hat T am not Sui rLhI fnrU'^ ""T '"'"^i' *^^"S« ^^«^« I didn't do no IS- SrV^. 'r'^i'*^'' ^ ^"^ *« ^° ^^^ confessing that's sTn« fh ■ ^^^^ ^.*^r' '° ^^ i« '« «»t loose from my own sins ; they are mine, and hers are hers." ^ tn Annf m'*-"^ ^of '■ " ^^*^ ^^^ *'*«* '« ^ ^^^ speak improperly Li^the tt'Z T 15' n.'^^r '^'" ^ "™- ^ «"g»^^ not toLve tTan I mean " "^ ^"^^ ^'""P"'"^' ^"^ ^^*-^« ^^^ °^o^« " ^«"' Ally, do as I did- confess everything you can think nL? '^?'a^' ^i ^^^' '^^*y°" °^"«^ «^i" ^« fir'n upon one friends ^1."'^' "P*"" '' "^""^ ^^"* ^"^ ^« g^^d to be A,If M^^T'**'''" ^*^i^^, *« *" amelioration which caused Aunt Maria to appear ai Eva's second re-union in her best point lace and with her most affable comi^auy manners, whereby she quite won the heart of simple i^rs. Betsey Benthusen, and^ was AUNT MARIA ENDEAVOURS TO SET MATTERS RIOIIT. 191 received with patronizing civility by MIhh Dorctw. That k<)«»«1 lady surveyed Mrs. Wouvormans with an amicable scrutiny a» ft specimen of a really creditable production of modern New York life She took occasion to remark to her sister that tlie Wouverraans were an old family of unquestioned position, and that really Mrs. Wouvermans had acquired quite the tam- ' ^Mim Dorcas was one of those people who sit habiuially on thrones of judgment and see the children of this world pa^s before them, with but one idea to determine what she should think of them. What they were likely to thmk of her, was no part of her concern. Her scrutinies and judgments were extremely quiet, tempered with groat moderation and Chris- tian charity, and were so seldom spoken to anybody else that they did no one any harm. ^ She was a spectator at the grand theatre of lite ; it interested and amused her to watch the acting, but she kept her opinions, for the most part, to herself. The re-unions at Lva s were be- coming most interesting to her as widening her sphere of ob- servation In fact, her intercourse with her sister could hardly be called society, it was so habitually that of a nurse with a patient. She said to her, of the many things which were in her mind, only those which she thought she could beiu:. She was always planning to employ Mrs. Betsey's mind with varied occupations to prevent her sinking into morbid gloom, and to say only such things of everybody and everythmg to her as would tranqualise and strengthen her. To Miss Dorcas the little white-haired lady was still the beautiful chdd of past days —the indiscreet, flighty, pretty pet, to be watched, nursed, governed, restrained and cared for. As for conversation m the sense of an unrestricted speaking out of thoughts as they arose, it was long since Miss Dorcas had held it with any hu- man being. The straight, tall old clock in the corner was not more lonely, more self-contained and reticent. The next day after the re-union. Aunt Maria came at the ap- pointed hour, with all due pomp and circumstance, to make her call upon the two sisters, and was received in kid gloves m the best parlour, properly darkened, so that the faces ot the parties could scarcely be seen ; and then the three remarked upon the weather, the state of the atmosphere to-day, and it^ probable ■ ■ 'WKiw * ' *' 192 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. hands, the specimen of W powe^^S^,,"?' ^^.^ ^^'^^ ^^ ^e? her for the field of life ; andTn he^ dS^.f f '^ ^°/ " WP«d hy sort a result of her maiagement Tf T k '''''^^'' *« ^^^ «ome those who ai^ ever calle^f^^!' .1 ^F ^® * consolation to Maria, that if th^y oX hddTn 1T*^ ^°°^ *"g«^« «ke Aunt their own independent w«vfi? *"^ ^^e^come them, and hold will immediatX^«umr?J; :^K '?^'^' ?^ ^^^ ^^"^ being angry -hole, Aunt nLThe^L t tll^S? ^^ «**^^ '««"^*- ^^^h^ Mrs. Henderson's ovT fouse and .if' ^-"'""^ *^^«g« of pluming herself visibly g thrmarner.^'""""^ evenings,^was she o:,ld^^oI\^^^^^^^ which kmdly on her, hid telkS^ ove^LT V-"" *n'' '"^° ^^^^ed Maria's objections to her soilLs and^^ V^'^' **^ ^"°<^ against them, the good kdv w^' * • ., *'®' stringent advice sumption of ierit. ^ ™ ^"'^^^^ »°^»sed at this as- "Isn't this the 'ITn^jy^ria' fK«fj 'T.^^^*^ ^«'««« out telling you aboutXt Se all ttl^^'!'- Henderson was receptions 1" ^® *^^ *hose objections to her little them ''* *^'" ^'^^^^ ' «he really talks now as if she had started hindr^^tets:^^^^^^^ *^^»^' ^ ^^ey find they can't 3ucce»::JS^tr^^o^^^^^^ "nothing «^erst^dWd^:H:»^ In fact. Aunt M^a ™ f„\ ' """'' *^*^« «**^d it herseT'' frame about thLlSe HrfitrorT^^^ ^""^"« ^^^ genial the fft^fui ««u^i. -i. ,• . "®' nts of petulance ffene~]!° Hs^ of oKwrL-'sora^ *^"^''<'™-- w!L' ,t ';!'Sf>'»Vl'S?S(!.3»»Jf»is as- i AUNT MARTA ENDEAVoURS TO SET MATTERS RIGHT. 19S The only difficulty about these charming periods of general reconciliation was that when the good lady once more felt her- self free of the family, and on easy terms all around with everybody, she immediately commenced m some new direction Z^proce^s of managing other people's affairs which was an inevitoble result of her nature. Therefore she came ?ne afte^ noon not long after, into her sister's dressing-room ^^h an a^ of preoccupation and mystery, which Mrs. Van Arsdel had lear^ned to Lad as a sign that Maria had something new upon ^'Shutttg the doors caiefuUy, with an air of g^eat Precaution and importance, she said : " Nelly. I've been wanting to tal^ to you f something will have to be done about Eva: it will never do to let matters go ou as they -- going. Mrs. Van Arsdel's heart began to ...k within her ; she sup posed that she was to be required in some way to meddle or Fnterfere with her daughter Now if ^nythmg was to b^^^^^^^ of an unpleasant nature, Mrs. Van Arsdel had always tar rather th^t Maria would do it herself B.t the most Perplex^ ine of her applications were when she began stirring up her I Je-loving, indulgent self to fulfil any such puy^s on her children. So she said, in a faltering voice, " What «s the '"^.^Wer^K^ld you think 1" said Mrs. Wouvennan«' emphasizing the words. "You know that good-for-nothing daughter of Mary's that lived with me,^ years ago t "That handsome girll To be sure. _„!,«„ t think « Handsome ! the baggage ! I've no Patience when I t^mk of her, with her airs and graces ; dressing so that she reaiiy was mistaken for one of the famUy! And such impertience ! I made her walk Spanish very quick ' "Well, who do you suppose this sick girl is that Angehque and Alice have been helping take care of in the new hospital, or whatever you call it, that those Popish women have started "^Now Mrs. Van Arsdel knew very well what Aunt, Maria was coming to, but she only said, faintly, *' Well 1 " 1.94 WK AND OUR NEIGHBOTJRS. " Its just that sir] anri r,« ^4U and huz^ d<«,„.f uV^.'' "" "*'''■. a-d a more impudent tramp „ "Sh34'r 3ith*Xg>: -« Mrs. Van Ar.dol. Eva act„au/has SlenlhiWut ♦" ^l *>" "«" «»'* «1I. tolet her stay there." **""^ *° '«''■ '><>"8<'. and is going ."hen, in glowing and tSi'^f sympathetically to Eva intention of givi„°, X Cl . "°''<'^' '^^ had avowed hi? ^dthisohanlyreSierSt? '° * P""''' bewilderld mother mpping atmosphere^S MlriTr^"^."'''/''' ••>" *» """harp; sense the thing looked so nSw-^T^' ^'y' ^e'Ssh common braided this faint inqui'^ """^•^ -ndefensible that she only She h2 been''gttt,W^d'''?;?°1 "'^ «" 'hat Ma^-'s art means to get S |f„ H.'^S'' ™ ' ''hat she was Zd ^J ^orantanVinntnJ'asltTv "e""" Tt" ^^ "hoi no more fit to manaae th»n f, \ ?'". ""^ her husband are set of people wiU Se ihem „? ^^! '" *« """ds, and tS perfect witch, and U wil nTv^do inll,'™'''''?;. ^h^ SW *» a ' alt'lSl f "^^ "horL'^dCr^."-'"' y" ought to b«U^^S.:;is\tt^!l*t^^etehe.e,^^^^^^^ ?J«-re^rstrg'if^'^^-^^^^ Ihat's none of our look out t or refuges or something or other forTr '^''' ^^e asylums, But If the Sisters could tltJ' l • ''^ creatures." I'm sure Eva might keen w ^T-,^®*" '" ^""^ take care of her enough to find sfmelJLe'''"^^^^^ -■w'5fi!^ia«i.,i^,,i^ , AUNT MARIA ENDKAVOirRS TO SET MATTERS RIGHT. 195 Mr. St. John and his goings on up there, and I foresee just what trouble Eva is going to be got into by having that sort of creature put in upon her. Maggie was the most conceited, im- pertinent, saucy hussy I ever saw. She had the best of all chances in my house, if she'd been of a mind to behave herself, for I give good wages, pay punctually, and mine is about as good a house for a young woman to be trained in as there is. Nobody can say that Maggie didn't have a fair chance with me ! " " But really, Maria, I'm afraid that unless Mary can take care of her daughter at Eva's she'll leave her altogether and go to housekeeping, and Eva never would know how to get along without Mary." " Oh, nonsense ! I'll engage to find Eva a good stout girl — or two of them, for that matter, since she thinks she could afford two — that will do better than Mary, who is getting older every year and less capable. I make it a principle to cut off girls that have sick friends and all such entanglements and responsi- bilities, right away ; it unfits them for my service." ** Yes, but, Maria, you must consider that Eva is not like you. Eva really is fond of Mary, and had rather have her there than a younger and stronger woman. Mary has been an old servant in the family. Eva has grown up with her. She loves Eva like a child." " Oh, pshaw ! " said Aunt Maria, " Now, of all things, don't be sentimental about servants. It's a little too absurd. We are to attend to our own interests ! " " But you see, sister," said Mrs. Van Arsdel, " Eva is just what you call sentimental, and it wouldn't do the least good for me to talk to her. She's a married woman, and she and her husband have a right to manage their aflfairs in their own way. Now, to tell the truth, Eva told me about this affair, and, on the whole " — ^here Mrs. Van Arsdel's voice trembled we^y — " on the whole, I didn't think it would do any good, you know, to oppose her ; and really, Maria, I was sorry for poor Mary. You don't know, you never had a daughter, but I couldn't help thinking that if I were a poor woman, and a daughter of mine had gone astray, I should be so glad to have a chance given her to do better ; and so I really couldn't find it in my heart to oppose Eva." 196 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. 4 wi,"W /**?'" ^ what'Ucome of it" said Annf nr • who had stood, a model nf h^TA ci. * ^^^^ Mana, mon-sense, looW hS silt^ d^l^^ uncompromising com^ for the higher wisim F^r ^^J^T^f weakapology' wisdom of the cross is fooSnesIt^Aa • "^^^j ""^ ^*^' *»»« the world ; and the heaven f^Sm^^^^^^ ^'^^^''^ «^ ost sheep more than t^ ninety an^^^^^ 7^'^ 'T'' *^« ^»« ;s still the arithmetic, not of 'efrtllurof tavln "Th^''^' many who believe in the Trinitv an^ fK. ?®*^®°- . There are the articles of the AthanasiaiinH Sr; ***^J"«a™ation, and all wisdom of the MafterTcortSd ^Sy^^^t rlh^^^ *^^^ manunder«tandethnotthethmesSth«L„/ r^^ ^**"^ feSLe^r^ ^"^S-SS. »■"""■'* <''««« "P«-en of the their fi^ fi^oie, and'SS'el^^'CS''" '" """•"" "^ shawl in' ^S.lMdfl*?Art *•?""« 'i'' «"'«»-'«' thought I SouW come to^rLt L^^"?,v*°"'?.°"' "^ proper person to taUt to F™ . k,f.' f ^ . ^ *"* *« n">8t dm^£ei.n'^J:i5„;°^;i t/,^-fc;^«eg^ ^o" with the Wmiinh^'as^'d'* ^" •"■?' "^ «^«» «™ y«»« the houseTdTim Toinf tJ^t^ permission to advertise from engage reVproJaS^fo tttj'tf Ev."l.'°™''^ T* ?«'• "<• leasSi, there may iTt^.^ fo*V " T ^ f """"i *° '"««'> «» once. I've nSde m. J^l,^ !i .1' .'" '"PP"? Marjr-s place at mis^ofEvShottdli"'"'''^' " 'f «k« -«« 'he surl it"wZ?'do ilf/giS""'^* " ■""* '«"»"«. M*™^ I'" or;^Si^^;jxri':„:??^, '""" »"'^;"»'"« « -« Neli^r I ma/nof ^^ appreoi::J^'lTdrt-:^Ti^^''i AUNT MARIA ENDEAVOURS TO SET MATTERS RIGHT. 197 shall not swerve from my duty to you ; at any rate, it's my duty to leave no stone unturned, and so I shaU start out at once for the Willises. They are going to Europe for a year or two, and want to find good places for their servants." And so Mrs. Van Arsdel, being a little frightened at the suggestions of Aunt Maria, began to think with herself that perhaps she had been too yielding, and made herself very un- comfortable in reflecting on possible evils that might come on Eva. She watched her sister's stately, positive, determined figure as she went down the stairs with the decision of a general, gave a weak sigh, wished that she had not come, and, on the whole, concluded to resume her story where she had left off at Aunt Maria's entrance. I'm 1.08 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. CHAPTER XXVI. SHE STOOD OUTSIDE THE GATE. always pefecllv clSi w ^'"f ""^ "8^* ^"'^ ^^rong were kind L^trthTnt ?K . Vu^^ *'^ ^^PP^ «^ f^^ <^o believe in our On the other hand, Eva waa possessed by an earnest desire f SHE STOOD OUTSIDE THE GATE. 199 to make her religious profession mean something adequate to those startling and constantly recurring phrases in the Bible and the church service which spoke of the Christian as a being of a higher order, led by another Spirit, and living a higher . life than that ofthe world in general. Nothing is more trying to an ingenuous mind than the conviction of anything like a sham and a pretense in its daily life. Mr. St. John had lately been preaching a series of sermons on the history and customs of the primitive church, in hearing which the conviction often forced itself or aermind that it wjw the unworldly life of the first Christians which gave victorious power to the faith. She was intimately associated with people who seemed to her to live practically on the same plan. Here was Sibyl Selwyn, whose whole life was an exalted mission of religious devotion ; there was her neighbour Ruth Baxter, as- sociated as a lay sister with the work of her more gifted fri -ad Here were the Sisters of St. Barnabas, lovely, cultivated wo- men who had renounced all selfish ends and occupations in life to ^ve themselves to the work of comforting the sorrowful and saving the lost. Such people, she thought, fully answered to the terms in which Chiistians were spoken of in the Bible. But could she, if she lived only to brighten one little spot of her own, if she shut out of its charmed circle all sight or feeling of the suffering and sorrow ofthe world around her, and made her own home a little paradise of ease and forgetfulness, could she be living a Christian life ? When, therefore, she heard from the poor mother under her roof the tale of her secretly-kept shames, sorrows, and struggles for the daughter whose fate had filled her with misery, she ac- cepted with a large-hearted inconsiderateness a mission of love towards the wanderer. She carried it to her husband ; and, like two kind-hearted generous-minded young people, they resolved at once to make their home sacred by bringing into it this work of charity. Now, this work would be far easier in most cases, if the smner sought to be sa . : would step forthwith right across the hue, and behave henceforth like i saint. But unhappily that IS not to be expected. Certain it was, that Maggie, with her great, black eyes and her wavy black hair, was no saint. A petted, indulged child, with a strong, ungovernable nature she N 200 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. had been whirled hither and thither in the tides of passion, and now felt less repentance for sin than indignation at her 'own wrongs. It might have been held a hopeful symptom that Ma«gie had, at least, so much real truthfulness in her as not to profess what she did not feel. It was a fact that the constant hymns and prayers and services of the pious Sisters wearied her. They were too high for her. The calm, refined spirituality of these exalted natures was too far above her, and she joined their services at best with a patient acquiescence, feeling the while how sinful she must be to be so bored by them. But for Eva she had a sort of wondering, passionate admira- tion. When she fluttered into her sick room, with all her usual httle graceful array of ribbons and fanciful ornament, Magde's dull eye would brighten, and she looked after her wi3i de- lighted wonder. When s^^e spoke to her tenderly, smoothed her pillow, put cologne on her laced handkerchief and laid it on her brow, poor Maggie felt awed and flattered by the attention, far more, it is to be feared, than if somebody more resembhng the traditional angel had done it. This lively spn^htly httle lady, so graceful, so pretty in all her motions and m all her belongings, seemed to poor worldly Maggie much more nearly what she would like an angel to be, in any world where she would have to live with them. The Sisters, with their black robes, their white caps, and their solemn prayers, seemed to her so awfully good that their presence chilled her. She felt more subdued, but more sinful and more hopeless with them than ever. In short, poor Maggie was yet a creature of this world, and of sense, and the spiritual world to her was only one dark, con- fused blurr, rather more appalling than attractive. A life like that of the Sisters, given to prayer and meditation and good works, was too high a rest for a soul growing so near the ground and with so few tendrils to climb by. Maggie could conceive of nothmg more dreary. To her, it seemed like being always thinking of her sms j and that topic was no more agreeable a subject of meditation to Maggie than it is to any of us. Many people seem to feel that the only way of return for those who have wandered from the paths of virtue is the most immediate and utter self-abasement. There must be no effort at self-justifica- SHE STOOD OUTSIDE THE GATE, 201 tion, no excusing one's self, no plea for abatement of condem- nation. But let us Christians who have never fallen, in the grosser sense, ask ourselves if, with regard to our own particular sms and failings, we hold the same strict line of reckoning. Do we come down upon ourselves for our ill temper, for our selfish- ness, for our pride, and other respectable sins, as we ask the poor girl to do who has been led astray from virtue 1 Let us look back and remember how the Master once coupled an immaculate Pharisee and a fallen woman in one sentence as two debtors, both owing a sum to a creditor, and both having nothing to pay,— both freely forgiven by infinite clemency, ft 18 a summing up of the case that is too often forgotten. Eva's natural tact and delicacy stood her in stead in her dealings with Maggie, and made her touch upon the wounds of the latter more endurable than any other. Without reproof for the past she expressed hope for the future. " You shall come and stay with your mother at my house, Maggie, ' she said, cheerfully, and we will make you useful. The fact is, your mother needs you ; she is not so strong as she was, and you could save her a great many steps." Now, Maggie still had skilful hands and a good many avail- able worldly capacities. The very love of finery and of fine living which had ow"^ helped to entrap her, now came in play for her salvation. Something definite to do is, in some crises, a far better medicine for a sick soul than any amount of medi- tation and prayer. One step fairly taken in a right direction, goes farther than any amount of agonized back-looking. In a few days Maggie made for herself in Eva's family a place m which she could feel herself to be of service. She took charge of Eva's wardrobe, and was zealous and efficient in rip- ping, altering and adapting articles for the adornment of her pretty mistress ; and Eva never failed to praise and encourage her for every right thing she did, and never by word or look reminded her of the past. Eva did not preach to Maggie ; but sometimes sitting at her piwio while she sat sewing in an adjoining room, she played and sung some of those little melodies which Sunday-schools nave scattered as a sort of popular ballad literature. Words of piety, allied to a catching tune, are like seed with wings— thay ■ S i ywu ^Pi miJ W L i iiwm 202 WE AND OUR NEIOHBOITRS. float out in the air and drop in odd corners of the heart, to spring up m good purposes. One of these little ballads reminded Eva of the night she hrst saw Maggie lingering in the street by her house : " I stood outside the gate, A poor wayfaring child ; Within my heart there beat ^i tempest fierce and wild. A fear oppressed my soul, That I might be too late ; And, oh, I trembled sore And prayed— outside the gate. (I ( Mercy,' I loudly cried. « ' ^^' pive me rest from sin ! ' I will,'^a voice replied, And Mercy let me in. She bound my bleeding wounds And carried all my sin ; She eased my burdened soul. Then Jesus took me in. " In Mercy's guise I knew The Saviour long abused. Who oft had sought my heart, And oft had been refused. Oh, what a blest return For ignorance and sin ! I stood outside the gate, And Jesus let me in." • After a few days, Eva heard Maggie humming this tune over her work. « There," she said to herself, " the good angels are near her ! / don't know what to say to her, but they do." In fact, Eva. had that delicacy and self distrust in regard to any direct and personal appeal to Maggie which is the natural attendant of personal refinement. She was little versed in any ordmaxy religious phraseology, such as very well-meaning per- sons often so freely deal in. Her own religious experiences, fervent and sincere though they were, never came out in any accredited set of phrases ; nor had she any store ofcut-and- dried pious talk laid by, to be used for inferiors whom she was called to admonish. But she had stores of kind artifices to keep Maggie usefully employed, to give her a sense that she was trusted in the family, to encourage hope that there was a Detter future before her. SHE STOOD OUTSIDE THE GATE. 208 Maggie's mother, fond and loving as she was, seconded these tactics of her mistress but indifferently. Mary had the stern pride of chastity which distinguishes the women of the old country, and which keeps most of the Irish girls who are thrown unprotected on our shores superior to temptation. Mary keenly felt that Maggie had disgraced her, and as health returned and she no longer trembled for her life, she seemed "-lied upon to keep her daughter's sin ever before her. Her past bad conduct and the lenity of her young mistress, her treating her so much better than she had any reason to expect, were topics on which Mary took every occasion to en- large in private, leading to passionate altercations between herself and her daughter, in which the child broke over all bounds of goodness and showed the very worst aspects of her nature. Nothing can be more miserable, more pitiable, than these stormy passages between wayward children and honest, good-hearted mothers, who love them to the death, and yet do not know how to handle them, sensitive and sore with moral wounds. Many a time poor Mary went to sleep with a wet pillow, while Maggie, sullen and hard-hearted, lay with her great black eyes wide open, obdurate and silent, yet in her secret heart longing to make it right with her mother. Often, after such a passage she would revolve the line of the hymn " I stood outside the gate. " It seemed to her that that gate was her mother's heart, and that she stood outside of it ; and yet all the while the poor mother would have died for her. Eva could not at first ac- count for the sullen and gloomy moods which came upon Maggie, when she would go about the house with lowering brows, and all her bright, cheerful ways and devices could bring no smile upon her face. " What is the matter with Maggie ? " she would say to Mary. " Oh, nothing, ma'am, only she's bad ; she's got to be brought under, and brought down,— that's what she has." " Mary, I think you had better not talk to Maggie about her past faults. She knows she has been wrong, and the beat way is to let her get quietly into the right way. We mustn't 8(H WE AN .UR NEIGRIUvfTRS. J!^^* 1^'?°? "P ^^^ .^'^'^ ^ ^^^- When we do wrong we dfrta t hke to We people ke.p puttiPK t« in mind of it.'' *' th,.t . . T *" *"«'i' ^"« ^^«' """^ it »«'fc many ladies that would .1 . as you do. You're too good to her ent^e Iv She ought to oe made sensible of it " * "^^^ entirely. "Well. Mary, the best way to make her sensible and brine th; n JP'"T^"'f " ^ ^^'^^ ^^' ^^^^y «"d never bring u| the past. Don't you see it does no good, Mary ? It onl? makes her sullen, and gloomy, and unhappy^o^hat I cml get anything out of her. Now please, Mar^^ just keep Vul^t and let me manage Maggie." ' ^ ^ ^ ®'' And then Mary would promise, and Eva would smooth Tslv " C;r^ '^*^ T*^ «° ^" ^'^ ^ ^»y «^ two hamont- puslv. But there was another authority in Mary's familv m in Jmost every Irish household.-a man who felt S t^ have a say and give a sentence. f*h^S!7^^?^ ^""i/- ^*' ^'°*''®'' ^i^« McArtney, who had es- i^^ Llf^^iri"^^'",.* ^"""^'y ^»""««« a «ttle out of thrcity TriS'l*^"''^" 1^ T"* ®"*'''? reverence and deference with which Irish women look up to the men of their kindred is somethW m direct contrast to the demeanour of American womer Thf male sex, if repulsed in other directions, certainly are fullv mstified and glorified by the submissive' daSra of En'n Jlike was the elder brother, under whose care Va"y came to' ^ni^' SV^'^'f her places; he guided her in every emer' eency. Mdce, of course, had felt and bitterly resented the aishonou. brought on their family by Maggie's faU In his ™!I 1^ .T ?*"g«''*h^,<^ the path\f refentance was beiV made altogether too easy for her, and he had resolved oHu first leisure Sunday evening to come to the house and exer n^^T T^ of judgment on Maggie, setting her da iu order before her, and, m general bearing down on hei in such a way as to bnng her to the dust and We her feelTt the ru^sp^f ^^l^^r^^'^^ ^'^-^ *^^* -^ of her relftifn: So, after i^v*. , -t I isuec' the mother and tranquilized the '. SHE STOOD OUTSTDE'THE (lATE. 205 girl, and there had been two or three dayg of serenity, came unday evening and Uncle Mike. The resnit was, as mi^ht have been expected, a loud and noisy altercation. Maggie was perfectly infuriated and talked like one possessed of a demon ; using, alas ! language with which Lt-r ninful life had made her only too familiar, and which went far Uj justify the rebukes which were heaped upon her. In his anger at such contumacious conduct, Uncle Mike took full advantage of the situation, and told Maggie that she was a disgrace to her mother and her relations — a disgrace to any honest house — and that he wondered that decent gentle-folks would have her under their roof. In short, in one hour, two of Maggie's best friends — the mother that loved her as her life, and the uncle that had been as a father to her — contrived utterly to sweep away and des- troy all those delicate cords and filaments which the hands of good angels had been fastening to her heart to draw hei heaven- ward. When a young tree is put in new ^und, its roots put forth fibres delicate as hairs, but in which is all the vitaJity of a new phase of existence. To tear up those roots and wrench oflf those fibres is too often the destructive work of well-intending friends ; it is done too often by those who would, if need be, give their very heart's blood for the welfare they imperil. Such is life as we find it. s < •'-~ -"Jii g iai t a ' jWB:a 206 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. CHAPTER XXVII. KOUGH HANDLING OF SORE NERVES. T^^Ld devS^^ tr^^ '^v^ ^^'y ""^ ^'' ^'^'^'^ Mike h^i k devoted to the disciplinary processes with Mafft^ie ha^a been spent by Eva and her husbaild at her father's S' .Jf- 7^u ^"t^'h *^ ^y *^« *'"th' had been somewLt shSen ocilrto drat^^""' Maria's suggestions ; and she took ear ? oc^sion to draw Eva aside, and make many doubtful inquiries i\'^a!in;krf^r^--r^^ *« ^^^^^ dei;^u?-?^jj^:gs?^ to think It over, Eva, I'm afmd it may get you into trouble Everything IS going on so well in your house, Tdoi^? want you to have anything disagreeable, you know." ^^"^ thinS f Plf ■!'• "^.?f ' *^^^ "^° I ^ * Christian, or any- If vf u WH^!;''*'^"' V' *"* "'T ^""°g *^ *^ke an^ trouble^? feeC" ' P''^^'"« ""' ^^ every^Sunday, you would Mr8^VafAr'«?J *^?w ';k®*' ^"^" ^« * ^"^'^ Preacher," said Mrs. Van Arsdel; "but then I never could go so fai von ITILT^ Ti ^^'^' ?^°^^^* ^^^^y now because the SrC vesterdav and f^\ ''' '" ^ ^r i^ ^^"'^h' ^he wis he?e d»i7' ^ ^^®*^ '^^'■^ ^^'■^"g^y aho»* your taking Maggie w^?" niade me quite uncomfortable » ^ -^^a^gie. mIS"" said'^ii ^^"i^ ^"'^ ^^*.' ^^'^^^''^ i<^ i« of Aunt ^Smo;^^ Ju7gln^r:;itnH^a^7t^^^^^ t^ *^!^^"t °f ***"^y' E^^' I ^ust say it's an unusual sort of thing to do. I know your motives are all right and lovely and f ana )et, all .he w„de, I couldn't help thinking that may be she said you go ROUGH HANDLING OF SORE NERVES, 207 I right, and that may be your good heartedness would get vou mto difficuhy." . 6 j " " Well, suppose it does ; what then 1 Am I never to have any trouble for the sake of helping anybody ? I am not one of the very good women with missions, like Sibyl Selwyn, and can't do good that way ; and I'm not enterprising and coura- geous, like sister Ida, to make new professions for women ; but here is a case of a poor woman right under my own roof who is perplexed and suflFering, and if I can help her carry her load, ought I not to do it, even if it makes me a good deal of trouble ? '* " Well, yes, I don't know but you ought," said Mrs. Van Arsdel, who was always convinced by the last speaker. " You see," continued Eva, " the priest and the Levite who passed by on the other side when a man lay wounded were just of Aunt Maria's mind. They didn't want trouble, and if they undertook to do anything for him they would have a good deal j so they left him. And if I turn my back on Mary and Maggie I shall be doing pretty much the same thing." " Well, if you only are sure of suceeding. But girls that have fallen into bad ways are such dangerous creatures ; perhaps you can't do her any good, and will only get yourself into trouble." "Well, iFlfail, why then I shall fail. But I think it's better to try and fail in doing our part for others than never to try at all." Well, I suppose you are right, Eva ; and after all I'm sorry for poor Mary. She had a hard time with her marriage all round; and I suppose its no wonder Maggie went astray. Mary couldn't control her ; and handsome girls in that walk of life are so tempted. How does she get on ? " "Oh, nicely, for the most part, She seems to have a sort of adoration for me. I can say or do anything with her, and she really is very handy and skilful with her needle ; she has ripped up and made over an old dress for me so you'd be quite astonished to see it, and seema really pleased to have something to do. If only her mother will let her alone, and not keep nagging her and bringing up old offences. Mary 18 so eager to make her do right that she isn't judicious, she doesn't realize how sensitive and sore people are that know they have been wrong. Maggie is a proud girl." " Oh, well, she's no business to be proud," said Mrs. Van, 208 WE AND OUR NETGHBOTTRS. fh!^!\J\ ^'"J '"'^ ?^^ I'^^Sht to be humbled in the very dust : that s the least one should expect," ' i«n>^°i'° """^^ ""^ *"'" '^^^ ?^*' " *^"* ^« »'« no*' and she h?«„ ^^ A "^if ®?f "'®^ ^^^ ^®^«"'' an" said Eva, laying hold Df her. Maggie said Harry, stepping up to her and speaking in that calm steady voice which controls passionate people, "go into the house immediately with Mrs. HendersoS ; she will talk with you. Maggie turned, and sullenly followed Eva into a little sewing room adjoining the parlour, where she had often sat at work. Now, Maggie," said Eva, " take off your bonnet, for I'm not gomg to have you go into the streets at this hour of the night, and sit down quietly here and tell me all about it. What has happened 1 What is the matter ? You don't want to dis- tress your mother and break her heart ? " " She hates me," said Maggie. " She says I've disgraced her and I disgrace you, and that it's a disgrace to havi me here, bhe and Uncle Mike both said so, and I said I'd go off then." •'But where could you go ? " said Eva. 'Pa'^ j°T'^ P'^"^**^ enough ! They're bad to be sure. I wanted to do better, so I came away ; but I can go back again." i ' I go . ROUGH HANDLING OF SORE -NERVES. 211 ' said Eva, You've got you are more " No, Maggie, you must never go back. You must do as I tell you. Have I not been a friend to you 1 " " Oh, yes, yes, ym have ; but they say I disgrace you." " Maggie, I don't think so. / never said so. There is no need that you should disgrace anybody. I hope you'll live to be a credit to your mother — a credit to us all. You are young yet ; you have a good many years to live ; and if you'll only go on and do the very best you can from this time, you can be a comfort to ;> our mother and be a good woman. It's never too late to begin,' Maggie, and I'll help you now." Maggie sat still and gazed gloomily before her. " Come, now, I'll sing you some little hymi going to her piano and touching a few chords. " your mind all disturbed, and I'll sing to you till yc quiet." Eva had a sweet voice, and a light dreamy sort of touch on the piano, and she played and sung with feeling. There were truths in religion, higher, holier, deeper than she felt capable of uttering, which breathed themselves in these hymns ; and something within her gave voice and pathos to them. The influence of music over the disturbed nerves and be- wildered moral sense of those who have gone astray from virtue, is something very remarkable. All modern missions more or less recognize that it has a power which goes beyond anything that spoken words can utter, and touches springs of deeper feeling. Eva sat playing a long time, going from one thing to an- other ; and then, rising, she found Maggie crying softly by herself. " Come, now, Maggie," she said, " you are going to be a good girl, I know. Go up and go to bed now, and don't for- get your prayers. That's a good girl." Maggie yielded passively, and went to her room. Then Eva had another hour's talk, to persuade Mary that she must not be too exacting with Maggie, and that shu must for the future avoid all such encounters with her. Mary was, on the whole, glad to promise anything; for she had been thoroughly alarmed at the altercation into which their attempt at admoni- tion had grown, and was ready to admit to Eva that Mike had 212 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. been too liard on her. At all evAntji fk^ e -i , been sufficiently vindicated In^ffM • ^^"^'^y ^^^^ur had herself, she wJ^Xmomiff^TM-r''^^ ^^^)^ b«^»ve . aUowedtointeiferHifuhirl T!i *^** ^'^« «^<>«W not be inducing Ma,;t|oh^r^^^^^ word before sLwe^i to bed fnd^^^^^^^^ ""^^ * reconciling naughty girl cryin^ln W iTht'^^^^^^^ Tnf ST «^r»g^h! IlL"? >'?^^^",^ J^^' ^ ^ mother shS ^ '^*^ °^''^^' P«^ prodti a ^e^t^Coff \°nd Is td'?^n*'^ ^^^^ «- ^^^ kisses him, before he has confelL ?? -^"^ on his neck and of repentance. L Lr does God'^^ '? ^ ^^°" ^"^ ^^^k *he love of fathers and motheS ^'"^'^^ love outrun even saidl^il'i^s^t^rattSl .trfted out at last," onlylet me manage Maggie, Itffi^can^i^Slgot^^^^^^ i REASON AND UNREASON. 213 CHAPTER XXVIII. REASON AND UNREASON. I HE next morning being Monday, Dr. Campbell dropped m to breakfast. Since he and Eva had met so often in „jies sick room, and he had discussed the direction of her Physical well-being, he had rapidly groVrn in intimacy with the Hendersons, and the little house had come to be regarded by him as a sort of home. Consequently, when Eva sailed into ner dining-room, she found him quietly arranging a handful ot cut flowers which he had brought in for the centre of her breakfast table. ^ "Good morning, Mrs. Henderson," he said, composedly. 1 stepped into Allen's green-house on my way up to bring in a tew flowers. With the mercury at zero, flowers are worth something. "How perfectly lovely of you, Doctor," said she. " You are too good." " ^ *^2.^'^?*y' however, that I had not my eye on a cup of your coffee," he replied. " You know I have no faith in dis- mterested benevolence." "WeU, sit down then, old feUow," said Harry, clapping • him on the shoulder. " You're welcome, flowers or no flowers.'' How are you aU getting on ? " he said, seating himself. thaiTOingly, of course,"* said Eva, from behind the coffee- pot, and as the song says, * the better for seeing you.' " " And how's my patient— Maggie ? " "Oh, she's doing well if only people will let her alone : but her mother and uncle and relations will keep irritating her with reproaches. You see I got her in beautiful training, and she was sewmg for me and making herself very useful, when. Sunday evening, when I was gone out, her uncle came to see fter, and talked and bore down upon her so as to completely up- set all I had done, I came home and found her just going out ot the house, perfectly desperate." ^ o • 214 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOITRS, fk "n"'! ^^^"^y ^^ so to the devil straij?hf off t the Doctor. '« His doors are IlVs^Toven'^' '"^^^'^ ^ " "^^ You see," said Harrv <* .V.^^^ ®P®"- . this world that ifm.n7^oJ^':^^^^ I' - --,ed i„ of the way, all society is armed to /hi ^""^l^^^^S or gets out ever do „g right agaij. Sr ow^ l.h 5 t? ^'r'""^ ^^eir them with reproaches and exDosTulaffnn *"^^^^ood pitch into looks on theiwith suspicion^ and ^^^^^^ nobody dares trust them." ' """^^^^ ™<^« them and can't sToX^'nythW ^^"^oi^^ r^^ ^^ *n army-it and the army mJst #* onTud itte .^^^^^^^^^ ^i '^' ^o^d, to die or be taken b/the enemv For n^5 '?t ^"^ ^°»nd«"gl»t poisoning the sick and wounded thT "" u° ^' l^^ommenSed think I should prefer fnh!? that could not be moved I myself in such a cte The ^Z^-'^^!^- ""^ ^^^^^^^X Po soned but I think all people lho^^h^t''^f^''^''^^^<^^^^^^ step physically and moX fad b^r h«T?/ /"^ ^^"'^ W we could get on comfortab& and in ffi^ "^^'^ *^^"'"- ^hen have a nice population " * ^^"^ generations should ^lI^/^rdC'^^&^^^^^^ that sort of been doing-corking for tt^ouL^^^^ '" ^ >^«" have CamS '^ff^ouw^^^^^^^^ «^ ^^e thing," Cd^r butlWarnJ^utla^^^^^^^^^^ ^^.^^^ethe trouble': ences are troublesome tfmlnt^^^^^ jangle ; they are sore ever^efe ' an^ fZ °'''^'' ^'^ ^" ^^ * m them is turned wrone side nnf to 5 the very good that is world will be against vfu in ."^^""f ' *^^' ^ ^^^ say, the as ever I haveXervera^rratSr r*7*^- ?^^*^i«°«' ^ far body else--especiSro;i a worn t fW '' ^" '^°"«'« *h»« any- tothemsen8ibk,,Sl7wrsninee^^^^^^^^^ "1*^"^^ *"d next live to get rid of trouble^ anTf3w?K Pfop e_people who substance of evD. Now tak W 1 » • ?r f ^^Lr *« **»^ «"m and -nt on that. Her^;^latn?a\^l^^dL^fe^^ Jl I E ( P ii REASON AND UNREASON. 2I0 Zrc'T^f^:,:i2r^^i!s:'^' ^^^y -" ^- aow." fool, and do all thTcan to hin^i ^'''' a sentimental little comfortable, SifsLr^lT-'^''"- , ^he rank and file of dent and or^iyZ2.\^e'£'% ^Tl^' "^"i ^S»/«" ^^Pr"" will understand you or stL^L '^^^'^.^"^ Sibyl Selwin, girl herself is as uCeUable '^'£ S '^"'th: 'T'^ ""' ^^^ woman in this kind of life is ill T ^^ ^""'J '^^"^ <^o « nervous system so th^f «{.. ,• derangement of her whole liable to S'?;:^^^^^^^^^^^^^ this free Bohemian life with if. t^' . "=«8«"'on from them in unnaWsS o7lLtgt?',S':r"'!i 'T™ y >u have done all you can fnr f v^l^ • s^mulus ; and when go. That's the rCr whvmn?'~''!i* ™°"^""*' ««* they wash ,^eir hands o ThTm^'a r^ bSot^rbSn^f^^^^ ^ ^ strJge^fbXrel t'to^ 4^^' ^' ^^--^ted to a family e^er Ice I waTa CS ^ '^f ^K ^^^ ^«« h««« i« our and been devXd to Te- hlu T^nl^""^ ^.'' ^^^^^ ^^^^^ «»e and not help her in tSs crisis oJ W f^ k'' *^' '^^^ ^^^^^er of trouble ? Isn'f if wLf? ! \}^^ ^'f^' ^^«»»«e I am afraid and a great deal of parence 2 "^^ ^^^'^^ ^'"^ "^*'""^'^' ruin ? ^I think it is." ' "^ '^"^^ ^^'' ^^"^^^^^ ^^ ^e^s from " I think you and your husband will do it " sairl th. n * because you are just what you are • anH T =v,on C 1 ^ ^^°^'' cause I'm whaf T ««, iTT •'^ , ^ *'^^ ^ "^hall help you bn- side bifSe yof AM;k",hi°r'*''-''^^' I ^' *« "Enable .t^te-iroS?x«ot--.r Oa.rMl'^.btt?rreUf.re«:%h1£n^^ parts nomv,o«,, „HfK -7 ^i^i ""'"v, ^"^'re ine (christian religion L«e.ii^-s;:ti:^tr^:,,^-j^^^^^^^^^ 216 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. the prudent, and the HUccessfuL The weak, the sick, the sin- ners, and all that sort of thing, are to have as much care as they can without interfering with the healthy and strong. Now, in the good old times of English law, they used to hang sum- marily anybody that made trouble in society in any way — the woman who stole a loaf of bread, and the man who stole a horse, and the vagrant who picked a pocket ; then there was no dis- cussion and no bother about reformation, such as is coming down upon our consciences now-a-days. Good old times those were, when there wasn't any of this gush over the fallen and lost ; the slate was wiped clean of all the puzzling sums at the yearly assizes and the account started clear. Now-adays, there is such a bother about taking care of criminals that an honest man has no decent chance of comfort." " Well, Doctor," said Eva, "if the essence of Christianity is restoration and salvation, I don't see but your profession is es- sentially a Christian one. You seek and save the lost. It is your business by your toil and labour to help people who have sinned against the laws of nature, to get them back again to health ; isn't it so? " " Well, yes it is," said the doctor, " though I find everything going against me in this direction, as much as you do." " But you find mercy in nature," said Harry. '• In the lan- guage of the Psalms : * There is forgiveness with her that she may be feared.' The first thing, after one of her laws has been broken, comes in her effort to restore and save ; it may be blind and awkward, but still it points toward life and not death, and you doctors are her ministers and priests. You bear the physical gospel ; and we Christians take the same process to the spirit- ual realm that lies just above yours, and that has to work through yours. Our business in both realms seems to be, by our own labour, self-denial and suffering, to save those who have sinned against the laws of their being." " Well," said the doctor ; *' even so, I go in Jbr saving in my line by an instinct apart from my reason, an instinct as blind as nature's when she sets out to heal a broken bone in the right arm of a scalawag, who never used his arm for any- thing but thrashing his wife and children, and making himself a general nuisance; yet I have been 4 lazed sometimes to see how kindly and patiently old Mother Nature will work for such 1 REASON AND UNREASON. 217 tnUT one to Z MkL' 1 . ^'- ^""'s^ys. ' these twoare con- if not in faith.'^ ^'" ^'^ * ^^"^^^"^ i» heart, Doctor. ;; Me ? I'm the most terrible heretic in all the continent " .eTTh-iiStirH^^irk^^^^^^ and sacrifice themselves toMve others^' ' "P'"'' ^ ' """''• heJ^V'tidlhe Ddotr^But"'"" ""'" ^"^ '""«»"' ing for dikCZrbe n h" crbuTitT"'' "' ', """'■ plicat on of such cases Such people mavtnVn " "'?** ""I?- out yielding, and then the fir 00!^^^ rt. ''"'J ""*■ they go. Perhaps she may not be one of thi. ' *".'' ^^^ for doing the ver? r„it''fi/4at^h1"'a™5-'^t ■''!«' ?" the very best intentions. And now i!teT^^^^^J^^ r 218 WK AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. you into iiiiy trouble, rely upon me so far as I can do anything to help. Don't hesitate to command me at any hour and to any extent, because I mean to see the thing through with you. V^hen spring comes on, if you get her through the winter, wo must try and find her a place in some decent, quiet farmer's family in the country, where she may feed chickens and ducks, and make butter, and live a natural, healthful, out-door life ; and, in my opinion, that will be the best and safest way for her." "' ** Come, Doctor," said Harry, " will you walk up town with me ? It's time I was off." " Now, Harry, please remember ; don't forges to match that worsted," said Eva. " Oh ! and that tea must be changed You just call in and tell Haskins that," " Anything else ? " said Harry, buttoning on his overcoat. "No ; only be sure you come back early, for mamma says Aunt Maria is coming down here upon me, and I shall want you to strengthen me. The Doctor appreciates Aunt Maria." "Certainly I do," said the Doctor ; " a devoted relation who carries you all in her heart hourly, and therefore hasanun doubted right to make you as uncomfortable as she pleases. That's the beauty of relations. If you have them you are bothered with them, and if you haven't you are bothered for want of 'em. So it goes. Now I would give all the world if I had a good aunt or grandmother to haul me over the coals, and fight me, out of pure love— a fellow feels lonesome when he knows nobody would care if he went to the devil." " Oh, as to that," said Eva, " come here whenever you're lonesome, and we'll fight and abuse you to your heart's content ; and you shan't go to that improper person without our making a fuss about it. We'll abuse you as if you were one of the family." "Good," said the Doctor, as he stepped towards the front window ; "but here, to be sure, is your Aunt, bright and early." I with AT'NT MAIUA FRKRS FFER MfND. 219 CHAPTER XXIX. AUNT MARIA FRKKS HER MIND. the city, had had dMnmiS ' ^' ''** "' " ''''"■»''' «>•^^^^ -P her the ,L oFhe?'ol"„' plje^ ^^ ^-^ »' «™ -stance to ^JoTe^riXt^l^Z*?-^^''^^ """-ly.- "»nd sol ::rW^- -»"— ^^v-/x,^7=t: »dj^ld":p?;^^:^„ter^''' -grand superior way, y^he^ '"' '*''*' "'' *>■« yo"' I'm astonished ,0 see weJe'^Z't. WeTu the"l't°'f"'' '"*,"';''«™ """l ««•-'» judgment on a detecS cnl„t> . "" ""'f"' ™d severe act of opinion that mSs Dre^Z"!""*" *^™' ^rs. Wouvermans' pBtti-e,.™ .'?'»?!«'' Pf«sence m any decent house wa^ .„ ;„ Maggie's pale face turned a shade paler, and her black eyes i ! I [ I 220 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. flashed fire, but she said nothing ; she went out and closed the door with violence. "Did you see that ! " said Aunt Maria, turning to Eva. fonu/vf^ '^ ^""^^y^ ""^^ ^"'"'*^ «^y I thi'^k it was more your fault than Maggie's. People in our position ought not to pro- voke girls, if we do not want to excite temper and have rude- nhUf' ^^t J'^VT^"P ^^''^ *^ ^^^« ^ plain talk with you about this girl, for I think you don't know what you're doing in taking her into your house. IVe talked with Mrs. Willis ahlf''; ^T "^^"i. ^^""'^ ^"d ^i*^ dear Mrs. Elmore fn fi ?;i^°?i ^'''' '' ^"uJ"'* ^""^ opinion-they are all united 111 the idea that you ought not to take such a girl into your tamily. You never can do anything with them; they are utterly good for nothing, and they make no end of trouble. I M-ent and talked to your mother, but she is just like a bit of tow string, you can't trust her any way, and she is afraid to come and tell you what she really thinks but in her heTrt she feels J ust as the rest of us do." ril.^^"' "TA/P'l^r-Il^y "^""'d' ^«°* Maria, I can't see what right you and Mrs. Willis and Aunt Atkins and Mrs. Elmore have to sit as a jury on my family affairs and send me advice as to my arrangements, and I'm not in the least obliged to you for talking about my affairs to them. I think I told you. some time ago, that Harry and I intend tomanageourfamily accord- ing to our own judgment ; and, while we respect you, and are desirous of showing that respect in every proper way we can- not allow you any right to intermeddle in our family matters. I am guided by my husband's judgment (and you yourself ad- mit that, for a wife, there is no other proper appeal) and Harry and^I act as one. We are entirely united in all our family "Oh, well, I suppose there is no harm in my taking an in- terest m your family matters, since you are my godchild, and I brought you up and have always cared as much about you as any mother could do-m fact, I think I have felt more like a mother to you than Nelly has." "Well, Aunty," said Eva, " of course, I feel how kind and good you have always been, and I'm sure I thanV ^rnn w,th all AUNT MARIA FREES HER MIND. 221 taIkSt^'s^"*Ju"f^ifIT'r" f-^'y-^hat rldiculou, coarse, aUo,v your old aunt ,W T l.'T'' ' ''"•' y"" ""y- »' havon't k.^ ♦„ *' "'*' noshad experience that you Jora^v:„igeSC*T^--'^»d '«">'»■ of thingrto " Oh, of course, Aunty." aJJTh"^^"' ^"i^unty, I don't want Ann, if she were an betmJd^ ' ""' ^'''' '°^ ^ prefer herto anybody thatcoulS thisl'itch^I?^^*'^ is getting old, and she is encumbered with fZT^A 1 * ^a^ghter, whom she is putting upon yourshoul to l»?h -^^'"^ ^r "*"y ' ^"d I perceive thlt you'H be ridden Sfied!" ^^^^"Sement than just what ILe. I l^'^elSy willS^vo?an1n^7'"' ^""P^DS that girl in your house Ctily ?^Zt?Vn^ disgrace yet," said Aunt M^ria, rising Sine to th?« iJ ' A^^^'^'fi ^ 'P""<^ ^ g««d half day at have Xen von Tht ' ^k^ TJ^^'^S arrangements that would 11 tl -^ ! ^ " *"® ^e^^" ^^8*^ of servants : but if vou choose to take m tramps you must take the conseqience" ^I can't he p W oiiTth^r T.r T^r"^ ^^^ '^^^ ^^^ her Tonnet "^ Koi?! -J^? ^ . ^^^^ ^^ *^e kittle sewing-room, where Ma^aip " "on 'st'd-r ^l^^^'^i^h-g ««t of fhe oSHoo'""" j.p..,l^?'i'T ^^ she did," was the reply, as the injnr«^ uL WE^ANB OUR NEIGHBOURS. Eva went out also to attend to some of her moniinff bi,«in««« and, on her return, was mot bv Marv with 7n „ ^ business, Maggie had gone out anrtake^Kr^Wni ^tH^r ^*^^^^^ but'ivI^'L^"'- ^/'^~-- You have tried hard to save me • but It s no use. I am only a trouble to mother, and I dL^ce you and moXer'""^' ^"' '^^'* '^ '^ «"^ -^- ^^^ ^odC Maggie." A DINNER ON WASHING DAY. ? business, ious face.. » her, and i found a rhich was save me ; f disgrace Grod bless LGGIE." 223 CHAPTER XXX. A DINNER ON WASHING DAY. THE world cannot wait for anybody. No matter whose imperatively, no matter what happens to you or me witWf ? '^^PPf ^«<^ *^*<^ Maggie was absolutely gone-gone without leaving trace or clue where to look for her IVIarv though distressed and broken-hearted, had small time for iS For just as Maggie's note had been found, read and ex- plained to Mary, and in the midst of grief and wo^'erment a note was handed in to Eva by an officf-boy, running tZ:' "Dear lUtk Wifie : I have caught Selby, and we can have him at dmner to-night ; and as I know there's nothing like you fo^ emergencies I secured him and took the libert/of caUing in on Alice and Angle, and telling them to come. T shall St John, and Jim, and Bolton, tnd Campbell-lyou know the tZublet r"'"'-"^^ ^*^'^ y^" ^'' ^^«"* iUt's no more double to have six or seven than one ; and now you have Maggie, one may as well spread a little. Your own Harry." all"f hlf T' '"'^ * "'*'' •' " ^^^^ ^^^ ^' "Po<>r Mary ! I'm sorry but iu t L^.T' rC ^tS*" ^^'^ ^ y''" ^*^« ^'^ "^^^^^ trouble, but just hear now ! Mr. Henderson has invited an English een tleman to dmner, and a whole parcel of folks with Mm VeU aTd Mr' ter -:;f?lks, Mary-Miss Angle, and Miss M "' entflnn«T«fl' lif ^."°\j!^«* ^" t^i« best we call," said Mary, entenng into the situation at once ; - but really, the turkey 224 WIC AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. that s been sent m isn't enough for so ma^v Tf .j i good as to step down to Simnn'J „ ? ^\ " ^""1 •>« «« chickens, I coold m»t„ . i'T ' P"" ™' """^ »«•« a pair of that cold bo°kd ta. left *!? f-*' ™1 """ "«'"'» -""^t of woulddotosetonlSle-WMin™'' "^ 7'* P""'-^/ *' the celer/s not eno^rCsM w^*". *"^ P*l''«y->»d bunches. I'm soprv fc u j "*"' '""> «■• three more later in the "eek^ill^h. '"I^^''"" "'•"''*"'' I-*™ P»t it oft fort:i.u?nreirratHt thrf""-^ ^-""^ "'' -"'- suddenly called u""n trchan " alf hfr XJ r^'-^roman washing day, and more »«II,I.if ii v .f P'™^ ""^ operations on Pjexing^ of ^iS SlT mS ' wTT^ »" ">-' P- Maiy's patience and self^acrifi™ .J™ H^ ?""® moment, rosary al^d prayer-Wk nTe, .t. r'** """ *» """"i* »»<'»S«=-they were the outward signs of t«kl"Thintr;o^"plS'" T" ??' " "'' i°»' '«^* of you to but the Ty iTcaAe atut ^ tM, ^.k"'' '"'.';''' '^''"8 ™ ^ad : I^d, and h^; is ortht w'^ant^Z ™T? ""l""^ ^"^■ iion to, and he onlv stav» TX,™ ? ^'y f""™ <» showatten- him whenwe c^n get hL Vo, 'T' ""^/''.r '""« '» take raUy is so consUerate •> ^"^ """"^ ^■■- Henderson gene- imt°X.^7^,'^'^^'"^' "*■""« «'■''' «l™ys have things weSArdtnTrpStentf- "T -""h:;^'' ^he nos^„„„„tuUrhete^ her.'''s:i?^t^' ??IL'J' J^/^'l ' 'f I'O -""y done better by A DINNER ON WASHING DAY. you'd be so er a pair of re's most of t parsley it rsley— and three more put it off, way," she n." nd sublime ing-w'oman orations on most per- ' moment, 'ucifix and hing more d signs of of you to g so bad : Tom Eng- ow atten- e to take son gene- ve things uld have as if she ess upon mderson what to id leave etter by le never • just do 225 the best we can, ' she added, wiping her eye. with her apron " What would you have for dessert, ma'am ? " " What would you make easiest, Mary 1 " "Well there's jelly, blancmange or floating island, though we didn t take milk enough for that ; but I guess I can bor- row some of Dinah over the way. Miss Dorcas would be will- ing, I'm sure." " Well, Mary, arrange it just as you please. I'll go down and order more celery and the chickens, and I know you'll brmg it all right ; you always do. Meanwhile, I'll go to a fruit store, and get some handsome fruit to set off the table." And so Eva went out, and Mary, left alone with her troubles, went on picking celery, and preparing to make jelly and blanc- mange, with bitterness in her soul. People must eat, no matter whose hearts break, or who go to destruction; but, on the whole, this incessant drive of the actual in life is not a bad thing for sorrow. If Mary had been a rich woman, with nothing to do but to go to bed v.'ith a smelling-bottle, with full leisure to pet and coddle her griefs, she could not have made half as good head- way against them as she did by help of her chicken pie, and jelly, and celery and what not, that day. Eva had to be sure, given her the only comfort in her power, in the assurance that when her husband came home she would tell him about it, and they would see if anything could be done to find Maggie and bring her back. Poor Mary was full of self-reproach for what it was too late to help, and with concern for the trouble which she felt her young Mistress had been subjected to. Added to this was the wounded pride of respect- ablity, even more strong in her class than in higher ones, because with them a good name is more nearly an only treasure. To be come of honest, decent folk is with them equivalent to what in a higher class would be called coming of gentle blood. Then Mary's brother Mike, in his soreness at Maggie's disgrace, had not failed to blame the mother's way of bringing her up, after the manner of the world generally when children turn out badly. " She might have expected this. She ought to have known it would come. She hadn't held her in tight enough ; had ! ! 226 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. ^^^^It:.^^^^^^^ told hi. the. Wife, Bjai::^:z:'TxXy izr ^^^t- ^^^'^ »o way an equal match for W Her f Yu'^ ^^^•^' ^ i" want of cordiality in receiving 1,^1?' ^°** ^^^ consequent «»ind, so that she^ w J foS to .^^t"^ "f^^'^ ^» ^^dget^s humiliation. wward to take advantage of Mary's nect?s:rarrJ^^^^t^^^^^^ but decent family oon- «ay, '' aha ! so would we Tave it " IT i ^"^"''^^ sometimes been taken, all who have MtthL A" "^^^'^ ^^^^^ce bas not are prompt' with the^ e ^f consdlln ""'^^T «^ ^^ght^d friends, and eager above llIfK;.^^" exemplified by Job's that they havelTobody ^f ^^^^^ ^*^^^^ ^" ^^ '"^le So no inconsiderable pa*t of Mlf'u-^*"^ ^^^ ^t- was the prick and sting of all tL^f ^t. ^'*^^' berbs this day, be said of her and S^e hvtjT^^^}^^^' ^bich migh^ of the family circle by^gf^^;^^^^^^^^^^ and the r^es friends." Eva, tender heSjndniff/? '" *?f *"'"* " ber best a sympathetic doudcomtng over h^ belpfeeling woe struck and dejected Irstef^r'^bed poor Maryf hadhstened and overheardl^mf m • T^^ ""^^e *bat Maggie and that thus the SXuIsfhS.? ^^^'^^P^^ ^^ *be parf^ri to her miserable courses ««? t®^° ^''^^ *<> send her back vague feeling of bCrfri^^^l^T^^bo^E^^ not help a "^ade sure tLt t£ ^K tndTru^ "T'^'' ''' «^* ba4.g not be overheard ^ ^^"^^ denunciations should todme there that iight, SvafS «\ ^''? ^'"^ «^ ^*« siasmand pride to hSve evemhbe chfr^^^^^ «"*bu- it 18, sisters. Each time that vo„ 1?£ ™ ",^- ^«" ^now how you put your entire^Ll tol f^tVeT^ T^'''' ^" band a complete little set of hones an/l *'"^^ being, and have plans born with the day aSyin. tife •''^'' ^"^"^^« «"d Just as she was busy arranSnf T « ^ "'*'"'«^- rang, and Jim Fellows L^7?^^l\-^^^^^^^^ bell A DINNER ON WASHING DAY. 227 W him they iause Mike's down, as in consequent in Bridget's 3 of Mary's family con- sometimes ice has not >r slighted, 'd by Job's in trouble t. 8 this day, ich might d the rest " her best elp feeling •or Mary's t Maggie, e parlour, her back t help a )t having 8 should nd what t Maggie an Eng- of was 8 enthu- owhow in hand id have ws and )or bell M i ■ ? Ko" ^^°,4,"?«r;!«g." he said ; Harry told me you were going to corriLtLt'''''"""*'""^^''' ^^' ' *^^"^^* I'dbifngT: ouu^look ?ot' ^ it^yTf ^ *^^ ^^^"^« ' -- ^-g Ji^'^'f'A^^''^''^ ''''°'? ^. y^*" ^^*^hout looking, then," said w^V' "^ ^*^^'"^^^« for ^»«« Can't I help you in any "No, Jim, unless— well, you know my good Mary is the UllolorY ^.' «f^^^li?hment, and if^shl breaks /own we out W' """^ ""^^^ ^^ *^^ ^ '^"g^" ^*y ^i<^h- - wJf."' what has happened to this great wheel 1 " said Jim. Has It a cold m its head, or what 1 " fh»f m"'^'''^?"' 1,?'* make fun of my metaphors; the fact is, « W ^ l^rt^'i ^«fgi«> has run off a^ain and left her." «i S^ ^^ "^^S^*^ have expected," said Jim. =1,. u ^ 1 ^^'® was doing very well, and I really thought I should make somethmg of her. She thought everything of me, and I could get along with her perfectly well, and I found her very mgemous and capable ; but her relations all took up agamst her, and her uncle came in last night and talked to her till she was m a perfect fury." "Of course,'' said Jim, "that's the world's way; a fellow can t repent and turn quietly, he must have his sins well rubbed 2^f S' *^ ^'' Tl ^^^^ *^° *^^ grindstone. I should know that Maggie would flare up under that style of operation ; those great black eyes of hers are not for nothing, lean tell fV,IT^"' ^?" '^^ '^ \^. ^^ "^g^^' ^hile I was up at papa's, that her uncle came, and they had a stormy time, I fancy ; and when Harry and I came home we found Maggie just flyini out ox the door in desperation, and I brought her back, and quieted ^Jw^^'ir*^ brought her to reason, and her mother too, and WMaria-1" '""^ "^^*- ^"'' '^' ^"'^^"^' '^"^^ ^^ Jim gave a significant whistle. Ji7T' IZ"^^^ "^f 7^'^^^^- You see, Maggie once lived with Aunt Maria, and she's dead set against hfr, and came to make me turn her out of my house, if she could. You ought ^fKT A\\ ■!l 1 !if :ii:; 228 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOUllS. quite broken-hearted if 1^1 ^\ ?"* ^^ P^^' ^^^^ is 60d She aS ,V' '^ ^'°^ ""-"-y'lung for me, like the good for hat aS r "•■"'• "" ?»«<*-*">«* •« newspaper felC .hat&.^j te. rCtfa'S ir^r-: s^-^iuT.^ else I don't 2ehor«T!.r^ "''"'='• P'"^'"'^"' for them )_ affair in his Xper " ^"'"^ *" """" '•""■ " ™W'y A DINNER ON WASHING DAY. aciation she she talked iduce me to sef of girls, 5or Mary is lee her go eyes every ce the good Well, I'll nt. I know per fellows 1 1 think I things that Meanwhile, to send to it." ^ou go by ) is always its, too." ver wants Oman has ly-school ; ad tippets on about ibout it." I the first them ?— . worldly led with IS telling bushing's «^ith the to get a ? thing I her, and ..1 — -f 229 how they managed m the catacombs, without doubt, and he gets ahead of us all preaching about the primitive Christians, but como to a Christmas tree for New York street boys and He II have to learn of her-aud you see he won't find it hard to take, eitiier. Jim knows a thing or two. " And Jim cocked his head on one side, like a saucy sparrow, and looked provok- mgly knowing. i* vv«^n. '• Now, Jim, what do you mean ? " "Oh, nothing. Alice says I mustn't think anything or say anything on pain of her high displeasure. But, you just watch the shepherd and Angie to-night." " Jim, you provoking creature, you mustn't talk so." anvfbw/nf ^*'^' T^^° '' **!^^"g «^^ Am I saying K ^T 1 '?''^ ^ ""/^^ '*y^"g anything. Alice won't let me I always have to shut my eyes and look the other way when Angle and St. John are around, for fear I should say trn&th"e'mr^' ' ""^^'- ''"^ '^^' -^^-^' ^"* ^^ Now we'll venture to say that there isn't a happy young rl ? \^^^ f°°?' ^J ''^^"^^^^ *hat isn't predisposed to nfTlTn ir^' "^5"*' *J?*PPy marriage, as about the summit ot human bliss ; and so Eva was not shocked like Alice by the suggestion that her rector might become a candidate for the sacrament of matrimony. On the contraiy, it occurred to her at once that the pretty, practical, lively, efficient little Augie might be a true angel, not merely of church and Sunday-school, but of a rector's house. He was ideal and thereotic, and she practical and common-sense ; yet she was pretty enough, and picturesque, and fanciful enough for an ideal man to make a poem of, and weave webs around, and write sonnets to ; and as all these considerations flashed at once upon Eva's mind she went on setthng a spray of geranium with rose-buds, a ple'ased dreamy smile on her face After a moment's pause she said : in itrt r"" '^^ ^H'"'^ considering whether to build a nest in the tree by your wmdow, and want him there, the way is to keep pretty s ill about it and not go to the windiw and wa ch^ and call people saying, 'Oh, see here, there's a bird going to '^""^-' -Don t you see the sense of mv parable « " '• Well, why do you talk to me ? Haven't I kept away from 230 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. t I amfiffL; You'll find me discretion itself. I shall be so rie t; lln'^'"'' don't forget to do what you can about Mae- fffairs and I'r^' ''^^!^'" "^^ *^ ^^««« absorbed in my own shPo'o'o d ^^^^ ^"^^'^"^ ^'^ ^^^P M«^' poor thin/wh^n "Well I don't see but you are doing all vou can I'll co ^out ,t nght away and report to you « ^Km?" eo'il ^ v«., ""*" "^ sprees mat He will have every two or thrRA waoL-o TwoS^and an^.,".'"?'//'™' '"P'^M think, brongK by tojnMiL Wrto^d^'njf i^i^iTe^r ofl*!^^^^^^^ up all the driuking^hops right off" ^°°"'' ' "^ *"' pretty ^^I;jiy7 """^ «>"''' ''»™ »" ™y. we should doit " Well, I don't know about that," said Antrie " On« ,.f fi,« worst shops in John's neighbourhood ff kep°^y a woZ •• 'Wen, It s^ms so hoHess-this weakLs'^of STmen," A DINNER ON WASHING DAY, ^31 and Quick thai hi i. . A ^^ • ®^®' ^'^^ ^e is so oblieine and when he wm wSng home with^^ T "'^ H' '?"'»« ^ Just U oSrTcfor^nTilt""" '""""" ^»l.-o«ld. 232 WE AND OUR NEIUHBOURS. CHAPTER XXXI. 1 1 WHAT TIIEY TALKED ABOUT. I HE dinner party, like many impromptu social ventures, was a success. Mr. Selby proved one of that delight- ass of English travellers who travel in America to see and enter into its peculiar and individual life, and not show up its points of difference from old-world social standards. He seemed to take the sense of a little family dinner got up on short notice, in which the stereotyped doctrine of courses was stead- fastly ignored ; where there was no soup or fish, and only a good substantial course of meat and vegetables, with a slight dessert of fruit and confectionery ; where there was no black servant, with white gloves, to change the plates, but only re- spectable, motherly Mary, who had tidied herself and taken the office of waiter, in addition to her services as cook. A real high-class English gentleman, when he fairly finds himself out from under that leaden pale of conventionalities which weighs down elasticity like London fog and smoke sometimes exhibits all the hilarity of a boy out of school on a long vacation, and makes himself frisky and gamesome to a de- gree that would astonish the solemn divinities of insular de- corum. Witness the stories of the private fun and frolic of Thackeray and Dickens, on whom the intoxicating sense of social freedom wrought results sometimes surprising to staid Americans ; as when Thackeray rode with his heels out of the carriage window through immaculate and gaping Boston, and Dickens perpetrated his celebrated walking wager. Mr. Selby was a rising literary man in the London writing world, who had made his own way up in the world, and known hard times and hard commons, though now in a lucrative posi- tion. It would have been quite possible, by spending a suit- able sum and deranging the whole house, to set him down to a second-rate imitation of a dull, conventional London dinner, with waiters in white chokers, and protracted and circuitous cial ventures, that delight- ica to see and t show up its 8. He seemed up on short jes was stead- i, and only a with a shght was no black but only re- and taken the i. e fairly finds ventionalities ; and smoke, r school on a )some to a de- •f insular de- and frolic of ting sense of sing to staid lis out of the Boston, and r. odon writing 1, and known icrative posi- iding a suit- lira down to ndon dinner, ad circuitous « ff^ 'ii""'' "' ^^'"^ '.T ^'- ^"'^y ^""1'^ ''«v« frozHi into a fnf» /7''r.^- ^'''""' ^^^'' immaculato tie an. . ovcs and a guarded and diplomatic reserve of demeanour. EvaCuTd have been nervously thinking of the various unusual arran^^ ments of the dinner table, and a general stiffness and «mh?t rassment would have resulted. People who entertain S^n gers from abroad often re-enact the miUIke of the two Eng^^^^^^^ men who travelled all night in a diligence, laboriouslv tXmr broken French to each other, till at dawn therfound out £? a chance slip of the tongue, that they were both English S\f at heart, every true man, especially ih a foreign land is wanting what every true household can give him-si^ere hoLHee? ing, the sense of domesticity, the comfort of being off parade and among friends ; and Mr. Selby saw in the first ten m^n utes that tEis was what he had fou/d in the Hende ons' ho™ e" In the hour before dinner, Eva had rhown him her ivies aSd aHvlT ''"^ ^^Tr"^'' of trainingthem, and found aiapprecf- ative observer and listener. Mr. Selby was curious about Am«r can mtenors and the detail of domestic life amonneonTeof S^ rn'^H^"?""' ?' ^*« ^"'«^««^^d in the modfs Sf Tarr^^ ing and lighting, and arranging furniture, etc. : and soon Tr and he were all over the hoSse^ while she eloquently exp?ained nin«r ^^\r'^'^^ "^^' ' «' thepositln of thf water pipes, and the various .orts and conveniences which the J had introduced into their little territories. ^ ^«lhv?»;F- * ^''^^® ^'""^ ^^' "^y o^" at Kentish Town." Mr Selby said, m a return burst of confidence, "and I slmll teU 7a.7"^ ^^71 '""'^ °^ y^^' contrivances ; the fac is " he fnt ' 1 T^^l^'^^ry people need to learn all these ways of be Kf n''^^/' "' '"?^ ^^P^»«^- The problem of oTagc is' that of perfecting small establishments for people of moderai the exact region of the heart ; and then came " m? son " four years old, with all his playthings round him • ^nd k shnr? Alice and Angeiique were delightful girls to reinforce and I n 1 > ! i 234 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. carry out the home charm of the circle. They had eminently what belongs to the best class of American girls-that noble frankness of manner, that fearless giving forth of their inner nature, which comes from the atmosphere of free democratic so- ^ j^C J most high-bred American girls, they had travelled, and had opportunities of observing European society, which added breadth to their range of conversation without taking anything from their frank simplicity. Foreign travel produces two opposite kmds of social effect, according to character Persons who are narrow in their education, sensitive and self- distrustful are embarrassed by a foreign experience : they lose their confidence in their home life, in their own country and Its social habitudes, and get nothing adequate in return : their ettorts at hospitality are repressed by a sort of mental compari- son of themselves with foreign models ; they shrink from enter- taining strangers through an indefinite fear that they shall come short of what would be expected somewhere else. But persons of more breadth of thought and more genuine courage see at once that there is 'a characteristic American home life, and that what a foreigner seeks in a foreign country is the peculiarity of that country and not an attempt to reproduce that which has be^me stupid and tedious to him by constant repetition at Angelique and Alice talked readily and freely: Alice with the calm, sustained good sense and dignity which was charac- teristic of her, and Angelique in those sunny jets and flashes of impulsive gaiety which rise like a fountain at the moment. Given the presence of three female personages like •u^-.- ^' ^^^ .Angehque, and it would not be among the pos- sibilities for a given set of the other sex to be dull or heavy, inen, most ot the gentlemen were more or less habituSs of the house, and somewhat accorded with each other, like instru- ments that hav6 been played in unison ; and it is not, there- fore, to be wondered at that Mr. Selby made the mentkl com- ment that, taken at home, these Americans are delightful, and tnat cultivated American women are particularly so from their engaging frankness of manner. There would be a great deal more obedience to the apostolic injunction, "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers," if it once could be clearly got into the heads of well-iutendiiig people WHAT THEY TALKED ABOUT. 235 fr^ 1!!.*^ •* '*'!"^''' ^*"*- ^^»<^ do i/^'* want when a>yav fir^H. 'liTi,* s range city 1 Is it not the warmth oTthe S outunconstrainedly aLngtfose Xto7w uS^^^^ And had you not rather dine with an old friend on SnlZTi mutton, offered with a warm heartALn go to a ZpS ^^^ momous dinner party among persons wWo^>t^Trfa'^^^^^^^^^ liWn!: *^«",^f it down in your book that other people are like you ; and that the art of entertaining is the art of r!X canng for people If you have a warm heirt congeS^^^^^^ and a real mterest in your stranger don'f fJ^r^l^-'l ^- ' though you have no best dinSt', S yo^ existr. nt^ ZZ^^ t^^^'A'' '^^ ^^g««' and everthougT^^^^^^ handle broken off from the side of your vegetable dish %of i. drner'hr^ '''"'?*' ^^" ^^^ ^^^ soShtlbetter than a dinner, however good,-you can give a part of yourself Von can give love, good will, and sympathy, of whKhereL ^- haps been quite as much over cracked pTat^and restrict table furniture as over Sevres china and silver ^^«t"«ted It soon appeared that Mr. Selby, like other sensible Enelish men had a genuine interest in gekng below the Zft^^lffl^ our American world, and coming to the rIaP'harf nL'^nn which pur social fabric is founded. He wi full oHntem gent curiosity as to the particulars of American iournTli«m l^ItrtSroT^F '1 r" '"it^' ''' remurrSnf cjr^^^^^^^^^ I!. *^°j%?f ^ngla-^d ; and here was where Bolton's exneH cTe olf stXr^'^ "^^"^-^^^^^ P-^-1 ^^-vS; Alice was delighted with the evident imrression that Tim r«o^ on a „.an whose good opinion appearedTo^rrrth fa^n^^^^^^^ that young lady, insensibly perhaps to herself held a sort of riJ^f Tn r/r'^i? ^t'^'^' '' '^' P^^«««««« of the middle^^^^^^^^^ in the knights that wore their colours and Tim nn^ , il 5i was inspired by the idea that br^^ Ve" looD on to i^^^^ devo^r manfully in the conversation. Key went over fll th« tTZ""Ar'^Tr' ^"^^"^^"^ living' for {it7rrry It and /L f 'S-'v!" *^^ ^7" countries ; the facilities for mSrille «nd the establishment of families, including salaries, Ss^^S 236 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. I i ofgoods, etc. In the course of the conversation, Mr. Selby made many frank statements of his own personal experience and obser vation, which were responded to with equal frankness on the part fn^Z^ *"^ ^""^ ^'?? f ^^^«' ^"^ i* fi°«"y seemed asTf the who e company were as likely to become aucmrant ofeLhorher's ifj'^^Vir^y of brothers and sisters. Eva sitlVat the head, like a skilful steerswoman, turned the helm of convert tion adroitly now this way and now that, to draw outThe forces of all her guests, and bring each into pliy. She introduced the humanitarian questions of the day ; and the subTect ^uTwt t °r T^^^** ^«« doing by the Christian world the high church, the ritualists, the broad church andthedis" senters all rose upon the carpet, and St. John wS; wWe awake and earnest m his enquiries.*^ In fact, an eagertafking s Jrit thTIvf toTto^r '"^1 '' "^u^^^^^"^ ^-^ when Evi Se IwaM them' ^' '"''"^' "'^'*^ ^ ^"^^^ «- -^ coffee in f J/^"^*^- ^*»^ ^''-^'^P ""^""y d»^k shades over my windows iownth'T"^' J-'^^n',^«»»^^«»^ i^ and beganlettkg down the lace curtains ; "Hike to have the firelightof a Dleas ^LT"^ f T"' r' i"'« *^« d*^k««'i look cSul and hos 1^0 you Know, Mr. Selby, how your English arranffementa Mtal^Zr-r I ^i^'^ ^^^^ ^1 meantVKe very^eHgS^^ fill to those mside, but freezingly repulsive to those without Your beautiful grounds that one longs to look at, are guarded by high stone-walls with broken bottles on the top, to k'eep one from even hoping to get over. Now, I think beaut ful grounds W7at Si tlJ^ '"^* ^^""^^ ^^"«^'^°^' ^"d ^ man sh'oddn' build a high wall round them, so that even the sight of his neTghbo^urs!!^' '^""' '^ ^'' ^"^^'^ ^^^ ^' ^^"i^d tfhis poor «sJk? *!^*'''™f .^^ ?"'■ "*^^onal love of privacy," said Mr. soniif i '"" * stinginess, I beg you to believe, mW Hender: son, but shyness,-yon find our hearts all right when you get n JIT*' K "^^ .^A ' ^"^•' ^ V®S pardon, xMr. Selby, oughtn't shy- ness to be put down in the list of besetting sins, fnd fought against ; isn't it the enemy of brotherly kindness and ctrity ?" Lcrtamly, Mrs. Henderson, you practise so delightfully, WHAT THEY TALKED ABOUT. 237 "bTXrfll -^^^^ ^*J y^"' preaching," said Mr. Selby; l„-«,»iir ^ ' '' '* *f "^ *? "^^^^ *° k««P one's private life to himself and unexposed to the comments of vulgar^ uncongenial natures ? It seems to me, if you will pardon^h^ suggeS^ Vn,r 'w-'' *°^ ^f^'.^^ ^^' ««"«« of privacy in AmeS Your public men, for instance, are required to live in glass ca^es, so that they may be constantly inspected behind and be- inwn fl.**"'' ^r'' ^^*\r^ewers beset them on every hand, take tlAn A i?^^°i' «^««7a*ions, record everything they say and do, and how they look and feel at every momint of their h« It T^''' Ju** ^ T"^^ ^^^^'' ^^ comfortably burned at InH^uif- ^"""^ *^^? *^ ''^ ^"^ °f y«"^ P"bli« °»^n in America : «fl nf Jt-' '°^'' ""^IT. ^' ^«^°S «V and reserved. It's a state of things impo. ible m the kind of country that has high waUs with glass bottles around its private grounds " ^ He has us there, Eva," said Harry; "our vulgar iollv suTrhf ^'"'^ of equality over here p^duces just^the e in: «"°«^We ref there's no doubt about it." r«««rr * i. ' f ' ''} *^*^® ^"® ^ord to say about newspaper ZTwl' /r-?T' everybody is down on them, nobody fault if b5?-"*^i'' *^'°' ^/"^ .y^*' ^^««« y^«' i<^ i«n't the^ tault If they re impertinent and prying. That is what they are engaged for and paid for. and kicked out if they're not up to JiniJ ^°"' mH *'\^^"'' °^ fi^e big dailies running the fnpnflr'''P"r"u^°' .*^"'" «'"**^ U«i*^d States, and if any ?bLf ' w if -'/.^^^^ '^'^^ ^^^^« a^^t^e^' it'« a victory-; thinLi,!;!^' i^^u^°y' ^""^ "^* ^^^''P'if other papers get things that they don't or can't, off they must go ; and the blys have mothers and sisters to supportl-and want to get wi^es kS J*^7:r^ *^' '^P?'*]"^ ^"«i°««« i« **»e first rould of the ladder ; if they get pitched off, it's all over with them." savin^T?^ '^'^ ^'' ^'?y ' "'^ ^«' if you wiU pardon my saying it, it is your great American public that wants these ?KoT^ ^^^''- ^^T^ *°? ^^«« *»»« n^ost of those that have the most gossip m them, that are to blame. They make the re- Se^^Zr*^ '^'^ ^'"'^''^ ^^^P *^«°^ ^»^a* they are, by the demand they keep up for their wares; and so, I say, if Mrs fa^tT"" T-" P^?"^ °^^' '^^'^ ^ y«<^' I amenable to pui atrninat T ' iT" "r*' •■•,/" "^^ v;ataiogau ut siHs to be fought against. I confess I would rather, if I should ever happen to ! i 238 WK AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. Sr;: tZ &gfe,/s rh'«r*'J tr -^ "■"''-'■ -en- grounds, and ml We«^ v,fc .""""«. "■» ^P around my community commSg°l^nr;fe"Sr'^''''"^ »> partaents specially seonred to themXerlnd ^ T'^ """^ they"";* tSr^Cfr X''^^'»^=«fe^ daughters wore ■\?r^*it„tdri^? ^'^'^071? T" e^remes, the English would n.osi accord"^? ^ *:,;;S Christianity Sl^jL'i^erl'l^l^T,^^^^^^^^^ mingle, any more tlian oil and water 3 ZV t^I ",°''*'" why so much charity in Enelandrthrn™ ' I '^"'''' « cl^ do not undeJs JnSh lC3n":?;;*J ^■'^-* mon cars where aU rideS bv sfdf ^„1 1! .T^'f' '""' "<""- all sit together, andtr ^wHt/^hertJlffi^l^t'" we do know each other better and tWi. iL °'°« '"g'ther, mi»unde«tandings and je:io:si:s,''thaSi^an1™" "' '"^ WHAT THEY TALKED ABOUT. butters, even- )p around my fellow in the ^ow, in Eng. allies to our- in England," U the historic a than if you Triages, they 'ailroad com- '^ou knew no I think are g." people what wives and of the two nay natural question is, ^s people in ; impossible eings which at the high 5 feelings of e»a. They ve, but not rhey never [ think, is (le different » • ■s and dis- » our com- jurs where e together, ice of class cordi"or to of iite one 239 ^nt^-}^ ?"g^^'^ 8?°^^ society is what I prefer; but, if our Christianity is good for anything, we cannot choose what we preier. "I have often thought," said Eva, "that the pressure of vulgar notoriety, the rush of the crowd around our Saviour, was evidently the same kind of trial to Him that it must be to every refined and sensitive nature; and yet how constant and how close wa^ His affiliation with the lowest and poorest in His day He hved w,th them He gave them just what we shrink irom giving— His personal presence— Himself." Eva spoke with a heightened colour and with a burst of self.forgetful enthusiasm. There was a little pause afterwards, as If a strain of music had suddenly broken into the conversa- tion, and Mr. Selby, after a moment's pause, said : Mrs. Henderson, I give way to that suggestion. Sometimes, lor a moment, I get a glimpse that Christianity is something higher and purer than any conventional church shows forth, and I feel that we nominal Christians are not living on that plane and that if we only could live thus, it would settle the I! w n .!"''^5'^ '"'^P*?''' ^^s*®"^ ^han any Bampton Lectures." Well, said Eva, " it does seem as if that which is best for rri%? «^he whole :s always gained by a sacrifice of what is agreeable. Ihink of the picturesque scenery, and peasantry-, and churches and ceremonials in Italy, and what a perfect scattering and shattering of all such illusions would be made Dy a practical, common-sense system of republican govern- hZ; f^** ^0"^*!^ °»ake the people thrifty, prosperous, and hapj^ ! The good is not always the beautiful." ' Yes, said Bolton to Mr. Selby, " and you Liberals in England are assuredly doing your best to bring on the very state of society which produces the faults that annoy you here, ine reign ot the great average masses never can be so agreeable to taste as that of the cultured few." But we will not longer follow a conversation which was kept up till a late hour around the blazing hearth. The visit was one ot those i,appy ones in which a man enters a house a stran- ger and leaves it a friend. When all were gone, Harry and Eva sat talking it over by the decaying brands. 'Harry, you venturesome creature, how dared you send such a company in upon me on washing day." •Hi 240 WE AND OUR NEIGHB0UB8. clasped hands beforfCcracifiT »;^ *'^- ''^ ^""^^^S «tl> <"t]y; BO intent thit sLX^:.'^'' PT"« «>% »n<• .^^Oh dear. Mi« Eva I" «id Mary, "my heart's just break- "rtw" '\'a^ ■'5"^ "> "ny P»o- Mary." and not scolded her " ^ ^ ^®®^ ^^n^er to her, ' bes? V;^& tle^aTdt^^^^^^ ^- -^ ^^ ^or the I know He wiir^xt Good Sh^^^^^ find her." ^^^ ^^°** Shepherd will go after her and j i| A MISTRESS WITHOUT A MAID. 241 I just break- D CHAPTER XXXII. A MISTRESS WITHOUT A MAID. {Eva to Harry's Jd other.) Valley of Humiliation. .EAR Mother : I have \ept you well informed of all our ' prospenties in undertaking and doing: how every- thing we have set our hand to has turned out beautifully; how our evenings have been a triumphant success : and how we and owr neighbows are all coming into the spirit of love and unity getting acquainted, mingling and melting into each other s syinpathy and knowledge. I have had thi most delightful run of compliments about my house, as so bright, so cheerful so social and cosy, and about my skill in manaSng to always have every thing so nice, and in entertaining with so Uttle parade and trouble, that I really began to plume myself on something very uncommon in the way of what Aunt Prissy Diamond calls "faculty." Well, you know, next in course alter the Pa ace Beautiful comes the Valley of Humiliation— whence my letter is dated— where I am at this present writing. Honest old John Bunyan says that, although people do not de- scend into this place with a very good grace, but with many a sore bruiae and tumble, yet the air thereof is mild and refresh- mg, and many sweet flowers grow here that are not found in more exalted regions. I have not found the flowers yet, and feel only the soreness and bruises of the descent. To drop the metaphor. I have been now three days conducting my establishment without Mary, and with no other assistant than her daughter, the little ten year old midget I told you about. You remember about poor Maggie, and what we were trying to do for her, and how she f ea from our house ? Well, Jim Fellows set the detectives upon l^r tracii, aud the last that was heard of her, she had gone up to Poughkeepsie ; and, as Mary has relations somewhere iu \ 'Ml '. 'M i lil ! 242 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. fe t dreadful about leaving me IcnovH A. .K^!*^"*"' ^^^^^^"^ «°"1 cal matters, I am a poor^'^hee^Ttl^ ^m' *' *^ *" P^^cti- had made any opDosiLn J ^ j ^^^ wilderness," and if I I -i^ht hav^^KTromgX'^^^^^^^ could to hurrv her off anT* ii j^' "* ^ "^<^ "o*- I did all T try to get aloC^itKr*"^^^^^ Portance, and seemed to lonfffor /hi Midge swelled m^ im- her latent powers ; and so mLv Lntf T^'i^^*^ to display mg and left me in possessioTo/theS '"'^"^'^ ^"^ «^-" vitid'i:s;::r:a?d^ ZrcLTti::''^'^ ^-^'-- - key, as she had to hurry off to fL ™^ ®^®," *« «t»ff the tur- f^«sEvar' shesid 7uefdy*^Lri J-7^* ^"^ ^^^ ^^^ never fear, Mary; 1 nevJrfL'J • ^*'*^' cheerily: '* Oh not adequ'ate t<("\nd I :iwTer o'ut t^^^^^^^ ^ -'« turned to my kitchen and my turkev M *^' ,^'°"' ^"^ ^^en energy I ^^ould prove to ^rrvwLf ^ '°^^ ^^ ^''^d ^^ith plored field of dohiestic science £Tn ^.T.?^^^»1 and unex- thing should be so perfect that t»f« k""^ ^'**^^ P^'"^*^"- ^very- even be suspected ! ^ ^' *^^ *^««»«« ^^ Mary should not vation Tf Thetis "'xU^lf ^^^ \' ^*^^"- '^^ ^^ok an obser turkeys alwayrtre^t'fl^"/'lf^^^^^ ^.t^' ^^- '^"; shadowy and indefinite my knowled Jtr« "^V ^^^ W those yawning rifts and cavernf w1.1f ' *' ' '^."^^^^P^^ted with something savory--I dS nl^ i T^ *^ ^« ^"ed up he cook-book came toVre ief ? S^^ know what J But tions,and proceeded to^exp ore L fhr^-^?^^'^ ^'^^^i'^^- wheredoes your mother kefnfK , articles. "Midge prompt and alert Tn hefrS^^^^^^^ * " Midge w^^' and I proceeded g velv to S ^"^ ^'^^S^* ^^em to lighT delighted at the oLltuni v ^^""T -""^ ™^^' ^h"e Midge began a miscellaae^oSHS of ?ut^ ^''^'f''' ^^^^^^^i Mary's orderly closets.^ "VreWrS"^. *!1^ "P«^"i°g »n here's the French mustard anH \. »n"8tard, ma'am, and cloves is here, and the Sig-l^^^^^ ""^f^t *"^ ^^e »« here ; " and so on, til] J wIsTJ^crSy. ' ""^^ '^' °"*°^«^^ A MISTRESS WITHOUT A MAID. - Midge put all those things back and shut th door, and stop talking," " ' ' cu 243 ipboard '« Now " vniriT'V; t' ""7 " decisively. Ana Midge obeyed, this mrt beTewed up. "'"'" "'"^ ^^^^ ^-P« ^^ »-<^- i Midge was on hand again, and pulled forth needles and thread, and twine, and after some pulling and pinchTngof mv fingers, and some unsuccessful strueeles wifh /i;« otiff -^ that wouldn't lie down, and thfStgsThat w'uld klr^uT aTaiSXd^stSf '^""^ ^"^ -P'-' andll'ie^;; ;; Now, Midge," said I, triumphant ; « open the oven door »" to ro^a^t £^5' d"a?"' ''' ^'^^^ ^^" ^'^^^^^^^ ^^ ^^'^ -nt Sure enough, I had not thought of that. Our dinner hour was five o'clock ; and, for the first time in my life theTdea nf time^ connected with a roast turkey rose b^^mthead .^ Midge, when does your mother put the turkey in ? " wisely '""^^ *'"'" '"^ ^^" afternoon," said Midge, « Oh T ^"^ ^""^'Jm *»^^ ^*"'^">^ <^^ ^«^«t ? " said I. how large^h%1s."''^' "^' ^''''' confidently, ^« 'cordin' as I turned to my cook-book, and saw that so much time must be given to so many pounds ; but I had not the remo^stTdea how many pounds there were in the turkey. So I sTtMidi to cleaning the silver, and ran across the waj, to get HgLfof'K How thankful I was for the neighbourly running-in terms on S'tiL^y ^f T ''^^^'^^' ^ ^' «^««d me in food S'n Dorc^^n W kii J '"" •^.•"' '^' ^""^ ^««^ ^"^ found Miss ijorcas m her kitchen, presiding over some special Eleusinean mystenes in the way of preserves. The good soul had on a morning-cap calculated to strike terror into an inexperienced ^'^^ 'Z^r-' ^^^ '-'^^'y' an^sKerel "Cookery books are not worth a fly in such cases " she ro "But ':S^f''\ " T°" "^"^^ "- y«- judgment." '" ^^ ^ ^Jiut what if you haven't eot anv iudament to use 1 " s ' I haven't a bit. judgi « Well, then, dear child, you must use Dinah lidL 's, as I do. S44 ii -> • WE AND OUIl NBIGHB0UH8. 'i jl I^inah can tnll f.n a t u i looking at ,t. Here, DCh Z* '"^'^^y '-^^^ to roast, by J^i-8. Henderson." ' '^"^ *'^®^' and ' talk turkey 'to -Dinah went back vrith »«.. i •!• ly ed so immod" atdf ovT.^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^We. She "Lord's'^sakes a Hve Mis^K^^ ^*^« ^«' declaring ^ * cook, you has. Land Se f^hnf r"' ^^ '« ^"" ^^ lik! a bawn work," she added! going^LtoVnVtw'^h' ?f to see laS * Waall, now, Mis' Henderson w ."^^ ,*''*"«^^« of delicht sight of doin'. Tell ye what^T' I *'' '"'"'^^^^ '^^ ^^^^ a m ghty [or you, 'bout three o'^lU/'IS^conc'^^^^^^^^ ^^^ in izing pat on the back. concluded, giving me a matron- be.S; pSirl: ^^''' ^-^^' "*^-e's all the cham- -IveTnT tmbe' s'^^^^^^^^^ ^«^« do not make them- to me before. But I^rnfat I^''^^^^^^ handmaid, guidiilg her S and^,''^'^' ^*^ li"J« Midge for hersomewhlterrfticlvements t^^^^^^^^ "°^ superintending were ail in wonted order In .hi . ^^^''ooms, parlours, house! occurred to me a nZL^trnTlZ""^ '^V""^'"^^^'^^^^ thought, and care and labour n?!L "^ °'"*'^ *«tivity, and founSation on which the hab?tu/«^^ ^"^ ''^''^ ^ n^ake the my daily life ^as built' td I mrtt'.?"''* *"^ composure of among the saints. "^ ' *"** ^ mentally voted Mary a place ™'r„feJ^XrX'^tn1":L-?"«' - - the .o. ko" had passed, when 1 S°!X o?'S^"^J»"- '"' half an Thwe he lay, scarcely warned fhLi^?,f ' P»«P " him. whiteness upon him. ' "rough, with a sort of chilly i«n ;Sr4 f, ""'«'' " -hy don't this lire burn , This turkey ^es to toast, by talk turkey ' to ^^ giggle. She ^ begau to fear I s relieved by a eclaring • in it like a bawn le to see ladies de of delight, want a mighty ud put him in 'g me a matron- all the cham- 5t make them- /8 had seemed 'tie Midge for uperintending irlours, house, experience, it activity, and to make the composure of ^ary a place ad lifted my on him, and me the most fe, suddenly eyes. After a-closet, and till half an 3ep at him. 't of chilly ^his turkey A MISTRESS WITHOUT A MAID. 245 Oh, dear me, mum ! you've forgot the drafts is shut " said Midge, just as if I had ever thought of drafts, or supposed th^ie was any craft or mystery about them. ^^ Midge however, proceeded to open certain mysterious slides :^r^:tT '*" ^ ^^^ ^^ ^^^^^''^'^''"' ^^^^^ -- ^-d: "That will do splendidly," said I, "and now Midop ^o an^get the potatoes and turnips, peel them, "and' h^e'^hem .Jr^^V^r '°^'^^ away merrily, and I went on with mv china-closet arrangements, laying out a dessert, tUl suddenl^I smelled a smell of burning. I went into the kiLhe„ a„d found the stove raging like a great red dragon, and the Zt ie7ln'my%':'' ^'""^ ^'^ ^^^" '^^^' ^ puff of burning fum^ "Oh, Midge, Midge," I cried, " what is the matter? The turkey is all burning upl " and Midge came running from the " Why mother shuts them slides part up, when the fire rrpfs agoing too fast, 'said Midge-" so ; and MiJge r^ai^rulfted the mysterious slides, and the roaring monster frew Zm . But my turkey needed to be turned, and I Assayed t^' turn him-a thing which seems the simplest thing in Hfe! till one tnes It and becomes convinced of the utter depravity of matter The wre^hed contrary bird of evil ! how he slSd and hd mm, gettmg hot and combative, outwardly and inwardlv ' How I burned my hand on the oven door, till finally Tver he flounced, spattering hot gravy all over my hand and the front breadth of my dress. I had a view then that I never had h^ before of the amount of Christian patience needed bv a cook I really got into quite a vengeful state of feeling with the mon- ster, and shut the oven door with a malignant^ Tang as Heu sel and Gretel did when they burned the Sd witcK thefei; But now came the improvising of my dessert ! I had projected an elegant arrangement of boiled custard, with sponXX at the bottom, and featherv snow nf «„„.*■ '♦u!" T°^®^T® "^^ the bottom, and°feath7ry-sf ;-f-gg^^^^ To^ir^ ^y' , —v arci-iojcu m a nigh cut-giass dish rnamenta tli« taUa ° e ■» «">" composition, ^^^ ........ ^t^^.. strikingly ornaments the tabVe*^ mi Illll ! ( I ' WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS, jn/icllt^rrs'^,^^^ ^t'ed custard. I ,,, 3,,^ ^ ■Tne mysteriousness of r,o. , . ^ howr T S ? ^ **^ ^»^ng discoverfiH },o ®^<* so"^ mother. 11 ^it MFSTRESH WITHOUT A MAID. 247 with foamy billows of w^.^l^f ^^'*^' dish and covwed it perfectioners could do it " and «h« f -^ ?^!'^.'" "^^^ " *« d«m for me at the dinne/ hou'r • Tnd I Veih ' ""^ '"'"'^'^ '^"^ gle and burned fingers wa^ nn I V ^^"^^^'^^"ng my paststrug- services. ^ ' "^^ °"'>^ *"" 8^*'^ ^o humbly accept her looktauxn^'r'^h^j: rw ^'^ ^^t.^- '''^' »>"^ ^'-^'^^ and retired to wash mv hnf .V. /' *?^?°^ "P *^® ^''^-^ey, make my toilette ;trrwLlo'ar:tt;'an^"at^ '''?'' -^"^ volummous robe, and with uns, "fi: I HM ^ «kf T'''"^ ''' *. wit^^r/l^itadtl^^^^^^^^^ t^^ r^ -n out down for a nap than to have eZ/^ T'^ '**^"' ^^^^ '^^'^ hostess. Talk about wom«n^ ^^^^ ^^^ P*'^ °^ charming they come in from the caZ oTbS T ^'^^ «°^"^' ^^ef this sort of thingwent on much & Harl'''^^^^^ ^^ meet me with a smile and a anni^^' m^ ^°"'^ ^ave to spirits at this endTf the Wer^ H ^""^ '"?^^«' *« ^^^V up my I summoned m/enei^esarS w^T^ '^^^ ^"* ^^^ «"ce; rene and freshes TnThiiT;^\''"'' "^^^ dressed, se-' through our dinner withnnfTl.^ >PPT*^' and we went a welljtrained Srl'dtd^ttfr^ '" "^'^ ""^'^^ "- torl^stdltTs urulfc^^ ^Y ^T^r, I was as- coffee had always been one o? o^t «^ •' ^^^'^' «^^^«^ which r had often received sneci J olT?' P°'"^'' ^"^ ^"^^ <>« xivji.i.t |jvttrcu Out ur mv rott'pa n/»«- i ,. t ' « ' ^•'^tt«y 248 defect by beginning WE AND OUR NEIQHBOUBS. the last book an our ge - animated conversation |ntIoman had publish, ' on the merits of Harry was saving, and. "u''f„'*f 'S"" »'. .">» obltaL tC™ a ^--/was saying; anrtooVnfpT^'^^ *^, the obligfr dinner aJI alone." ^''"^^ ^^'y' «<>"«• I had to get the " Nev:r"mind thlZZ^%T'\' ^^ ' " '^'^ ^^e good boy And, after we wereTlone th!f ^-'t "P^ **"»«•" * mired me. and I goHuttl ttke^bl^^^^^ ^^T^^ -^ a^" to have made my coffee. ^"^^ ''^^^ <« ^ee how I ought as th:uZT^:itT&rT' "^^^ - --^ to the point expedition to our Sh«i f^' 7^^ "^^^^ ^^^-oss on a gossS pounded the inquiiy « m>' '^?"^"«' ^"^ *« who! fo "^ like Mary's ? " ^ ''^' ^^^ ^^«'t my coffee clearTnd £' nor Sng1:^l^^^^^^ didn't put in no fish-skin ''S'ome lr?sh-S tf ^ ^'^"^ •" Pinah. "WhenegSipTte^^^^^^^^ ^'^ egg," continued have no clarer coffef 'n mhe " ' '' ^" '«^- ^^^'t nobody -nt^^hrmttt JC!i^^ ^^ - practical experi- mis ress of the situation ^^1 ^''^"''«^«' »»' '^"'•W '» Cdf in r2,?T8''-'»» »»»»&' most &"* T"^' J»"'' "'1 S. ba k bread's buttered, dat do? doT rS ' ** ''"''"'« "-hich sidett home -fore you «rant it°? ^"~ ^'^ P*'"'/ »llera sure to come oxercrsetflt^L'iar ^'t^r ^''»>;' '"■^ ^"u sh„„M„, ca^, authoritatively. '•rUZlaS'-- ?,'"^''«> '«'«" Dor " You needn't talk tn^. u *>"''"™ nimd— " ^ «»»," .responded MraB?,::, in" "''""^"'»'«'' »>i»">' sfnce you've got sot on Jack, why, have him you must. Doss is nothin" w spirit ^'"' ''»'»'»'""'' that r' said Mrs. Vetser^ith W^""' "nT' ^T""- " Hain't 1 heard my Bible read in ^ do~r "n '^.'" de golden city, and how it^says ' Wdoi? vm, T* KK?°" ' 5" ^"^ """^ ^' goWen streets, now I tell Mprt t- d^:t A^^diS^ ^'^ ''- '" " »nch^"ai*s'tit;' i : . '^i^'^hS':^- in " ^ "^ ''^^ ""'- with Lnted soap, Tui crbJd'hiTwI are'Lr™mTtifi nh J« C«~? M '"'^ ^^."^*'' -' ^"^ ^^"'^ !»« trail dat arnl^lc a siuk drain! Dogs lies total depravity, and hes it i i m 252 WE AND 017R NEIGHBOURS. Jook Jack un "'^ ^'^'^"' *^ "»ake Christians , '"okingoutof the wtadow ift "T' ^ <'»"«'y- Never I, '^^ " People talk as if if ^ '''^" -; he seeded ,ik?k':L;ltt'V"'' T"^-^^^^^^^ comW,. P '"^''" ' »d she said the ooCr^^^T^^ w so lovely. She talked ^Th ^''S*'"i'">. looks like hw «L' w were there. S^ t„vT>? ""'' '"'»■ «o long, the !«!,'/ '' i^oor good Miss Dorcas harl «,- .u fupenonty to any toilefvantiS bt^v'iP""' » ^^O" e:^lw vague picture, there rose ^,n kV^'' ^ousehold. In a^ort I f 1 'em. But I'll 1 home, see if I Jcision thatcar- ^h up the china, is and go across »g; and by the Never mind > added, seeing s up and down said Mrs. gs, ^ IS. It may t a baby, and >ve that ; and ' company for ^ou were fond Dorcas, cheer- le about him. But here's jp the china hat new cap i let her see Henderson as very be- fs. Betsey ; f^e her, and le last time 'he can see ?ry exalted were to be IgencT to- eing grave a port of 3, v/hou it lie in that e steps in A POUR-FOOTED PRODIGAL. 053 iJinrf 'f *"^ silent rooms ; and questions of little shoes and little sashes, and little embroidered robes had filled th!' tn represents the ye,y height o^ cruelt^ty L WlC of a Z^r Dogs are the special comforters of netrlected anH fnr .,. IS. m our view, a nobler creature than a man Tho Lb 254 WE AND I ! the communitv^^ ^^^^^^b^ a much more Drofif»Ki judicious use could Z^ 'F'^^' «^oreove? tS' '""'?^'^^' ^^ out human brutes ^,?' '"•'^' °^*h« "ty S J^^ "^^^^^ ^^''re always Jived .m/?? •'" '°^otherin/DoP? ^ "' '"^^»'"«g icne/hor "^^^ *^-i.ght and IdS 1^": 11^- human spSel'tV-' """?<"'*! aW in vo™f '^''?'"'« ''<»• din o~. andTuSn ' ! i'S ^ir-'';f»^SnSCrt"' ""^ the nature of the ^ Tj : "^ '^®» ^is destiny havJ«„ ?^ * ^o^e Miss DorcC Uv ;: '^''^^*^^«' a« the canineraS^?"^ '""^^ '"«» of iwff aJlevn an^ '^J"}gs . and so he was JpH ^~^"*'^,*ua boiios was bury bTnes fn f rT'''«**« ^wiHailt .f ^J*'-'^ "^'g^bour from the verv 111 ? ^^^^'^ Street was i „? 7®» the mixed be wasres^Sd tt ^'"'^*'^°°« ^ndZ>d bC ''^^'^ ^'^ ^i*" lite the rit of i if 5''?^'"^ P^rt of hS timp t "/" '° ^bich ^^Cn^£H;i?^» -o» ^ and luxury of th^K • ^^'^^ ^^^n mistress of »n f? ^^."^''^^oted return to th« jS! ?'''''®'* "'^on in I>Z Ll^}^ ^^ brilliancy " a tongue laurtiJv - RS. ^le m^-mbar of that a much m,>re ■pound ir, sM«,n«^ ' 'honest curs who ' ^ >^ell as they s faults were >nlv 'atpdado-;-acir. easevei wai?,»ed »s^ to »;.!e besiS of »fcedandiiiHuper. sference for dirt animals of the tness /asasore ng maiie him of ^egenera%,and •tended to keep and bones was 'ore neighbour- ing home and ^hich formed nis marketing An old lady ouW not sui ^en the mixed relief to him four to which » short, Jack, wy tired out ed drawing- 'is freer dog- 3 four-footed je brilliancy flonging to \d said that wexprp 'se-coloi.;-t ^'\?, fc I.e A FOUR-FOOTED PRODIGAL. 255 mouth, and enjoyed the sensation he excited among the does of the vicmity, of the tears and anxieties his frolic was creating at home. But, m due time, the china was washed, and Mrs Jietsey entered with some interest into preparations for the ^\, evening. ^ *' .^Miss Dorcas and Mrs. Betsey were the earliest at the Hen- aofson fireside, and they found Alice, Angelique and Eva busy arranging the tea-table in the corner. " Oh don't you think, Miss Dorcas, Mary hasn't come back yet, and we girls are naanaging all alone," said Angelique : " you can't think what fun it is ! " R 4 > "Why didn't you tell me, Mrs. Henderson?" said Miss Dorcas. "I would have sent Dinah over to make your "Oh, dear me, Miss Dorcas, Dinah gave me private lessons day before yesterday," said Eva, "and from henceforth I am personally adequate to any amount of coffee, I grow so self- confident. But I tried my hand in making those little bis- cuits Mary gets up, and they were a failure. Mary makes them with sour milk and soda, and I tried to do mine just like hers. 1 can t tell why, but they came out of the oven a brilliant grass- green— quite a preternatural colour." " Showing that they were the work of a green hand," said Angelique. ' " It was an evident reflection on me," said Eva. " At any rate, I sent to the bakery for my biscuit to-night, for I would not advertise my greenness in public." ■1 ^"' Z^ ^^® S^^"8 ^ introduce a novelty this evening " chestnuE^"*^"^ ' " *^ "^'^ ' ^'^'^^'^ chestnuts ; anybody can cook Yes," said Eva ; « Harry's mother has just sent us a lovely bag of chestnuts, and we are going to present them as a sensation. 1 tnink It will start all sorts of poetic and pastoral reminis- cences of lovely fall days, and boys and girls going chestnutting and having good times ; it will make themes for talk." .u"^™!"!*® ^y" ^^^^ Angelique, « where's Jack. Mrs. Ben- thusen V " Oh ! my dear, you touch a sore spot. We are in distress about Jack. He ran away this morning, and we haven't seen him all day." Sfi J I 256 WE AND OITB NEIOHBOUaa ter. Jack ff'th^ j ™/ S,l\^ ". '^^^ « "neighbourhood m»t- wits Wgether to \Z hL J okiT' h"^" ""'' *» P»'^' 4^lr„^^,„t^r"^eLtu^•H •■ ^''<' p""" "f our " Do you think anvhn^,, V ^ , ^"^"^^^ '^ gone." verypure br^ed, and verv S,..W .'T ^ "Jack is a dog of a Sttm for him." »" ""-y valuable. A boy might get ,„!"' ;j " Thai ™'i''''i£'Un°" R"?-'" ««id J-. her eyes. ^'"'' *^- ^'"»"V said M«. Betaey, with tears in ^toUtld t^'y^i^i flto '" ^""i -- if h" kaa been contrivance, ingenuitv .„T "^ wonderful instances of th« getting back hC"^' ""^ P^-^verance of these cCu^^ in " Well," said Jim " T L-«« reporters who go ail up aTd*o™*^f M ""^ P'"™ ^oys and "Ueys and lanes of New YoVi ? .'™ '"ghways and byways «d ril furnish them w"IaiSS°f"f t''» '^^ «^™"«.' ;f want h,m ; and 111 be bound welH^'^K''' '?'* '«" «>«■» S~ict~tiS"T old lady, and excited in her Lsom thl k • 'L^^ ^>^ S^^^ little The eveninff nassft^ " "«r oosom the brightest hopes tual comers feftCoul a^fc^t' "^^'^^ '^^^^^ habi- "lent that a return to one's ol ^ ^T f^ «^^ ^^ «W enToy- Alice, Jim Eva A n^ ? ° ^^*^« ^^^ays brines ^ forthcoiingVh^L^^^^^^^^^^^^ St. J^hn Sssed the ists of purchases to be made of thkit^^^^^^^ ^"^ °»ade them. ""« 01 ^nings to be distributed among ■""S'l"™ !™ """' ""' "" "*"' '"^'"''" "'^s'- whose°mSie«'J{vrit «me to\fe*''.r'» P»<" "Wldren, to buy pretty things, I feeTml'dt'^eS *'""; ?"!* ?" ""*W ~P°°™ to got bright, attrac- A POITR-FOOTED PRODIGAL. urhood mat- all put our » Jim ; let's jride of our lice. is a dog of a ?et quite a th tears in ' has been ices of the eatures in boys and [ byways, 1 corners, tell them hcoming. into the its, with »od little he habi- y enjoy- Jsed the d made among laid St. lildren, money attrac- 257 tive playthings— dolls with fine, fancy dresses, and so on ; it gives a touch of poetry to the poor child's life." " Well, I've dressed four dolls," said Angie ; " and I offer my services to dress a dozen more. My innate love of finery is turned to good account here." " I incline more to useful things," said Alice. " Well," said Eva, " suppose we do both, give each child one useful thing and one for fancy 1 " "Well," said Alice, "the shopping for all this list of eighty children will be no small item. Jim, we shall have to call in your services." " I'm your man," said Jim. •' I know stores where the fel- lows would run their feet off to get a good word from us of the press. I shall turn my influence in to the service of the church." " Well," said Alice, " we shall take you with us, when we go on our shopping tour." " I know a German firm where you can get the real German candles, and glass balls, and all the shiners and tinklers to glorify your tree, and a little angel to stick on the top. A tip- top notice from me in the paper will make them shell out for us hke thunder." Mr. St. John opened his large, thoughtful, blue eyes on Jim with an air of innocent wonder. He knew as little of children and their ways as most men, and was as helpless about all the details of their affairs as he was desirous of a good result. " I leave it all in your hands," he said, meekly j " only, wherever I can be of service, command me." It was probably from pure accident that Mr. St. John as he spoke looked at Angie, and that Angie blushed a little, and that Jim fellows twinkled a wicked glance across at Alice. Such accidents are all the while happening, just as flowers are all the while springing up by the wayside. Wherever man and woman walk hand in hand, the earth is sown thick with them. It was a later hour than usual when Miss Dorcas and Mrs. Betsey came back to their home. " Is Jack come bon j ? " was the first question. No, Jack had net : .me. I' 1^ ,' ■,: rmi % I ,■! i 1 ' I %«i:. 258 WE AND ^i^'.i'? ^l^/OHBOURS. 8ho CHAPTER XXXIV. GOING TO THK BAD. wreaths of grounSe ^n^ • ^^ ^^ *^" ^"'^^^ of loceriel on sale, a„/selIingCk?y TJjf ^^""^'^«S «*' ^^^y^^^U of green began to adom thp J 7 "^^ '"^ ^'^^hors and crosses merchantable articlelnThe ^r^ 7hef ^r^«' «"^ ^i ?' '*«*'«"8- TeLtint chests of tools for litt mastet S '" !i^' ->dowsX,f the attention of papa to tht "iS «^^^\and labels to call confectioners' windo^.. were J ^l^t'"' ^^ ^'^« P^^«enr. The work of eveiy fanciful devi e Ly t"^. ^i:^ "^ '^"S*'' ^ost nn/-Kf S"^''^ chocolate, ^ndSar S ^°°'^'"^' "^^^vellous possible device; and bewildered frowT-r'^''^^ ""^""^''^ ers came and saw and bouX fa^f Ti T^ dressed purch as ^hopmen could tie up and^ >retnt tb ^ *^ '^" ^^"^« «* he stores hung out every DossibiJ!n. J'^' «• The grocerv strings of turiceys anrcht£n"^^''*^^'\^f *'««^al ^heer.^ Lo7 »»a^se .: of cranbernVs boxes 'f ^'•'" ^""'*^^« ^^ celeiy red artistically arranged, andta^L.tj--- .lit?"- <>^%' ^^-irioCuias greens, ad- GOING TO THE BAD. 259 ew York was 'tiou. Every d to look its 0^ groceries ; i' holly, were 8 and crosses and were a ivere flaming ictions, and ng and jost- > side in the ' while the nd so busy ntion. The stmas shop- its window itiiing that leavy hard- Tempting 0W8 ; little bels to call lejiT,. The Jgar frost- naivellous y of every d purchas- nds of he e grocery er. Lo;^ elery, red of figs, reeus, ad- i dressed themselves eloquently to the appetite, and suggested that the season vf festivity was at hand. The weather was stinging cold— cold enough to nip one's toes and fingers, as one pressed round, doing Christmas shopping, and to give cheeks and nose alike a tinge of red. But ncbody seemed to mind the cold. " Cold as Christmas " has become a cheery proverb ; and for prosperous, well-living people, with cellars full of coal, with bright fires and roaring furnaces and well-tended ranges, a cold Christmas is merely one of the lux- uries. Cold is the condiment of th^, season ; the stinging, smarting sensation is an appetizing iciuinderof how warm and prosperous and comfortable are all within doors. But did any one ever walk the streets of New York, the week before Christmas, and try to imagine himself moving in all this crowd of gaiety, outcast, forsaken and penniless ? How dis- mal a thing IS a crowd in which you look in vain for one face thai you know ! how depressing the sense that all this hilarity and abundance and plenty is not for you ! Shakespeare has said, Hov iserable it is to look into happiness through another man's e>ts— to see that which you might enjoy and may not, to move a world of gaiety and prosperity where there is nothing iOf you ' " Such were r s^e's thoughts, the day she went out from the kindly roof that id sheltered her, and oast herself once more upon the world. Pooi hot-hearted, imprudent child, why did she run from her only friends 1 Well, to answer that question, we must think a little. It is a sad truth, that when people have taken a certain number of steps in wrong-doing, even the good that is in them seems to turn against them and bee aie their enemy. It Avas in fact a residuum of honour and gener- osity, united with wounded pride, that drove Maggie into the street, that morning. She had overheard the conversation be- tween Aunt Maria and Eva ; and certain parts of it brought back to her mii.d the severe reproaches which had fal'en upon her from her Uncle Mike. He had told her she was a disgrace to any honest house, and she had overheard Aunt Maria telling the sauu thing to Eva, -that the having and keeping such as she m her home was a disreputable, disgraceful thing, and one vatii 18. Then she listened to Aunt Maria's argument, to show i- 1 in. I I :'' 'J I! I H 2C0 WE AND OUR NEIOHBOITRS. Eva that she had better send her mother awav an.l fab« »« ,u " Well," she said to herself, " I'll mi flinn t'™ ; .Jk^^ ^"""u T"?' "'*' ^™ ''"d «P»''«» 'o hw, the hoDe and confidence she had expressed that she rai?ht ve Mr^^^ h„? uSy Z: " """' """ """ "»'•• "- "'* f-™"°^-«" the beUetd'^ri^f .°^y!^?^ ^'';"8'" """ of h"' *« «»n,ebody ^fhltfep^^^^ pia^^a^dT^^s^etd^l-^^^^^ do something, she would once more make herself known to her friends. Maggie had a good gift at millinery, and Tcertafn odd times, had worked in a little shop on SiXnth ^Trl where the mistress had thought well of her and mad« h./^^^^^^ in\Lf 1 1 ^ ^^^ moment, however, that she found herself hi «? i^ ? ^'^''Tj '^^ ^^ ^^"'y «»»« t^ad come. Evidentlv her story had preceded her. Miss Pinhurst had heard all th« particulars of her ill conduct, and was ready to the best of her ability o act the part of the flaming sword that turned everv way to keep the fallen Eve out of pfradise ^ - I am astonished, Maggie, that you should even think of such a thing as getting a place here, after all's come and Jone that you know of ; I am astonished that you could for onf mo^J thmk of 1.. None but young ladies of good character ~ca^"be" GOING TO THE BAD. 2G1 received into our work-rooms. If I should let such aa you come in, my respectable girls would feel insulted. I don't know but they would leave in a body. I think / should leave, under the same circumstances. No, I wish you well, Maggie, and hope that you may be brought to repentance ; but, as to the shop, it isn't to be thought of." Now, Miss Pinhurst was not a hard-hearted woman ; not, in any sense, a cruel woman ; she was only on that picket duty by which the respectable and well-behaved part of society keeps off the ill-behaving. Society has its instincts of self- protection and self-preservation, and seems to order the sepa- ration of the sheep and the goats, even before the time of final judgment. For, as a general thing, it would not be safe and proper to admit fallen women back into the ranks of those un- fallen, without some certificate of purgation. Somebody must be responsible for them, that they will not return again to bad ways, and draw with them the innocent and inexperienced. Miss Pinhurst was right in requiring an unblemished record of moral character among her shop-girls. It was her mission to run a shop and run it well ; it was not her call to conduct a Magdalen Asy- lum : hence, though we pity poor Maggie, coming out into the cold with the bitter tears of rejection freezing her cheek, we can hardly blame Miss Pinhurst She had on her hands already all that she could manage. Besides how could she know that Maggie was really repent- ant 1 Such creatures were so artful ; and for aught she knew she might be coming for nothing else than to lure away some of her girls, and get them into mischief. She spoke the honest truth, when she said she wished well to Maggie. She did wish her well. She would have been sincerely glad to know that she had gotten into better ways, but she di«l not feel that it was her business to undertake her case. She had neither time nor skill for the delicate and difficult business of reformation. Her helpers must come to her ready-made, in good order, and able to keep step and time : she co ild not be expected to make them over. " How hard they all make it to do right ! " thought Maggie. But she was too proud to plead or entreat. " They all act as if I had thu lllfl-CrilA a.nf\ alloom • anA rraf. T !l h . 1 ft 262 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. moving in the best VnoZ^L } . ^^" ^"^^ sorrow was ried to^a good pfous Sv ''^' ^^"^^"^^' ^^ttered, mar- honours omei ^ ' ^"""^'^^ ^^"^^"' ^°d carrying all the couMteL'"atd\1 W^ '"' ^'^^ "^ ^^'^ ^«r hi- ? ^^ l^y forgiven ? There wasr^. Inf^'";- ^"-^ ^^^ °^"«<^ «he never be herlelf-and there wln\a^d^ '" '\^"^Si^ ^^^^3^ «-idto streets, pictures without wnrT^ °'-*-' '^^ ^^'^^^ those cold when eviyrdy^attered anH r'" Tr!"^ ^° ^^^^^n^' «f ^^ys There is nrposLston wLh h ^^''"^ t""' ^^^ ^^ °»ost of all. personal beauty rfrirlLrnTl' '"'^ ^'"?^^°g h^°^««« ^^ to theindividull^d?tha any oTher""' T^^^^^^^ ^t"^"S wealth, or talent or Jn ,« i« 5 i ^^ *"''"^® rendered to woman gifted M-iirbelutvh- « ?' ^'''?''^^- ^ '^'^^ «' all things to gold--though alas fT*'",Vf "'"!f "^ ^^^^ ^"^'^^ like fai^giftf . it is Tld 'nn f • ^ ^""^ *"*** «^^" ^^"''^s out and slatTionVon if hands^ '''"''"^' ""^ ^^^^^^^^ ^i^t postelTrnd?n"&bf^^^^^^^^ ^' dazzles first its sid^jj and r^^pZ'l^-'^^Si:^^^ ^-^es out- strlrpetletrstL^t: ^ V^^^^^ f ^ ^"-^ ^ ^^e and talLll kinds of EnsJt^^^^ ^^^ ^"^ eyes, her sparkle ar^d Audi and dlmnll ^ I '''" *^^ ?"'P««« «*' "taking the sparkling of a brook H^^}.T ^'T ^ f/^ ^^'^^ ^ ^^i^^kiS ture, made a show pW^^^^^^ «*r«l««« crea- her gratincation ar d adoSn^^^^^^ ^'' '^'""'T ^'' proud and fond • and T^! ^"®^«^other was only too f^ up to giiiodLj he^w^: :x 0^' i::rs^''^' l"V:S^^^ ete aTd of one of the magnates of New Y^k f.^°'^?P'h^^«»"^^ right, of course for her to w! Zc '* "^^"J"^ ^^^^ ^^en aU and fine clothes to be imnir, "^^,°"?/"?, ^^««« ^^^ flowers pretty foot on the neero?"hr:oTld 'm "''' "'^ '' T^ ^^^ cannrinr^*.«. «,-ft.j ,^-71, '^'tt*^^-*^- Many a youn^ Am«n- mm '>^y^l-j ^ tf .- GOING TO THE BAD. 263 tte, or let me Why should of the earth, [ sorrow was ittered, mar- king all the lim ? Thy ihe never be lotly said to i those cold iind,ofdays most of all. homage as y belonging rendered to A child or that turns I turns out comes dirt lies first its lazzles out- ing in the and eyes, of making ha stick in 'eless crea- rnings for only too in Maggie she was ease and h Avenue, 5 been all d fiowers to set her \g Ameri- an indul- gent papa and mamma, is no wiser than Maggie was ; but no- body thinks the worse of her. People laugh at her little saucy airs and graces, and predict that she will come all right by and by. But then, for her, beauty means an advantageous marriage, a home of luxury and a continuance through life of the petting and indulgence which every one loves, whether wisely or not. But Maggie was the daughter of a poor working woman— an Irishwoman at that— and what marriage leading to wealth and luxury was in store for her 1 To tell the truth, at seventeen, when her father died, and her mother was left penniless, Maggie was as unfit to encounter the world as you, Miss Mary, or you. Miss Alice, and she was a girl of precisely the same flesh and blood as yourself. Mag- gie cordially hated everything hard, unpleasant, or disagree- able, just as you do. She was as unused to crosses and self- denials as you are. She longed for fine things and pretty things, for fine sight-seeing, and lively times, just as you do, and felt just as you do that it was hard fate to be deprived of them. But when worse came to worst, she went to work with Mrs. Maria Wouvermans. Maggie was parlour-girl and waitress, and a good one too. She was ingenious, neat-handed, quick and bright ; and her beauty drew favourable attention. But Mrs. Wouvermans never commended, but only found fault. If Maggie carefully dusted every one of the five hundred knick- knacks of the drawing-room five hundred times, there was no- thing mid ; but if, on the five hundred and first time, a mould- ing or a crevice was found with dust in it, Mrs. Wouvermans would summon Maggie to her presence with the air or a judge, point out the criminal fact, and inveigh, in terms of general severity, against her carelessness, as if carelessness were the rule rather than the exception. Mrs. Wouvermans took special umbrage at Maggie's dress her hat, her feathers, her flowers — not because they were ugly, but because they were pretty, a great deal too pretty and dressy for her station. Mrs. Wouverman's ideal of a maid was a trim creature, content with two gowns of coarse stuff* and a bonnet devoid of adornment ; a creature who, having eVftS. HAW' nnt anvthinof in fha ■matr nf .-v'»>^n«v.».,4. -,- 1 -J --• ' J J-) •.! i.it^, »»t»j \Ji T^i n^niiicilu uF iUAUI'V' j whose whole soul was absorbed in work, for work's sake ; content R w wrn i'mwrnimmamem* 264 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. with mean lodgings mean furniture, poor food, and scanty clothing ; and devoting her whole powers of bod; and soul to securing to others elegancies, comforts and luxuries to which she never aspired. This self-denied sister of charity, who s ood as the ideal servant, Mrs. Wouvermans's maid did not in the least resemble. Quite another thing was the gay dressv young lady who, on Sunday mornings, stepped forth from the back gate of her house with so much the air of a Murray demoiselle that people sometimes said to Mrs. Wouver- mans, Who is that pretty young lady that you have staying with you ? "a question that never failed to arouse a smothered sense of mdignation m that lady's mind, and added bitter- ness to her reproofs and sarcasms, when she found a picture- frame undusted, or pounced opportunely on a cobweb in some neglected corner. Maggie felt certain that Mrs. Wouvermans was on the watch to find fault with her-that she wanted to condemn her, for She had gone to service with the best of resolutions. Her mother was poor, and she meant to help her ; she meant to be J^ -T!' 7^' '"^ her own mind, she thought she was a very good girl to do so much work, and remember so many different things in so many different places, and forget so few things Maggie praised herself to herself, just as you do, my youn- lady, when you have an energetic turn in household matters" W ^''^"fv. ^"^ n '*"''^^' ^"** **"«*' *«^ ^'i^™ "gamma's par! lours, and then call on mamma and papa and all the family to witness and applaud your notability. At sixteen or seventeen! household virtue is much helped in its development by praise Praise is sunshine ; it warms, it inspires, it promotes growth • blame and rebuke are rain and hail ; they beat doln and bedraggle, even though they may at times be necessary. There was a time m Maggie s life when a kind, judicious, thought- ful, Christian woman might have kept her from falling, miebt have won her confidence, become her guide and teacher and ff'f « f • Irf!" ' r ^^"l^^r «^^*'« ^"d quicksands which beset a bnght attractive, handsome young girl, left to make her own way alone and unprotected. Butit was not given to Aunt Maria to see this opportunity • and under her system of management, it was not long before J>xaggic 3 teuiper grew iractiuu«, and she used to such "purpose GOING TO THE BAD. and scanty and soul to ies to which harity, who d did not in • gay, dressy rth from the >f a Murray rs. Wouver- have staying a smothered ided bitter- id a picture- yeh in some »n the watch oan her, for tions. Her neant to be was a very ny different V things, my young Id matters, mma's par- te family to ' seventeen, j by praise. !S growth ; down and ry. There 1, thought- ing, might acher, aud inds which t to make portunity ; ong before Jh purpose 265 the democratic liberty of free speech, which is the birthright of Amencan servants, that Mrs. Wouvermans never forgave her Maggie told her, in fact, that she was a hard-heartid, mean, selfish woman, who wanted to get all she could out of her ser- vants and to give the least she could in return ; and this came a httle too near the truth ever to be forgotten or forgiven Maggie was summarily warned out of the house, and went home to her mother, who took her part with all her heart and soul, and declared that Maggie shouldn't live out any longer-she should be nobody's servant. ^ This, to be sure, was silly enough in Mary, since service IS the law of society, and we are all more or less servants to somebody J but uneducated people never philosophize or gen- era ize, and so cannot help themselves to wise conclusions All Mary knew was that Maggie had been scolded and chafed by Mrs. Wouvermans ; her handsome darling had been abused and she should get into some higher place in the world : and so ^e put her as workwoman into the fashionable store of S. S. There Maggie was seen and coveted by the man who made her his prey. Maggie was seventeen, pretty, sUly, hating work and trouble, longmg for pleasure, leisure, ease and luxury • and he promised them all. He told her that she was toe pretty to work, that if she would trust herself to him she need have no more care ; and Maggie looked forward to a rich marriage and a home of her own. To do her justice, she loved the min that promised this with all the warmth of her Irish heart To her, he was the splendid prince in the fairy tale, come to take her from poverty and set her among princes; and she felt she could not do too much for him. She would be such a good wife, she would be so devoted, she would improve herself and learn so that she might never discredit him. Alas ! in just such an enchanted garden of love, and hope and joy, how often has the ground caved in and let the victim down int^. dungeoa* of despair that never open ! . Maggie thinks ail this over as she pursues her chee-less aimless way through the cold cutting wind, and looks into face S-5^L if l^\ ^^ "*^ ^}9 ^""r ^^^- Scarcely knowing why she ti« iv, she tooH a can a«.d iode up Lo the Fark, got out, and wan- 266 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. trl "^iw '"^ T ^""^ ^""^^ *"*°»« ^^^ leafless paths from which all trace of summer greenness had passed. hp «^r 5"- ^-^ '^'■"^Su '^,^V^'"«d past her. She looked up. There he sat, driving and by his side so sweet a lady, and between thm a flaxen-haired little beauty, clasping a doflirherchub^^^^ The sweet-faced woman looks pitifully at the hagf^ard wearv face, and says something to call the attention of W husbanZ An angry flush rises to his face. He frowns, and whips up the i irP ■ 'M^ A SOUL IN PERIL. 267 >ss paths from ked up. There and between in her chubby aggard, weary r her husband, whips up the J possess Mag- ler ? Nobody 11 against her. lie CHAPTER XXXV. A SOUL IN PERIL. T will be seen by the way in which we left poor Maggie that she stood in just one of those critical steep places of life where a soul is in pain and peril ; where the turning of a hair's breadth may decide between death and life. And it is something, not only to the individual, but to the whole com- munity, what a woman may become in one of these crises of life. Maggie had a rich, warm impulsive nature, full of passion and energy ; she had personal beauty and the power that comes from it ; she had in her all that might have made the devoted wife and mother, fitted to give strong sons and daughters to our republic, and to bring them up to strengthen our country. But, deceived, betrayed, led astray by the very impulses which should have ended in home and marriage, with even her best friends condemning her, her own heart condemning her, the whole face of the world set against her, her feet stood in slip- pery places. There is another life open to the woman whom the world judges and rejects and condemns ; a life short, bad, desperate; a life of revenge, of hate, of deceit ; a life in which woman, outraged and betrayed by man, turns bitterly upon him, to become the tempter, the betrayer, the miner of man,— to visit misery and woe on the society that condemns her. Many a young man has been led to gambling, and drinking, and destruction ; many a wife's happiness has been destroyed ; many a mother has wept on a sleepless pillow over a son worse than dead — only because so^vc^ Vv-.^man, who, at a certain time in her life, might have beer; f,;^ - d ^q honour and good living, has been left to be a vessel r.; w?'Ah fitted to destruction. For we have seen in Maggie's hxatory that there were points all along, whore the giri miglit have been turned mto another and a better way. 4. IE :h *.-*«"?■?*-— w'l*™ 268 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. lU; .!:i!i nf 'L^"' Maria Wouvermans, instead of railing at her love of feathers and flowers, watchine for her halS oL i • than just after a humUiating feB'lith feaS ,1?^"™^^^^^ death are cold and bitter, and nobody wants to be drowned hem, with their oA,n works and ways, hurried, driven with time strength, or heart-leisure for more than theT^; ddnT What IS one poor sou struffgling in the wTJ !.■ ■ ^' stream to the great pushing%rbuslrwo^ldr""^ "^ Nothing m the review of life appears to us so p tiful as thp absolute nothingness of the individual in the leTmZrf human existence. To each living bre^fchimr S • . ^'^ the consciousness of what it deS and Si • '"^ *^'"' and to eveiy one else so faint Itl f.int ev!^; .n'.r '''''"''' and dearest, compared to what it is to oL^^^^^^^^^ '' The'S Suppose you were suddenly .truck dowu to-day by death in Jin;: A SOUL IN PERIL. 269 any of its dreadful forms, how much were this to you, how little to the world ! how little even to the friendly world, who think Avell of you and wish you kindly ! The paper that tells the tale scarcely drops from their hand ; a few shocked moments of pity or lamentation, perhaps, and then returns the discus- sion of what shall be for dinner, and whether the next dress shall be cut with flounces or folds : the gay waves of life dance and glitter over the last bubble which marks where you sank. So we have seen poor Maggie, with despair and bitterness in her heart, wandering, on a miserable cold day, through the Christmas rejoicings of New York, on the very verge of going back to courses that end in unutterable degradation and misery ; and yet, how little it was anybody's business to seek or to save her. " So," said Mrs. Wouvermans, in a tone of exultation, when she heard of Maggie's flight, "I Jurpe, I'm sure, Eva's had enough of her fine ways of managing ! Miss Maggie's off, just as I knew she'd be. That girl is a baggage ! And now, of course, nothing must do but Mary must be off" to look for her, and then Eva is left with all her house on her hands. I should think this would show her that my advice wasn't so altogether bo be scorned." Now, it is not to be presumed that Mrs. Wouvermans really was so cruel as to exult in the destruction of Maggie, and the perplexity and distress of her mother, or in Eva's domestic dis- comfort ; yet there was something very like this in the tone of her remarks. Whence is the feeling of satisfaction which we have when things that we always said we knew, turn out -just as we pre- dicted 1 Had we really rather our neighbour would be proved a thief and a liar than to be proved in a mistake ourselves ? Would we be wiiiing to have somebody topple headlong into destruction for the sake of being able to say, '* I told you so ? " Mrs. Wouvermans did not ask herself these pointed ques- tions, and so she stirred her faultless coffee without stirring up a doubt of her own Christianity — for, like you, and me, Mrs. Wouvermans held herself to be an ordinarily good Christian. Geatle, easy Mrs. Van Arsdel heard this news with acquies n£jr\f-A ^^ il/ aII mi«ia ai\ t.nof i\^ arrmri a t^iiri rtfr onri OAf.f.T question . and, on the whole, I'm not sorry, for that end 270 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. much to ,lo with such people " "^^"^ *^ ^*^« ^« thi; so'jo'nraSf nof ^^^^^ ^"^^ ^ dreadful thing loet." -^ "^ a girl, not older than I am, should be utterly Maria, with her usua viUr IL ^.•'"•^ ^^^?^ '^- ^^ ^a« Aunt catastrophe. Eva had^Lt -Tl^'^^-^^^^ ^^« precipitated the everything up. I must ««v T t^ i ^*"a came m and broke " Oh, Alicl how cai vo;,ilt"^ "^T* ^""'" ^« ^ nuisance." aunt is thinW of no?hW In '«'.^'H^«" know that your vance you girlsl" ^ """"^ ^ ^^^ ^« ««rve and ad- and we'i^Kf^^^^^^^ ^^ -» will and pleasure ; up or kZk down to suit her TJ'" V^"' t^^ ^^"*« *« «^^ ^^^/f ^ir fB^-^ ^ hoji^^s h-s ^.>^stepC^r-^^-sLrSi^r-^ vit: ini iStirii :r,i'.:raV^t^^^^^^^ -^^^ '-? ^ ^- was particularly interested in tCse lis Thi f''''' ^ "'^^" to me insipid sort of peon e InS f f f i J^^y/^ways seemed tentive to them and cSitrfhl 'l?*'^'^'^ *° ^*^ ^^^^ ^t" view, is a sort of manSuverinl .w .'"*^°»^y' ^^h any such it doesn't seem Wst^ ^ ^^^^' '' ^^^ '«P"l«iv« to me ; to 2T^eiz s. \:x^T' ^"' '-' -^^^ ^^ ^"-^- can't lei ulXn?- thTt^t ^-^"^ «*i-g of is that my aunt ahead for us, gettW ^^^^^^^^ ««^T^ f^r us, plaWng all that ; and then beSe shl T "'"'*. ^' 1*5^"^^^^ *«' ^«S interests, our cSiencHs aH th« iT*/"^^"^^*^^ *« «»r we ^on't like her b^^r \t 't.^'t^' '''^^}l^S us bec^. f^on't like her better. The truth IS, Aunt Maria iuse IS a con- A SOUL PERIL. 271 stant annoyance to me, and I reproach myself for not being grateful to her. Now, Angelique and I are on a committee for buying the presents for the Christmas-tree of our mission- school, and we shall have to go and get the tree up ; and it's no small work to dress a Christmas-tree — in fact, we shall just have our hands full, without the Stephensons. We are going up to Eva's this very morning, to talk this matter over and make out our list of things ; and, for my part, I find the S'.e- phf nsons altogether de trop." Meanwhile, in Eva's little dominion, peace and prosperity had returned with the return of cook to the kitchen cabinet. A few days' withdrawal of that important portion of the house- hold teaches the mistress many things, and, among others, none more definitely than the real dignity and importance of that sphere which is generally regarded as least and lowest. Mary had come back disheartened from a fruitless quest. Maggie had indeed been at PoughkeepsiCj and had spent a day and a night with a widowed sister of Mary's, and then, follow- ing a restless impulse, had gone back to New York — none knew whither ; and Mary was going on with her duties with that quiet, acquiescent sadness with which people of her class bear sorrow which they have no leisure to indulge. The gi»l had for two or three years been lost to her ; but the brief in- terval of restoration seemed to have made the pang of losing her again still more dreadful. Then, the anticipated mortifica- tion of having to tell Mike of it, and the thought of what Mike and Mike's wife would say, were a stinging poison. Though Maggie's flight was really due in a great measure to Mike's own ungracious reception of her and his harsh upbraidings, in- tensified by what she had overheard from Mrs. Wouvermans, yet Mary was quite sure that Mike would receive it as a confirmation of his own sagacity in the opinion he had pro- nounced. The hardness and apathy with which even near relations will consign their kith and kin to utter ruin is one of the sad phenomena of life. Mary knew that Mike would say to her, '^ Didn't I tell you so 1 The girl's gone to the bad ; let her go ! She's made her bed ; let her lie in it." It was only from her gentle, sjoupathetic mistress that Mary met with a word of comfort. Eva talked with her, and pncour> 272 11! Ill" WE AND OUR NEIOHBOUHS. all about New\^ k- W^tr^^^^^^ '"^.^^- ^^"^ws knew If Maggie were there he Zldbe^ur^ ^^'^ «very things and she IS anywhere in New York I will J! ^ u"""'. ""^ ^"' ' " *"d if persuade her to come bkck .nd hT ^ *? ^*'^' '^'^ ^^a* " and tell your brother an^tS ^bout it ^m^"^' A""^ ^^"'^ ^^^ dare say we shall get Mfg^ie back JT,"''-^ ^^ ^"^^ ^ I he knows anythin| aboutf '' ' *" «^^"S "^^^ before chetl^^'^^^^^^^^ to Mary in the kit- fluttering, worried litTWrB^tTev^^Tj!^?;:' "^ ^°** *^«^« P^or, in to bewail her prodiL 8o„ d?S^f ^"''"' T^^ ^^^«oi«« nights, no tidings hadten rid ' ^°'""^ '^^^« ^^^^ «"d been S ^^ g Rr'^lf ^^TS' f ^%^^^ ^- I «^ just so sUly. / .. jij^adl^'^^^^f ??'^««' "but lonesome without hixB •' ^ ^ "" ^'^'''^ of him-I feel so 7^^o^^^^^^^ -ual wa^ i,p,,,.,^ feel as you do. I thbk L^r^f 'I^T.^^'-^^^^^^^yo" «^^^^^ were given ustolove andtfwe Jo whl'^*'"'^""^^ P«'« feehng an^ous about jhemwhVn^h:/r gon"' "^ ""'^ '^^^ butF7on'^ifrktfLfwr' /^ ^ -"^ -ly tnew- treated ; but then jSiiTdo^^rthl^^^ "' ^.^^^^« -«" and it would come hard to him f^^ . ^^"^ "'®*^ to kindness, and be kicked aCt a„d ab2d iZv'" '."!^^ that might happen trWml J nS^-W^?^^"**^»g« and the tears stood in the S^'st7hl„«^ ' *?J ^^"^^^ «"«d "-1 ger lewoman, in attestff,^^ ^ lu ^^®' «f the faded little old wrought up,"' she c ntinS '^hat^T/^t^' "^ ^^^ «« Heavenly Father to take r«r«\p actually prayed to my thatwasWane Mr HenTe^^^^^^^^^ ^« y«» t^nk . " No, dear Mr^. B^ev I S L V •.'* "^"^^ '^o* ^«^P it." »t was just the most s2ki J?Hi'^^,"^. ^* ^?! Profane ; /think «ing j'uu coma uo. Y'ou know . A SOUL IN FKHIL. 273 3 door of her rted hf^r all allows knew thing— and 3r; "and if Eva, " and I don't you know ? I ight before in the kit- ihere poor, > had come 5 days and f^thing has I haven't ^ dare say yes, « but -I feel 80 impulsive >u should mb pets »n't help knew— vas well indness, id thirst, It things ried "— ittle old got so i to my u think sip it." I think ! know our Saviour says that not a sparrow falls to the ground without our Father, and I'nv sure Jack is a good deal larger than a sparrow." " Well, I didn't toll Dorcas," said Mrs. Betsey, " because she thinks I'm foolish, and I suppose I am. I'm a broken up old womiiu now, and I never liad as much strengt fi of mind as Dorcas, anyway. Dorcas has a venj strong nii aid little Mrs. Betsey in a tone of awe ; " slie has tried a e could to strengthen mine, but she can't do much with ni. Just at this -nstant, Eva, looking through the window down street, saw Jim Fellows approaching, with Jack's head appear- ing above his shoulder in that easy jaunty attitude with which the restored lamb is represented in a modern engraving of the Good Shepherd. There he sat, to be sure, with a free and easy air of bright, doggish vivacity ; perched aloft with his pink tongue hanging gracefully out of his mouth, and his great, bright eyes and little black tip of a nose gleaming out from the silvery thicket of his hair, looking anything but penitent for all the dismays and sorrows of which he had been the cause. " Oh, Mrs. Betsey, do come here," cried Eva ; " here is Jack, to be sure ! " " You don't say so I Why, so he is ; that dear, good Mr. Fellows ! how can I over thank him enough ! " And, as Jim mounted the steps, Eva hastened to open the door in anticipation of the door-bell. " Any dogs to-day, ma'am ] " said Jim in the tone of a ped- lar. " Oh, Mrs. Henderson ! " said Mrs. Betsey. But what further she said was lost in Jack's vociferous barking. He had recog- nised Mrs. Betsey and struggled down out of Jita's arms, and was leaping and capering and barking, overwhelming his mis- tress with obstreperous caresses, in which there was not the slightest recognition of any occasion for humility or penitence. Jack was forgiving Mrs. Betsey with all his might and main for all the trouble he had caused, and expressing his perfect satisfaction and delight at finding himself at home again. " Well," said Jim, in answer to the numerous questions KTiiuTTCi^:rvi a^/uii iiim, Inc iai;i/ 1;> mill/ iJixuii auti i were iook- »; f ing up something to write about in a not very elegant o^ ^< IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) V V *; *1^^c>^. <^ / >IPPLIED^ IIVMBE . Inc .^S 1653 East Main Street ■s^s -^ Roctiester, NY 14609 USA ■s^s-^ Phone: 716/482-0300 -=r-== Fax: 716/288-5989 © 1993, Applied Image, Inc., All Rights R«,8e(ved '^ p^t^ V o 274 «ite.l. WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. reputable quarter of New York »nA ^uAa i sing one of the dance CsL thatil u "^-^^ f ^^ ^«^« P««- Jack in her arms and Sw «ft g"i Maggie darted out with poor dog belo™l to thi f ^ "^^ ^^ "**"«' «he said : ' This He has bin S„ awav 117^ T"'^"" ^''' Henderson's said I would, and tC^i sn^H . Q ^ ^"" *^^" ^''"^ ^^«k ? ' I better come Wk toor o you^^^^^^^^^^^^^ '"*^' ^'^^^' y«"'d fully about y7u7 Bu^^e^rrd q^i^^^^^^ ^^T said about me the better,' and ran in/ ^' '"^ '"^^' " nv, u j"^ ,T;'"'^» ana ran m." must be glad to geVrrSrof ^„„* Sr^^'Tr"'' ''^' y™ home with him and eet him wLTL ; J^f ' ' ' ""«" ••""■/ And do look at this^r bb„" ^wt^'t Y''" f'"^''"'^'*"'' be«n a ribbon? if, thick with ^ea" ami dfrtTJ'tT' '""^ >- o„_ve™l with flea.. O Jaokf rk.tlft'lrble'y^ha'Jr went"'fftnh^''sh7„rrwU&T'^r''"P^-™'-'^^ awurance. '"* *"* "'"»' *«8g'«'' »if of impudent wouwL^Lfl'litienl''''-,". '°«'" '"'•• -"»• "Nobody " Rn* o "'*"/"® patience with a ragamuffin bov now i " do for me or Tmr of the Ws to In w P'*°* ''''*'* '« "»"'«"y-" talkmg about. You nnvsp n«..u """^/now what you are thought of." ™"''* S» ""ere. It isn't to be " WelUow teVS ■■'"' liT "'"''' 'r " ''« "'ere.'- minister ;hnas«nde^e'n o'lf""' ""'.«'««» Methodis partoftheeit, ntf^^.^. ^LV.r^TJVlf/r^^ A SOUL IN PKRIL. 275 3 were pas- d out with aid : ' This mdereon's. back 1 ' I gie, you'd ing dread- * the less 5praved at 5ing Jack. her ; you inst hurry 'A a state! ever had dare say you have inal, who mpudent 'Nobody )w ! " Maggie ? ould be a rat-pit, and had it cleaned up, and tliey have opened a mission house, and have prayer-meetings and such things there. I'll look that thing up ; perhaps he can find Maggie for you. Though I must say you are taking a erreat deal of trouble about this girl." " Well, Jim, she has a mother, and her mother loves her as yours does you." " By George, now, that's enough," said Jim. " You don't need to say another word. I'll go right about it, this very day, and hunt up this Mr. What's-his-name, and find all about this mission. I've been meaning to write that thing up this month or so." Joons of i matter t would ated for romised e way." f^ou are ' to be re." bhodis St tha«. ept fo, .'- > i iji i lliiuliil ii D S : 276 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. CHAPTER XXXVI. LOVE IN C'HrtlSTMAS (iRRENS. ^HE little chapel in one of the mth abundant coS^iZ f7oZ 1;!^^''^ T' ^^''^ '^^'^ bunches of vermilion Wt rsweTand !C '' ""^ ^"^^^ branches of the black alder acE'.T ^ ^f^nson-studded real traditional holly whirh In I ''■''"' *^ ^^^ P»«t"»-e- Of a scant supply^eserved for rn^^^^ "^""'"'^ v'? ^ '•^"<^>^' ^^^'^ was Mr. St. John ?ad been bL^Tn ^°«"^^We decorations. and gilding, iUumlarg tl^lTu7 f '^ f^' ««^-^«' He had just brought forth his iLt IffnT ? Scriptura mottoes, vourable light for Inspection tTI! ^k n^"^ P^*^^^ ** ^^ » ^a- cessful young clerevX^^ H *^^ ^"-fortune of every suc- veneratL ffcuSof eVr^^^^^^^^ and enkindle the who follow his footsteps and rS hi. t' ^^^/"^ '^«""g' a sort of adorine rantiirp T^of ^ .• ^^^ '^^ »»^* '^ ^^e woman this kind of l:zz iwnrcUett 'v " ^ ^^ ^^^^ man, and he cannot helo it Ti L T, ^o* of every clergy- any of the shadows wffi, re Jj^^^^ ?ccepted as we accept and got along with by the k?nd nf ^ '" *^^ P^«'»'« «f li^, we dispose of any of Its infett^ common-sense with which seemed rather to increase a Wnd nf „ ^l^ ^'"^.^^^^ ^" ^^serve around him, mak ng oHim a 1.^ Tf ^'^^'^^ ""^^^ J^"«g When, therefore, KonX LT n '^'-^''^^y ^'^^^ Llama were inscribed in L'^on chl^^^^^^^^^ ^^'^ -^ich ' streets of Jtivity and place was Baskets their sides fid bright n-studded Jture. Of there was oas. r, colours, mottoes. it in a fa- >very suc- ^indle the d young, ays with ) ridiciile line. It woman, fact that y ^^6rgy- 'e accept 3 of life, li which is kind ; reserve ch hung i Llama, n which f iii ^ SKIRMISHING. LOVE IN CHRISTMAS GREENS. " PV l!^""^ ^*" '"ft^^e flesh And dwelt among us,' 277 there was a loud acclaim of " How lovely ! how sweet ' " wifh goana of intense admiration from Miss' ASgLl G sherTnS Miss Sophronia Vapors, which was echoed in -oh8'''and l^ahsr'from an impressible group of girls on the right and Angelique stood quietly gazing on it, with a wreath nf ground-pine dangling fromVr han'd, but she safd notWng "' Va^kSdetr ""' '"'^' ""^"^ ^*^*^ ^^ y-think'Miss " bu{_?' °^ ^^^ '^^''''''' *'^ P'^">^'" Angle said, hesitatingly, u w n^^f ' " f *^^ ^'- ^*- •^«*^»' quickly. Wei , I don t know what it means^I don't understand it." :t'J- o""^? immediately read the inscription in concert with Miss Gusher, who was a very medieval young Uy and &hFyrgt"^ ^^^'^^' ^' ^"«^« ^--' - 1^'^- - -y l^Tw '}l ^'"'""« ?'^ P^""^'" »»d turnl a^ay, and Sus ed r'eTred' rne?.""^ ^' ^"""'"P^"^ ^^^^ «^^ was'makingTa TiT-^^?i''^^"^^ ^,f ® ^^"^ *»^ continuous in their acclaims and Miss Gusher talked learnedly of lovely inscriptionslnGreek and Latin, oflfenng to Illuminate some of them for the occa^Ton s'fSsfieVthan befot' '" ^"' "^^'^'^^ '^ ^^« ^^^-^ ^- About half an hour after. Angle, who was stiU quietly busy err'''' *^^ri?Tt "^'■^^'' "°^«^ the shade of a large MMr St' JoK ^f ^'^ T'^t '^'''' ^^ surprised ?o Jind Mr fc>t. John standing, silently observing her work. " I SUTvTwV h 'f'f\ " ^"""' **^*" y«« did mine." an^ -.wu y *^** i ?'^" * ^^^ y°^'" said Angle, colouring and «,ith that sort of bright, quick movemeat thai gave hf; the air of a bird just going to fly. ^ " ^^: ?®" ,^^d not my, but you left approbation unsaid, which amounts o the same thin^ You haye some objection T see and I really wish you would ^ " " " . J . ' ^ o"*'* tr S me frankly what it is. 278 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOUllS. O Mr. St. John, don't say that ! Of course I never thought of objecting ; ,t would be presumptuous in me. I rll\Wdo^t understend these matters at all, not at all. I just don't know anything about Gothic letters and all that, and so the ca^ doesn t say any hmg to me. And I must confess, I though^?' rhnfl? t"'^^' J'^*' * P^^'P^'Jy ^*»*^«d y^^^S daughter of tha Church, began to perceive that her very next sentence might l^n^?' T 'Tt^? ^^' * criticism Vn her recLrandi she paused on the bnnS of a gulf so horriWe, « with pious awe- that feared to have offended." ^ Mr. St. John felt a very novel and singular pleasure in th*- progress of this interview. It interesteS him tHe d fferedi wi h and he said, with a slight intonation of dictation Angie.^ '"""^ "*" ^''"'' *®"'"^ ""^ ''^''^ y^" **^<*"g*»t' Miss. .al?V''*^"'^'J'"^? this-that if /, who have had more edu- that whv T.' ^Z^^yT^'i^^ ««*^?Jars, can't read a card like ?nll ^' ^^ T^^ "^u- J "" "^""'^ «"^^ *hat an inscription in plain modern letters that I could read would have more effect, upon my mmd, and I am quite sure it would on them " I thank you sincerely for your frankness. Miss Angie • your suggestion is a valuable one." ^ ' Pr'V^'^V .•*'"* ^°^^^' "^^*^ mediaeval inscriptions, and Greek and Latm mottoes, are interesting to educated, cultivated p^ple. The very fact of their being in\nother language gives a sort of piquancy to them. The idea gets a new" colouring from a new language ; but to people who absolutely don't un- derstand a word, they say nothing, and of course they do no good ; so, at least, it seems to me." JtlT^'''' '^"f^ '^^^ Miss Angie, and I shall immediately put my inscription into the English of to-day. The fact is Miss Angie," added St. John after a silent pauJe, "I feel more and more what a misfortune it has been to me that I never had a sister. There are so many things where a woman's mind sees so much more clearly than a man's. I never had any in- timate female friend/' Here Mr. St John began assiduously tying up bttle bunches of the ground-pine in the form wS Angle needed for her cross, and laying them for her. iNow, If Angle had been a sophisticated young lady, familiar ^Mth the tactics of flirtetion, she might have ha^d preds^ the I.OVE IN CHWSTMA8 GREENS. 279 prop«r thing »t hand to answer this remark ■ a. it. .„ 1 tept^tyng her b„neh» assiduously, TdteCg 'a' S et- laid dow„"a bunci'oygTe? ^^h^.'''' '" " '""'" '«»»■ ■« •>» he first came within the sDhfirl «ri r "*' ^''''"' ^^® ^^^e chXrkn„'wl£ri:\iZr*'y'.f "^'' *« bidden S? IndVe-^li '--■•^^'tirU^pas^r,--^^^ .trJ'„K rst''S;T'*'"'^n'*? ■?■"■ »» fi»<>'y fibred and B«t .f the« be m the circle some one fe-Spr^ence which 280 WE AND OUR NEIOHBOURH. all the while is sending out an indetinite thoutrh Dowertul «n chantment, the developing force is still more markS ui " 7^ n^^vej- suspected himself of the ability to be so agreeable as he found himself in the constant reunions wWch from one cause or another, were taking place in the little Hen- derson house. He developed a talent for conversation, a veTn of gentle humour, a turn for versification, with a cast of thought rising mto a sphere of poetry, and then, with Dr. Campbell and Al ce and Angle, he formed no mean quartette in sinclnK in all these ways he had been coming nearer and nearer to K^; V'\^r ^ ^^^".« ^^^ *^""- He Remembered appoJte y what Montalembert in his history of the monks of the MidZ Ages says of the female friendships which always exerted such a modifying power in the lives of celebrated saints ; how St Jerome had his Eudochia, and St. Somebody-else had a sTster and so on. And as he saw more and more of Angelique's character, and felt her practical efficiency in church worrhe thought It would be very lovely to have^uch aTeTall to himself Now, friendship on the part of a young man of twenty.five for a young saint with hazel eyes and golden hair with white, twinkling hands and a sweet voice, anf fn Lem.' Wage of vaiying glances, dimples and blushes, is certainly a most interesting and delightfuf relation, and M^. St. Johnbiilt It up and adorned it w th all sorts of charming allegories and figures and images making a sort of semi-celestial affair of it It IS true, he had given up St. Jerome's love, and concluded that it was not necessary that his " heart's elect " should be worn and weary and wasted, or resemble a dying altar-fire • he had learned to admire Angie's blooming colour and elastic step, and even to take an appreciative delight in the pretti nessesof her toilette ; and one evening when she dropped a knot of peach-blow nbbons from her bosom, the youn/divine had most unscrupulously appropriated the same, and, tiking it home gloated over it as a holy reUc, and yet he never suspec^t^ that he wa8 m love-oh, no ! And, at this moment, wh^ Us voice was vibrating with that strange revealing power tha? voices sometimes have in moments of emotion, wh^n the very tone 18 more than the words, he, poor feUow. was ignorant that hisvoice had said to Angle, «I love you with all i^ heart and LOVE IN CHRISTMAS 0RREN8. 281 Ull me ^rttwr," he said, entreatinKlv ;; Arthur ! " she said, still « i„ . drZ^' Sav^o"*^. he^JifJ ^™ *"?f I"". ™y good angel, my guide 1 ;; y«»! Arthur,- she said, still wondering, little* Y™ ^Zitttt''^-^ "■ ^^^' ; " » ""1". over so "Mr ^razi-'i' ttVorce'rMir^'ui'^ -" ' " t..i^%=.Vtr;i'^e;^LTti:j;'!i^^^^^^^ /^//. A /4/^ u ""^^ cvmgreen wnich Jiad concealed this 1 ttip hirasdf for ^ ""^ • '^'"8 *"• "•'•oh ho condemned th"churlh IhH J -"ost zealous and efficient daughtTr of .ot.o?aS.loths a'nd hTdtlrno'wrt:'*h?m''hr "r"' to join a 8isterho<;d *heneverCwrZl^,„ " J"" '''*''"''"'? «he always admired him, ^ways S^t^ hf^ ""T *"** J^lrh^t'"GusW at :Ee" bTtoT'^r'tr^' "i ""^ '"•"™-' o1t^CalCS"a-^'--^^^^ £ ^^^;Kif-7"wJ^:H^r^^^^^^^^ bTttv-- '"''"'*1'l"» "^'«on «bout bitJ..i„'. -trietly Church^'', l^f ^my^lntfdSljS. "i?.™Xy^ ^11 282 WK AND OITR NErOHBOURS. r John"?'- ^^''P"*''^ "" ^^^- ^^'"^^ »»'^"^'' yo« -^y. Mr. ^ ''Oh have them by all means, if you can," said Mr. St John Christmas is one of the Church's hwheat ffl«kivala a«5 t a -l anything that will make it beautifulT '' *"^ ^ ***'"*' Mr. St. John said this with a radiancy of delight which Mi«« Gusher ascnbed entirely to his approbation o? her ze^l • buJ that little talk in the corner. For when Angi^ lifted h" e Jes not only had she read the unutterable in hisf but he also had Kid n" t^eTre 't^ '^^^'-^ f '^^T ^' *"^ -en sore'thi g wKiol k- ?"\*® A*'® ^ P"^ *n*o words, but in the light of which his whole life now seemed transfigured ^ ha fJf****°®^*"?*"'*''^"«®*P«"e"c«toMr. St. John and fl!,i «*TO?^y happy, yet Darticularly anxious that M^ss Gusher and Miss Vapors, and all the other tribe of his devoted disciples should not by any means suspect what had feUen out and therefore It was that he assumecHuch a cheerful zTin the matter ot the font and decorations "Angle,'' he said, "you are going to give me that cross T want It for my study, to remember this morning by '' " But I made it for the front of the organ " ' Never mind. I can put another there ; but this is to be mne," he said, with a voice of appropriation. ' iwant t be- cause you were making it when you promised whit you did You must keep to that promise. Aneie " ^ "Oh, yeg, Ishall." ' « • " And I want one thing more," he said, lifting Aneie's little glove^ where it had fallen among the refuse piecel ^ What !— my glove ? Is not tliat silly V " No, indeed. ' " But my hands will be cold." " Oh, you have your muff. See here ; I want it," he said " because it seems so much like you, and you don't know how lonesome I feel sometimes." uum, Know now " Poor man !" Angie thought, and she let liim have the glove. ou Bay, Mr. [r. St. John, and I admit which Miss r zeal ; but ) him since >d her eyes e also, had I something le light of John, and that Miss tis devoted fallen out ; rul zeal in ;ood little 0S8. Just John was cross. I is to be »nt it be- you did. ;ie's little ' he said, now how he glovo. * LOVE IN CHRISTMAS OllEEN.S. 28.^ " sRe r, tl3l'° ^"'E "^-^ •"' '" » '«''« of discontent "Oh iJ *^' »*'?*»(•■«." »nd does «> much." tre.t?ng&?^:dinrfhr ''"»'''.'»«?'«'""«'"«» '»"«. "• ant there is no darkness or shadow of death where a hand ZZr ' *'"'''■ ^ "*"• " *« '"S; through the whole J'a ^'V?'" '5?'"' " J"" '*» »•> ">« re" of them, mv dear ».1,» .noh things'; St loweS-'M^'st SoTnl' i'»lr-^rrd ready to bum in^^'ott"^ "''"'"« ' ' "^"^ "^ ^«^«. « n!J?^* °®' ^ ^''^^^ ^^ ^<^™« appearances and exDresaions ' Whv TCt ^^^ '' *''*'."''^' *^«^ is * flirtetion got up " « Oh ^JI ^ ^ T '^ "^^^y beautiful," said Miss Valors """- q^"'V' "P- oecween them, the rumour was «nr«»^T«„ "a growing in all the band of Christian worker^ ^ ^ *"^ Lii 284 WE AUD OUR NEIGHBOURS. CHAPTER XXXVII. THEREAFTER? Angelique among the oLCS^ts;™^ ^ ^"^ "-l purposes equivalent to an eneaMiim,?. "**»», a'l'ntents and aotualW at that time a*? ZS|rofCr£ "• '"'"' ""^ "»' -raTt^ieTh!'j:fr:ir''"'™«'?^-p'-'>g«>.-i.igh «%" Fou arT^on?^ "" Pnnciple-and acts ibomin of Wgh pr2,d^:,r:a^ guMed"t?o^ "'• ^'^ '''"''» *"» "» honestly soon/r die th^S ^ at^ST"' ""' "'"' """'" s-A«st'A\t r^tetisn-rf. tgttoTno-; has been sayiSg and lookin/ anrt „f !i. ur*".'"S "^ "hat he impose npon him as rman^rft "!.''* »W'g?tions which they fe, only a reclme Ld Tudent h»l ^'"'"'1 ^*"' »" «« hfe in a study, where roSr.nA ™« P,'*.""*'' ^^ ™yage of «re but so many Sts on rnlrT •' ""l ^""^'"' »"<» ioals finds himself somewha ignSt i^ Z.T, '"'^^''^^ ""a' h" rocks and shoals are quit? aether ..ff ',.""•"«"''""• "'''ere V down one's schemTandTaw of litlT' , ' '^ """ ""'"g t" positions men and women anJ ,1.1 .* ^'""^y- ainong sup- among real ones, each "ne'oTwhom .J '" "^ "' ™' '" "f" veloping f„,.e of sunshCon tt^eCrT" ™ "'"• '"« •»- tried Sdf^XttTnflntcl '^Tk '" '" ""^-^'f «" he has of man over man how much 1™ tf "thT ' t?f '''."'*' '« '"«' a..d revealing power of womarorer ml^*' ™btle developing the first nart of hi° life v i u *"' ^*' John, duri»>'» " hi. hfe, had been possessed by that sort of dis* THEREAFTER ? 285 world, the John and Qtents and hn had not ige,inhigh s abomin- i is a man i^ho would is sort of t to know s not. He [ woman- ' what he hich they 1, all his 'oyage of fid shoals that he n, where thing to ong sup- ut in life ^ the de- I he has is is true i^eloping during t of dis- tant fear of womankind which a person of acute sensibility has ox that which 18 bright, keen, dazzling, and beyonTws Xer of management, and which, therefore, seems to him possesZ of indefinite powers for mischief. It w'as someth?^ wS whlh he felt unable to cope. He had, too, the common prejudice agamst fashionable girls and women a^ of course wanS in sTThSd^t' '^r^"' ."P^" hischurcTcar"rwit1i" no relattn tn th^^^^ '""vT "^ '"«^«' ^"^ *« «t^«d in but th! nf « ! «"«Pl«J<^"« light guerilla force of the Church out that ot a severe drill-sergeant. aJ}}\^'a ^'^""i'J*^^"*' *h. child whom he ha^ undertaken to drUl had more th.n once perforce, and from the very power of her womanly nr e, proved herself competent to guide hTm ?n many things which belonged to the ver/essence ?f his profes Sh l"'l^T'^- ^"«^" ^^ *>«^« able to enter Ses whence he had been excluded ; able to enter by those ve?v at hZTLfi ^'^', '"^ ^"^''^ ^"^ P^^"^"««« whfch had firs^led him to set her down as unfit for serious work He saw with his own eye. that a bright "little spirit with !n^ „ . ^ l^^I"^ John Pnce in his surliest mood, could sin- handf L ^ht ?'" '" t^T '^^ ^' ™ persuadable in fe hands as a bit of wax ; that she could scold and lecture him at that he, St John himself, owed his etitree into the house, and p^sSSeS " ' ^^^^^^°^^"' '^ ^"^^'« ^-«^ *- -^ Instead of being leader, he was himself being led This divine child wa^ becoming to him a mysteiy of wisdom • and so far from feehng himself competent to be^her ingtructor he came to occupy as regards many of the details of his work a most catechetical attitude towards her, and was ready tTacc^nt almost anything she told him. ^ ^^ St. John was, from first to la«C, an idealist. It was ideality Enlunh"^ ^T ''•^"^ '?^ ^"^^^^ ^"'i «^^"le chillness oi Ne w ^f f wflT't'''? *"«•?" Pi«*"'««q"« fo^s and ceremonies ot a warmer ntual. His conception of a church was a fair Ideal ; such as a poet might worship, such a^ tbi« world has never seen m reaUty, and probably never will. His conceptbl^ of a life work-of the priestly office, with all that pertains Z ill n 286 WB AND OUR NElaHBoURS. mmm m'.m o^tt^^^^^^^ is above the .atte. with them Whd yrouLZen'^^^^^ ±,Sre^^ "leal of ideals, cami over' L -iu*^" "^^"^^ P^em, and exact definitions-that when tLJ^"^'*^^"^ P^««l«e limits St U""''' '"''• ^hat he Taid" '^''^''''''""^^^^rshadowed who/on^einfarufe^^^^^^^^^^^^^ that class of clergymen a general way, to many and Wt ? ^""^ ^'^^^^^' ^esoKi" stove at the same timeTUotafe ^.^f^.anda cooking" have the conditional refusal offL, ' -^ i'^'^^^ ^on»en, and they go to make proposals ^''''' '^ their pockets, ihen divin^^^^^^^^^^ sX'e^oTL'^T^^^^^^^^^^^^ i'^- ofa which women can have no part H.h Tu ^^If^onsecration, i„ tarn strains of writing 1^^* Stt^^ ^''" ^^^^^^^ted by ier works furnished most%f the stuls of h "^Tu "^"^^^^^^ ^hose from settmg it down in a general wI^.k^'J^^^'^ - «« that far »arry, he had, up to this tf me sLnS M^'^i^f * ««°^^ time a contrary direction. He hTd takL ' '^'^^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^^ quite taken, no steps towards th« ntw" T '^'^^^^ l^e had as yet scheme; but tLre CS vaLKf^ r^^""^ «"t of Iny a celibate guild-a brotheSod Un T l"^' ^'^^ *^« i^«* o{ ,7^^^^ New York, some of ?he d^vont '"'^ ''^^^^' ^^ ^"sty f' "H^dle ages. A society of brotwT"^'"*"^^ ^^^^«»rs of daily devotions and holy minSraHnn f'/il''"^ '" ^ ^««°d of tant dreams of his future TudSd ' ''^ "'^^ "^ the dis- ^^f^^ ^een like a charmed perplexing, repellent attraction ^'' ^^^"t this dazzling, niethVote he had had but one djs when he expected to see C and%te ' ^^''' ^«^« the not ; and wonderful days were intern, a t^' ^^en he did saw her unexpectedly-L Imtl,^ T'^"^ between, when he ^ We believe it is a fact nofT. ^^ hfPPened quite often fie investigation as tolts causrbuTal' f ^arl/under sc^nti- young people who have fallen into fK ?• *,' "^^ertheless, that each other when separaVd are 111 V"'^ ^^ thinking about m their daily walks^nd l^rTc^' '"T"' ^^h other victor Hugo has written the THEREAFTER ? 287 city 01 JNew York. At certain penods in the progress of thp poem one such chance glimpse, or moment of^meetTng at a street corner or on a door-step, is the event of thHay .nT'J '""^ T^ ""^ A^S^^ ^^ ^^^ «^a«« «n Sunday mornings and at service afterwards. He was sure of her on ThurS evenings, at Eva's reception ; and then, besides somehow when she was around looking up her class on Saturday afteT'- noons. It wa^ so natural that he should catch a glimps7of her now and^ then, coming out of that house, or gdng iirto that door ; and then m the short days of winte;, theVarCss often [hi h«?rt '^V '^''i ^'^"°k ^^ ^« ^b«^l»tely necessar? oJtsoc at^o^hTf.^ir 'f^^ ^'"^^ '• ""^' i" ^" *h««^ °^o«»ents tLfff ! ^ he felt a p easure so strange and new and divine that It seemed to him as if his whole life^'until he knew her had that h. S '' ^°iJ«y'««t . H« pi" himself, when he thought That musf hpTv!" ^rV}''. '""^^^^ ^"^ ^"^ '^^^^r had a sisL Ihat must be why he had known so little of what it was so lovely and beautiful to know. Tf ^.T' ^"^ ^"^ '^^i'^^'- '*'™^' "^* fi^«* fro«» earth, but heaven. It comes as an exaltation of all the higher and nobler faculties Wptrtr/''"'"" ''^^•'^'""'^ noblenet the tS Tl!! . ^ A^' ^^ ^^''S^'' generosity, and warmer piety, it brings bud k X?ir """' '^r "' themselves in spring-time, when eve^y bud 18 thrilling with a new sense of life-they live. ^ Pos^fbTe^ollUf^"^" 1 life-work looked to him so attractive, so rispn nn hi J I ''^^''^'- l ^"^ ^" worshipped the star that had A vet he hSr^'p r*^""f "" y'' ^ *^^"gh^ «f ^he ^^ture. iWf of al^n«f l-ui!l'' .'^"^^ ^' ^ ^^«^«^' ^« inspiration, an image ot almost childlike innocence and puritv, which he re- presented to himself under allthepoetic forms of^aTn^ legend of ChrS old^M:^"''' t tl^ S^"«*^^"' ^he sacSmb ot Ohrist 8 fold. She was the holy Dorothea, who wore in her boso^ the roses of heaven, and had fruits and flowerof Par^ disetogive to mortals ; and when he left her, after ever ^ hldfl^JtV^'rT' ^ ^'""^^ '^^' «»^ leaffrom'thetree of lif^ had fluttered to his bosom. He illuminated the text, - Blessed ^?m m memorial of her, and sometimes caught himself sing- ing: 288 s WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. " M,?" ^"*, ''"T *h^« '^ "iV Star, My angel and my dream." knew himself utterly umtalW a„f u„t LbeVT\t"^ "" '"' tpp 2 Tf «,„„ u . ' "" ^"o "^d never known a si« ^^^^■^om mtssy old millZuTthlthtt """^^ known it-a rations on the pleasanTilrnev to^^ 5'*^" passed by gene- had the least intention i7sayTn^^^^^^ ottSf.^"'^' ?T"^^ when he came to the chan^l 1 h!t ^''^'*.^*^ ^^is kind to Angie piqued by her quiet resoLL^ft.l '"'"^V ?"* ^" ^^^ ^een Of his flock, and, like ZeuLf.h .^ • I'^^J^^^^"* adulation of blush of the maiden M-hoTd T. ^'^P^^^^^ *« g« after the Angie had herhe^o^n o^ln tZZ ht '^'.^f 'T **^^^ with that air of quiet resoCion Xf sho leT^h J"h ^"7^ reserved force in hersplf fho+ hL , "^^^ , ^^o'jf ®a that she had a St. John's secret looked out of his eager eves • and in f».f loof into hisTwr^e't^'doeAorsAtrr''^ rrr' -y. But a woman may look' inU>''lC-^fLri:j.'X^ THEREAFTER ? 289 rlf!/ ^T ^?^ '^''^^'H '" ^S"''^' *»«d in her the concen- trated, condensed essence of womanhood-all its rapid fore- sight; Its keen flashes of intuition ; its ready self-command and something of that maternal care-taking instinct wTth which part ot the less perceiving Adam. She felt the tones of his voice. She knew that he was sav- ing more than he was himself aware of, and that there were prying eyes about : and she knew, too, with a flash of presents ment, what would be the world's judgment of so innocent a b^iKLi^Tht gl!;r '- '-' '-' '-'--' ^' -"^ She laughed a little to herself, fancying her brother Tom's TnT^fw; t^'' or addressing her in th^^e reverentidmlrer and with the be^seechmg tones that she had just heard. Cer- tainly she would be a sister to him, she thought, and, the next Zov 'k'"'?^"' ^^"'!, ^"^^' «^« ^«"^d use her liberty to reprove him for his imprudence in speaking to her in that way when so many were looking on. The little empress knew W ground ; and that it was hers now to dictate and his to obey. ^n m 290 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. CHAPTER XXXVIII. "WE MUST BE CAUTIOUS." EVA was at the chapelthat morning and overheard nfth. conversation between Miss fJiiaW uJ!i S- Vr^**^*^ just enough to pique her curiositrandtirer a£ ^0^' Angie on the verv first onnnrSf' ?^ resolved to caution -re'aths and crosTes wL gS^^^^^^ ff; "*^^"»^- ^^are of to come level through Se stS ti ] afternoon sun began Angie's side, to ta^eVefe ^'itH^^^^^^^^^^^ -- *« I've something to tell vou " shA «a,vJ " **^5 '^^ aXr?^ preparing for di„„o, "d? rr^htt Ife": fold ir°°^sr^ tt'i'Ltiff^'' '"""v-s «»' <>- ^'"'-i to "Well T W^A ^ cultivated woman, I believe." and rfcftLXIir- l^vr"« ^ to»^qt1aJra^^;£::U»'i^^» -- ^n..,, What did she say ?■• she inquired, flirta'rs.^^ "'"""'"' ^-"^ ^'^'J^l Sirf^ »lws getting up " Nonsense ! how hateful ' I'm anrA if «i «« * u j- • that Mr. St. John o«ne and spotrtoTe." "" '""" "' """" Ihen he did come ? " " WE MUST BE CAUTIOUS." 291 • put down.^ I supposed ft m,L h^^ ^ !'^'S"^*" '""^^^'^ »°d went off to my t^^and Jl ."^ stupidity, and so I just corner, and hh Es Gusht . .•''7'^'^ ^"^"^^>^ i" <^h« dark minati'ons. I knew she is v. -1'"^^^^ ^^ i»«- ail that, and that T rHH^rt ^ accomplished and clever and ;: WelH^^^^^^^^^ -^ things." and nLughtTr wf L^fT ''\^^^^^^ ^^^^^ ^he tree, and he insfited on m^teliiSg htthy itdn'tte'^.-"^^'^. "«' tion. I said I did like it fhS 7 *k u. • ^'^^ ^'^^""'"ina- done, but that I d d not tHnl t u"?^* .'* ^*« beautifully poor children and Jks to S«v ^^^^^^ ^*^ ?"y ""'^ ^o those understand: anAfsafd T il -f "P^^^'^' ^hat *% didn't alter it and put it in nlain Fn.!^"!!^' "ght and that he should help it was t^o have a womaSf f ' ^"^ ^H ^" '^'^> ^^^t a " What then ? " quilKikermlTf"/^^^^ ^^P?^^ - earnestly and asked me to cal h?m Arthr ^hl"*^ -^^ J"«t ^ "^tle; he would have me give him rnv'^r"^ ^^^^' '^^^ ^^"«^« «^« ^^ cause I wL afr!^d sol nf^l^''^' ^"^^ '"* ^'* him take it, be- together I Mt^JTf'l ^^""f P'^^^ ^«"^d see us talking I wanted him t goTay"?''"^' ''''' ^^ «^-^<^ ^P^^ so, an! "' Hw^KalTf ""^"^ ^" y'^" ^^^^k «f all this ? " ''more'rn'he"^!^"^ ^'"^ ""^^'" ^^ ^^^-^ q-e^y, "And you, Angie?" : <;hink he's good and noble and true and I Inv« him " As a sisCr, of course," said Eva, laugMng " Well ncrdarte J^^^ those prying eyes are around." of eariv maf ^V. ^' said Eva, with aU the conscious dianHv o- earlj matxouage, •• we shaii have to manage this matt^^e^ II: 292 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. f»ct is, there is LtwL ^ ' ' '^^ ""•""«'' ">" »•'• The things wtn yo„ wl,ir'''*""»i "^J"'' *'» 't*'" of •nan'is'in love w h yoT lltfj,"" '"""T ""'*'"8 that a I know all about t&ble of f^H-r ""' "'^'^?^ *» '''«'• me, what with Mamma A,,„t M. •' "i"^ '.""'' '' «««"" '" it was a perfect m "el* how nlt^' "S'l*" ""' '''^ "' ">*"., Now, there's tharS GrherSrh. '^T^^' l°8«">"' time, like a cat at a mous^ hole • ln!l u- °" *" "'"<='> »" th* -hen we get the Ch^ttLl^L Teldyt'd'Se" fnlh'^K'''''''' and you must manaee to keen »« f.7% » i?" '"" """«». I shall be there, anf llhaFha^'m/lriS rnvVr^"^- mise you. We must trv to Inli ♦! • ^ • * ^^ "^*^' ^ pro- could rivITefrfrafot't^' ^I•™keptit•offasl„„gasI " Y:,u hive? Ohffe »""' '"'"' """^^ "^ S^i-g-" fro^tTlk'in^^^d'i.W vl ^ T'l <•■'> ''•"'P Ji"" Fellows to do for ato^S.^;:^ "^ "' "^ '"' ^ ^'^ f**""/ '""ging ," v°" 1?°'' ™y.'h''t Jim has noticed anythins 1 " aftert'ci^rSa^ihtfJ^^ "' ^»"'"'« ^'^ ««' *i"S I tZghiTias tcalet"' ""** ""^ i'?"'"^ »' ■"" <"*-». l>"t -and it uidremKs me '?^"''?;'i« ""l di^Wov^i of avoid me, and I wond^d whv a 5 ^""'"g'" ^e seemed to healway^wouldSt^i:n^^,^fJj°''t"1.. *"/' '^''^ your evenings first beuan (h»t i.„ ' ' "ot'™"!. when never spoke to me, S vet hk ejl °*™^°S'"^ »«''• »>o. »nd ever I went Tll« s^? ^ ■ ^^^^ *'"' following me where- rouSdCnearly the wh^nvF""'"'^:.'''' *''*'^ ""'■d »'^ then sudden^he ^ml ^1 ZT^ ?"'' "'T '?»''« « """^ i by Mrs. Betiy, aSTa^ m?a Z^ ^ T' "''f ' *"« «'"»g he spoke in -'cCXlmL^ZTll'ZitllZ' •"■' an awful pause, and suHrlflnK v,o ^ * ^" , **^®^ *"®^® was and poor little ' Mrs Betsev s^d ^^m^ *"^ T"' ^^^^ ^^'"^ ' gracious he is;' a^I S'Jhit ?tr''/v.^^ '^^^ *"^ ""■ used to societyl-but after a wh^! I believed he wasn't much y out, alter a while, this wore away, and he be- 'ns aroused, leair. The his state of hing that a ijed to him. it seems to 8t of them, le together. Itch all the 9 be there the things, »8 possible, sad, I pro- leep." 3 long as I n Fellows ly longing irst thing jften, but proved of eemed to boo, why Bd, when me, and 3 whertv 'und and a word ; ts sitting Jes; but lere was f again ; and un- 't much i he be- i " WE MUST BE CAUTIOUS." 293 thTti^r M^o:^H\Zrjl^^^^^^ -^--ted an controvert some of his Sons IV v^''^'''"'' *"^ "^^^^ to to him to find BolTodTthaT^ gather a novelty for, I must say, some of the Vr mp! fi .^' ^'""^ "^ ^ ^»™' make fools of themselves aZthi^ 1.^^ ',^ ^"'' ^^^P^^ ^o past all bearing. If ^y bod^ ^ ;pf ' ''""^ P''^^«^«« "^« would be those silly admiring Zt * u^ ^^'""^^ ^ "»»»» it and eyes always rLed Tadombn" Zt ^'^\'^f^'^^' annoys him. 1 can spa fZ ^^o^^tion, whatever he does. It andh^elikSmebeaus; he sa^sT T^^ '^t'' ^*« *««ti truth." ' '^^ ^^y^' ^ always will tell him the touohed the white imes ovt Ts «r^X*t,r r "^"^Z siz g«:t*<:ia'r^::£7ti^^^^^^^^ Why not? wTsheno?tnl„l- '"'■ ?"* Christmw present stried alorg^htuXoW nZiKMv'' ^nd his thought, Ijgesofabrotir/cSrhelonS ■'■''t'''' *" """P""- them over with her and ,„4 Jl^i "f ^ ^'i ''*"" "''»'' and talk were a few pZu>Z re'ation to thl^ " "^""^ ^ '''°' ">»' *«« which it wouldSZt^?v„.~.. ?^'"™.''''''''«»'-««at«>»t Hendereon Whether S 'i':"^^ '<',6«' ^e opinion of Mrs. any elation .T'httt tttX""^ ten^t"'^"'^ '^ from the vestry arm in arm w,> h An J^^ seen her going away «ay ; but the solemn factTasThat ^hS' we will not assume U> time to drop the lacfcLT^fov^^^^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^«^°^« when a blazing wood firewZvZZnt Aiv^?^"" windows, at the bra.s afdirons, th: d"Tr M^iS^A^nd^t"^ W^'^^^ Ange ique had her Ian full ^f Ilii ^ j^ ^° "^ walked. trim with silver brair Wh"™ Ang^*"'* t hTn^r*'", mtotely per..,sive tongue, and talkSf^iupX'l'of i i ii fineric 294 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. tuming he. filmy trJut, ." d^icfcTer KuTe Si """ side and the other with an air of profou^TeSn "* *.ire, when S^ jZI^rhiltavfnto th^n"". '"''"' T" h^'^•1a'"Si™^3S^^^^^^^^ ;nare agreeable turn than those of oR Waf it noT hlrf 1k) dressing dolls for poor children thin fl k n- ^®"^'" '*^ eyes and p'raying alpL outl^ a 1 erT/^I^^^^^^^^^ 2n7(' itsolved to take down that picture forthwith hA.S^ " i?-^ overcoat in the hall his illiimm/flJ ir He had, m his t^i=i-wl:f SHF^?F^^» - whowasthinkiJ^goFeve^oTe b„\"hers^l''r'^ '"^"'"' '"» «N^ nfwf ?5^ "if r™!"'"* h^^'i^ors uiiconsciondy tock^hlXgeJhtrfr S Ifa^"^"" '^'' "'"^f""^' - «he "I have something for you," he said suddenly i, ;; f r«"»»8 f» -o ' " 'rith a bright, amused look. " Where " Oh how lovely ! how beautiful ! O Mr Sf !..),„ jm do this for me 1" ' ^'^- '^^^°' *»i^ you "WE MUST BE CAUTIOUS." 295 I a pretty pic- tossing and head on one )n. forter in her heart could lour and got What more th Eva, and ture of a St. t, that had ' came over en a much Jt better to ng up one's vn mind he had, in hia 1 snugly in he while he le could see I her hands, resent, she the person >rt, and so citchen. 'ew nearer. onsciously. Uy, as she / " It was of you I was thinking ; you, my inspiration in all that 18 holy and good ; you, who strengthen and help me in all that IS pure and heavenly." " Oh, don't say that ! " "It's true, Angie, my Angie, my angel, I knew nothing worthily till I knew you." Angie looked up at him ; her eyes, clear and bright as a bird's, looked into his ; their hands clasped together, and then, it was the most natural thing in the world, he kissed her. "But, Arthur," said Angie, "you must be careful not to arouse disagreeable reports and gossip. What is so sacred be- tween us must not be talked of. Don't look at me, or speak to me, when others are present. You don't know how very easy it is to make people talk." Mr. St. John promised all manner of prudence, and walked home delighted. And thus these two Babes in the Wood clasped hands with each other, to wander up and down the great forest of life, as simply and sincerely as if they had been Hensel and Grettel in the fairy story. They loved each other, wholly trusted each other, without a question, and were walk- ing in dream-land. There was no question of marriage settle- ments, or rent and taxes ; only a joyous delight that they two in this wilderness world had found each other. We pity him who does not know that there is nothing purer, nothing nearer heaven than a young man's first-enkindled veneration and adoration of womanhood in the person of her who is to be his life's ideal. It is the morning dew before the sun arises. I li . "Where ight in his h gravity, ^ngie," he 1, did you i li 29 WE AND OUR NEiOH BUURS. CHAPTER XXXIX. SAYS SHE TO HER NEIGHBOUU-WHAT ? always kne«- that bo/ would cZe Iw p^lf '™« "■••"«• I alone. How did you hear) ' ^ '"^ ""^ ""« ""'r '•' " Why hasn't he l^n h„,J,r ?? '"' ",° '^'"''>' '^out it." ten u^ (,ho„,d .ttcrrtrd ^s:^^ -P-. 'o no sort'' f ^oToflf 1,;^^'' '""i-r'' '«' ' ""' ">-'» there-, b«e„ a veryldded^brn,aey" a'd" haMf' Z ""'' *■>"' engaged, they ought to be- and „ii '"«' "they are not fellow, I know it must be ail right TVs!: pf ■"?■' '? " ^"^ hdm are terribly shocked IW £ n i; ° K'tushstic young broken ; that she never a^inl^l" "*>' """ ^^ '<"»' « " Ve;y likely TunZ th '^r.fT'" " "''■'gyman." in the way of holy coSences a^S ^It ■ ^T i»'?""Ption trumpery ; but ifl the one th „rneedfSl foTr^^ *'"' "i" "'^' 50ho„U.r the chu„h is a C^,:^^!:^^^ ^^.^^^ we^':„^- '""''"• *' ""» '"P"''! compliment, while the Doctor on;i7iir?rcJ^«i!rn:rs:iff^;:„t*^ k.ew ^, younc man mii«.f .!« o ^ ! • ^ opposing him. I * J..g ^ft..^ raeSdtn aCg an7S"'a;:SlSt'^<' . .u opposm,; a crotchety fellow doea^no g1«A f ^^f^^ 8A\t, SHK TO HKH NEIOHBOUll — WHAT? 297 ? Je, Thavo tlur — they 8." ' les, " It's g while. I ire only let not to tell ; about it." lephew, to i)ut there's rate, that 3y are not is a good 'tic young ler idol is man." erruption i all their A good, I worker, '^'- best doctrine, B Doctor coming him. I iing and fighting kept hold on Arthur »y never rousing Him comhativeness and benig Hparuig of good advice ; and you «ee he is turning right already. A wife will put an end to all the semi-monkiHh trumpery that has got itself mixed up with h , real aelf-denying labour. A woman is capital for sweeping' down cobwebs in Church or State. Well, I shall call on Arthur and congratulate hira forthwith." Dr. Gracey was Arthur's maternal uncle, and he had always kept an eye upon him from boyhood, as the only son of a V vourite sister. The Doctor, himself rector of a large and thriving church was a fair representative of that exact mixture of conservatism' and progress which characterizes the great, steady middle class of the American Episcopacy. He was tolerant and fatherly both to the Kituahsts, who overdo on o le side, an 1 the Low Church who underdo on the other. He believed 1, rgely in good na^ ture, good sense, and the expectant treatmei t, as best for dis- eases both m the churchly and medical practicn. So, when he had succeeded in converting his i, ivourite nephew to Episcopacy, and found him in danger of uBiug it only as a half-way house to Rome, he took good heed neither to snub him, nor to sneer at him, but to give him symj athy in all the good work he did, and, as far as possible, to snield him from that species of persecution which is sure to endrar a man's er- ^^\^iZ ^*™' ^^' investing them with a kind of pa hos. " The world isn't in danger from the multit ides rushing into extremes of self-sacriftce," the Doctor said, w .en his wife teared that Arthur was becoming an ascetic. " 1 eep him at work ; work will bring sense and steadiness. G ve him his head, and he'll pull in harness all right by and i v. A colt that don't kick out of the traces a little, at first, cun't have much blood in him." It will be seen by the subject matter of this conversation that the good seed which had been sown in the heart of Miss Uushv^r had sprung and borne fruit— thirty, sixty and a hun- dred fold, as 18 the wont of the gourds of gossip,— m .re rapid by half in their growth than the gourd of Jonah, and not half as consolatory. In fact, the {rnHRin nlanf io Itlfo fUa /««»;» ->r _-..-j.-..-i j ™v u xi_ ' 1 -^V'^. ^; — ■■' ^'^'-^ gTaxii 01 mustaru seed, which, though It be the least of all seeds, becometh a great tree, I >l 298 I. I 1^ I 1 WE AND ODR NEIOHBOURS. and the fowfe of the air ln^». • •, , mightily there at allsewons «' '" ''^ ^"^"^^ "-l chatter peV.^o"„' iftreTX?i?»^ »^- 'i^- ^^^^^^^ i't had the whole stoi^rfa^ °j^'''«''.*«'"n'ance *»' had not agined «!ated as a profound t^»f ^'"J^". surmised or im- compared. Mrs. Eyelet rememh!L ff"*''/*" collected and Mr- |t- John attending A„r,'l^*i'^^»''« "T* '^«c «™ Miss Sykes, visiting one afterfood in, L"'"' J^""' "g^'fall. and said that she hid met them coiw ^^'"f '^'?™'- *P»^ She was quite sure that they Tust 7^^ *"" "l» "''>»'• together. Then oh, the depths of possfbS thatt^""' ^^ «PPointment. Hendemn house I Always SeveS IJ^'^Pj ^'^ ™ 'l^t - On mtimat* terms with the famUy ^ Thursday evening ! de.^'phrdl7a.trei^.f^'^ "^- Hen. Anltu ^■'^'^ f'""-^' consten%" *" "*'"'' '"'"• ^hey say dont" noH^tte^^ri* """""'- -«*"«• "I Anpe/> said she to Mrs. C ir^S^ f , ^« «"»" expect for good family and independent^pL ^f'l^lT^ ""n »f nalistic notions, to be sure • h.f;'^ ^' M°"t like his rit- And, at any rat^ he cLvT ' "' *"^ ■»" t have evervthinJ mamed-tia^s i„'':;»f^^r ■»«' " «»«•« Catholic i?t g^fs throughlh": e:,tui"K; »«'««^}- 'he sat looking !' He's at the door now Vrc^^ff-r™. J-'ck on her knee^ •1 «*• **' ^ * "eheve there's something talkinrab»:^^°4f .;■'-« «- Dorcas, "and who «.yo„ "Why,Mr. St JohnandAneie H»'= -, .,• SAYS SHE TO HEU NEIGHBOUR — WHAT? 299 and chatter * »re, and old >loyed their IS not a fe- 'at had not lised or im- ►Uected and twice seen t nightfall, ict, deposed )r together, pointment. aw in that ^ evening! ^rs. Hen- They say tude. "I 'xpect for g man of e his rit- [erything. if he gets > looking er knee. >mething ) are you the door, only he " But, Dorcas, I really thought his manner to herjlast Thui s- day was particular. Oh, I'm sure there's something in it ! They say he's such a good young man, and independently rich. I wonder if they'll take a house up in this neighbourhoo i. It would be so nice to have Angie within calling distance ! A great favourite of mine is Angie." i. because 300 '^E ANB OUB NEIOHBoras. CHAPTER XL THE KNGAOKMKNT xXKo:,^e^ gaged. " ""' '>« '"d. " that pretty Mfe„ v . The blank exnr.. • *" '^'*'«1'« ™ ^es, that pretty fairv M;^ a^ "»der him * "^|?rr*^''-"4«?ofd'X%'^,' »-'<•-.. Anh»,y„„ glutei ^-""'"e happy i„diri,„^ St. John JooJtp/I ♦ 1.1 ® ''^^ <^on- " Well, weat IfT'^i^ ^«"^"«ed. , ''But yonZgZ'^^y 'r^'^y -"gaged " ^'ie the f&milyl'nnA^S ^ "nderstaifd So f.. Arthur, ]et me^^H^? "^ '^'^'^-nothing co„I^ /^l'^ ^^'^^^ ^ above board forth J^' ^.^."'^ better have ^ ^ **''*"' ^ ^»t» Se^i^^J^^^^^ ^n'drpts^ttr^?^^^^^^^^^^^ is, J reverence wTf ^^" Ar«<^el. It is T^ "? "^^'^ ^«rniy ^tefZ'lS' '» 'he P«it?°"Ai:V-'' your m. Th.t ^^e ali the gossips vnll to Arthur's Arsdel's en- oJour in St. ion. * gasp, feel- IV." rthur, you le to con- good. I •er; but, ced and nor the ^e confi- for my e altar, id lay That at you 5 Miss 5 \vill THE ENGAGEMENT ANNOUNCED. 301 Tma/'h^'l*^ ^T °*°^' 1"^ y^"*^- ^«P«"r 1^2 w'*' ^'''''^' ?. S"^^^^^° ^"g^l«' o'- Christian LurSirtntr ^^'""'Pf*^-, ^^« dishonest tnd disloyal; it 18 unfeir to the woman and selfish in the man." ^ think it nf^a' W'T^ y*"" fy ^" *hi« ^««a»«« you don't not Wn H^^ ^ ^ know my heart before God, I say I have not been doing so mean and cowardly a thing. There was a time when I thought I never should marry ^ Those were mv Shtteir'""- I/«d not know how mU a t?ue ^L"^ iX'y\trrch"wrL^'^"""^' ' ^"^^^ «"^^ ^ S-^^' -- when\f «^1;i"'?'t^^' ^r ^^"?^. ^"* *^*^ *^« Lord was right tl^e T nrd th ' ^^ '?• °''* ^^^^ ^^" "'^^ *o be alone.' We pay best Denen/'^'Pt^Tl""'' J" ^ ^^^« *« Relieve he knowl Lord's ?h?rf.V*>' .i'^^H'' ^^** ^^"«^i^« f^°^ili«« ^^e the whltsoevei^" ' ^'*''' ^^''^ ^"^ «""^ «^ °^«°ks and nuns AH which was listened to by Mr. St. John with a radiant ^l m II 302 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. p5: hTs* du'ty tltw h" "'^" ^- -^^ showing a man S n^ ^J-ought up the whole ofTh^/i^T'^*^^" of this "Aft^^^',^" ^^ ^« tractaWe as helrf ^^f^As^^ to back After all, unc e," he saiW of i ! .^ ^^"^^ «^ish. WHO had stepped down f^^l i^. ^^' ^^- John was an i/i^i angel of the churches hnf „ "s^^ ^ mysterious powpr a« Nevertheless, it A^lbCLfJ^^ fneteen^Z^^ but we question wiiethfr Iht . i *, "^''''e'-basLt on his «™f ?>»ybe as liolvTnd ,m!./?«**'>«'»selvestliinkso TK ' basket is mi^lsZ, Tek rf f *,^P'"' ^ 'he X a marttt' «dSte i^T"'^^- , Thefi^t Wght irst"?'!?*^^'' *e «^"y Misf t'sCSlt^ - ^il^":,*-," Ange tn?f """'• *^ ''^ P»«ed ; bn he anH' """ ""« '"»■"'« »f "he pfcr-i^^^rtri^r'Kora^ '^wg a man ' months be- tion of this ges to back 1. ill not have happy ? " ^ nay ; and ways about m. h for these ion." alert step, ifirmation. d seen and a family Ment-rihg. as an idol ranks of ower— an ^ century, purposes • I7 father, 'd with a >e nearer his arm ; There market- gladness han the k Angie R earth, r of the >py and didn't, 5 asser- ibout a THE ENGAGEMENT ANNOUNCED. 303 sister or a wife ?» and felt sure that he should have been proud and happy to show Angie to St. Paul himself. ^ Ahce was at first slightly disappointed, but the compensation flltT^i '" ^'7 ^'T^^' * brother-in-law reconciled her to the loss of her poetic and distant ideal. As to little Mrs. Betsey, she fell upon Angle's neck in rap- ture ; and her joy was heightened in the convincing proof that she was now able to heap upon the unbelieving head of Dorcas that she had been m the right all along When dear little Mrs. Betsey was excited, her words and thoughts came so thick that they were like a flock of martins, all trying to get out of a martin-box together— chattering twittering, stumbling over each other, and coming out at heads and points in a wonderful order. When the news had been officially sealed to her, she begged the right to carry it to Dorcas, and ran home and burst in upon her with shining eyes, and two little pmk spots in her cheeks. ^ ^ ' , nnZ^r'T^r^^^'-^^^^r are engaged. Now, didn't I say so, Dorcas ? I knew it. I told you so. that Thursday evening! Oh, you cant fool me ; and that day I saw him standing on ^e doorstep ! I was just as certain ! I saw it just as plain ! What a shame for people to talk about him as they do, and say he s going to Rome. I wonder what they think now ] The ZI'm ^V ? New York ceruinly. Oh ! and that ring he bought ! Just as if he could be a Roman Catholic ! It's big as a pea, and sparkles beautiful, and's got the 'Lord is thy keeper m Hebrew on the inside. I want to see Mrs. Wouver- mans and ask her what she thinks now. Oh, and he took her to ride m such a stylish carriage, white lynx lap-robe, and all ! 1 don t care if he does burn candles in his chapel. What does that prove It don't prove anything. I like to see people Zw/yr? ''^'' "^'' ^''' ""^ P^'*' ^^^'^ y^^ ^^''^ ^ " Mercy ! yes, Betsey," said Miss Dorcas, delighted to see her sister so excitedly happy, " though I don't exactly see my way clear through yours ; but no matter." ^ " I'm going to crochet a toilet cushion for a wedding present, Dorcas, like that one in the red room, you know. I wondei when It wril come off ? How lucky I have that sweet cap that Mrs. Henderson made. Wasn't it good of her to make it ? I ii 804 WE AND OUR KEWHBOUBS. ^eii, 1 don't care, as lone «7 ft!ii *" ^^^^^ of new wavs St tches on that cushion ths minuted eount the set her basket of worsf flrla /« j"^""*® ! And Mrs. Betsev im round, barkW s^n^tSi'l f^t ?"t'^' '^^ ^^^ -'" the general breeze that he chewed nn I ^ ^^ T.^ «° ^^cited by fore recovering his composure li ^^"^ ^^"^ ^^ ^«rsted be at the old Vanderheyden house ''^' '^^' ''ff^^* ^^ the news I ^J ? I suppose 8 of new ways, pie, what their nd count the rs. Betsey up. ew round and so excited by 'f worsted be- et of the news LETTER FROM EVA TO HARRY's MOTHER. 305 CHAPTER XLI. LETTER FROM EVA TO HARRY'S MOTHER. MY Dear Mother : I sit down to write to you with a feel as if I had h " '^'^' '''""^^^' ^^^""^^ ^"^ experiences ? teel as It I had been out lusome other world and been brought back again ; and now I hardly know myself or where I am S know I wrote you all about Maggie, and her eaviug us and poor Mary's trouble about her, and how she had been since h'at "l :.Z1 ^'^ r ^hb^^rhood : I promised Ma^y faithfully that I would go after her ; and so, after all our Christm^ labours were over, Harry and I went on a midnSht excuS m"htr ' ''^ ""^^"^^^ "^^"^«^^^' -^^ hr sSTe access' tralfthnJir^ strange that a minister could have sllTl fLf ^ •P^^'''" ""^^'^ ^^ proposed to take us. and see all that was going on without insult or danger, but he told me that he was m the constant habit of passing through the dance-houses, and talking with the people who kept them, and that he never met with any rudeness oHncivility. ^ ' tie told us that in thevery centre of this worst district of New Jeote'L^^^^^^^^^ ^;4 dance-houses, afew Christen sTon familv ^^I ^''"''u? -""^'^ ^^'^ ^^^ established a mis- sion family, with a room which they use for a chapel : and thev pefpirthe^^^ '''^'' winL^retS 8u^n«r*«hr h'"^ ^^^ '^'^ ^^^y ^^'''^ *^«"<^ to give a midnight conlTfinH ^' .r^ ^ ^^? P^°' ^«"««^^« ^^"dlrer whom they d'rlitifg'saloo'^^^^^^ h-g -b-t th^ wret?hTd?«lllTuK ^/- "^'"T" ^^ «*i^' "i« *« ^^^ these JooH .nTn^ 5 !^ '^*;^^ ^'^"y ^^^ th^i^ friendsandseektheir thPv 'oJt T^^f *5 ^^SJ^' ^^ °^"«t do something for them that they can understand. Thev can all nnd«r«f«r,.-i . .~..-.,-,a J^^^^^ when they are lying about cJiranrhr^^rd^^S^^^ i tj 1 11 on a 30G WE AND OVH NElGHBOlfRs. » Sf tit i ?^^ ,r n "«- '» -.^ *o to have U8 take all this trouble to ^'AT' '' ""-P™*' them they are willing to co,n« J ' "^^ '>«l'«>'e us. Aft«r .T? ^ood Shepherd," he said T '^^^ ^"^ save the L Til h.ymn-si„gT„g, and lookedTntf "? "?' '"^ heard the ISd ,f ^hichseemelVuIlof^e^pirVe^nnT ^*' "* Whet to the words of an old Methodist hymT'* * """»»' to listen "a^«3't,'^KiS!'- 'gia to talk to jurprisea them »; it awakens ind then when lans, and Jove '• After that ittend to what t I could not 'ou have the I place; and ople?" And 'siWe. That le lost. The id nine safe urdil he finds 3 said it was (ley made no ni ; but that le Christian superinten- salary, and 'at the food »d so far it I a sort of 6 that We ^r. James 1, that one 9 city that known to street full sound of li benches '' to listen LETTER FKOM EVA TO HARRy's MOTHER. 307 If yoii tarry till you're better. You will never come at all. ^ot the righteous — Sinners, Jesus came to call. " P •',">"'/« thirsty, come and welcome, God s free bounty glorify. i rue belief and true repentance, ^''^.^1'?'''' **>** brings us nigh Without money, Come to Jesus Christ and buy," filthy, physicallTas wphI ;. ii"''l '^ ^^' ^^ ^^^^' ^^''^ ^"d had come up from 11.^ f.»i^ \ ^^^' •'''™'' • *« otkers thought o7so pea eful a Ln'^'""?'* "^ •'>' '"i"""' »d the neighbourhood Mr Ja™^"r. "i """^ ""*'' of this dreadful wiff who tX cha^e onhe t^^'^i^ *" "■' """' "■"* >■'» fruits of these latw^Sl h! ^- ^''.''y *■■« converts— the with a dSSg^iZ b?t%T„r^?.A'T' r, "'""'"'"'*<• 3t«ngth to thif work; 'in whShX ^hWZt^r e'Tcc^st m ^6 1 :f 308 Wfi AND OUH NEIOHBOUHS. supper in the dining-room for Mr r"^^'**^. ''^ sit down^o a so late before returningTome ^iT^'T'^r ^^^^'^^ l>« out to sustain us. So we took some of T '''^"^^ "««^ something jng for the midnight supper anH ^' '^"P ^'''^^^ ^'«s Prepar^ found it. After this wTweA^ n^/^'^u"'''^ '^"'^ «-«fr*^shLCe superintendent, to g^^hrZh ?h '^'?'' ^'- ^^^^^ amf the and cirinicingplaces^L*dnttri'b:t:'d.Tr^^ .dance-hiu!:: the supper. What we saw seem. n. . ''^^H ^'^ invitation to had heard that such thiZ wer? h T '^ """ '^^« » ^^eam. I them. We went from fne nl»' f "^'^*'' ^^^^^-^ did I see same features-a da^gJoom l^ith" T'^^" ^"^ «^4s the and ornamented, sitting^S wlinf '? '"^^ ^"'"^'^ Pressed all sorts walking in anLrveyinTin/.h' "^-'''V' ™«« «f them and dancing, and, afterwSor If '"'"^ ^''^"^ ^™«»S to the bar to drink. Many of the?« ^ . 1' ^?'''^ ""'^^ ^^em comparatively fresh ; their dreLerw ^''^' ^^^^"^ >^«»ng and blushed for them thriugh'^^^^^^^ ^y low, so That I and ^ked myself wherf iZs as I mnvf /'^^' '? Harry'aarm, Nobody noticed us. EveryboV' , id ,n T "^ "™*^"S ^h^"^' there, and see what they could ^ ^^""^ ^ ^^g^t to be largeXte::.:^^^^^^^^ ^^ree stories, with going on, and throngs Indth^o^n^ of ^'"'^"^^ ^'^^ ^"nk/ng pounng and crowding through it^ Th ""?' ^i*^ ^"^ ^^^^i wretched girls and women teemed l^T '""""^J'^^ bedLned disgrace to womanhood and to Ghrl.' T T^ * ^^^^^ow and for their disgrace. Yet nobody said « ^^ '""^^ ^*^« ^^ed keepers of the places seemed t/knowM^ "'* "^^ ^^« mtendent. He spoke to them all k^if T^\ ^"^ *^« «»P«r- answered with the same ciSy In "^ ^""^ P^^^'"^^' ^"^ they the superintendent asked Se to ? ^'' *^« «f ^he saloons, granted, and he sung the hymnVat b'gL": ""^' ^^^^ -«« "I love to tell the story Of unseen things a&ove, Of Jejus and his glory, * Of Jesus and his love- nowled>?e of t down to a hould bo out d something ^'as prepar- freshing we •OS and the lance-housea ivitation to t dream. I ' did I see always the len dressed fs i men of ona among with them roung and , so that I trry'aarm, ong them, ght to be ries, with drinking i young, edizened, row and ery heart ave cried AH the le super- ind they saloons, ich was LETTER PROM EVA TO HARRY's MOTHER. 3oy I love to tell tlie story — It did so much for me— And that ia junt the reoHoa I tell it unto thee." At another place, he sung "Home, sweet home," and 1 thought I saw many faces that looked sad. Either our presenca was an embarrassment, or for some other reason it seemed to me there was no real gaiety, and that the dancing and the keepmg up of a show of hilarity were all heavy work. There seems, however, to be a gradation in these dreadlul places. Besides these which were furnished with some show and pretension, there were cellars where the same sort of thine was going on— dancing and drinking, and women set to be the tempters of mtn We saw miserable creatures standing out on the sidewalk, to urge the passers-by to come into these cellars. It was pitiful, heart-breaking to see. But the lowest, the most dreadful of all, was what they called the bucket shops. There the vilest of liquors are mixed in buckets and sold to wretched, crazed people who have falijii so low that they cannot get anything better. It is the lowest depth of the dreadful deep. Oh, those bucket shops ! Never shall I forget the poor, for- lorn, forsaken-looking creatures, both men and women, that I saw there. They seemed crouching in from the cold— haugiua about, or wandering uncertainly up and down. Mr. James spoke to many of them, as if he knew them, kindly and aorrow^ fully " This IS a hard way you are going," he said to omj. « Ar n t you almost tired of it ? " « Well," he said to anothrx poor creature, " when you have gone as far as you can, and come to the end, and nobody will have you, and nobody do anything for you, then come to us, and we'll take you in." During all this time, and in all these places, the superiu- tendent, who seemed to have a personal knowledge of many of those among whom he was moving, was busy distributnic his tickets of invitation to the supper. He knew where the utterly lost and abandoned ones were most to be found, and to them he gave most regard. But as yet, though I looked with anxious eyes, I had seeu nothing of Maggie. I spoke to Mr, James at last, and he said, i i! uo WE ANJ> OUR NEIGHBOURS. "Mother Moggs is acharalrYn hT^^af "h ".7/ has always treated me with nerfZ . ^' *^^ ^"^'^ "»■ " She cause I have shown theTme^To her T ' ''"''"''''' ^^- Iike any other decent Avoman, but she t 'T' '^-l^'^^ ^'^"^ roused, would be as prompt with WnJr T ^'"^' '^ «^»« ^ere m these streets." As h"8aid7hi« ! «nd pistol as any man tered a dancing-saloon. in^ feature?"'"!^ f-^"^^' ^"'^ «"- ^e had seen. Mother Mog^g 2T^ ""''l ^'>*^ ™*"y others per end. where liquors weffdfllot f ^ '^'^ ^^ ^^^ ^^ the up- really so respectably drersed an/^^''^• *"^ '«^^- ^^e seemed thatlcouId'scarceirbeHe'em'y'^^^^ Mr. James walked un with ,,7! \ " ^ ^*^ ^e^- and «poke to her, as he^does to L.^ "^^''^ '^' ^«« standing, fu%,^inquiring after her health and^th^n' ^'""'Y ^"^ '^P^^^' smartness :"f«thTch sod 1 youmtn?' 1'""^ ^^^^ «-« each foot." ""you mean? I ve got two—one on He took no notice of the jest, but wenf nn " And how about the souJa nf 7h^ • ? \ come of them ? " ' ""^ ^^^^^ g^rls ? What will be- 111 ay. — ' * """ " scana m their her girls were apprentices ^ "' industry at which Utle back, toward the bar In,ttt?t l"". «"^ ''"' ''""'^'"K » you here?" »uoniy, ohf Mrs. Henderson, itablishment. iw." )ldu8. "She olitenefis, be- at Hrst view if she were as any man ner, and en- many others ir at the up- Hhe seemed ant-looking, 3r. « standing, nd respect- er tone, he with some o — one on at will be- force 'em they can nay girls in their ke would [• difficult at which ding be- inding a nd, rais- to your s if she iderson, LETTER FROM EVA TO HARRY's MOTHER. 311 •1^®^', V*"?^ ^^ ^^^^ ^"^ y®"» Maggie. Come right away with us, I said. "O Maggie ! come,^' and I burst iSto tears, bne seemed dreadfully agitated, but said • " Oh, I can't ; it's too late ! " "No, it isn't. Mr. James," I said, "here she is. Her mother has sent for her." " And you, madam," said Mr. James to the woman " have just said you wouldn't stand in the way, if any of your LMrls could better themselves." ^ ^ "riie woman wa^ fairly caught in her own trap. She cast an evil look at us all, but said nothing, as wo turned to leave, I holding upon Maggie, determined not to let her go. We took her with us to the Home. She was crying as if her heart would break. The girls who were getting the supper looked at her with sympathy and gathered round her One of them interested me deeply. She was very pale and thin, but had such a sweet expression of peace and humility in her face ' ?u- ?*^u ^"^, ^?* '^^^" ^y ^»ggie and said, "Don't be afraid : this 18 Christ s home, and he will save you as he has me I was worse than you are— worse than you ever could be— and He has saved me. I am .so happy here ! " And now the miserable wretches who had been invited to the supper came pouring in. Oh, such a sight I Such forlorn mecksof men, in tattered and torn garments, with such hag- gard faces, such weary, despairing eyes ! They looked dazed at the light and order and quiet they saw as they came in Mr James and the superintendent stood at the door, saying, " Come in, boys, come in ; you're welcome heartily ! Here you are glad to see you," seating them on benches at the lower part of the room. *^ While the supper was being brought in, the table was set with an array of bowls of smoking hot soup and a large piece of nice white bread at each place. When all had been arranged Mi James saw to seating the whole band at the tables, asked a blessing, standing at the head, and then said, cheerily, " Now boys, fall to ; eat all you want ; there is plenty more where this came from, and you shall have as much as you can carry " *u u '^^S^^^y^ «o^» they we'l^er*' ''"'^ """'•" S'o-J^O -me, .. They don't care if ^^yitL^ongT^^^'^f'T Y'^ Here these them. You can't have* 2thingan7?^ ''"^"" *™'"8» to They can have plate-glass Sf ws and Thi"™ ^rytWng- caiTiages, and their wives have tS, "n, i"'^ "*'' ^^'P their and you pay for it all ; and thin Xen^,?''''^ *"'' J^"'*' cent over their counto, they Idck ™?, f^^r 'P'"' y"" '»»' you fools to be supporting suehmJ^^ v ** '■"■*''• Aren't any silk dresses, I'fi bet o •>„.? I ^""'' '"™» ^on't get where ar. y„ur mother^-l';?:^^;^™ ,- ^^"^^^^^ »'- '- the^rai't^rinlhL"'^^'"''^ pWtKd some of wa;%\Tn\'^:';t iit::!]""^" j- »- « give it up J Look here-no^ bov? I'll S°f y"" "'"" '» And then he read from his D^t:,^T V "^ y"" » »tory." the Prodigal Son. h" rellh uLTv^"""",' "»* Pa^We of never undfrstood it befor^ wCr hS ' ^ ?""«'" ^ ^ad now, boys, hadn't you better come wfl "*' ^l?^^- " ^nd you remember, som^e «f y«t Wyf' ICullt U" be done with kvas quite in- Ir. James be- ■ at his tact, a cold night ' is to have these from lake suppers atch 'em do- i spend all ► them, and d then they on't care if 3ere these sarnings to verything. keep their id jewels, your last t. Aren't don't get wives ? — some of I— a bad want to ' story." irable of t I had "And r? Do teach LETTER FROM EVA TO HARRY's MOTHER. 313 ITJ}V^^' '^"' Father, Who art in heaven?' Come now, kneel down every one of you, and let's try it once more." Ihey all knelt, and I never l.eard anything like that prayer. InZ!^ Tf ' '^ '^'"''*^'. '^ P^*^^"^- He prayed for those LT /?.\^' i^? "^T P'^y^"S f«r ^i« own soul. They must hfm .^ J;r ^' ^7'^ ^™- ^' "^"^^^^ ^^«^« ™y ^^^'^ to hear mm , It did seem for the time as if the wall were down which ZnT ^'^' ^""^^J^? "«' ^"d that everybody must feel t, even these poor wretched creatures. headsTn Jf!!.^™''"^ ^^""^ 'T^ r""S men, and some whose ^tntof / r^ "'^T ^«?,g«od, and indicative of former refine- ment of feeling. I could not help thinking how many histories facer'"""' ^"'' '" "'"•^y ^^^^'''' ^«'« written^n those Mr' \lLf '^fu ^^^^ y**" ^^" '^^^ ^"y o^ *h«8e?" I said to iur. James, as they were going out. " ff^e cannot, but God can," he said. « With God all weTasl^rtt ^\h-« -- ? g-t many saved iha were as low as these ; but it was only bv the power of God converting their souls. That is at all tii^'es possible." Phystldisll.'?"'^' "''^ "^^^°^ ^^^ ^^^"^ g«^« *^ ^« - J7hTl *'^^Vfu« S"^,* '^^^^°g ^" «"^^^"ed and taken away u w ^*^ ^^"^^ ^^ ^^^^^^ miraculous," said Harry, plied he """^^ ^''^^''* miracles, and we shall have them," re^ talklrwIJh'hil!' ^a' Y S^^^"'"? ^^""^^ ^^gSi«' ^«d were hpr« w^[ K 1 H^^^^/son* let me stay here awhile ; the girls DfirLn u^ T' ^"^ ^ '^" ^« ««°^« g°°d here, and by-and^by! at^te^hlTn^r^^''' ^^^^ ^"'"^ ^^^^ ^^ -^^- I^^ thifwouKbl!'' "''"" '"'' ^^"^' ^'^^'^^''^^^ P-«-*' inJt'Iorf' */"^f^«t.«f sympathy, an energy of Christian feel- ing, a sort of enthusiasm, about this house, that h«ln« nn« to begin anew. r- -«- ku It was nearly morning before we found ourselves in our ;. " WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. tians such dreadful things A fS^ '^"" of churches and Chris- Certainly, if all ChriSsTu T f ?. ^omg on every night J begun thfe Home there would L=°"i " ^ 't"* ^» '»''» h»ve would do a liWe T^eTt dll „ u*^^"'. '^'^ Christian "jany Christian"' bSI^L tieem"si^f A""° ' ^^ ^^r "* slrdtnXrtjrrS?9»- feU Xnt Kjn" mI^J^'TT '"T """"o ^ '"e has and disgrace to us ^"^ **""" ""'^ ''""S » burden « S L'lTst-nTetfer '•b^ 'r '»''^»I? '» "^« letter too long, so goo>byrr tSe^eift ""^ '^"^ '^ Your loving j;vA. : 41 JIM'S FORTUNES. 315 pent in vain. es and Chris- ivery nighfc ? lo who have ry Christian or there are re left to do id I are re- rk. dly grateful le ; she has ig a burden ^ard in life naking this Eva. CHAPTER XLII. JIM'S FORTUNES. « WELL, hurrah for Jim ! " exclaimed our friend Jim Fellows, making tumultuous entrance into the Hen- derson house, with such a whirl and breeze of motion as to flutter the music on the piano, and the papers on Harry's writ- ing-desk, while he skipped round the room, executing an ex- temporary pas seul. " Jim, for goodness sake, what now 1 " said Harry risinff. "What's up?" •^' ^ " I've got it ! I've got it .'—the first place on * the Forum ! ' Think of the luck I I've been talking with Ivison and Sears about it, and the papers are all drawn, I'm made now, you'd better believe. It's firm land at last, and I tell you, if I haven't scratched for it ! " ♦'Wish you joy, my boy, with all my heart," said Harry, shaking his hand. " It's the top of the ladder." ** And I, too, Jim," said Eva, ofi'ering her hand frankly. ^* Sit down and have a cup of tea with us." " You don't care, I suppose, what happens to me," said Jim in an abused tone, turning to Alice, who had sat quietly in a shaded corner through this outburst. " Bless me, Jim, I've been holding my breath, for I didn't know what you'd do next. I'm sure I wish you joy with all my heart. There's ray hand on it," and Alice reached out her hand as frankly as Eva. It was a hand as fair, soft and white as man might wish to have settle like a dove of peace and rest in his own ; and, as it went into his palm, Jim could not help giving it a warm, de=- taining grasp that had a certain significance, especially as his eyes rested upon her with a flash of expression before which hers fell. Alice had come to Eva's to dine, and they were now just pnjoying that pleasant after-dinner hour around the fireside, ! . a i 'i 316 WK AND OVn NEIGHBOURS. mi i> ajid statnettes, bring forth »nm.\fv """^ ?"='">•«« and books rise to the exu'ltingSg "NowW ^J" "^^ ""o- S'^«g Pl^e so pretty aniso cosf'as fC" "" *''* """''^ *^ *"« S jh^t'jght'JLX'rCryfc'rj; ""-o™ j-e that Jin, took her hand and she sawTf ' ''"'• ?' ""^ "><>">«"' she mentally altered her in w1 ? expression of his eves nifnt. She^as su"f she ^^"Zo* r^' "'^f.^ '» '•«"«''»»' her escort. She was not S to^w»t ^"°"H' '"''"'™«. ^e » hs present mood, and tr?°t hUe Jti^ v*"™* alone with him that an engagemei^t X„ly"s»rnrur' "*•"*?' Ph^o-nena, ocquMntances is oft,n prXt^e of S * ""'"}? "' »'™«te "pagination, placed him, an1it£!7nr^?' 'H^^^^ ^^ ^^r ai'd marrvinff dipti «Sk Ji, j coming mto the ranks of morf al n^i. whi/h sSed o^AnglrfinSr '^1^' ^ e~n other ring that a gentlemln^of lonf^Uf^ -^^^J^'^ ^^^« ^"7 h^d heard all the comment ff the 1^'™'^^* ^"^' ^"^ «he Already there was activity 2 ?L dirP^T '°^.^°'« <^^^^^«n- trousseau Aunt Maria, wi h her usu«l «r. ^^ * Pr<>«Pective ntaflfs and giving records of price, Tf f^i^""^''' ^^s prizing •shopping placesf and racS/frn!! ""^ "^ 5^^ *"d desirable other in self-imposed puSa/pr/"' ^°? °^ ^^^ ^^^^y to the cassions of houses ^or'ttefrreltr"^^^ '^t' ^'^^ '^^^^ ^hirl of preparation. There wLla^ Everything was in a tl»e same style of reflections occTi^^^i" the very air : and r J'^'^'^'^^i-crastiU" ^'''^^ ^^^^^ come ;'inr4't?',|^:™;lr^^^^^ of al. mortal »al impulse. ^^ "*^® *®^t something of the gene- JIMS FORTUNES. tty teacups, and e hour dear to icture, when the tures and books 'ach one, giving ^orld is there a her own home at the moment ion of his eyes, i to remain all ', of course, be lone with him nd be obliged J phenomena, e of intimate ings of heart, nocking down ng her rector e had, in her iks of mortal engagement ked like any 'uy, and she les thereon. prospective was prizing nd desirable ' city to the re were dis- ng was in a ryair: and ? is a death, shall come all mortal 'f the gene- 317 Now, Miss /\lice was as fine a specimen of young-ladyhood at twenty-two as is ordinarily to be met with in New York or otherwhere. She was we'l read, well bred, high-minded and high-principled. She was a little inclined to the ultra-romantic in her views, and while living along contentedly, and with a moderate degree of good sense and comfort, with such peo- ple as were to be found on earth, was a little prone to in- dulge dreams of super-celestial people— imaginary heroes and heroines. In the way of friendship she imagined she liked many of her gentlemen associates ; but the man she was to marry was -to be a hero— somebody before whom she and every one else should be irresistibly constrained to bow down and worship. She knew nobody of this species as yet. Harry was all very well ; a nice fellow— a bright, lively, wideawake fellow— a faultless husband— a desirable brother- in-law ; but still Harry was not a hero. He was a man subject to domestic discipline for at times littering the parlour table with too many pamphlets, for giving imprudent invitations to dinner on an ill-considered bill of fare, and for confounding sol- ferino with pink when describing colours or matching worsteds. All these things brought him down into the sphere of the actual, and took off the halo. In review of all the married men of her acquaintance, she was constrained to acknowledge that the genus hero was rare. Nobody that she was acquainted with ever had married this kind of being ; and, in fact, within her own mind his lineaments were cloudy and indistinct, like the magic looking-glass of Agrippa before the destined image shone out. She only knew of this or that mortal man of her ac- quaintance, that he was not in the least like this ideal of her dreams. Meanwhile, Miss Alice was not at all insensible to the charm of having a friend of the other sex wholly and entirely devoted to her. She thought she had with most exemplary frankness and directness indicated to Jim that they were to be friends and only friends ; she had contended for her right to be just as in- timate vidth him as he and she pleased, in the face of Aunt Maria and of all the ranks and orders of good gossips who make the regulation of other people's affairs a speciality ; and she I I s 11 B' m mil I ' |i! Hi' 'MM }'.! '<■; !|j ll'i f (jjj I '■» 318 W£ AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. independence and spTn^fcad shoT^'i^Vh ^"^' "^^' ^'"^f Now, Jim was one of thnap Sii !° ^^® "^^^er. remain a boy forever. tL bov H^^^^^' ^^ certain respects. for as long a mortal journey as th« ^ ""^^ T^^^"^)^ looked years and ten, one might noTexnect tn Tv^"^/ *^ threescore a white-headed, vivacious X bov h- "" > ^^^'' '^*" tnous, effic ent creature. He w7s* in .n ^ * '^"^^"^' i"'!"^- to success in the profession hrhad 1 ""'P''^.'' ^^"^">^ ^^^^^ and body of the New YorkDrts r^. v'^'l ' *^^ ^«**y image unsleeping, untiring, al wlys'^We ^^r^'^^^^^ ""^''^'^^^ ^cutf m full command of his faculS .t "' ^"^ ^"^ ^'^''^^' and ready for any emereencv nvfifl ' • ^">'.^onr of day or night and frolic, and, liS&SeT/ T'^ ^"^onsiLate tn any price. Since his intimacy with A r^' ^Ti ^""^ ^^ ^^^^ a? hersefthe right of looking ovihL^^ assumed to an exterior co„science;and^SdfS!rK l^'l^^*^^ P^^'of to her his articles for criticism AnH a? "^i*"^ ^*^»* of bringing certam degree ofg„.vity and dlX a "Z/'r« ¥'■« "^ » Now, m respect to Jim AliceTJ.f i "^ gwi^ian angel. this rdle. She was weuS)!^^ !i •5^"''' "«*' ""^d «« sustain her conceptions of We Tmhflfl i'^^'^' '*"'!"« ""'^ ^^^u^ dash of ideality which pe™^^^ ^if.fr"''''^'™' ^ """i '^ the eyes of the modem £w York h„ "*"" «*™ to he^, in No ont*'" ""■"'' ™'*'"" * """^ "' '"""'' '"^''«'" pulous J?tC'j£iV*ftew V^rr'" ""*''y •»"'«™- m a mJl of competition. He serve, .hi Pf*"- He grinds whom turn are driven up byan »I,t^*'"* '"''^'•^ ""^ters, Wnt.ng for excitement, U^ln^r^CS^^tr^ii d this territory heard that she len it was going liet way, on the latter. 5rtain respects, Jrtainly booked , at threescore ^im other than driving, indus- s, ideally fitted le very image ersatile, acute, dressed, and day or night, nsiderate fun >r his joke at i assumed to ng the part of >it of bringing i herself that devotion, but wie, and ex- of looking at great dranja ladies of a *rdian angel, 5d to sustain id serious in IS ; and the '^e to hef, in 'ed prestige, >riy unscru- He grinds ye masters, ible public, afcioii. Ti^e JIMS FORTUNES. 319 man of the press sees behind the scenes in every illusion of life ; the shapeless pulleys, the dripping tallow candles that light up the show, all are familiar to him. To him come all the tribes who have axes to grind, and want him to f\m their grindstones. Avarice, ambition, petty vanity, private piques, mean intrigues, sly revenges, all unbosom them- selves to him as to a father confessor, and invoke his powerful aid. To him it is given to see the back door and back stairs of much that the world venerates, and he finds there filthy sweepings and foul debris. Even the church of every name and sect has its back door, its unsightly sweepings. He who is in so many secrets, who explores so many cabals, who sees the wrong side of so many a fair piece of goods, with all its knotSj and jags, and thrums, what wonder if he come to that worse form of scepticism— the doubt of all truth, of all virtue, of all honour ? When he sees how reputations can be made and un- made in the secret conclaves of printing offices, how generous and holy enthusiasms are assumed as a cloak for low and selfish designs, how the language which stirs E;^an's deepest nature lies around loose in the hands of skilled word-experts, to be used in getting up cabals and carrying party intrigues, it is scarcely to be wondered at if he come to regard life as a mere ^ame of skill, where the shrewdest player wins. It is exactly here that a true, good woman is the moral salvation of man. Such a woman seems to a man more than she can ever seem to her female acquaintances. She is to him the proof of a better world, of a truer life, of the reality of justice, purity, honour, and unselfishness. He regards her, to be sure, as unpractical, and ignorant of the world's ways, but with a holy ignorance whjch belongs to a higher region. Jim had dived into New York life at first with the mere animal recklessness with which an expert swimmer shows his skill in difficult navigation. Life was an adventure, a game, a game at which he was determined nobody should cheat him, a race in which he was determined to come out ahead. Nobody should catch him napping ; nobody should outwit him ; he would be nobody's fool. His acquaintance with a certain class of girls was only a continuation of the bright, quick, adroit game of fencing which he played in the world. If a girl would flirt, so would Jim. He was au courant of all the positions and ! 't^i 1 ■ ' ^H i ^M 1 1 1 I 1 |H 'J I i ■ 1 1 320 WE AND OUB NKroHBOirns. feminine commotions that he iouH ^f ^ • ^' ^"^ ah«/' and of nymphs in evening dresses q« /• "^ ^" ^^'"o^t an^ bevy there are some excepfionT to be ff'"? 'V^"^"'^ ^"«"«"«^ dntL^'T^,:^ has an%levatW power .*' *h« general theory doubted whether there eoes fnv^ T.i.?''^'' ™*"- It may be ggng, flirting girCw'ho e hfghlt'^^^^^^ -pulseTrom miration and attention of men an"gIy takes par? ,^th Alice's power over Jim • ZZ Jlr"^^. This was the secret of the secret and in/er worid"o'f fcr J^^ f ^ ^^^ beS in All his dawning aspirations f^i ' ^^™^^* » religious imaee chaser of expedlnts'to be a ma^n^'' ^^"^^ ^^an Tmlre purposes, had come from her Tr„l- V'^*^^ ^^J^«^« ^n^ noble quamtance begun on boS siLTr??^'"^^?*?" ^^*^ ^im^an ac! and pa«si^g ^^ thatTe ll'"JS%«P^"* ?.f °^ere flirtation, case of a marriageable youn7mTn n A ^"^"<^«hip. But, in the like some of thole rare cactf S ?i, ^^^^^ty-five, friendship is unexpected hour, hnZ out „?o ^1?'''''^?''''' ^^ich,7an An engagement just declared in If^""'' ^^ ""*^^^ splendour warmer atmosphere of suStiin ±'^'^^^^^^ ^^^ breathed a had come a position in hfnrnf •''""'* *b^°^» »nd upon that consideration^nd Iney aSthen^T-^^^^^ ^^^^^^ h^"" bott his fi^rst thought was of Alice "^'"^ ^"« ^^^^^^^ of this, quaintances-«?»,.°'-!?.r^y,/«^iewed some of hi? i„i?, l^/ ' ifl gave to Alice'i the persiflage of rid enjoyed the and the bustle and ahs," and most any bevy nale influence, general theory \ It may be impulse from secure the ad- it, will flatter ven to have a J power over latmenthem- e. thy influence ine under, all ces part with the secret of d become, in gious image, than a mere ts and noble him — an ac- re flirtation, But, in the •iendship is '^hich, in an I splendour, breathed a upon that 3 him both fed of this, Bntleman's le kinds of lady ac- 1 humbug han% and to Alice's Jim's fortunes. 321 Sed frL' h '^""^' ^^""^ f P^"'^"'^^' ^»d something of this the deamS- « «.'^? ITa ^T' ^* ^^« ''^^^ something, like t^fnc^t^LlTt ^^i\ determined, resolute, assured, that disconcerted and alarmed her. It was like the Lounding of a ^Zu f^T.T^ ^ P^'^^y ^^ ^^« P««tern gate of a fortS and lo SmotenTir^^^r^^^ ^^ suLnder or to defend i5o, m a moment, Alice resolved not to walk the four or fiv« "and nu??n H^' sat very composed and very still in her Xh dknifipd vnt""^!*^/'^ those quiet, repressive tactics by TrtdselylSS^^^^^^^^^ ^^«P '^-k --- they are „o^ » I^^ f T^^ '"^j^^*^ under discussion when Jim came in was JTJ^J" ^ ^'""^ ^V^unt Maria's the next eveningTn honou^ of the Stephensons, when Angieand Mr. St. John would make the r first appearance together as a betrothed coupll was just going to send a note to you ! Here's Harrv h^ ^ot heTd o ThT ^«?"«"«-.«ight a1.d can't come fn S towafd here with ll T^' "^^ ^' '^"'^"^ ^^ ^i"« ^^^d dress down Here with me, and I want you to dine with us and Ha nnr escort to the party-that is, ff you wUl puTup with our dress Hfr^°Swavs"d''/'' ^ ' '"'^ " ^^^^ ^^ P^^^^^ amazement as Uar^ always does when we are not ready at the moment." ;*If you ever ^et a wife, Jim, you'll be made oerfect in this science of waiting," said Hari^ « The oSfw to ^^^^ a^rb::ai:fl'/'"/r\'^^ ^ P^'y i« '- ^'^ heTi'p'uI atter breakfast and keep her at it straight along throu4 the day Then you may have her before ten o'clock '' "" to alrtv'1« /^^^\^^' " Harry's only idea, when he is going Ind tC^L k ,n^'^ home again early. We almost never gof :veV^traU%:^tm^e t"^'' ''' ^'"^' ^^ " ^ '^^^^^ «ThTl^"i ^ '''''^''' ^^' "^^ P^^t' I ^ate parties," said Harry. They always get agoing just about my usual bed-time." ^ Well Harry, you know Aunt Maria wants an old-fashioned sht^L1:«^^?H-''^\^''^^^^^ ^> *^« ^^t««ti and when. Kays she wants a thing, she means it. She would never forgive us for being late, II i \m 1 .1 1 H Dear me, Eva, do begin to dress over night then," said 322 WE AND OUIl NEIOHBOUIIS. SnV'^°" "*''""''' "'"'' '^U «« th'ough to-morrow, if he has ! A woman's 11^ "'^ *^"'F '" »»" '» 'han there-, a good deal mo're tdi and Zry^'littl 't^hi^T '™^ ' just right." ^^^>^ ""'6 *ning has to be Tom to labour ov» hisne^k Hp^ h! ?K "i'" ""'• '"^ "^n"™ him oui.. aa long J^n^^JZy^V^Z''^''''''''' " '"""^ be o^;^^:?.' ^"" 'x' »"--«l' J'-." -id'ta ; " we intend to "mv'vefw!f ,'"'''*' ??'' Aunt Maria i, coming oat " hundlTStas'^'XtmSbe"'' ""*''" '"V" ^'^ "A "Oh yes," said Alice "Arfw °" ^""l"'' "' ^ngie." Angie's en^emenr SincfTe ^"2;" P''"".'"^ ''^'^^'f »» John has an ^dependent te„„e fZ^-'""'^'^ *''?' «■•• St. and felicitations. Oh and ahrhL u ^T *■"* "^ ''«'■ P^^es about his ritualism The Kishonl""' ""^ "P'""" ™tirely what the Bishop doesn't ™?J?' * T':. ''^"'^« ""y him ; and and then she S forth what f?o"„'d "f^^ i^^u 1"^ "«<" ^o i «o well connected ! I'd like fol. ' V^ '"''""«» •»• «'^ '^s-4^:^e''tJ:'^:7-^^-'^^^^^^^^ saidE^a. ' P*"*^ " «""* »° ""tlay for Aunt iaria," »he always does thinZ IVe been „t. C, •^-O" how perfectly have a splendid table She w^ ™.i.^ , '?J"? '"*'■• She will that she'-could get "J;- JtZC^H s^lfe^^^.'" ^ ;h to-morrow, if •ominably about 3 to see to than >8 more time; thing has to be aven't I stood, tnd picked out, tied over, and rV of some young e that we were • I've known fether; it took " we intend to writing-table, s going on up- ! coming out." id Eva. "A )f Angie." ng herself on that Mr. St. to her praises nion entirely by him ; and tny right to ; longs to, and 'ay anything i now ! " unt Maria," 3, and blanc- low perfectly r. She will lerself to mo jim's fortunes. 323 . " Well, she can," said Eva. « No one can get more for a r^'IIfT""' ""^ T'^'y ^^"" A""^ M*"«- I «"PPose that is rr^ll^S'^'i ^I'^'^V" ^^ * '^y^^'"^ P^^y »« the thing to be de^ I>re nfl V"^"" , ^""' ^"^ ^'' «"^ "P '"^^^ successfully, more perfect in all pomts, and for less money, than any other woman m New York, She will have exactly the right people and exactly the right things to give them. Her rooms wT be tfiL -^'.Tk- \ ^'''''i ^''''^^' *« ^ T, and she will say mettv ?b7nl *^u"^ *^ eveiybody. All her nice silver and her pietty thmgs will come out of their secret crypts and recesses to do honour to the occasion, and, for one n^ht all Xbe Th^l^^f T^^'^j'y personified; and then everVthing will go back into lavender, the silver to the safe, the chairt and lounges to their cover, the shades will come down and her yT'tCT'^-u'^'J ^^T'"^^^ ^^" ^« donrupforthe W ; ^^t ."^^I'^i" 1*^? "P ^^^ ^^P^"«^' and set it down in her account book, and that thing '11 be finished and checked "A mode of proceeding which she was veiy anxious to en- graft upon me," said Eva ; '« but I am a poor stock. My in- ^- hosX'lilv '"^'' t' T'^ f " ^" ^^P^"«i^«' chronic sUte 01 hospitality, as we live down here." iJ^f'" ^^'^ "^h, " '^^'^'^ ^ set a house of my own, I'm go- ing to do as you do. , * "* gu "Jim has got sight of the domestic tea-kettle in the future " '''^r?v.'T Jl^^^''' *^^ ^''' '^''' «f his promotion.'' ' Uh, don t be in a hurry about setting up a house of vour w;Ir'*-^r^-"^'?- ^''^'^ ^^ should^ mL youhereS you re an institution, Jim ; we couldn't get on without you." manHnd ''°!,.T A l"""^ u f^ ^P x*^ ^"" ^^^^ ™ «^«a«t for mankmd, said Alice, hardUy. "I think there would be a universal protest against his retiring to private life." .nn«^l T ?u^^^ '°*^. *h^ ^«' apparently as sweetly un- STnTt^r/f ?^ r:'^^"^^' ^". Jr'« P^^^ ^ if Bhe had not read anght the flash of his eye and the pressure of his hand Jim seemed vexed and nervous, and talked extravaganzas al) ^LZT^'^ 7'^h "r -^"- ^^''^« ^' ««-i «"eni, an^ to- wards ten o'clock said to Alice : J,<*nyxw 324 «E AND OVH NEIOHBOUUS. returV home^°" '°""°*'"' "' ""^ """". "t™ y"" are ready to »ind you do„? m u» zz::.':ii'"T:z'%'''' ' ■"> )u are ready to MIDNIOHT CAUcms OVER THK COALS. 325 CHAPTER XLIII. A MIDNIOHT CAUCUS OVER THE COALS. " 1\I ^^' '^''"'i ^**" 8*''» ^^^ "P and talk all nieht " «iiw1 Now, Eva was one of that class of household birds whr.«« tl^g^s'toTak':" ;.."' ""'' '^ ^^"«- ^«'- J"«^ g«t a few I* Well, you know you never know what time it is " I wa^nt' tTtaTwriliy""^^ ^ ^^"'" '' ^''^^' "> ^^ ^-t- " There, now, he's off," said Fa, gleefully shutting the door and drawing an easy chair to the remains of the fre whT she disposed the little unburned brands and e"u3s so as tomS a last blaze ; then, leaning hack, she began taking ourhahr)tn^ tace to a wholly free and easy conversation. " I think X " she said, with an air of profound reflection, « if I were vou F should wear my white tarletan to-morrow night, S cCv coloured trimmmg, and clurrv velvet -- ..^-?- .'. "^. '®*^^' vnii X ou Se6 1^4 tit) ■4 1 11 326 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. that altering the trimming changes the whole effect, so that it will look exactly like a new dress." "I was thinking of doing something with the tarletan," said Alice, who had also taken out hair-pins and let down her long dark masses of hair around her handsome oval face, while her great dark eyes were studying the coals abstractedly. It was quite evident by the deep intense gaze she fixed before her that it was not the tarletan or the trimmings that at that moment occupied her mind, but something deeper. Eva saw and suspected, and went on designedly • "How nice and lucky it was that Jim came in just as he did." Yes, it was lucky," repeated AUce, abstractedly, taking off her neck-scarf, and folding and smoothing it with an unnfces- sary amount of precision. A i- *5ri^.w\* ""t^ ^^"«^'" «^^ Eva- " I am thoroughly dehghted that he has got that situation. It is reaUy quite a position for him." ^ ^ "Yes, Jim is doing very well," said Alice, with a certain uneasy motion. ^^ « I really think," pursued Eva, « that your friendship has been everythmg to Jim. We all notice how much he has im- proved. "It's only that we know him better," said Alice. "Jim always was a nice fellow ; but it takes a very intimate acquaint- ance to get at the real earnest nature there is under aU his nonsense. But after all, Eva, I'm a Httle afraid of trouble in that fnendship. ' " Trouble— how ? " said Eva, with the most innocent air in the world, as if she did not feel perfectly sure of what was com- ing next. . " y??» I do think, and I always have said, that an intimate fnendship between a lady and a gentleman is just the best thing for both parties." *' "Well, isn't it? "said Eva. "Well, yes. But the difficulty is, it won't stay. It wiU get to be something more than you want, and that makes a uii?'u tI ^^\ ^T " °®*^*'® ^^''^ manner to me to-night 1 " Well, I thaugM I saw something rather suspicious,'*^ said Eva, demurely ; « but then you always have been so sure that tnere was nothing, and was to be nothing, in that quarter " A MIDNIGHT CAUCUS OVER THE COALS. 327 perfe^h!\U^^^^^^^^ I have been just like a sister, and I thSt thll^ ^ fim; treated him understanding between us " ^ ® ^^ *^^ *»««* Perfect whXfc^^^lfeVef 1^^^^^^^ --*-- thought one unless one were w5w to tak« ?^« '"^ ""'"^ '"*^^"^^te ^th his feelings should becomeVeeply^^^^^^^ ^" «a«e have thought it a bad thing for Mr S?t!^^ .^'''^ ^" «h«»W log an intimate friendship ZhAnlif^S *^^^ ^" '"^t^^^*- marry. It would bo takinJfrom hS.% i?"' "^"^^^ '"^^n* to that might be given to stmf 'rwho would^i^t"^ for hfe ; and I think some women I dr'?^ ^^^ ^^' *^Wy but some women I havHerTnTliT ^'"iT ^^^^ «f course, the feeling and devotaa man Sl^fJ^ 1' ^^^ to absorb al ing to mSriy him TLvTeenbir/^'^V • *^' ^"^t intend- any one else who might make Eil^ r"" ^T« interested in have him themselves." "" ^ ^^7 home, and won't « Hnl^? are too hard," said Alice. think yotloleTitn^ V''"^'' --° ^o", for I far; bSt I do think you ha^elt*^^ ^^"^^^^ so It's my positive belieUhatrrn^nL i ^^'^ that needs care, that he^is in lovTli^foutT^^^ll^^^^^^ A««e, but ''"T.'^'''^"*^^«li^««^d^harac^e^ the most AHce?^'isnritri Z' 'TreT^^Zt t-'l '^r^^" -id Do you know, Eva, I came herrmlnfn A .'^ « °^3' fault, and I. stayed onl? becauL IwrXfl .^^^^^^^ £- „ I was su. if I did therr ^^it H l^i^SZ sljj^ ^^^^^^t^^^^t^^- -^ - that Jim s. I don't see why you shoiw^^'^^ i^^ ^^'' ^ "^^^ *« ^° much ; he i8 Ve^ aTreSble to tr';*'' ^ ''^^'J^ >»™ J™ venr on the whole, ^.S^^^S theX'K J.''"- f.""""^ ". n.an I .ave ever thought .fVp:W;We ^ t^t.:?," i it ' ■] i 'Mil ■ '■•'J tiii If if 328 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. If is Oh ! not at all," and Alice gazed before her into the coals, as if she saw her hero through them. " And what sort of a man is this phoenix V "Oh ! something grave, and deep, and high, and heroic." Hiva gave a light, little shrug to her shoulders, and rippled a laugh. " And when you have got such a man, you will have to ask him to go to market for beef and cranberry sauce. You will have to get him to match your worsted, and carry your parcels, and talk over with him about how to cure the chimnev of smoking and make the kitchen range draw. Don't you think a hero will be a rather cumbersome help in housekeeping ? IJesides, your heroes like to sit on pedestals, and have you worship them. Now, for my part, I'd rather have a good kind man that will worship me. " * A creature not too bright and good ■^or human nature's daily food,' A man like Harry, for instance. Harry isn't a hero : he's a good, true, noble-hearted boy, though, and I'd rather have him than the angel Gabriel, if I could choose now. I don't see what s to object to in Jim, if you like him and love him, as you say. He s handsome; he's lively and cheerful; he's kind- hearted and obliging; and he's certainly true and constant in his attections : and now he has a good position, and one where he can do a good work in the world, and your influence might help him mit. ^ " Why, Eva, you seem to be pleading for him like a lawyer," said Alice, apparently not at all displeased to hear that side of the question discussed. "Well, really," said Eva, « I do think it would be a nice thing for us all if you could like Jim, for he's one of us ; we all know him and like him, and he wouldn't take you away to the ends ot the earth ; you might settle right down here and live near us, and all go on together cosily. Jim is just the fel- low to make a bright, pleasant, hospitable home ; and he's cer- tain to be a devoted husband to whomever he marries " " Jim ought to be married, certainly," said Alice, in a reflec- tive tone. "Just the right kind of a marriage would be the malfinof of him," the coals, as if nd heroic." and rippled a >u will have to sauce. You id carry your e the chimney '. Don't you lousekeeping ? knd have you ^e a good kind hero ; he's a iher have him I don't see '^e him, as you l; he's kind- 1 constant in id one where fluence might ke a lawyer," r that side of Id be a nice le of us ; we you away to vn here and I just the fel- and he's cer- Ties." e, in a reflec- vould be the A MIDNIGHT CAUCUS OVER THE COALS. 329 " Well, look over the girls you know, and see if there's anv one that you would like to ha^e Jim marry." ^ fi.., -T" ^^Jl^^ice, with a quickened flush of colour " that there isn t a girl he cares a snap of his finger for." ' There's Jane Stuy vesant. " !! w 'i^ uT^^ •', ^^"^'^ mention Jane Stuyvesant > " " Well' I hannpn\'f ^""!^° ^^^^ very gracious to Jim." well, 1 happen to know just how much that amounts to tZ J'TIT"^*^ have a serious thought of Jane Stuyvesant-^ knowsTt.'' "^' ^^'' ^ ^'"^'"'^y ^"^«1^"« SH and he tl.liX^fi^"^*"* sometimes he was quite attentive to one of those Stephenson girls, at Aunt Maria's." o„t nT^^' ^^P*^^ Stephenson! You couldn't have got more ?n^ wax ir^;y, ^\ ?^" • y^^y> «^^'« nothing but a brS- Kr." ' ' "^ ^^''^ '' ^^ ^^^- ^'"^ ^^^«' <^«"W care !! S^^"' '^J?* "^^ ^* ^^^^^ *hat Miss Du Hare t " Uh, nothing at all, except that she was a dashing flirting op" a^ox^Ld'f '^^^ ' 'r^ '' ''"^ ^"^ invited hfm to t? l?ntfn^ '/?• f 'T'^ ^'"^ ^^°*- '^he fact is, Jim is good- ni^P S?l li'^'l^ ^"^ P^' ^"^ ^^* g« ^ certain way witfany nice girl. He likes to have a loUv. eood timp • hn^ !,« h.cu; own thoughts about them all,'as "l ^'^pp n to W There ''"^^^l^f^^^^^^^^^t he has a serious thought o?'' <•« I,- ^"',,1°'™"^' «i°ce nobody else will suit him and it's nrll"? ''°'" ""'"'''"«<' Eva, "that it would be altogether im- proper for you to enact the fable of the dog in the manae™ no her take hm yourself nor let any one else have hSiT "Oh a«to that," said Alice, flushing up, "he has mv free StyUtltlt.? '' -^^^ '"-'^ ^ "--»- "Except— "said Eva. vl ^/"' ^fu^^P^ P""*?* "* company," said Alice. « I'll tell you Eva, If anything could incline me more to such a decision ?t"s the way Aunt Maria has talked about Jim tol-^S^^^'hlm iS; .«! ■ ( : I I 330 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. tZV'ld'J^ nf ' ^"'' ""t'^ '^''' improbable parti I coald cnoose and as if, of course, I never could even think of him lately " said Eva ^^t ^f'T^^'^^'^ f good deal as to Jim, "Oh, that viritch of a creature," said Alice lauffhino « w. me hnw .kS Ik. ''»». out the most amusing thing is to said iiicf ^" "^^"'"S *" ^"^ " «»«% »l>»ted, it appears," " One thing is a comfort," said Eva " Annf lVfar,-o »,« u parti I could hink of him. en there are > fashionable lute, if they •e invitations 1 meet, and I 10 take him," al as to Jim, erday, that eable young he hadn't a hing. "He k.unt Maria." s Jim has a *te of resig- fightingyou e is certain thing is to >hn'8 ritual- ehurch last lies, or the Y remarked ermon than Harry and raight ; but ions." it appears," ing distant John, and he has any ria has her >uying her about, up rything of 13 energieH A MIDNIGHT CAUCUS OVER THE COALS. 331 are all used up, and there is less left to be expended on vou and me. A wedding in the family is a godsend^o us au" ^ dnn nf'''"''^''*-*'?''.^T '^ra^ched off into an animated discus- sion of some pomtsm Angie's wedding-dress, and went on with an increasing interest till it was interrupted by a dolorous voice from the top of the entry staircase aoiorous u Sl&' \*^® y^^ ^^^ ^^^^ i^«a what time it is 1 " Alice'Twtfir i^tt ?' '' '^ «"^^'" '^' ^- " ^- -, " Half-past one ! Mercy on us ! isn't it a shame ? » Coming Harry, coming this minute," called Eva as the two sisters began turning lown the gas aid raking up* h^fiJe sc^rfe^lt"^^^^^^^ r-"^"' ^P^-' ^^b-«' «^1-B7^d at the c™!^""""'''"^^' ""^ "''" '^^ ^"* ' " ^""^ ^ °«^«^ ^««ked ■ft n A III Uri 1 fl i ^11 '. it 332 WK AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. CHAPTER XLIV. FLUCTUATIONS. MiDNIGHT conversations of the sort we have chronicled, m... • Jf ?^«.«'i/ »ce and Eva, do not generally lead to ihe Zl "^T t?^ ""[t^^'^- ^r*^ conversations suggest a great deal, and settle nothing ; and Alice, after retiring, lay a long time with her great eyes wide open, looking into the darknes! of fu urity, and wondering, as girls of twenty-two or there- abouts do won. .r, what she should do next. nn J« T J' ""^ ^'^■P ^^/ '^ ^ *^? ^^^ "™*y »« ^«" be confessed at once, that no care and assiduity in fencing and fortifying the conditions of a friendship between an attractive young^ woman and a lively, energetic young ma ., will ensure their always re- raammg simply and purely those of companionship and good fellowship, and never becoming anything mort I.J"w w ''^^^- J«*»» »«*i Angle, the staik of friendship had had but short growth before developing the flower of love ; and now, m Alice's mind and conscience, it was becom- ing quite a serious and oublesome question whether a similar result were not impending over her. The wise man of old said : " He that delicately bringeth up his servant from a child shall have him for his son It last." Ihe proverb is significant, as showing the gradual growth of kindly relations mto something more and more kindly, and more absorbing. j) »"" So, in the night-watches, Alice mentally reviewed all those looks, words and actions of Jim's which produced a conviction m her mmd that he was passing beyond the allotted boundaries and approaching towards a point in which there would inevit-' ably be a crisis, calling for a decision on her part which should ""^u 1. u®'i^^^°'*''■^ ""^ ^^«» *^b»° h« had been. Her talk with Jiva had only set this possibility more distinctly before Was she, then, willing to give him up entirely, and to shut FLUCTUATIONS. 333 3 chronicled* lead to the jest a great lay a long le darkness 3 or there- onfessed at tifying the ng woman always re- anu good friendship flower of i^as becom- [* a similar ingeth up 1 at last." growth of ndly, and all those onviction tundaries, Id inevit- jh should Her talk ily before i to shut the door resolutely on all intimacy tending to keep up and en- courage feelings that could come to no result t When she pro- posed this to herself, she was surprised at her own unwillingness to let him go. She could scarcely fancy herself able to do without his ready friendship, his blight, agreeable society — without the sense of ownership and power which she felt in him. Reviewing the matter strictly in the night-watches, she was obliged to admit to herself that she could not afford to part with Jim ; that there was no woman she could fancy — certainly none in the circle of her acquaintance— whom she could be sincerely glad to have him married to ; and when she fancied him absorbed in any one else, there was a dreary sense of loss which surprised her. Was it possible, she asked herself, that he had become necessary to her happiness — he whom she never thought of otherwise than m a pleasant friend, a brother, for whose success and good fortune she had interested herself? Well then, was she ready for an engagement ? Was the great ultimate revelation of woman's life— that dark Eleusinian mystery of fate about which vague conjecture loves to gather, and which the imagination invests with all sorts of dim possibil- ities—suddenly to draw its curtains and disclose to her neither demi-god nor hero, but only the well-known, every-day fea- tures of one with whom she had been walking side by side for months past—" only Jim and nothing more ? " Alice could not but acknowledge to herself that she knew no man possible or probable that she liked better ; and yet this shadowy, ideal rival— this cross between saint and hero, this Knight of the Holy Grail — was as embarrassing to her con- clusions as the ghost in " Hamlet." It was only to be considered that the ideal hero had not put in an actual appearance. He was nowhere to be found or heard from ; and here was this warm-hearted, helpful, companionable Jim, with faults as plenty as blackberries, but with dozens of agreeable qualities to every fault ; and the time seemed to be rapidly coming when she must make up her mind either to take him or leave him, and she was not ready to do either 1 No wonder she lay awake, and studied the squares of the dim window and listened to the hours that struck, one after another, bringing her no nearer to fixed conclusions than before ! A young lady who sees the time coming when she must make a decision, jind who doesn't m '\ > . Ml V I ; «i 334 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. friends, and /et no tanVrV ShZlir^' ^'"'"^'^ *<'»'Wng and why must they end in a d^ZZ Tl? '""'' «»»'» UmesT to have a gentleman friend aUd^*^^ "'""^ ' "°"' ""« When she came to shana t.hi. f "^r .consequences I at It, she admitted thatTLol?*"* ">'» """"^^ ^^ Wk fishness, and might .'.ad totriflL^ wl ''I T'^' ^"^ of sil- and sacred. Alice «ro8ervance, all ences ! fds and lopk ' kind of sel- ttost precious i)le girl, and all along by been for his ise that she nore worthy jhould claim to him, and than if she fcory of the at, as their I, her man- hich might ' fulfil such 3 was glad ipel them, e managed ire was the Eva's toil, keep two y for one ' lived on and took le for the Istrom of ' sat chat- ne might Jtting up woman- i FLUCTUATIONS. 335 kind are m our deepest hearts, or how philosophically we mav look down on the vanity of dress, we Lmt all confess thTt I party IS aparty; and thesensible, economical womrwhodoes not often go, and does not make a point of having all the par^ andT IS toTr' "^?"T' ^ '^ '' g^- *" ?he more^c:^ and thought to thr exceptional occasion when she does Even wSr.r"^"'''' '^' impossibility of appearing at a feast Tnd fi tef a'nH^^^^^^ ""^ ««^v* *"d Alice cut and htted and trimmed and tried experiments in head-dresses o? taSr^"'"''/ ^'^^ 'l^ "^^^""^"^ Alice had the com?or of talking over and over to Eva of all the varying shades of the subject that was on her mind. ^ «vZo?K T^'T? ^""^^ "?* appreciate the blessing of a patient, saZ « n^'' ^''^TJ' "^^^ ^F ^^^^ ^^^^ "°«b^t^d interest the same story repeated over and over as it rises in one's thoughts t sa^^tSs tW ^^^^^^ '^^ "^"««^ interest fo the same things that Alice had said the night before, and went on repeating to her the same lessons of matronly wisdom wi?h stit' ^"^•*^'" '™.^^^ ^''^ neither of thei^betra^ng the slightest consciousness that the things they were sayiL were IsSed "' '"'"^ ''' minwentirfly ne^ and SeLun! fJ!n'^ character was discussed, and with that fine, skilful tZfVf *"^^^''' ^"^ 'y''^^''^' ^^i«h f«"^« the distinctive n. pSLl of r°'f «««\ersation. In the course of these various PvftLf Av"^'*'" P^^<^.^^it-painting, it became quite evident to fZ,S f'n ""^ '"^ J"'*^ .^^^* «*^*^ i^ which some people's admitted faults are more interesting and agreeable than the vutues of some others. When a woman gits thus fax, her oftulr n^tir ' '^''''' ^^ '^^^^ *^ an/far-sighted r'eade" Alice was by nature exact and conscientious as to all rules Xn/^ observances. Her pronunciation, whether of Eng-' lish or French, was critically perfect; her hand-writing and composition were faultless to a comma. She was an enthusla^Jfc and thorough mamtamer of all the boundaries and forms of good society and of churchly devotion. Jim, without bebg Si any sense really immoral or wicked, was a ^ort of privilete^ Arab, careering m and out through the boundaries of «11 de^ partments, shocking respectable old prejudices and fluttering s In "^ Hi i m i III m 336 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. But it is a ffLot Tif ^*"^""« *na<^ ^ras alarraiiig. violate il the,> own p rL77„eTfth?^^P^^' "'" ^«"^^ -^ exceedingly amused and pvn«"f ""^ cof.«'ewanc-««, are often ing them tLeTm her anffi^^^^^^^ ^''^^T P^^*«"'« ^^ «««" ing is so tiresome as perfect co S. T^^'^^ f/^ ^^^h" everything that amuses us and Sf;' f T,*" ^""^ ^^^^ it; and Alice if thHrnt}, ? f f "^ ^^"8*» ^^^^ outside of better for the V ry t^^^ XV h ^' *"^^' ^^^^^ ^^"^ ^^'^^ Well such being [he S"VThtr^^ unlike herself, was the position of the attacking f arty ' ''"' ''^*'' ^^"^ tervW :tee'eTuf rol^r.^ ^ '"^^ ^^-^ ^ P-ate in- revolving houf ince the TZ -""^ ?^'' r«^^^«^' ^ith every given hi^ a LttTd posftior^^^^^^^ ^""t ^'""^ ^^^^^ had own forthwith and tC^k! ^ "^^"^"^ ^^^« » ^^n^e of his Alice Van Arsdel She must noTT '^ *,^."' ^«"^« ^^ould be Bay him Nay ; and if she Td h:\tldnftr' ^7^"^^ ^'' swer. He would have her ifL To". . ^^® ^"^ ^^^ »« an- as Jacob did for Richel But wh ^r ''"^' ^^' *^«^^« !<>»« many times he hadTersuaded AhvA v,^'"" remembered how favours she had granted him hfwL f •^''^v.^^^' ^^^ "»»»y her to refuse, fie had loXd w7f?f '''^^''1 ^^^' '^ ™ ^^^ i" tisements of houses to let and fhl f ^v '''*''''^ *^ *^« * ''^^'^ ^^ ^^^ bought an engagement rW^wbLfc ^''f '• ^^^" ^^ »»«d satin case in a comer of S^' vist no ket'^^fi^'"^^""^^? ^^^ ^^^ solved that he would make to him«fi/ ' t""^ ^^ ^^« ^"^^ '«- the proper finger in thrneL'^twS^^^^^^^^^^ \'^^^t '' ^" to get an interview did nof v«f o^« ^ T^ .^^' ^ow he was dence. It is a facT on recor^^^^^^ but he trusted to Provi- were up the deed wL Se t^d Jim t'S ^Jr^^^^ but it came about in a wTy far diffe^Pn? f '^*''' ""''^ ""^aged ; any party, as we shall proJe d totow ""^ '"^ ^^'^^^^^ ^y ^t of cHgnita- Lng. o would not es, are often asure in see- else. Noth- II know that is out8i4,e of Jim all the like herself, e side, what private in- with every which had liome of his » should be } would not for an an- her as long bered how how many wae not in the adver- or the la«t 3 had com- iture, and ch he was en he had iced in its 8 inly re- •dge it on w he was to Provi- 3ur hours 3ngaged ; 'eseen by THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. 337 CHAPTER XLV. THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. IT wanted yet twenty minutes to eight o'clock, and Jim was sitting alone m the glow of the evening fireside. The warm, red light, flickering and shadowing, made the room seem like a mysterious grotto. Jim, in best party trim, sat gazing dreamily into the fire, turning the magic ring now and then in his vest pocket, and looking at his watch at intervals, while the mystenous rites of the toilet were going on upstairs. Alice had never made a more elaborate or more careful toilet Did she want to precipitate that which she said to herself she dreaded ? Certainly she did not spare one possible attraction. She evidently saw no reason, under present circumstances, whv she should not make herself look as well as she could. As ihe result of the whole day's agitations and discussions, she had come to the conclusion that if Jim had anything to say she would hsten to it advisedly, and take it into mature con- sideration. So she braided her long, dark hair, and crowned herself therewith, and then earrings, and brooches came twink- ling out here and there like stars, and bits of ribbon and vel- vet fluttered hither and thither, and fell into wonderfully appo- site places, and the wom.m grew and brightened before the glass, as a picture under the hands of the artist. It wanted yet a quarter of an hour of the time for the carriage when there came a light fluff of gauzy garments, and the two party goddesses floated in in all misty splendour, and seemed to fill the whole room with the flutter of dresses. Alice wa« radiant ; her eyes were never more brilliant, and she was full of that subtle brightness which comes from the tremour of fully-awakened feeling. She was gayer than was her usuM wont as she swept about the room and courtesyed with much solemnity to Jim, and turned herself round and round alter the manner of a revolving figure in the sho-^ windotvs Suddenly— and none of them knew how—there was a cjuick 3?)8 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. scream, an utterance if VnX^^^^^ Ther. was i was j„st doinK the most S fh!n ^■^J!'^^^ ** "^"^e, and Eva ately towards her sSter when Tnf ^^'''k^' ^'^ '"'^'"^ *^^«P«r- the woollen cloth from ihrtahlf^ ^f""' ^'^'?^'' ^^'^^ «4ht then, taking her^ hrarms h« UiT^ '''''^^1.'^ '^ '»''«""^' Alice ; out the firefbeat L it w^h M« h^H ' *'!i *^' «''^*' ^^^ ^^oshed fragments away anVcartin^ fhl^^'i^"^ ^*"»« ^^e burning one fearful, awe-struck mompn.^ Hf^v *^"°*- ^' «" Pa««ed in very shadow of death uDorhpr 7^^" *^'^''"^^ «^i»' with the fire, which in a molnt or two ^^ r""/'"^ fighting back the had fainted, and J^l'd iTa T oS^att^^^ ^^^^« do who have just seen death rUg up betw^pn fv,^'' ^ P*"P^« " She is safe now " said T m t A^ oetween them. and quivering tZ-hZdToot^X^t'^Jr- »»"^- <>««* strewed with the blacitened remrin. „f tl>. *"""'' "»» which he had torn away. " ShtT.M fiT' ,8*"!^ m$,teml cloth ha, aaved her throat and 1„L " "«*•*' ^' '^^'^ ' " «>« tive, ; Jd. when ,ht1;^Se3 hel Z, That t^T fj 'l?*"™" hi8 darling, his life, his love Th«T j i • ^'"'"''1 •=»" her of the shadow together-Vt v^u"^^™ '" ^^^ """f"' ^^ I«rishes and drops offaSdi^tilfi^K"'''''' "' "■»' *« &'»« Aliee felt that sfie loved jS/Lri ^T'' *« ""'y "^'ity- she did not dispute to'li^S^tosplka's he HiS"' '." ""'• ""^ '■^f.t^r.H/ right tol.re1„?'hto4. '"*■ '"^ '»"^'«'" «^the'L;;^^;^ts:,|o»g^^^^^^^^ Alice, for tL presenr^fS 'Er« . i* " '"'^'" J'"" 'o™ ^W, «nd 'elf-posse^draourtiaTa'SlTT?*,'" ''» ^"^•''^ lit" ""'f^^ thrsh^Jk' toTr'^itr" "12™"^,?"" must be a note sent to Aunt M«ri. i . ... "*" there pursued Eva, when ili^ Sid*& lit" "^ *ut "^^ » " ».&, where Jin. was devoting ^StlT''"'^^''' '"' *"" THE VALLEY OF THK SHADOW. 3.S9 1 11 tell her that you have met with an accdent that will detjun you and me, but that you are not dangerous." said Eva as she wrote her note and sent Mary up with it It was not untU tranquillity had somewhat settled down on the party that Jim began to feel that his own hands were blis- tered; tor, though a man under strong excitement may handle fire for a while and not feel it, yet nature keeps account and bnncs m her bill m due season. " Why, JIm, ;;-ou brave fellow," said Alice, suddenly raising nerselt, as she sa./ an expression of pain on his face. « here I am thmki ig only ver them ; e on Jim's n the ideal ' life. But if his most nd earnest, was really nted some- nly feeling ied, on her er feeling. r the cloud 'al to them rdinary ac- Br of death s. Do we ring out in ever there boys who went to the recent war. Looking in a photograph book on« m're'ttan : Z' '^ ""^? '' \*^^^^«^ '^' infica't^Xthin^^ more than a boys experience, but, as he turns the following p^e8,he sees the same face, afte'r suffering and dang^^^^^^^ n!rSl T'lf""^ "/*^" '^'^""Sth of the inner man. and 1m parted a higher and more spiritual expression to thL count^- The sudden nearness into which they had come to the ever possible tragedy that underlies human life, had given a de^D and solemn tenderness to their affection. It wS a ba„S into the love which is stronger than death Mce flhe^ ttl?T' ^rf TSr*^^"^^ f«^^ or a doubt,1n Tetum foi the true love that she felt was ^eady to die for h^r. socl^trwerl ?uTof^?h.*^'S '^'^ '^''' ^'''^y ^^ '^'^ ^^^er's fW „«J ! }- ^ ^i^ ^^' **^®P' enthusiastic tenderness of blSt::'""^ '' ^"' ^^^^^ ^^^^^ ^-^ -dd-ly a^en h^l} ^ ^f ,^«?fit ,; , ' a 4 .! ' i* n f , 4 344 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. a man of high fashion, and he was, if one only could get at him, on many accounts better worth talking to than many mo- dern beaux ; but as age and time had locked him in a case and thrown away the key, the suggestion of tender relations be- tween him and Mrs. Betsey was impossible enough to answer Miss Dorcas's purpose. But Mrs. Betsey was bursting to begin on the contents of her news-bag, and so, out it came. " Well now, Dorcas, if you won't go to being ridiculous, and talking about Major Galbraith, I'll tell you who it is. It's that dear, good Mr. Fellows that got Jack back again for us, and I'm sure I never feel as if I could do enough for him when I think of it, and besides that, he always is so polite and con- siderate, and talks with one so nicely, and is so attentive, seems to think something of you, if you are an old woman, so that I'm glad with all my heaf t, for I think it's a splendid thing, and she's just the one for him, and do you know I've been thinking a great while that it was gc ing to be ? I have noticed signs, and have had my own thoughts, but I didn't let on. I despise peo- ple that are always prying and spying and expressing opinions before they know." This lucid exposition might have proceeded at greater length, had not Miss Dorcas, whose curiosity was now fully roused, cut into the conversation with an air of judicial decision. " Well now, after all, Betsey, will you have the goodness, since you began to tell the news, to tell it like a reasonable creature 1 Mr. Fellows is the happy man, you say. Now, ' who — is — the woman ? " " Oh, didn't I tell you ? Why, what is the matter with me to-day ? I thought I said Miss Alice Van Arsdel. Won't she make hira a splendid wife? and I'm sure he'll make a good husband ; he's so kind-hearted. Oh ! you ought to have seen how kind he was to Jack that day he brought him back ; and such a sight as Jack was, too— all dirt and grease ! Why it took Dinah and me at least two hours to get him clean, and there are not many young gentlomeii that would be so patient as he was. I never shall forget it of him." " Patient as who was ? " said Miss Dorcas, " I believe Jack was the last nominative case in that sentence ; do pray coiu- uld get at many mo- . case and ations be- to answer tntents of lIous, and It's that r us, and Q when I and con- , seems to that I'm and she's linking a dgns, and spise pec- opinions ir length, y roused, on. goodness, 3asonable . Now, with me Von't she ! a good lave seen a.ck; and Why it ean, and o patient eve Jack ray coiu- WHAT THEY ALL SAID ABOUT IT. 345 pose^ymir^elf, Betsey, and don't ^.ke entire leave of your •• I mean Mr. Fellows was patient, of course, ycu know " saidSl)tL'^ ^'^ ' ^^^^^^ P^^"« *« -^ -^- y- -an," peZg It r "'' ^'" '^'"'^ '' " ^^^^ thing-and were you ex- " So far as I know the parties, it's as good a thing as en- t^r^T^Z^'^'" -''' ^^^^ ^-- "They h^a.: ^ 2 W-ll, did you ever think it would come about? " JNo ; I never troubled my head with speculations on what plainly IS none of my concern," said Miss Dorc^ It was evident that MJss Dorcas was on the highest and most serene mountain-top of propriety thi. morninf and all her words and actions indicated that calm superioritv to vulvar curiosity which, in her view, was befitting a trained lady Perhaps a httle pique that Betsey had secufed such a promt mg bit f. news m advance of herself, added to her virtuous Irf l^t "' ^r ^T""- . ^^ ^^^ ^" "^«r*^^ -"d thrbest of u are apt to undervalue what we do not ourselves originally pro- 'a^ 'i^''' ^^^^^« ^i«h«d in a gentle lanner^ to remind Mrs. Betsey that she was betraying too much of an in^ clmation for gossip, she did not succeed. The clock ofTime had gone back on the dial of the little old lady, and she was as full of chatter and detail as a school-girl, and determined at any rate to make the most of her incidents, and to^^eate a sensation in her sister's mind-for what is more provoking than o have people sit calm and unexcited when we have a stjimulating bit of news to tell ? It is an evident v^Ltion of Christian charity. Mrs. Betsey now drew forth he^nex card J ^h ^'^^',?°F«^« •' y^^'y^ no idea. They've been Cng the most dreadful time over there ! Miss Alice has had the greltest escape ! The most wonderful providence ! It reaUy makeTmv blood run cold to think of it.^ Don't you think, ^..^^^^[1 dressed to go to Mrs. Wouvermans' party, and hei^ d^^ssl^^bf on fire, and if it hadn't been for Mr. WoWs^lt e of m^^^^ ?^;^lt!,^:nJ^?^ '^"'-"^^ *^ death-really iSirned^SS^I "^ou "don't say so!" said Miss Dorcas, who now showed • f f II f| i"f*^ 346 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. excitement enough to fully satisfv Mi;-:. Bets^Y- " How very dreadful .' Why, how was it ? " ' ■'■' Yes she was passiig in front cf the fire, in a tain white tarletan, made very full, with flounces, and it was just drawn in and flashed up like tinder. Mr. iellows caught the cloth from the table, wrap].; i her in it and laid her on the sofa, and then tore arui beat out ihe fire with his hands." " Dear— me ! dear— nr.a ! " aid Miss Dorcas, " how dreadful! But ho did just the right thi jg." " \'es, indeed ; you ought to have men I Mrs. Henderson, showed me what was left of the dregs, ^uid it was really awful to se.) ! I c.^uld not help thinking, * In the midst of life we are in death.' All trimmed up with scarlet velvet and bows, and j' fjt iianging in rags and tatters, where it had been burned and Uvn away ! I never saw any thing so solemn in my life." " A narrow escape, certainly," said Miss Dorcas. " And is she not injured at all ? " " Nothing to speak of, only a few slight burns, ; but poor Mr. Fellows has to have his hands bandaged and dressed every day ; but of course he doesn't mind that since he has saved her life. But just think of it, Dorcas, we shall have two weddings, and it'll make two more visiting places. I'm going to tell Dinah all about it," and the little woman fled to the kitchen, with Jack at her heels, and was soon heard going over the whole story again. Dinah's effusion and sympathy, in fact, were the final refuge of Mrs. Betsey on every occasion, whether of joy or sorrow or perplexity— and between her vigorous exclamations and loud responses, and Jack's running commentary of unrestrained bark- ing, there was as much noise over the announcement as could be made by an average town meeting. Thus were the tidings received across the way. In the Van Arsdel family, Jim was already an established favoiirite, Mr. Van Arsdel always liked him as a bright, agreeable evening visitor, and, now that he had acquhtd a position that promised a fair support, there was no oppot i on his part to overcome. Mrs. Van Arsdel was one of the ^ uherly, complying sort of worn, n, generally desirous ( " dovx^ what the next person to her her to do : and, thoi '>> ike was greatly confused by never was wa -.' - remembering Alice's decided a. -^verations that "«7 " How very tHn white just drawn t the cloth 16 sofa, and w dreadful! Henderson, •eally awful life we are 1 bows, and burned and life." " And is ; but poor 38sed every 3 saved her ► weddings, » tell Dinah chen, with • the whole inal refuge r sorrow or and loud lined bark- as could be 'n the Van irite, Mr. le evening b promised overcome, ing sort of reon to her never was WHAT THEY ALL SAID ABOUT IT. 347 and never would be anything, and that Jim was not at all the person she ever should think of marrying," yet, since it was evident that she was now determined upon the affair, Mrs. Van Arsdel looked at it on the bright side. "After all, my dear," she said to her spouse, " if I must lose both my daughters, it's a mercy to have them marry and settle down here in New York, where I can have the comfort of them. Jim will always be an attentive husband and a good family man. I saw that when he was helping us move ; but I'm sure I don't know what Maria will say now ! " "No matter what Maria says, my dear," said Mr. Van Arsdel. " It don't make one hair white or black. It's time you were emancipated from Maria." But Aunt Maria, like many dreaded future evils, proved less formidable on this occasion than had been feared. The very submissive and edifying manner in which Mr. Jim Fellows had received her strictures and cautions on a former occasion, and the profound respect he had shown forher opinion, had so far wrought upon her as to make herfeel that it was really a pity that he was not a young man of established fortune. If he only had anything to live on, why, he might be a very desir- able match ; and so, when he had a good position and salary, he stood some inches higher in her esteem. Besides this, there was another balm which distilled resignation in the cup of acquiescence, and that was the grand chance it gave her to say, "I told you so." How dear and precious this privilege is to the very best of people, we need not insist. There are times when it would comfort them, if all their dearest friends were destroyed, to be able to say, " I told you so. It's just as I always predicted ! " We all know how Jonah, though not a pirate or a cut-throat, yet wished himself dead because a great city was not destroyed, when he had taken the trouble to say it would be. Now, though Alice's engagement was not in any strict sense an evil, yet it was an event which Aunt Maria had always foreseen, foretold and insisted on. So when, with heart-sinkings and infinite precautions, Mrs. Van Arsdel had communicated the news to her, she was rather relieved at the response given, with a toss of the head and a vigorous sniff : " Oh, that's no news to me ; it's just what I have foreseen all i: "1 ■ 1 4 H 11 ^H 1 I M ^M 1 ■ * ? ■ ! -; 1 ■ i , 1- 1 I.. I 1 348 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. along-what I told you was coming on, and you wouldn't 7!v- 1. ^"^.ii^P".^" °^y«" ^i" ««« th»t I ™ right." of JnS'" ' '*-*^ ^i!:'- X^P ^?^^^' " ^*^*^ ^<^ ^'«« J™'« presence niind in saving her life that decided Alice at last. She thin "* ' ^ "^"^"'^ ^^"'"^ '^'^^ ''®*"y ^^^«d hi»" ti" Knl^f ^t ""^^""^T^ 'i "^^ * S^°^ **^^°g *^at there was some- body at hand who had sense to do the right thing when girh will be so careless ; but it wasn't that. She meant to haveliim all along ; and I knew it," said Aunt Maria. " Well, Jim Fel- lows after all, isn't the worst match a giri could make either, now that he has some prospects of his own— but, at any rate, it has turned out just as I said it would. I knew she'd mairv him six months ago, just as well as I know it now, unless you and she listened to my advice then. So now all we have to do is to make the best of it. You've got two weddings on your hands now, Nelly, instead of one, and I shall do aU I can to help you I wasout^l day yesterday looking at sheeting, and I thmk that at Shank's & Maynard's is decidedly the firmeft and cheapest, and I ordered three pieces sent home ; and I carried back the napkins to Taggart's and then went ramblirg off by the Fark to find that woman that does marking '» ^ ^ Mm. Van A?idd*"*' ^ ^"^ ^''^'' "'' """""^ °^^'^®^ ^ y^""'" 1**^ f^ k^H^' ^^''P^ ^'? ^^"".^ ^^^ something-. Though I'm not fit to be out ; I ve such a dreadful cold in my headfl can hardly see ; and ndmg in these New York omnibuses always makes it u ?xf^u ^*"*i "^J^^ "^^^ y^" ®^P«se yourself in that way 1 'Well somebody's got to do it-and your judgment isn't worth a fip Nelly. That sheeting that /ou were think ng of J^te^tn^'^.^l'^.^^^i.*"** cost six cents a yard more^ I couldn t think of having things go that way." self skk '^'"^ ^""^^ "^^ "**""'* ^""^ ""^ "^ ^*"* you to make your- « Oh I sha'n't be sick. I may suffer ; but I sha'n't give up. I m not one of the kind If you had the cold in your head Inf K /fA ? -"^l ^""''^ ^^ ^? ^"^' ^^**^ ^^^ giri« nuking you ; but that isn t my way. I keep up, and attend to things! WHAT THEY ALL SAID ABOUT IT. 349 I want these things of Angle's to be eot up properly, as they ought to be, and there's nobody to do it but me.' And little Mrs. Van Arsdel, used, from long habit, to be thus unceremoniously snubbed, dethroned, deposed, and set down hard by her sister when in full career of labour for her benefit, looked meekly into the fire, and comforted herself with the re- flection that it " was just like Maria. She always talked so ; but, after all, she was a good soul, and saved her worlds of trouble, and made excellent bargains for her." 1 ^ 1 ^t I i\ '■ I '> ■ ' 1! ■ i mi WE AND OUR NKTOHROTTR!.' CHAPTEK XLVir. " IN THE FORGIVENKSS OF SIN8." THIS article of faith forms a part of the profession of all Christendom, is solemnly recited every sfndav and n anv liturgy, whether Koniaii or Greek or Andican or T nthprl ^hlf^' ^^"«*^''«^^^y looked into, it is a proposition under which in ^ ;^^iS^:::T«^^^ 5^^ ^:^' nounced these words with all the rest of the ApS cVee^ which she has recited de^^outedly twice a day every Sunday fo,' forty years or more. She always recited hL S in a good 8 rong, clear voice, designed to rebuke the indolent or fasti etrin'^hV: .^n"""?'^^^ r r^^^P^^^^' ^^^ made a deep reve^: iWmawTT'Pf\** ^^"^ ^^^« of Jesus; and somehow tha^ in w^ ^ parcel witL the protesting saint and martyrs tWnL?. Jr^"^ ''^^ ^"^ sold, were shining down upon her er 1 f. ^' P?'"^'/ ^ ".^*^^« This solemn standinfup in wZ. « ""Tf ^^^ '''^^^ ^^' Clhristian faith every Sunday dorin^st/^aitnT^ fT^ 'f^''!^ "*"^ schist:, a^dlTx inTreeularLv ^i '^^fu^ ^^\^^ve it with unfalter- ing regularity. ^othir'5 would have sho. ked h r more than fhrown'fS t: *-t.V*^--d not believe tKtlts tk»r M^» • . r™ "*' '^ ">«■■« wss anythintc in the world aidn t mean to believe in, it was " the forghenm of dm " sympathy With them. Whan fKoT, ^;^ i omp rtim have nothing more to do with theii. 'WSZeTtol^" IN THE FOKOIVKNKSS OF SIN8.' 351 sion of all and niaiiy hat have a Lutheran, il doctrine dor which other doc- in Israel, I just >ro es' Creed, unday for n a good, '< or fasti- 3ep rever- somehow onfession i martyrs upon her ng up in Sunday, I and lax unfalter- ore than i articles le world i in, and s." }hip and isher lo [ to con • aider it a part of public justice and good morals to clear her skirts from all contact with sinners. If she iieard of penalties and troubles that befell evil doers, it was with a iace of grim satisfaction. " It serves them right— just what they ought to expect. I don't pity them in the least," were familiar phrases with her. If anybody did her an injury, crossed her path, showed her disrespect or contumely, she seemed to feel as free and full a liberty of soul to hate them as if the Christian reli- gion had never been heard of. And, in particular, for the sins of women. Aunt Maria had the true ingrain Saxon ferocity which SI' ron Turner describes as characteristic of the original Saxon female in the earlier days of Englisii history, when tlje unchaste woman was pursued and beaten, starved and frozen, from house to houso, by the merciless justice of her si ,ters. It is the same spirit that has come down through English law and literature, and shows itself in the old popular ballad of " Jane Shore," where, without a word of pity, it is recorded how Jane Shore, the king's mistress, after his death, first being made to do public penance in a white sheet, was thereafter turned out to be frozen and starved to death in the streets, and died miserably in a ditch, from that time called Shoreditch. A note tells us that there was one mav who, moved by pity, at one time sheltered the poor creature and gave her food, for which he was thrown into prison, to the great increase of her sorrow and misery. It was in a somewhat similar spirit that Mrs. Wouvermans regarded all sinning women. Her uniform ruling in such cases was that they were to be l-t alone by all decent people, and that if they fell into mi .y an ' want, it was onlj just what they deserved, and she wm rI.\ of it. What business had they to behave so 1 In her view, all eflFoi-ts to introduce sympathy and mercy into prison discipline — all forbearance and pains-taking with the sinful and lost in all places in society — was just so much encouragement given to the criminal classes, and one of the lax humanitarian tendencies of the age. It is quite certain that h d Mrs. Wouvermans been a guest in old times at a certain Pharisee's house, where the Master allowed a ff-Uen woman t > kiss His feet, she would liave joined in mv'ng : *•' If tiaa man were a prophet he would have known what man- ner of woman this is that toucheth him, for she is a sinner." ( ! SS2 WE ANt> OITR NEIdllBOURS. OTd'"thTTT''''''l"'^"u """■';•■'' '""•-"•ence of .pint hetw, „ hor a,,?." ''"f P'"''''""y Son'lay. Ev« ha.l come to church with h« o/.f„ni - ""o "', \«e gospel, no sensible person con versanf wJfh inTlt^P. '","'.".'' «» ""? "•" kingdom of heaven biJyor- thought how ThSe T """' "JP '^y™'* '^"•™- '«^he„ K theZ,. X'S Lf*' "■?«.<">«' ».« ^ utterly beyond hooe. ..no had beuayoa hf aud sinned with her was re- "IN THE FUHOIVENKSS OF SINS." 353 spected, Haltered, rich, caressed, and joined in marriage to a pure and virtuous wife, a blind and keen sense of injustice awoke every evil or revengeful passion within her. " If they won't let me do good, I can do mischief," she thought, and she was now ready to do all she could to work misery and ruin for a world that would give her no place to do better. Mother Moggs saw Maggie's brightness and smartness, and the remains of her beauty. She flattered and soothed her. To say the truth. Mother Moggs was by no means all devil. She had large remains of that motherly nature which is common to warm-blooded women of easy virtue. She took Maggie's part, was indignant at her wrongs, and off'ered her a shelter and » share in her business. Maggie was to tend her bar ; and by her talents and her good looks and attractions Mother Moggs hoped to double her liquor sales. What if it did ruin the men 1 What if it was selling them ruin, madness, beggary — so much the better — had they not ruined her ? If Maggie had been left to her own ways, she might have been the ruin of many. It was the Christ in the heart of a woman who had the Christian love and Christian courage to go after her and seek for her, that brought to her salvation. The invisible Christ must be made known through human eyes ; he must speak through a voice of earthly love, and a human hand inspired by His spirit must be reached forth to save. The sight of Eva's pure, sweet face in that den of wicked- ness, the tears of pity in her eyes, the imploring tones of her voice, had produced an electric revulsion in Maggie's excitable nature. She was not, then, forsaken ; she was cared for, loved, followed even into the wilderness, by one so far above her in rank and station. It was an illustration of what Christian love was, which made it possible to believe in the love of Christ. The hymns, the prayers, that spoke of hope and salvation, had a vivid meaning in the light of this interpretation. The enthu- siasm of gr'aitude that arose first towards Eva, overflowed and bore the soul higher towards a Heavenly Friend. Maggie was now longing to come back and prove by her devotion and obedience her true repentance, and Eva had de- cided to take her again. With two weddings impending in the family, she felt that Maggie's skill with the needle and her facility in matters pertaining to the female toilet might do good !| '\ ' 354 : WE AND OUR NEIGHBOT7R8. not been able aLr thp mncl . ^''''^ *i*"S8 that they have Eva's housekee^nl pnH "'^^^ «^^«n"«»« efforts, to hinder, and feather i^hercap^ So aftTJ,-'"'''T' t"" ^^^' ^«'« ^^i^^ ^ « Woi "^ , P- ^^' a^er dinner, Eva began with • quickly, "I think it mnfo i„«v,^i: i ¥ i « ^^'j ^"® added got he^r'back agaii Tr sK Maggie and seamstresses thit I know of " A f ^fj^^nkest and best darkened. Everv trarenT. ^ i ^""* ^^"^ ' ^^^w suddenly as she said : ' ''^ good-humour vanished from her face wh^n'^^ruttfonTe'fairi; 'aJtZ7r'? *^ ^ ^^^ ^^-'' into yJur family?" ^ ^"'^ ""^ ^^^^ S""^' *<> ^^ing her back "IN THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS." 355 " Yes, aunt, I thought it my Christian duty to take care of her, and see that she did not go to utter ruin." " I don't know what you mean," said Aunt Maria. " / should say she had gone there now. Do you think it your duty to turn your house into a Magdalen asylum ? " " No, I do not ; but I do think it is our duty to try to help and save this one girl whom we know— who is truly repentant, and who wants to do well." " Repentant ! " said Aunt Maria in a scornful tone. " Don't tell me. I know their tricks, and you'll just be imposed on and get yourself into trouble. I know the world, and I know all about it." Eva now rose and played her last card. "Aunt Maria," she said, "you profess to be a Christian and to follow the Saviour who came to seek and save the lost, and I don't think you do right to treat with such scorn a poor girl that is trying to do better." " It's pretty well of you, Miss, to lecture me in this style ! Trymg to do better ! " said Aunt Maria, " then what did she go off for, when she was at your house and you were doing all you could for her ? It was just that she wanted to go to the bad." "She went off. Aunt Maria," said Eva, "because she over- heard all you said about her, the day you were at my house. She heard you advising me to send her mother away on her account, and saying that she was a disgrace to me. No wonder she ran off." " Well, serves her right for listening I Listeners never hear any good of themselves," said Aunt Maria. " Now, aunty," said Eva, " nobody has more respect for your good qualities than I have, or more sense of what we all owe you for your kindness to us ; but I must tell you fairly that, now I am married, you must not come to my house to dictate about or interfere with my family arrangements. You must understand that Harry and I manage these matters our- selves and will not allow any interference ; and I tell you now that Maggie is to be at our house, and under my care, and I request that you will not come there to say or do a^iything which may hurt her mother's feelings or hers." " Mighty fine," said Aunt Maria, rising in wrath, " when it has come to this, that servants are preferred before me ! *' ii 356 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. tn *f M ^'^ "f /«"»« t« that Aunt Maria. It has simply come to this : that I am to be sole mistress in my own faniilv and sole judge of what it is right and proper tVdo^ andThen I runC I do"^'" ^^ '^'' ^^^ ^ ^^^'* ^*"*^ y^"" ^« off«' Having made this concluding speech while she was putting on her bonnet and shawl, Eva now cheerfully wished her aunt good afternoon, and made the best of her way down-stairs „«, « ritualistic workT " -'--"='•, "lu wuicn was numori»l ideal in his own 362 WE AND OUK NEIOHBOUM. -doit, but f do7Xei?er;^;;t an^r ■ f "."^Hy It. i'lttj'er nas anything to do with thinS-»'*tavtL^^^^^^^^ ,"I wouldn't .God;^:"iVpeSttt:i:,i-'«. *- a.. » .pp.., , m him can sen such a workdVi,!; j '^^ "**' '"»'' » heart Your minister takes one Tud anothl ."'' »<" ^^t to help it. says nothing, and, bv-and bv th„ '" ^^ '""' «»»«, and " But in tL berinnin^r •' =:-?1.'"°"*'^ "°'»«« in" nothing to sho»- tf™2dy%f r^ " "".^ l"^ »« "oney, and nobody believed in, aST/peonleThlr''^ '» ^°« "ork that hopeless that it wis monfv^Zil, ^^^'yWy thought so whom could he go but Godl ^T V^^. *" ''«'? ••'» To him, and beganf and hMbl.n^i^"'/''^ »*'''<'*«'» help »nd 7helieve^G<;d md X^ta t^h A.^^ '^''^ '''' ^ce^ »ve.ii, said Jim " T'm *• newspaper fellows get a con^iderLr«? T ^h^^^'Sh but we ast; and iVe look! d throuXJk ^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^'' «^«* and m It. A man don't go on doW «T • /' *"^ ^ ^^^^«^« eight thousand a ye^oTvZ!r ^'T"'' "^ '^ «'' ««^«n or something; and I know? End lair.vf '"^'' ""^^""^« ^o concern can't be less than thS '' ' *^^ ^''P^"^^^ ^^ that " Well," said Harry, « we have ^ I«.f great orphan house of Halllla wLt -?! "^ monument in the buildings. I have stood n the mS '^X^^^^^^ ^^ «oHd stone all buUt by one man, without feunf^ *"*^ ^^^^ ^^^^ us his written record how dav bvT- ' '''^°' ^^ ^'^* he went to God and asked' for hio ^'.*® ^^Penses thickened. " But I maintS '' safd I> P '"?? f'' ^^^ ^<>"nd them." ' to human nature 'Peopre?ouTS°'P.^'^t "J^"^ *»i« *PP«al was sympathies were moved and thev.""^^^ '^'^' sight of such a work isl'4' c^^^^'t him help. Tlte very THE PEARL CROSS. 363 I don t think that theory accounts for the facts," said Bol- ton. Admitting that there is a God who is near every human heart in its most secret retirement, who knows the most hidden moods, the most obscure springs of action, how can you prove that this God did not inspire the thoughts of sympathy and purposes of help there recorded ? For we have in this Franke's journal, year after year, records of help coming in when it was wanted, having been asked for of God, and obtained with as much regularity and certainty as if checks had been drawn on a banker." "Well" said Dr. Campbell, "do you suppose that, if I should now start to build a hospital without money, and pray every week for funds to settle with my workmen, it would come { "No, Doctor, you're not the kind of fellow that such things happen to," said Jim, " nor am I." "It supposes an exceptional nature," said Bolton, "an utter renunciation of self, an entire devotion to an unselfish work, and an unshaken faith in God. It is a moral genius, as peculiar and as much a gift as the genius of painting, poetry, or music. ' ° ^ •" " It is an inspiration to do the work of humanity, and it presupposes faith," said Eva. "You know the Bible says He that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that He is a re warder of those that diligently seek Him.' " The result of that fireside talk was not unfruitful. The next week was a harvest for the Home. In blank envelopes, giving no names, came various sums. ±nty dollars, with the added note : " From a believsr in human nature." This was from Dr. Campbell. A hundred dollars was found in another envelope, with the note: " To help up the fallen, From one who has been down." This was from Bolton. Mr. St. John sent fifty dollars with the words : " -From a fellow-worker." Of A, WE AND ODK NEIOHBOtTRS. ''"''• ""'"y™ ^•'"~- «% with the w„d,: " Prom one of tha h<)y»." None of these consulted with tl,. .1, ^ Father that seeth i„ seoret " L . .oTtpl™ tCi """' "" s: THE UNPROTECTED FEMALE. 365 tribution fcJiat the CHAPTER XLIX. THE TTNPROTECTED FEMALE. " ^ I ^HE Squanti nd Patuxet Manufacturing Company J^ have conclu ted not to make any dividends for the current year." Such was the sum and substance that Miss Dorcas gathered from a very curt letter which she had just received from the secretary of that concern, at the time of the semi-annual divi- dend. The causes for this arrangement were said to be that the entire income of the concern (which it was cheerfully stated had never been so prosperous) was to be devoted to the erection of a new mill and the purchase of new machinery, which would in the future double the avails of the stock. Now, as society is, and, for aught we see, as it must be, the masculine half of mankind have it all their own way ; and the cleverest and shrewdest woman, in making investments, has simply the choice between what this or that man tells her. If she fails by chance into the hands of an honest man, with good sense, she may make an investment that will be secure to pay all the expenses of her mortal pilgrimage, down to the banks of Jordan ] but if, as quite often happens, she falls into the hands of careless or visionary advisers, she may suddenly find herself in the character of the " unprotected female " at some half-way station of life, with her ticket lost and not a cent to purchase her further passage. Now, this was precisely the predicament that this letter announced to Miss Dorcas. For the fact was that, although she and her sister owned the house they lived in, yet every available cent of income that supplied their establishment came from the dividends of these same Squantum and Patuxet mills. It is a fact, too, that women, however strong may be their own sense and ability, do, as a general fact, rely on the judg- ^, •ytvV^, V ^} m, ^>> ■A IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 1.1 130 US u |Z8 1^ |3^ |2.2 ■ 4.0 112.0 125 i 1.4 1.8 1.6 150mm >1PPLIED^ IIVMGE . Inc ■s^ 1653 East Main street ^:^ ^ Rochester, NY 14609 USA -a^s*^ Phone: 716/482-0300 ■ga r—-— Fax: 716/288-5989 © 1993. Applied Imate, Inc., All Rights Reserved W^ \\ ^\' <^ f o e 366 WE AND OITR NKioHBOURS. and cloeete ofU"^''"""''^"^ failures ab?£l t.^^'^ * ^*»^h one of f L • ^® "*"* and got it all m; ^'T^^ *"*^ somebody mmmm THE UNPROTECTED FEMALE. dQ7 m suddenly comes this letter, announcing to them an indefinite suspension of their income. Mrs. Betsey could scarcely be made to believe it. " Why, they've got all our money ; are they going to keep it, and not pay us anything ? " " That seems to be their intention," said Miss Dorcas grimly. " But, Dorcas, I wouldn't have it so. I'd rather have our money back again in United States stock." "So had I.'^ " Well, if you write and ask them for it, and tell them that you must have it, and can't get along without, won't they send it back to you V ** No, they won't think of such a thing. They never do business that way." " Won't 1 Why, I never heard of such folks. Why, there's no justice in it." " You don't understand these things, Betsey ; nor I, very well. All I know is, that Dick took our money and bought stock with it, and we are stockholders of this company." " And what is being a stockholder 1 " " As far as I can perceive, it is this : when old women like you and me are stockholders, it means that a company of men take our money and use it for their own purposes, and pay us what they like, when it comes convenient ; and when it's not convenient, they don't pay us at all. It is borrowing people's money, without paying interest." " W^hy, that is horrid. Why, it's the most unjust thing I ever heard of," said Mrs. Betsey. " Don't you think so, Dor- cas 1 " " Well, it seems so to me ; but women never understand business. Dick used to say so. The fact is, old women have no business anywhere," said Miss Dorcas bitterly. " It's time we were out of the world." " I'm sure I haven't wanted to live so very much," said Mrs. Betsey, tremulously. " I don't want to die, but I had quite as lieve be dead." " Come, Betsey, don't let us talk that way," said Miss Dor- cas. " We shan't gain anything by flying in the face of Provi- dence." " But, Dorcas, I don't think Ctlll you S68 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. -'.-J wi*uK .' ibe company has bflfln mTi,- ""•y''"»'^« «> go on— ^^ "Oh, yes, never so \irJm7&^Z Tu^""^ '"^"^y' ^o" wy ? " paying the Stockholders fLyhave^nSH ^^^ ' ^"^' ^°«tead of and enlarge the businesi" ^ ^ '°*^^ ^ ?»»* "P a new mill a rH^^ ^®tod so ? » ■But, said Mrs.' Betsev u„fy?^*«i- would." ^hen what we want is somethwT*"*,- "'" ^" <^»»»t be to us """ifh- f ?^ -i^hout LTomtX^a^r^^ '^^^ ' W^y> we «m^f ^i^''>^d Miss Dorcr:S±'^^^^" ««« '" " seu thrhou:;?" !rr"^^.^ ^w-^e." Jhought; " an^hLr r;e'"^,^^,^^^^^^ ^hast at the with all our things ? \ \Zl f ''''^ ."^^""^ should we do we got any money and pu. it in?nl ' T ^^"« ^^^ it ; Td if take It and use itf a^d Slav . « i^''^'^^' P'^P^^ would just go just as my mor^!- did th^.f n- 1°*'''°'^ > «^ «l«e it would^l That was going to Sat oJf/^^''? P^* ^"'« t^at Aumw bank 50 end to the faS Xut wW T^^^^f /^''t^^^- ThSe w« Jack, perceiving b7h » ™PP»»«.!— you and I and Jack." the mateer, here j'l^^a^'^ "tTap IrkhV^*^* *« V««, you poor doggie,, s^d M^. t.'ro?;Sg; .„,„ how much to go on — you say ? " instead of 1 »eM' mill earn, that , and now d vote ? " •8, where B money I so they We ; and fifty per 36 to us, Vhy, we t at the 1 we do and if W just lid all bank, e was asud- -never iwent but it tleft, We m'll THE UNPROTECTED FEMALE. 369 all starve together. How much money have you got left, Dor- cas T' Miss Dorcas drew out an old porte-monnaie and opened it. " Twenty dollars." " Oh, go 'way. Miss Dorcas ; ye don't know what a lot I's got stowed away in my old tea-pot ! " chuckled a voice from behind the scenes, and Dinah's woolly head and brilliant ivories appeared at the slide of the china-closet, where she had been an unabashed and interested listener to the conversation. " Dinah, I'm surprised," said Miss Dorcas, with dignity. "Well, y' can be surprised and git over it," said Dinah, rolling her portly figure into the conversation. " All I's got to say is, dere ain't no use for Mis' Betsey here to be worritin' and gettin' into a bad spell 'bout money, so long as I's got three hundred dollars laid up in my tea-pot. 'Tain't none o' your rags neither," said Dinah, who was strong on the specie question — " good bright silver dollars, and gold guineas, and eaglcL, i tucked away years ago, when your Pa was alive, and money was plenty. Look a-heah now ! " — and Dinah em- phasized her statement by rolling a handful of old gold guineas upon the table — " Dare now ; see dar ! Don't catch me foolin' away no money wid no banks and no stockholders. I keeps pretty tight grip o' mine. Tell you, 'fore I'd let dem gemmen hab my money I'd braid it up in my har — and den I'd know where 'twas when I wanted it." " Dinah, you dear old soul," said Miss Dorcas, with tears in her eyes, " you don't think we'd live on your money ?" " Dun no why you shouldn't, as well as me live on yourn," said Dinah. " It's all in de family, and turn about's fair play. Why, good land ! Miss Dorcas, I jest lotted on savin't up for de family. You can use mine and give it back agin when dat ar good time comes Massa Dick was allers a-tellin' about." Mrs. Betsey fell into Dinah's arms, and cried on her shoulder, declaring that she couldn't take a cent of her money, and that they were all ruined, and fell into what Dina^ used to call one of her " bad spells." So she swept her up i . Ler arms forth- with and carried her up-staii*s and put her to bed, amid furious dissentient barkings from Jack, who seemed to consider it his duty to express an opinion in the matter. "Dar now, ye aggrevatin' critter, lie down and shet up," she 9 M I i 370 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. J"d».C''£;t !:JS ™ Xfh ■"«' "" -" «'» -J- here. '"' '*™« "nd 'ay his rough cheek against *^"«d?rt'"oSatSsp:t':'.Y ^T^ -stress Iyi„g wft head of a h^bftyiT^tu^^' ?"!'«"' 'here had been thf them to her, "you iesThi.r''""^ ?"' '»""' "Jfops "nd Kivins Dorcas and'l, 'wC up'y? C^ «"n^, »> ^'"^y- S with Ev. '5^h"";Sr:At friLr" h^^y ^^ -™" of the way had b4n a ^Uef t' "er fe^ 'J" ":PI~»"« ""i' lonehness of her life circlo .„ j t i ? ** desolateness and of friendly reliancfthlt Se feU 1« '1;^',^"'" *» *^' <'''«>^ and ask advice. ' *" ""'■'d s^te her dilemma about it ; and if we have to 'leave at onr I ^"7, '""' "> ^ "Y,uZfrn„^°Xtrco^Lt^^'- you," --^ Eva. i"w"^dtr^tS"u^'' "^^ottZv^r- heJ^^n7tl^the%2o?:r^eifl""'?'"i, "'>>•' ^ «"«'» . "But, dear Miss Srci X S""*" " »" on one side." A bright thought strikesre for ho^" """"f ' *» *"^ couldn't you rent half nf jr) v .?"'<' " «> large ! Whv I'm surei oould S;arr.nSdffiT'' •?? A»» '^"^ of that, please." **"angea lor two families. Do think D^rcL" """^ ''^ •'""'^'f ^y^dr would want it ! » said Miss shrtte'ligt"clo1.dT„'''nT''*'' '■'''» »«'."«'id Eva, as Mu D_ 4 ^X1:r^r;l;rhrt;dktg:iS w him cud- leek against streas lying d been the i was now and giving »ey. Miss straight — to let you ' to sleep, to consult >osite side eness and at degree dilemma 'he house w to set >n't seem aid Eva. ir there, you go ; I can't reside." ee here. Why JI ; and o think id Miss ilva, as seizing cheer- THK UNPROTECTED FEMALE. 371 you 'ntl'dt 'rre'\rit': inf"''^- ^^T ^^"^ P-^— don't use. And In'thi fgreaf em^j: offi'^T \T"^ y^ dining-room all readv I anHf^f!- ^^ Y ^^^^ ^^^ here— a a coofiug Iv^afd^be SuedTn.n' \^r^ '^'^ '^^^ ^^^^^ have is perfect ; and there's you? in 'ol'^Sut '''^' ^'^^ '^^"^ See what it is to have real estate ?^ ^'"*^ "°^^"« * P«« '' brig^rd'hSnT^^^^^^^^^^ ^-king a little house is a great deal largrthan ^e^^^^^^^^^^^ ''''' ^.^« helpless about such matters. We are so nn/ Mu *"" ,5"'^^ know nothing of busin^sa • La] \l °"* ®^ ^^® ^o^ld. I and I haven! man rZis^l •-'"'' *«""^ "■* "^ horror; since left ou? house k t"?rear " ' ""* """■" *«" '»»« "Never mind that," said Eva " V™. .^ j , SirSin?^ the. .aybe„^irhb„u«^-r„a^t:'ont aa altoyhTelUwe Alice'h/;'— /fr'«' 'hemselves b<«inning,andt&utmo^t,n,H^ insisted on an economical hal been: what is M^Un^rr'" " "? P"™! »"<• *!>« K»ult would A," aTan ^U'tt dea" °^ ""' *" ">» ™»-^ «>«' ;?u?s?rm3eTLt!:ttSiv^i^^^^^^^ at once went into the work of Sf' • ®' t""^}^^ imagination dusky respectability wTthanSH°'°f "^ ^5^ ^^^M and and flowers, and neVbits 7fi,rn ' '"''k ""^ ^.^^'^^^ Just as she retu^ d'fj^i^'ht'su^^^^^^^^^ • , oue,™Iih'e"'?.iratvThrtlT;,:-^"''^\ - «"d im a boy that gets things when I see them. .; I 372 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. Now you don't often see an ivy so thrifty as this ami TVa brou^iit It to you to take care of till I find tLToom !" found riUt'tl, ?»: "I»>«"«vejustwhatyou want is to be fZ'ySf 'iTndXst Z.^^'^"^ "^' '^ '"-' - -" ^'^ — Ji^.^*^' ***® ^^^ Vanderheyden house? Thunder!" said "fhlZ'i- ^** """^ ""^^^^ «^*"' «^ ^«y« ^ho make free use of tMn^moL i"" ??°r'**'«°' without meaning to express an?- « fi7? rf ^^ '* *^*" * «*»*« «f «"ght surprise. Ou.r vl'. "P T"^ ' '??. «?^"^- " I should as soon expect &? J T *^ "^'^^ Buckingham Palace as that the old lad es across the way would come to letting rooms ! " Dorc^'s mXr.^ ^*"' '^°^'' ^^^ *»^- ^^ ^^'^ ^^ Miss mg bad. 1 11 go right over and rent the rooms : and I'll oav up square, too, and no mistake." ' ^^ " Shall I go with you ? " in 'a bwga^ '* ^^""^ *^** ^ °'^' '^'^'^ *'^ ^" *^* ^« "^«^«^ aaying!^'' "'''"'**"' "^'"^ "^^^ ** ^'' ^^ '"^ ^^""^^ ***" Miss Dorcas, Yni^^f r^''^'*^!^*'u'^''^^*"^ ^ ^^^ a suite of rooms. lou8ee,Imgomg to have a wife before long, and nothing mil suit her so wen as this neighbourhood. ?ow, if you wiS only rent us half of your house, we shall behave so 'beSfuX • ni-^ r."®^®'' ^^" ^^ ^"^^y y^^ took us in." ^ n... 1?"*'?* apologized for the rooms and furniture. They were old, she knew-not in modem style-but such as they were, wodd he just go through themi and Jim made the course with her. And the sho?t of the matter was, t^t the bargain was soon struck. * mw? «*»*«^ frankly the sum he felt able to pay for apart- h2 Jl t^ Mi88j)orcas the sum seemed ample enough to re- nfW ,1 l^"^^*"'*''^"^' *°<^ ^ *»» hour he returned to the other side, having completed the arrangement. An„f SJ'*' "^^-!^«''^o anchored, I think. The old folks and Aunt Mima have been wanting me to marry on and live with them m the old hive, but Jim^ doesn't put his foot intolhat THE UNPROTKCTED FEMALE. 373 trap if he knows it. My wife and I must have our own .estabhshment, if it's only in two rooms. Now it's all s^tS It Alhe hkes It. and I know she will. By George Wb Xk v Jut i That parlour will brighten up capitally."^ ' '"'''^ ^.onJ**" '^i^^'^,*)^™^^"'® ^» all the rage now," said Eva and you can buy things here and there as you wait.^ ' Yes, said Jim; "you know I did buy a pair of brass be just the things for the fireplace over there. Miss Dorriu, r T K ^?; '^t T"', «^ ^^^«« *hat belonged here/blsaTh^ that her brother had taken them to pieces to try some^xS ments m brass polishing, and never found time tj put theTt" Sether ^am, and so parts of them got lost. I told her it wa^ a special providence that I happeneS to have the very pa r that were needed there; and there's a splendid sunny wi„Tw for the mes on the south corner ! " ^ winaow tor Tirh wl""^^ furniture is lovely," said Eva. « It's like a dark, rich background to a picture. All your little bright modern things will show so well over it " ^ "loaern minute "'i'? r""^ u ^"°S ^"^" ^^'^^ ^ go over it, this minute, said Jim, who was not of the class that allow the grass to grow under their feet. ^^ Meanwhile, when little Mrs. Betsey came down to dinner 'mi 't'^^iV"''' .*"^ «^^^' «^i«i«g afte^ rain '' "What, Mr. Fellows "she exclaimed f " that dear good young man that was so i.^1 to Jack! Why, DorcrwK " Why, I'm sure," said Miss Dorcas, "your ereat fear thnf t^ L^Lr "P '"'^ ""''''' *'^"^' ^ WnKt f mant " Oh, well " said Mrs. Betsey, laughing cheerfuUy : " you know what I mean I mean the right kind of a mfn I've thought that those dreadful burglars !nd creatures S break into houses where there's old silver must find us out-because Dorcas really, that hat that we keep on the ent^table Tso big and dusty, and so different from what the/wei now thev must know that no man wears a hat like that/ I've always told Dinah that-she knows I have, more than twenty ttmeT'' 374 WB AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. 4i&^!^^^'t^^z^r''-'^ "^- Bin., „„ »ave. of triumphant merriZnl K i?'j""""g "id biilinK in venation of her mi.tre«S^r? , ''*'■"'<"•'<' scenes. Tlie con Po-e one to be eaeily^^l^r^ifS't^^e S?„f "' *"" *^- ' Dinah wa« end to it," th reflection. nan, too .' only think, and I don't 80 nice for i explosive » profound boiJing in The con- 'aily source to wink at sources of ' that she the inter- s listened r income and dig. EVA TO Harry's mother. 37.5 CHAI»TER L. KVA TO HAKRY'S MOTHKR. ■pVEAR MoTHEii : You've no idea how things have i?on« It 18 decreed that the wedding ,« +« u" mstory. Mr. St. John's little cLml and Lf «ft \r'"'"^ °"^' ^" mamma's, Jim will start Tfth Alle to'^I^hW T^.'^P"/* engaged a house in that part of the citv whpl Ik • ^- ^^^ 870 Wi: AND OUR NElOHBOUns. P^'^^^'^^rni:!^^^^^^^ Venice. Au. them to go into when they return ^ '^' ^""''^ *" '^^dy ^or r^Xl'nT^^^^^^^ -i^. I^- •• The fact i, letters to me have g^wi short and In? ^'"^ ""^ ^'^'^^^^^ ^e; to him long and coSetanrand the effi" Th' '' ff'^i!'' ^«^^" cal. I have never seen h m in supH l^i ^'" ^^ **««» magi- of morbid depression that he used to hlv'^'"*"- ^^'''' ^»^"« away gradually. He has b^en with .. ^^^' '^T '« ^« *'«'^ing mo8t as if he m-re a member of inr f '^ "»"«^that I feel al- feel that our home h^Teen^ «h u *"'>' *"^ ^ ««"not but What would it be to haveThapnvtne oTh ' ' '''^"«^^ *<> »'*'"• he deserves it, if ever kindness L««?f5u " ^''"J ^ *»» «»re ness of heart deserved it and T T^ o ^^f' ""^ ^'•»« "oble- enoughand strong enougi; to giveTim"w ^J!' ^*'°""« '« ^«« needs. ® ^ ** ''" «f^''® "»"» JUst the support that he seent^whrhe^S^^^^^^ '^ '^^^ ' have W fore- she had many hes tatbt Lt « J S«'^""^l.^r' *"^ though and only think how nTce 'it^is »^h^! ' ^'J^^'^}^ H^V >» it ; Vanderheyden house o;posL to Sfs^th"/*'^' *'''^' *^^ "^^ lightsofeach other's hearths ^rnVf' ^^^ "^^ <»» see the Mother doesn't" sSf sT^u^brhf cn''^^^ "^"^^-«- and^y home was throwing out TmX'^^a^A'l 1^ An'^f alts': tentt^i Teli ^'^"p'r ^^ -^ Alice, We shall be a guild orhlreh^etVhddV"' ^^^^""^• tions, walk by the same ruIpTnJ' • j^T ^^^ «*™e tradi- Won't it be lovely? What nir^ '«/ ^'^ ^^^ «*"»« things, and tea-drinkingsVnd InsuSJ I'^PPiITJ" *»^ ^"itings not merely having good t^^«iif\ ^ t^*" h*^«' And it ig think of itfthe moTef tl'S^^atw oft T.*\"' '^' "^«'« ^ the best way of helping orthe world th„t^^ ^""^^^ ^^' '« yet. A fume is ^ thin| that cL> hi f '^ ^^ ^®®" discovered at least the kind of home we are ht t'" ""S ' ?^" ««^^ ^^o^e- all sides and helps an? sheLrs and "^ f\ '^ ''^'^'^ «"<^ on my little experiment of a few monThl ""k"'" ^'h«'«- Even I Wthat^gie-s and^^rrh-nt ll^re^S^^Lt^m^Ji^ EVA TO HARRY'S MOTHKR. '<^e- Aunt I ready for 'he fact 18, roline, her lier letters •een magi- 1086 turns be fading I feel al- innot but ' to him. '■ am sure Lie noble- e is wise ^ that he >ng fore- l though >y in it ; the old see the indows. >y, free- I a lilac I Alice, proline. I tradi- tihings. sitings it is norel wwsis vered one — •uton Even - and more »77 so than OUI8. Angle was born to be a r«ct«ir« wife ■ to J.ftv« - kind word and a kind smile and a good S fW oveVvbor^^^^ love everybody dearly, and ke<,p evfr bright and in go/dspfrite Itisamazmg to see the change she has wrought KtTohn' He was fast getting into a sort of stringent, morbid Lcetici^n- rZi"-*' V^'^'T^' «« ««'»*•' «»'i Bo^ntorTai ZTe Tshke' tn eve^^nu"*^' '" ^""'"« '"' "^'^ «*»««»-- anicolumb/ne: As to Jim and Alice you ought to see how happy thev are Z vln^T''^""'^'^" arrangements of their Sure ho?ne in the Vanderheyden House. And the bflut nf it ;„.""'"" how perfectly delighted the two oH adies are to have 'h^m there \ou must know that there was a sudden fISuren M^ Dorcas's income which would have maSTeTnecSrv o sell the house had it not been for just this arrangement But cYivr.u" nr '"' '"' '^'^"^ '' ^« '' the^Tereabout to receive guests; and every improvement and every additional touch of brightness to the rooms seems to please thL as iTch as ^they wsre going to be married themselves. Miss Dorcas said to me that our coming to live in th«ir Tv^^f h^r.^""^ ^'^.^''' *^« «^«**««* blessfng to them thai them ^^i'P^"«^^^^y«*™-thatithad opened a new lifelo toml*^fdf^h\nWKTn'!/^'^ **'^«™^"g *'«al «o»fort w> me. 1 do think that all the poor girl's sorrows and Riiffi»r l,.?f fii""" ^^ ^'y T^"^ '° "■« ""Jden hurry of work that has folleu npon us, and seems really delighted to be so In „,?, group of famili^ Maggie will alwiysfin^ frienis aLo^iU au" iTthink I-str lenrr *"*" '''' '^"' ""''^"^^^^ went aftirXr' %C ^ ^'"f"} ""^K" ' -""^ 'ho "^Sbt I went alter Her. They have sunk deep nto my heart ■ and I PoTonife 'I^ J'' """ clearly the Lpest and nobkstpur poM ot hte, 80 as never again to forget it selm » mv'iZH fv'"""^ ""'» '^'^ ^"^ «»<» Wtter them- .„ u., .^e^, nour. i am conaulter, sympathiier and ad- 378 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. Your loving Eva. THE HOUR AND THE WOMAN. 379 imming 1 talk to days fly time to Eva. CHAPTER LI. THE HOUK AND THE WOMAN. IT is said that Queen Elizabeth could converse in five lan- guages, and dictate to three secretaries at once, in differ- ent tongues, with the greatest ease and composure. Perhaps it might have been so— let us not quarrel with her laurels ; it only shows what women can do if they set about it and ^ not a whit more remarkable than Aunt Maria's trium- pha.., management of all the details of two weddings at one tmie. That estimable individual has not, we fear, alw&ys appeared to advantage in this history, and it is due to her own to say that nobody that saw her proceedings could help feeling the beauty of the right person in the right place. Many a persor. is held to be a pest and a nuisance because there isn t enough to be done to use up his capabUities. Aunt Mana had a passion for superintending and directing and all that waa wanting to bring things right was an occasion when • good deal of superintendence and direction was wanting The double wedding in the famUy just fulfilled all the con- ditions. It now opened a field to her that everybody was more than thankful to have her occupy. Lovers, we all know, are, ex^fficio, ranked among the incap- ables ; and if, while they were mooning round in the fairy-land ot sentiment, some good strong, active, practical head werenotat work upon the details of real life, nothing would be on time at the wedding. Now, if this be true of one wedding, how much more of two ! So Aunt Maria stepped at once into command by acclamation, and addressed herself to her work as a strong man to run a race; ^nd whUe Angie and St. John spent blia^ tui hours m the back parlour, and Jim and /'!ice monopolised thel ibrwy, Aunt Mana flew all over New York, and airanffed about all the towels and table-cloths and napkins and doiUes down to the very dish-cloths. She overlooked armies of sewing d80 WE AND OUR NEIQHBOUKS. women milliners and mantua-makers— the most slipperv of all mortal creatures-and drove them all up to have eaSer quoam ime. She with Mrs. Van Arsdel, made Usts of peo- ple to be invited, and busied herself with getting samples Snd terms from fancy stationers for the wedding card"^ Slanned m advance all the details of the wedding^ feast and envied the cake and fruit and ice-cream. engugea cribs'!'" '*''* '^^ *■«'■««* <^^« «o«ial and society exigencies of the in fi!i? ^^"'^V'^^' ^'^'^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^«s*' *o <^e Mrs. Van Arsdel in full panoply to return the call of Mrs. Dr. Gracey who had come promptly and properly, with the doctor to recLTse^^^^ Angehqueand fehcitate^about theengagementof their nep^w She arranged for a dinner party to be given by Mrs Cn ft^lv' n-^'"' *he doctor and his lady were to be received ^to ote^m Tunt m1^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^ consideration accorded Mr. n; P. ?^ ^""^ occasion, in private converse with respecfforMrli' *." .T''. ^' "^ij^"^ ^^^^ S'^** esteem and respect tor Mr. bt. John, and her perfect conviction that he was on the nght road now, and that, though he might possiblvbuni a few more candles in his chapel, yet, wheS he came full v under famUy influences, they would^gmdually be snXd oit^ -"-intimating that she intended to be aunt, not^onhr?" Arthur but to his chapel and his mission-work. ^ ' vn„„^^^-''-'''*''w°*'^ *°^ «®'«"« meekness with which that young dmne left every question of form and etiqurtte to W S^r.T°*i', ?"^ *^? ''^ «^ ^"^^^ humiKVwith which he dSvhai ^'' '""."^' "^"* *^ arrangem^ents of^he wed^ hbictL^f/"/?''!^" mind such hopeHf It k tS thi *? *^T ""^'y '^'^S''^"^ anticipations. ^ ID 18 true that, when it came to the Question of v^nti^^ « W she found him quietly butunaltejr^ronasmdffi rfe wtk l!!~°" """" •■■'f'^hionable.e^ghbourho™ whT^ "Arthur is going on with his miasion," said Anselioue "«n,l ^^r'^ltto^'rsirtZ^j^^^^^^ THE HOUR AND THE WOMAN. 381 of the i " Of course, Mrs. Gracey," she said " we all feel that if dear Dr. l:Tracey is to conduct the wedding services, everything will be in the good old way; there'll be nothing objectionable or unusual. " Dh, you may rely on that, Mrs. Wouvermans," replied the lady. " The doctor is not the man to run after novelties ; he's a good old-fashioned Episcopalian. Though he always has been very indulgent to Arthur, he thinks, as our dear bishop does, that if young men are left to themselves, and not fretted by opposition, they will gradually outgrow these things." " Precisely so," said Aunt Maria ; "just what I have always thought. For my part I always said that it was safe to trust the bishop." I^id Aunt Maria believe this 1 She certainly appeared to. She sincerely supposed that this was what she always had thought and said, and quite forgot the times when she used to wonder " v/hat our bishop could be thinking of, to let things go so." ® It was one blessed faculty of this remarkable woman that she generally came to the full conviction of the axiom that "whatever is, is right," and took up and patronized anything that would succeed in spite of her best efforts to prevent it. So, in announcing the double wedding to her fashionable acquaintance, she placed everything, as the popular saving is best foot foremost. ^ 6 » Mr. Fellows was a young man of fine talents, great industry and elegant manners, a great favourite in society, and likely to take the highest rank in his profession. Alice had refused richer offers— she might perhaps have done better in a worldly point of view, but it was purely a love match, &c., &c. And Mr. St. John, a young man of fine family and independent fortune, who might command all the elegancies of life, was going to live in a distant and obscure quarter, to labour in his work. These facts brought forth, of course, bursts of sympathy and congratu- lation, and Aunt Maria went off on the top of the wave. Eva had but done her aunt justice when she told her mother that Aunt Maria would be all the more amiable for the firm stand which the young wife had taken against any interference with her family matters. It was so. Aunt Maria was as balmy to Eva as if that discussion had never taken place, though it 382 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. must be admitted that Eva was a verv HiffS..,!. "P a long quarrel with ^ "^'^"'^ P^^'so" ^ keep feefli}eti??aj\t"^^^^^^ -here at her she knew where'ever^tSl 'vt'and ^t'trb? T'^' ^^^ thing was to be done she wasV^^, n . ^®,' *"<* ^^en every- She was the spirit of the wholTjf ^T t^ *" ^ ""'^"^^^We. joyously whenaU the calC at thi' Jnf '^' jPlumed herself Arsdel, " Dear me ! what would Io^tLT-! '*'^ ^ ^'^- ^an sister? " ^ ^^^^^ y^^ aO' if It were not for your Verily she had her reward. eva's consultations. 383 keep her rhen ery- kble. rself Van our CHAPTER LII. EVA'S CONSULTATIONS. " 1\I ^^ ^^^ .^®?'" ^^^^ '^^"*' ^^"^^"S i" upon Eva as she sat .1\ alone m her parlour, "I've got something on mv mind I want to talk with you about. You see, Alice and I are to be married at the same time with Angie and St. John." •* es, X see it. " Well, now, what I want to say is, that I really hope there won t be anything longer and harder and more circumlocutory to be got through with on the occasion than just what's in the prayer-book for that's all I can stand. I can't stand prayer- book with the variations, now I really can't." "Well, Jim, what makes you think there will be prayer- book with the variations ? " ^ ' " ^h, well, I attended a ritualistic wedding once, and there was such an amount of processing and chanting, and ancient and modern improvements, that it was just like a show. There were the press reporters elbowing and pushing to get the best places to wnte It up for the papers, and, for my part, I think it s in confounded bad taste, and I couldn't stand it ; you know now, Im a nervous fellow, and if Fve got to take part in the' exercises, they'll have to 'draw it mild,' or Allie and I will have to secede and take it by ourselves. I cmldn't go such a «lif 11 T* we de»r «' And nnw^ t' "^! ^ "^^1 ^^-^ ^'"^ * ^^™ mUliner," said Eva. And now I want to ask a favour. Do you thiik it would ^0 for us to take ojar Dinah to church toTe £e ceremony sVfrpirur::?^'^ *'^^ ^^"^^ ^^^'^^ ^^--^ -<^ i>-h"i time^te'" W^hv ^T^ •' "^^ ^*^'^^"^ "^^^««^ *"d help in anTtell h«r T «h 11 J' '•^j'^^^^' g»^e my compliments to her, and tell her I shall depend on seeing her there." Mr FeUows Ztt^^.^'v^^'^^^^^' '^^' your sister and i^L are com ng to live with us, she is busy cleaning their rooms, and does it with a will. You know Mr FeHow! has just that gay, pleasant sort of way that ddiSite a^^^^^^^^ 'T*^*^,'?^ '^^ «*y« yo'^r «i«ter is such a beauty .^' Well, be sure and tell Dinah to come to the weddine and she shall have a slice of the cake to dream on." ^' ^ th^ i n ^ ^^^" ^^'^K^ "*»*ch safer when we have a rmn in the house," continued Mrs. Betsey. « You see we h^e so much silver, and so many things of that kind Ind Dorc^ fnghtens me to death, because she will have Se basket kS up into our room at night. I tell her if she'd ^/yset t ^ut nffi;?/>' '-i^' '^^^ ^-'^^ ^^'^^g^^^ '^^^ tW cLTd just go ronr wh ' ""f*^"^"* '*T^"S *^ ^"'^«' »« > but if it w J in our room, why, of course, they would. The fa^t is, I have eot so tTmT/ntht/' ''"''''' '^""^ ^"' '^^^ ^ '' "^^^^^^^^^ " But you have Jack to take care of you " i« h. wl' * ^T^ Y**5^ dog-he's very alert ; but the trouble IS, he barks just as loud when there isn't anything going on as 386 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOURS. the doors or windows. Altoffethfir T flimt t„!.i <• • i!! ^^V^^S more than he helps, thouglXt' hVts til KhTLT and I tell Dorcas so when he wakes her ud yI L^^ . ' y2ngV:,f^;;'rr' ^™- " Why Wouldn't we .11 ,„„k ^ " I haven't worn it for more than thirty years • but f Hp dit ^th'an *' 'T' f"^ ?T ""^« «« thinkin. of thinking it would make mv „ jj- "^ 'V" I was ; but I wm thw heaped upon me." ^ ^ **■" than to have all «mplSty^hri»&^ tX^^'lr'alt'*'" ST »' '"'" and to the poor. ' "S^ ^®*^® always celebrated by gifts arl'^rA^^^^^^^ poor, little, nale day and night over mv thW« o ,? t ^""'^ "^^'-she has worked something I, brighteTherSf ?h J '^"''^u^^^P wanting todo and no holidays f no W Zcnt ^^a ""^^^^^^ ^''^ ^ard work and take her to Europe IndT *"? ^^ ^^' Pretty thinJf take care of--only tWnk ' k1 if'u'^^ ^^ * «ck mother to ^^^ trying to sav^ enough to gltl^Lt? '"^^ T' «"« <^S ^^'^htjr^"--*^^^^^^ wan^an&bl^f^^^^^^^^^ Poor families, whose a wedding gift was dev Led to TL,"?"^'^ 't '^.^^^^ '^*>' *nd there are people who may belLe f hlfi V^^ *»^ ^^^^"^ i and mg of these last deeds olloveZtV^^. devising and execut pleasure than all the sHver aS 1 ^°r *"*^ ^^' ^o^n more bazaar. ""^^'^ ^^d jewellery in the wedding le girls of die-book, I't know, e it ! It nake me itest and iossed to iking of. ink per- it 1 was gifts to ^ave all ith and >y gifts e, pale ''orked [ to do work ;hing8, her to y, she ' one, ath a him, islat- and and icut- lore ling ^ WEDDING PRESENTS. 3^j) .f fhl*'*''^ ''^'^''y,*''' ^ f '"'« ^°' «"' Sunday-school to be present at the ceremony," sad Arthur • "anri fLr^ i„ ♦ u P^®*®"^ little oollation faid for thim in ' mj "tudy "„d ^eLtJ^,?. there a few mi„ ^es after the ceremony.L sh„w oSvS to ""Arthur 1!?? «°°?,''^ •?'»■? "» 8° '» you^moThe^?. '" we .i^S^t "«»<=% What I was thinking of. I believe we think the same things a ways Now I w.m t„ .. .f'*^ " Well, darling f' fhaw ®"' ^ ^J*7-® *°^? ^""^ Maria and mamma and all of them toSThltT^^^^^^ T. -^«-«^»^i"g I meant to ke?p to mysen , that I would not have it put on the table or shown SsS' ltmstoMi''tf''^ '" '"/first plaoeT;mat7o"f thinj «JJed tetVee„"us"tw„ " """™"'" «"' ""«"' '" •"> '•"^^■ prSt*" itTiuZ "^ f""^ ■""""' •^"itm'rn't i S; Sance to vL^ji " P'«"J,8\"» ">« that I shall not be a hin- diirjruii-^aiire'brthretr^^^^^^^^ Phu. usual sen.iee onKSye-^LrwiJltTnV^^.t pm'vtet'?' ''"" "'^' '"'' ''""°ei this, undoubtedly, is y„„r thellt"'i;l,t^^/A^u'JS' '"^ r "W things in interest to ~ HkeTor^'^ii„tthtl,^l^,':'{^- e V a t i) 390 W« AND OUIl NEIOHBOUHS. -dip„tlttrU:3'',t'lfr •" '"1^ "'- »- give offence to any one." ''''"'*'"'^' «'»«» '»»vo nothing in it to " Sometimes I thinlc " juU a "p, for l„vo', sake, litu; th" tf^l mmV'''" '* ?»'' '>>'¥ '^'"8 vice, more thai, by worship"*' '' '""" ''" ''" "' H« ser- mon ate' by'"aPf^'^\tr " '""« '!«'■■ ^^« -" talk "Other will be\coldi„ryt; Z,.T' "Kl't'-or your Somehow, the „„e doe, afipLLyT^I.e'^^U'^^, Z^tl^'' J0UH8.* ' lers, especially of ,loar «»« ; at any rate, our 1 Imve nothing in it to yjl^iieGodbygivini? 'iKe , -lo in His ser rt^ach. We will talk JocI night I—or your tor sitting up l«te. »n vve get to talking." MAHltrKD AND A*. 31)1 cHAi vm uv. MARKUi.t VND A'. T 1 /"ELL, thoday of days came at lunt ... i scented bu^^^^ -I been mg maid, of one bride, and Eva tf S^^^' ^'J^IJ^^' '^^ ^^-^f^- usual amount of catastrophes -laces Wl?\ ^'*"'- •^^''^ ^^« ments, when somebody ha fn h \. •'*'^*^ *" ^"tical mo- for another; gloTeXt^Vt'^^^^^^^^^^^^ out distractedly fures that came abominably latr i^vL • ""' ^'^^''^ ' ^^i^" shok;7oVn;ittof'tUS^^^^ ^lent to a wed^iing, was misslnf ^""''''' "^ '^^"^^^^i^"^' inci- 392 WE AND OUR NEIGHBOUBS. il h e ii P h of Iwtettf Sd rSt7ott'. '?"^^«' -^ -- ^ bower reservedfor the Sd^y-s^^^^^^^^ ^^ere was space unt8 of the mission ^ ^^'^^'^'' *°^ *'»« regular attend- M^^^M^n^:!:i\^^^^ «f ^* «h- of what Aunt Dr. Gracey peXmed t^ InlT'^' ^^ '^"^ *"^ f««hion. nity and solemnly bn^ fif/''"^^^ ceremony with great dig- places to see thL stW and MiJT'tf ''' ^^", ^"ght for go?d disappointed. There wC„?Jthe^^^^^^^^ ^^t^'' ^"P°^«' ^^'^ ««rvice---„either less n^ S ^ ''" '^^ ^^"'^^ ^^ England degrees If^amnylt'^^^^^^^^^^ ^-^-' - different weeping upon their Eacpd'nniJl ^''T'' *°^o"»t of tender body sal^L brSL lltte^^^^^^ ^ -^ -«^- the ."ohS DL'^^strnS'^'.f.^f ^"^ «^^-^-- to see intoejacukionUJsmo^^^^^^^^ '^'^' broke out Betsey's ear. Dinah wL so hoiffiL' from t, to time, in Mrs. this tolerated escaplX tfeiS '^''' but for Just as the ceremoS^tl^SS^Jj'^^i^^^^ome explosion, whispering hoarsely ' ^''' ^^y beard Di^ah " Good lor'! if dar ain't Jack f» ■ co4ted?rrvtt^^^^^^^ ^" ^^« ^burch, sitting up as acle.^ WhL one of tKsWs a««^^^^^^^ '^' '^'"^ raised up on his hmncV^T/^^^T^^^^ *" take him out, he Jim caught sLhtThSl^tl^^^^^^ ^'7."7 ^^*b affability ing from the altrto lea^^ ^hfl\'''^11P*^*y ^^'^ ^u/n- gether too much for lirrisibility ' '"^ '^' ''^^' ™ ^^^o- siontfan^Sbtl^^^^^^^^ u'pThlt^ ^^J-* ^f great discus- an intention on thTpart of hi mi«? ^V"^' ^"^ ^^^^^^S had determined no? to Te lefr S^ f« b'Tf *' ? ^o'^^where, hf upon a back shed, and thent t he'S and t^^^^^ end of a story, and we hav^ i^^ ^^ common consent the THE END. ind was a bower there was space i regular attend- r of what Auut ■ and fashion, with great dig- ought for good ss v apors, were rch of England ies, in different ount of tender ^fs ; and every- tuations to see >em, broke out io time, in Mrs. ht that, but for ome explosion. 7 heard Dinah I, sitting up as ing the spect- e him out, he th affability, ty were turn- ght was alto- great discus- But divining me^where, he ' of a window had followed he death." 1 consent the We and Our [• congratular