The Crisis — Volume 02

by Winston Churchill

  CHAPTER XII

  "MISS JINNY"

  The years have sped indeed since that gray December when Miss VirginiaCarvel became eighteen. Old St. Louis has changed from a pleasantSouthern town to a bustling city, and a high building stands on the siteof that wide and hospitable home of Colonel Carvel. And the Colonel'sthoughts that morning, as Ned shaved him, flew back through the years toa gently rolling Kentucky countryside, and a pillared white house amongthe oaks. He was riding again with Beatrice Colfax in the springtime.Again he stretched out his arm as if to seize her bridle-hand, and hefelt the thoroughbred rear. Then the vision faded, and the memory of hisdead wife became an angel's face, far--so far away.

  He had brought her to St. Louis, and with his inheritance had founded hisbusiness, and built the great double house on the corner. The child came,and was named after the noble state which had given so many of her sonsto the service of the Republic.

  Five simple, happy years--then war. A black war of conquest which, likemany such, was to add to the nation's fame and greatness: Glory beckoned,honor called--or Comyn Carvel felt them. With nothing of the professionof arms save that born in the Carvels, he kissed Beatrice farewell andsteamed down the Mississippi, a captain in Missouri regiment. The youngwife was ailing. Anguish killed her. Had Comyn Carvel been selfish?

  Ned, as he shaved his master's face, read his thoughts by the strangesympathy of love. He had heard the last pitiful words of his mistress.Had listened, choking, to Dr. Posthlewaite as he read the sublime serviceof the burial of the dead. It was Ned who had met his master, theColonel, at the levee, and had fallen sobbing at his feet.

  Long after he was shaved that morning, the Colonel sat rapt in his chair,while the faithful servant busied himself about the room, one eye on hismaster the while. But presently Mr. Carvel's revery is broken by theswift rustle of a dress, and a girlish figure flutters in and plantsitself on the wide arm of his mahogany barber chair, Mammy Easter in thedoor behind her. And the Colonel, stretching forth his hands, strains herto him, and then holds her away that he may look and look again into herface.

  "Honey," he said, "I was thinking of your mother."

  Virginia raised her eyes to the painting on the wall over the marblemantel. The face under the heavy coils of brown hair was sweet andgentle, delicately feminine. It had an expression of sorrow that seemed aprophecy.

  The Colonel's hand strayed upward to Virginia's head.

  "You are not like her, honey," he said: "You may see for yourself. Youare more like your Aunt Bess, who lived in Baltimore, and she--"

  "I know," said Virginia, "she was the image of the beauty, DorothyManners, who married my great-grandfather."

  "Yes, Jinny," replied the Colonel, smiling. "That is so. You are somewhatlike your great-grandmother."

  "Somewhat!" cried Virginia, putting her hand over his mouth, "I likethat. You and Captain Lige are always afraid of turning my head. I neednot be a beauty to resemble her. I know that I am like her. When you tookme on to Calvert House to see Uncle Daniel that time, I remember thepicture by, by--"

  "Sir Joshua Reynolds."

  "Yes, Sir Joshua."

  "You were only eleven," says the Colonel.

  "She is not a difficult person to remember."

  "No," said Mr. Carvel, laughing, "especially if you have lived with her."

  "Not that I wish to be that kind," said Virginia, meditatively,--"to takeLondon by storm, and keep a man dangling for years."

  "But he got her in the end," said the Colonel. "Where did you hear allthis?" he asked.

  "Uncle Daniel told me. He has Richard Carvel's diary."

  "And a very honorable record it is," exclaimed the Colonel. "Jinny, weshall read it together when we go a-visiting to Culvert House. I rememberthe old gentleman as well as if I had seen him yesterday."

  Virginia appeared thoughtful.

  "Pa," she began, "Pa, did you ever see the pearls Dorothy Carvel wore onher wedding day? What makes you jump like that? Did you ever see them?"

  "Well, I reckon I did," replied the Colonel, gazing at her steadfastly.

  "Pa, Uncle Daniel told me that I was to have that necklace when I was oldenough."

  "Law!" said the Colonel, fidgeting, "your Uncle Daniel was just foolingyou."

  "He's a bachelor," said Virginia; what use has he got for it?"

  "Why," says the Colonel, "he's a young man yet, your uncle, onlyfifty-three. I've known older fools than he to go and do it. Eh, Ned?"

  "Yes, marsa. Yes, suh. I've seed 'em at seventy, an' shufflin' aboutpeart as Marse Clarence's gamecocks. Why, dar was old Marse Ludlow--"

  "Now, Mister Johnson," Virginia put in severely, "no more about oldLudlow."

  Ned grinned from ear to ear, and in the ecstasy of his delight droppedthe Colonel's clothes-brush. "Lan' sakes!" he cried, "ef she ain'trecommembered." Recovering his gravity and the brush simultaneously, hemade Virginia a low bow. "Mornin', Miss Jinny. I sholy is gwinter s'luteyou dis day. May de good Lawd make you happy, Miss Jinny, an' give you agood husban'--"

  "Thank you, Mister Johnson, thank you," said Virginia, blushing.

  "How come she recommembered, Marse Comyn? Dat's de quality. Dat's why.Doan't you talk to Ned 'bout de quality, Marsa."

  "And when did I ever talk to you about the quality, you scalawag?" asksthe Colonel, laughing.

  "Th' ain't none 'cept de bes' quality keep they word dat-a-way," saidNed, as he went off to tell Uncle Ben in the kitchen.

  Was there ever, in all this wide country, a good cook who was not atyrant? Uncle Ben Carvel was a veritable emperor in his own domain; andthe Colonel himself, had he desired to enter the kitchen, would have beenobliged to come with humble and submissive spirit. As for Virginia, shehad had since childhood more than one passage at arms with Uncle Ben. Andthe question of who had come off victorious had been the subject of manya debate below stairs.

  There were a few days in the year, however, when Uncle Ben permitted thesanctity of his territory to be violated. One was the seventh ofDecember. On such a day it was his habit to retire to the broken chairbeside the sink (the chair to which he had clung for five-and-twentyyears). There he would sit, blinking, and carrying on the while anundercurrent of protests and rumblings, while Miss Virginia and otheryoung ladies mixed and chopped and boiled and baked and gossiped. But woeto the unfortunate Rosetta if she overstepped the bounds of respect! Woeto Ned or Jackson or Tato, if they came an inch over the threshold fromthe hall beyond! Even Aunt Easter stepped gingerly, though she was wontto affirm, when assisting Miss Jinny in her toilet, an absolute contemptfor Ben's commands.

  "So Ben ordered you out, Mammy?" Virginia would say mischievously.

  "Order me out! Hugh! think I'se skeered o' him, honey? Reckon I'd frail'em good ef he cotched hole of me with his black hands. Jes' let him tryto come upstairs once, honey, an' see what I say to 'm."

  Nevertheless Ben had, on one never-to-be-forgotten occasion, orderedMammy Easter out, and she had gone. And now, as she was working the beatbiscuits to be baked that evening, Uncle Ben's eye rested on her withsuspicion.

  What mere man may write with any confidence of the delicacies which wereprepared in Uncle's kitchen that morning? No need in those days ofcooking schools. What Southern lady, to the manner born, is not a cookfrom the cradle? Even Ben noted with approval Miss Virginia's scorn forpecks and pints, and grunted with satisfaction over the accurate pinchesof spices and flavors which she used. And he did Miss Eugenie the honorto eat one of her praleens.

  That night came Captain Lige Brent, the figure of an eager and determinedman swinging up the street, and pulling out his watch under everylamp-post. And in his haste, in the darkness of a midblock, he ran intoanother solid body clad in high boots and an old army overcoat, beside awood wagon.

  "Howdy, Captain," said he of the high boots.

  "Well, I just thought as much," was the energetic reply; "minute I seenthe rig I knew Captain Grant was behind it."

  He held out a big hand, which Ca
ptain Grant clasped, just looking at hisown with a smile. The stranger was Captain Elijah Brent of the'Louisiana'.

  "Now," said Brent, "I'll just bet a full cargo that you're off to thePlanters' House, and smoke an El Sol with the boys."

  Mr. Grant nodded. "You're keen, Captain," said he.

  "I've got something here that'll outlast an El Sol a whole day,"continued Captain Breast, tugging at his pocket and pulling out asix-inch cigar as black as the night. "Just you try that."

  The Captain instantly struck a match on his boot and was puffing in asilent enjoyment which delighted his friend.

  "Reckon he don't bring out cigars when you make him a call," said thesteamboat captain, jerking his thumb up at the house. It was Mr. JacobCluyme's.

  Captain Grant did not reply to that, nor did Captain Lige expect him to,as it was the custom of this strange and silent man to speak ill of noone. He turned rather to put the stakes back into his wagon.

  "Where are you off to, Lige?" he asked.

  "Lord bless my soul," said Captain Lige, "to think that I could forget!"He tucked a bundle tighter under his arm. "Grant, did you ever see mylittle sweetheart, Jinny Carvel?" The Captain sighed. "She ain't littleany more, and she eighteen to-day."

  Captain Grant clapped his hand to his forehead.

  "Say, Lige," said he, "that reminds me. A month or so ago I pulled afellow out of Renault's area across from there. First I thought he was athief. After he got away I saw the Colonel and his daughter in thewindow."

  Instantly Captain Lige became excited, and seized Captain Grant by thecape of his overcoat.

  "Say, Grant, what kind of appearing fellow was he?"

  "Short, thick-set, blocky face."

  "I reckon I know," said Breast, bringing down his fist on the wagonboard; "I've had my eye on him for some little time."

  He walked around the block twice after Captain Grant had driven down themuddy street, before he composed himself to enter the Carvel mansion. Hepaid no attention to the salutations of Jackson, the butler, who saw himcoming and opened the door, but climbed the stairs to the sitting-room.

  "Why, Captain Lige, you must have put wings on the Louisiana," saidVirginia, rising joyfully from the arm of her father's chair to meet him."We had given you up."

  "What?" cried the Captain. "Give me up? Don't you know better than that?What, give me up when I never missed a birthday,--and this the best ofall of 'em.

  "If your pa had got sight of me shovin' in wood and cussin' the pilot forslowin' at the crossin's, he'd never let you ride in my boat again. BillJenks said: 'Are you plum crazy, Brent? Look at them cressets.' 'Fivedollars'' says I; 'wouldn't go in for five hundred. To-morrow's JinnyCarvel's birthday, and I've just got to be there.' I reckon the time'scome when I've got to say Miss Jinny," he added ruefully.

  The Colonel rose, laughing, and hit the Captain on the back.

  "Drat you, Lige, why don't you kiss the girl? Can't you see she'swaiting?"

  The honest Captain stole one glance at Virginia, and turned red coppercolor.

  "Shucks, Colonel, I can't be kissing her always. What'll her husbandsay?"

  For an instant Mr. Carvel's brow clouded.

  "We'll not talk of husbands yet awhile, Lige."

  Virginia went up to Captain Lige, deftly twisted into shape his blacktie, and kissed him on the check. How his face burned when she touchedhim.

  "There!" said she, "and don't you ever dare to treat me as a young lady.Why, Pa, he's blushing like a girl. I know. He's ashamed to kiss me now.He's going to be married at last to that Creole girl in New Orleans."

  The Colonel slapped his knee, winked slyly at Lige, while Virginia beganto sing:

  "I built me a house on the mountain so high, To gaze at my true love as she do go by."

  "There's only one I'd ever marry, Jinny," protested the Captain, soberly,"and I'm a heap too old for her. But I've seen a youngster that mightmate with her, Colonel," he added mischievously. "If he just wasn't aYankee. Jinny, what's the story I hear about Judge Whipple's young manbuying Hester?"

  Mr. Carvel looked uneasy. It was Virginia's turn to blush, and she grewred as a peony.

  "He's a tall, hateful, Black Republican Yankee!" she said.

  "Phee-ew!" whistled the Captain. "Any more epithets?"

  "He's a nasty Abolitionist!"

  "There you do him wrong, honey," the Colonel put in.

  "I hear he took Hester to Miss Crane's," the Captain continued, fillingthe room with his hearty laughter. "That boy has sand enough, Jinny; I'dlike to know him."

  "You'll have that priceless opportunity to-night," retorted MissVirginia, as she flung herself out of the room. "Pa has made me invitehim to my party."

  "Here, Jinny! Hold on!" cried the Captain, running after her. "I've gotsomething for you."

  She stopped on the stairs, hesitating. Whereupon the Captain hastilyripped open the bundle under his arm and produced a very handsome Indiashawl. With a cry of delight Virginia threw it over her shoulders and ranto the long glass between the high windows.

  "Who spoils her, Lige?" asked the Colonel, fondly.

  "Her father, I reckon," was the prompt reply.

  "Who spoils you, Jinny?"

  "Captain Lige," said she, turning to him. "If you had only kept thepresents you have brought me from New Orleans, you might sell out yoursteamboat and be a rich man."

  "He is a rich man," said the Colonel, promptly. "Did you ever missbringing her a present, Lige?" he asked.

  "When the Cora Anderson burnt," answered the Captain.

  "Why," cried Virginia, "you brought me a piece of her wheel, with thechar on it. You swam ashore with it."

  "So I did," said Captain Brent. "I had forgotten that. It was when theFrench dress, with the furbelows, which Madame Pitou had gotten me fromParis for you, was lost."

  "And I think I liked the piece of wheel better," says Virginia. "It wasbrought me by a brave man, the last to leave his boat."

  "And who should be the last to leave, but the captain? I saw the thing inthe water; and I just thought we ought to have a relic."

  "Lige," said the Colonel, putting up his feet, "do you remember theFrench toys you used to bring up here from New Orleans?"

  "Colonel," replied Brent, "do you recall the rough and uncouth youngcitizen who came over here from Cincinnati, as clerk on the Vicksburg?"

  "I remember, sir, that he was so promising that they made him provisionalcaptain the next trip, and he was not yet twenty-four years of age."

  "And do you remember buying the Vicksburg at the sheriff's sale fortwenty thousand dollars, and handing her over to young Brent, and saying,'There, my son, she's your boat, and you can pay for her when you like'?"

  "Shucks, Brent!" said Mr. Carvel, sternly, "your memory's too good. But Iproved myself a good business man, Jinny; he paid for her in a year."

  "You don't mean that you made him pay you for the boat?" cried Jinny."Why, Pa, I didn't think you were that mean!"

  The two men laughed heartily.

  "I was a heap meaner," said her father. "I made him pay interest."

  Virginia drew in her breath, and looked at the Colonel in amazement.

  "He's the meanest man I know," said Captain Lige. "He made me payinterest, and a mint julep."

  "Upon my word, Pa," said Miss Virginia, soberly, "I shouldn't havebelieved it of you."

  Just then Jackson, in his white jacket; came to announce that supper wasready, and they met Ned at the dining-room door, fairly staggering under aload of roses.

  "Marse Clarence done send 'em in, des picked out'n de hothouse disafternoon, Miss Jinny. Jackson, fotch a bowl!"

  "No," said Virginia. She took the flowers from Ned, one by one, and tothe wonderment of Captain Lige and her--father strewed them hither andthither upon the table until the white cloth was hid by the red flowers.The Colonel stroked his goatee and nudged Captain Lige.

  "Look-a-there, now," said he. "Any other woman would have spent twomortal hours stickin' 'em
in china."

  Virginia, having critically surveyed her work, amid exclamations from Nedand Jackson, had gone around to her place. And there upon her plate lay apearl necklace. For an instant she clapped her palms together, staring atit in bewilderment. And once more the little childish cry of delight,long sweet to the Colonel's ears, escaped her.

  "Pa," she said, "is it--?" And there she stopped, for fear that it mightnot be. But he nodded encouragingly.

  "Dorothy Carvel's necklace! No, it can't be."

  "Yes, honey," said the Colonel. "Your Uncle Daniel sent it, as hepromised. And when you go upstairs, if Easter has done as I told her, youwill see a primrose dress with blue coin-flowers on your bed. Danielthought you might like that, too, for a keepsake. Dorothy Manners wore itin London, when she was a girl."

  And so Virginia ran and threw her arms about her father's neck, andkissed him again and again. And lest the Captain feel badly, she laid hisIndia shawl beside her; and the necklace upon it.

  What a joyful supper they had,--just the three of them! And as the freshroses filled the room with fragrance, Virginia filled it with youth andspirits, and Mr. Carvel and the Captain with honest, manly merriment. AndJackson plied Captain Brent (who was a prime favorite in that house) withbroiled chicken and hot beat biscuits and with waffles, until at lengthhe lay back in his chair and heaved a sigh of content, lighting a cigar.And then Virginia, with a little curtsey to both of them, ran off todress for the party.

  "Well," said Captain Brent, "I reckon there'll be gay goings-on hereto-night. I wouldn't miss the sight of 'em, Colonel, for all the cargoeson the Mississippi. Ain't there anything I can do?"

  "No, thank you, Lige," Mr. Carvel answered. "Do you remember, one morningsome five years ago, when I took in at the store a Yankee named Hopper?You didn't like him, I believe."

  Captain Brent jumped, and the ashes of his cigar fell on his coat. He hadforgotten his conversation with Captain Grant.

  "I reckon I do," he said dryly.

  For a moment he was on the point of telling the affair. Then he desisted.He could not be sure of Eliphalet from Grant's description. So he decidedto await a better time. Captain Brent was one to make sure of his channelbefore going ahead.

  "Well," continued the Colonel, "I have been rather pushed the last week,and Hopper managed things for this dance. He got the music, and saw theconfectioner. But he made such a close bargain with both of 'em that theycame around to me afterward," he added, laughing.

  "Is he coming here to-night?" demanded the Captain, looking disgusted.

  "Lige," replied the Colonel, "you never do get over a prejudice. Yes,he's coming, just to oversee things. He seems to have mighty littlepleasure, and he's got the best business head I ever did see. A Yankee,"said Mr. Carvel, meditatively, as he put on his hat, "a Yankee, when hewill work, works like all possessed. Hood don't like him any more thanyou do, but he allows Hopper is a natural-born business man. Last monthSamuels got tight, and Wright & Company were going to place the largestorder in years. I called in Hood. 'Go yourself, Colonel,' says he. I I'mtoo old to solicit business, Hood,' said I. 'Then there's only one man tosend,' says he, 'young Hopper. He'll get the order, or I'll give up thisplace I've had for twenty years.' Hopper 'callated' to get it, andanother small one pitched in. And you'd die laughing, Lige, to hear howhe did it."

  "Some slickness, I'll gamble," grunted Captain Lige.

  "Well, I reckon 'twas slick," said the Colonel, thoughtfully. "You knowold man Wright hates a solicitor like poison. He has his notions. Andmaybe you've noticed signs stuck up all over his store, 'No Solicitorsnor Travelling Men Allowed Here'"

  The Captain nodded.

  "But Hopper--Hopper walks in, sir, bold as you please, right past thesigns till he comes to the old man's cage. 'I want to see Mr. Wright,'says he to the clerk. And the clerk begins to grin. 'Name, please,' sayshe. Mr. Hopper whips out his business card. 'What!' shouts old Wright,flying 'round in his chair, 'what the devil does this mean? Can't youread, sir?' 'callate to,' says Mr. Hopper. 'And you dare to come in here?

  "'Business is business,' says Hopper. 'You "callate"!' bellowed the oldman; 'I reckon you're a damned Yankee. I reckon I'll upset your"callations" for once. And if I catch you in here again, I'll wring yourneck like a roostah's. Git!'"

  "Who told you this?" asked Captain Brent.

  "Wright himself,--afterward," replied Mr. Carvel, laughing. "But listen,Lige. The old man lives at the Planters' House, you know. What does Mr.Hopper do but go 'round there that very night and give a nigger two bitsto put him at the old man's table. When Wright comes and sees him, henearly has one of his apoplectic fits. But in marches Hopper the nextmorning with twice the order. The good Lord knows how he did it."

  There was a silence. Then the door-bell rang.

  "He's dangerous," said the Captain, emphatically. "That's what I callhim."

  "The Yankees are changing business in this town," was the Colonel'sanswer. "We've got to keep the pace, Lige."

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE PARTY

  To gentle Miss Anne Brinsmade, to Puss Russell of the mischievous eyes,and even to timid Eugenie Renault, the question that burned was: Would hecome, or would he not? And, secondarily, how would Virginia treat him ifhe came? Put our friend Stephen for the subjective, and Miss Carversparty for the objective in the above, and we have the clew. For veryyoung girls are given to making much out of a very little in suchmatters. If Virginia had not gotten angry when she had been teased afortnight before, all would have been well.

  Even Puss, who walked where angels feared to tread, did not dare to gotoo far with Virginia. She had taken care before the day of the party tobeg forgiveness with considerable humility. It had been granted with aqueenly generosity. And after that none of the bevy had dared to broachthe subject to Virginia. Jack Brinsmade had. He told Puss afterward thatwhen Virginia got through with him, he felt as if he had taken a rapidtrip through the wheel-house of a large steamer. Puss tried, by variousingenious devices, to learn whether Mr. Brice had accepted hisinvitation. She failed.

  These things added a zest to a party long looked forward to amongstVirginia's intimates. In those days young ladies did not "come out" sofrankly as they do now. Mothers did not announce to the world that theypossessed marriageable daughters. The world was supposed to know that.And then the matrimonial market was feverishly active. Young men proposedas naturally as they now ask a young girl to go for a walk,--and wererefused quite as naturally. An offer of marriage was not the fearful andwonderful thing--to be dealt with gingerly--which it has since become.Seventeen was often the age at which they began. And one of the bigCatherwood boys had a habit of laying his heart and hand at Virginia'sfeet once a month. Nor did his vanity suffer greatly when she laughed athim.

  It was with a flutter of excitement, therefore, that Miss Carvel's guestsflitted past Jackson, who held the door open obsequiously. The boldest ofthem took a rapid survey of the big parlor, before they put foot on thestairs to see whether Mr. Brice had yet arrived. And if their curiosityheld them too long, they were usually kissed by the Colonel.

  Mr. Carvel shook hands heartily with the young mean and called them bytheir first names, for he knew most of their fathers and grandfathers.And if an older gentleman arrived, perhaps the two might be seen goingdown the hall together, arm in arm. So came his beloved enemy, JudgeWhipple, who did not make an excursion to the rear regions of the housewith the Colonel; but they stood and discussed Mr. President Buchanan'sresponsibility for the recent panic, until the band, which Mr. Hopper hadstationed under the stairs, drowned their voices.

  As we enter the room, there stands Virginia under the rainbowed prisms ofthe great chandelier, receiving. But here was suddenly a woman oftwenty-eight, where only this evening we knew a slip of a girl. It was atrick she had, to become majestic in a ball-gown. She held her head high,as a woman should, and at her slender throat glowed the pearls of DorothyManners.

  The result of all this was to strike a little awe into t
he souls of manyof her playmates. Little Eugenie nearly dropped a curtsey. Belle Cluymewas so impressed that she forgot for a whole hour to be spiteful. ButPuss Russell kissed her on both cheeks, and asked her if she reallywasn't nervous.

  "Nervous!" exclaimed Jinny, "why?"

  Miss Russell glanced significantly towards the doorway. But she saidnothing to her hostess, for fear of marring an otherwise happy occasion.She retired with Jack Brim made to a corner, where she recited:--

  "Oh young Lochinvar is come out of the East; Of millions of Yankees I love him the least."

  "What a joke if he should come!" cried Jack.

  Miss Russell gasped.

  Just as Mr. Clarence Colfax, resplendent in new evening clothes justarrived from New York, was pressing his claim for the first dance withhis cousin in opposition to numerous other claims, the chatter of theguests died away. Virginia turned her head, and for an instant the pearlstrembled on her neck. There was a young man cordially and unconcernedlyshaking hands with her father and Captain Lige. Her memory of that momentis, strangely, not of his face (she did not deign to look at that), butof the muscle of his shoulder half revealed as he stretched forth hisarm.

  Young Mr. Colfax bent over to her ear.

  "Virginia," he whispered earnestly, almost fiercely, Virginia, whoinvited him here?"

  "I did," said Virginia, calmly, "of course. Who invites any one here?"

  "But!" cried Clarence, "do you know who he is?"

  "Yes," she answered, "I know. And is that any reason why he should notcome here as a guest? Would you bar any gentleman from your house onaccount of his convictions?"

  Ah, Virginia, who had thought to hear that argument from your lips? Whatwould frank Captain Lige say of the consistency of women, if he heard younow? And how give an account of yourself to Anne Brinsmade? Whatcontrariness has set you so intense against your own argument?

  Before one can answer this, before Mr. Clarence can recover from hisastonishment and remind her of her vehement words on the subject atBellegarde, Mr. Stephen is making thither with the air of one whoconquers. Again the natural contrariness of women. What bare-facedimpudence! Has he no shame that he should hold his head so high? Shefeels her color mounting, even as her resentment rises at hisself-possession, and yet she would have despised him had he shownself-consciousness in gait or manner in the sight of her assembledguests. Nearly as tall as the Colonel himself, he is plainly seen, andMiss Puss in her corner does not have to stand on tiptoe. Mr. Carvel doesthe honors of the introduction.

  But a daughter of the Carvels was not to fail before such a paltrysituation as this. Shall it be confessed that curiosity stepped into thebreach? As she gave him her hand she was wondering how he would act.

  As a matter of fact he acted detestably. He said nothing whatever, butstood regarding her with a clear eye and a face by far too severe. Thethought that he was meditating on the incident of the auction salecrossed through her mind, and made her blood simmer. How dared he behaveso! The occasion called for a little small talk. An evil spirit tookpossession of Virginia. She turned.

  "Mr. Brice, do you know my cousin, Mr. Colfax?" she said.

  Mr. Brice bowed. "I know Mr. Colfax by sight," he replied.

  Then Mr. Colfax made a stiff bow. To this new phase his sense of humordid not rise. Mr. Brice was a Yankee and no gentleman, inasmuch as he hadoverbid a lady for Hester.

  "Have you come here to live, Mr. Brice?" he asked.

  The Colonel eyed his nephew sharply. But Stephen smiled.

  "Yes," he said, "if I can presently make enough to keep me alive." Thenturning to Virginia, he said, "Will you dance, Miss Carvel?"

  The effrontery of this demand quite drew the breath from the impatientyoung gentlemen who had been waiting their turn. Several of them spoke upin remonstrance. And for the moment (let one confess it who knows),Virginia was almost tempted to lay her arm in his. Then she made a bowthat would have been quite as effective the length of the room.

  "Thank you, Mr. Brice," she said, "but I am engaged to Mr. Colfax."

  Abstractedly he watched her glide away in her cousin's arms. Stephen hada way of being preoccupied at such times. When he grew older he wouldwalk the length of Olive Street, look into face after face ofacquaintances, not a quiver of recognition in his eyes. But most probablythe next week he would win a brilliant case in the Supreme Court. And sonow, indifferent to the amusement of some about him, he stood staringafter Virginia and Clarence. Where had he seen Colfax's face before hecame West? Ah, he knew. Many, many years before he had stood with hisfather in the mellow light of the long gallery at Hollingdean, Kent,before a portrait of the Stuarts' time. The face was that of one of LordNorthwell's ancestors, a sporting nobleman of the time of the secondCharles. It was a head which compelled one to pause before it. Strangelyenough,--it was the head likewise of Clarence Colfax.

  The image of it Stephen had carried undimmed in the eye of his memory.White-haired Northwell's story, also. It was not a story that Mr. Bricehad expected his small son to grasp. As a matter of fact Stephen had notgrasped it then--but years afterward. It was not a pleasant story,--andyet there was much of credit in it to the young rake its subject,--ofdash and courage and princely generosity beside the profligacy andincontinence.

  The face had impressed him, with its story. He had often dreamed of it,and of the lace collar over the dull-gold velvet that became it so well.And here it was at last, in a city west of the Mississippi River. Herewere the same delicately chiselled features, with their pallor, andsatiety engraved there at one and twenty. Here was the same lazy scorn inthe eyes, and the look which sleeplessness gives to the lids: the hair,straight and fine and black; the wilful indulgence--not of one life, butof generations--about the mouth; the pointed chin. And yet it was a factto dare anything, and to do anything.

  One thing more ere we have done with that which no man may explain. Hadhe dreamed, too, of the girl? Of Virginia? Stephen might not tell, butthrice had the Colonel spoken to him before he answered.

  "You must meet some of these young ladies, sir."

  It was little wonder that Puss Russell thought him dull on that firstoccasion. Out of whom condescension is to flow is a matter of whichHeaven takes no cognizance. To use her own words, Puss thought him "stuckup," when he should have been grateful. We know that Stephen was notstuck up, and later Miss Russell learned that likewise. Very naturallyshe took preoccupation for indifference. It is a matter worth recording,however, that she did not tease him, because she did not dare. He did notask her to dance, which was rude. So she passed him back to Mr. Carvel,who introduced him to Miss Renault and Miss Saint Cyr, and other youngladies of the best French families. And finally, drifting hither andthither with his eyes on Virginia, in an evil moment he was presented toMrs. Colfax. Perhaps it has been guessed that Mrs. Colfax was a verygreat lady indeed, albeit the daughter of an overseer. She bore AddisonColfax's name, spent his fortune, and retained her good looks. On thisparticular occasion she was enjoying herself quite as much as any younggirl in the room, and, while resting from a waltz, was regaling a numberof gentlemen with a humorous account of a scandal at the VirginiaSpring's.

  None but a great lady could have meted out the punishment administered topoor Stephen. None but a great lady could have concerned it. And he, whohad never been snubbed before, fell headlong into her trap. How was theboy to know that there was no heart in the smile with which she greetedhim? It was all over in an instant. She continued to talk about VirginiaSprings, "Oh, Mr. Brice, of course you have been there. Of course youknow the Edmunds. No? You haven't been there? You don't know the Edmunds?I thought every body had been there. Charles, you look as if you werejust dying to waltz. Let's have a turn before the music stops."

  And so she whirled away, leaving Stephen forlorn, a little too angry tobe amused just then. In that state he spied a gentleman coming towardshim--a gentleman the sight of whom he soon came to associate with allthat is good and kindly in this world, Mr. Brinsmade. And now he p
ut hishand on Stephen's shoulder. Whether he had seen the incident just past,who can tell?

  "My son," said he, "I am delighted to see you here. Now that we are suchnear neighbors, we must be nearer friends. You must know my wife, and myson Jack, and my daughter Anne."

  Mrs. Brinsmade was a pleasant little body, but plainly not a fit mate forher husband. Jack gave Stephen a warm grasp of the hand, and an amusedlook. As for Anne, she was more like her father; she was Stephen's friendfrom that hour.

  "I have seen you quite often, going in at your gate, Mr. Brice. And Ihave seen your mother, too. I like her," said Anne. "She has such awonderful face." And the girl raised her truthful blue eyes to his.

  "My mother would be delighted to know you," he ventured, not knowing whatelse to say. It was an effort for him to reflect upon their new situationas poor tenants to a wealthy family.

  "Oh, do you think so?" cried Anne. "I shall call on her to-morrow, withmother. Do you know, Mr. Brice," she continued, "do you know that yourmother is just the person I should go to if I were in trouble, whether Iknew her or not?"

  "I have found her a good person in trouble," said Stephen, simply. Hemight have said the same of Anne.

  Anne was enchanted. She had thought him cold, but these words beliedthat. She had wrapped him in that diaphanous substance with which youngladies (and sometimes older ones) are wont to deck their heroes. She hadapproached a mystery--to find it human, as are many mysteries. But thankheaven that she found a dignity, a seriousness,--and these more thansatisfied her. Likewise, she discovered something she had not looked for,an occasional way of saying things that made her laugh. She danced withhim, and passed him back to Miss Puss Russell, who was better pleasedthis time; she passed him on to her sister, who also danced with him, andsent him upstairs for her handkerchief.

  Nevertheless, Stephen was troubled. As the evening wore on, he was moreand more aware of an uncompromising attitude in his young hostess, whomhe had seen whispering to various young ladies from behind her fan asthey passed her. He had not felt equal to asking her to dance a secondtime. Honest Captain Lige Breast, who seemed to have taken a fancy tohim, bandied him on his lack of courage with humor that was a littlerough. And, to Stephen's amazement, even Judge Whipple had pricked himon.

  It was on his way upstairs after Emily Russell's handkerchief that he ranacross another acquaintance. Mr. Eliphalet Hopper, in Sunday broadcloth,was seated on the landing, his head lowered to the level of the top ofthe high door of the parlor. Stephen caught a glimpse of the picturewhereon his eyes were fixed. Perhaps it is needless to add that MissVirginia Carvel formed the central figure of it.

  "Enjoy in' yourself?" asked Mr. Hopper.

  Stephen countered.

  "Are you?" he asked.

  "So so," said Mr. Hopper, and added darkly: "I ain't in no hurry. Justnow they callate I'm about good enough to manage the business end of anaffair like this here. I guess I can wait. But some day," said he,suddenly barring Stephen's way, "some day I'll give a party. And hark tome when I tell you that these here aristocrats 'll be glad enough to getinvitations."

  Stephen pushed past coldly. This time the man made him shiver. Theincident was all that was needed to dishearten and disgust him. Kindly ashe had been treated by others, far back in his soul was a thing thatrankled. Shall it be told crudely why he went that night? Stephen Brice,who would not lie to others, lied to himself. And when he came downstairsagain and presented Miss Emily with her handkerchief, his next move wasin his mind. And that was to say good-night to the Colonel, and morefrigidly to Miss Carvel herself. But music has upset many a man'scalculations.

  The strains of the Jenny Lind waltz were beginning to float through therooms. There was Miss Virginia in a corner of the big parlor, for themoment alone with her cousin. And thither Stephen sternly strode. Not asign did she give of being aware of his presence until he stood beforeher. Even then she did not lift her eyes. But she said: "So you have comeat last to try again, Mr. Brice?"

  And Mr. Brice said: "If you will do me the honor, Miss Carvel."

  She did not reply at once. Clarence Colfax got to his feet. Then shelooked up at the two men as they stood side by side, and perhaps sweptthem both in an instant's comparison.

  The New Englander's face must have reminded her more of her own father,Colonel Carvel. It possessed, from generations known, the power tocontrol itself. She afterwards admitted that she accepted him to teaseClarence. Miss Russell, whose intuitions are usually correct, does notbelieve this.

  "I will dance with you," said Virginia.

  But, once in his arms, she seemed like a wild thing, resisting. Althoughher gown brushed his coat, the space between them was infinite, and herhand lay limp in his, unresponsive of his own pressure. Not so her feet;they caught the step and moved with the rhythm of the music, and roundthe room they swung. More than one pair paused in the dance to watchthem. Then, as they glided past the door, Stephen was disagreeablyconscious of some one gazing down from above, and he recalled EliphaletHopper and his position. The sneer from Eliphalet's seemed to penetratelike a chilly draught.

  All at once, Virginia felt her partner gathering up his strength, and bysome compelling force, more of wild than of muscle, draw her nearer.Unwillingly her hand tightened under his, and her blood beat faster andher color came and went as they two moved as one. Anger--helpless anger--took possession of her as she saw the smiles on the faces of herfriends, and Puss Russell mockingly throwing a kiss as she passed her.And then, strange in the telling, a thrill as of power rose within herwhich she strove against in vain. A knowledge of him who guided her soswiftly, so unerringly, which she had felt with no other man. Faster andfaster they stepped, each forgetful of self and place, until the waltzcame suddenly to a stop.

  "By gum!" said Captain Lige to Judge Whipple, "you can whollop me on myown forecastle if they ain't the handsomest couple I ever did see."