Carolina Lee

by Lilian Bell

  CHAPTER XII.

  WHITEHALL

  "Well," said Mrs. Winchester, looking out of the car-window as the trainapproached Enterprise, "if any man had told me that two years from theday we left Bombay I should find myself going back to Guildford to live,I should have said he was a thousand dollars from the truth. What areyou laughing at, Carolina?"

  "And if any man had told me that I could ever have brought myself toaccept an invitation from Miss Sue Yancey to visit them at Whitehalluntil we could establish ourselves comfortably, when I used to dislikeher brother so much, I should have said the same," said Carolina, "butlove works many miracles in the human heart."

  Mrs. Winchester looked sharply at the young girl, but Carolina'sexpression was so innocent Cousin Lois decided that she was notreferring to Colonel Yancey. Then, with one of her rare caresses, whichMrs. Winchester prized above gold, Carolina laid her hand on Mrs.Winchester's arm and said:

  "And, dear Cousin Lois, no mother could have been sweeter and moreunselfish about the loss of her money than you have been, or moreself-sacrificing to come down here with me."

  "Nonsense, my dear!" said Mrs. Winchester, colouring like a girl ofeighteen. Her blush was still beautiful and was her only comfort,except her waist-line. "You know that I love to be where you are. Infact, Carolina, if you knew how I suffered, actually suffered, child,last winter in Boston, when I was separated from you, you would believeme when I say that I cannot live without you. I must be with you. Youare all I have in the world,--and the money,--what is money good forexcept to buy things with? Haven't I everything I want?"

  Carolina listened with a beating heart.

  "Yet, you are even going to have the money back!" she said, with anotherpressure of Cousin Lois's hand.

  "Yes, I really believe I am. That new religion of yours seems to be asort of magic carpet, to take you anywhere you want to go and to get youeverything you want to have."

  "It brings perfect harmony into your life," said Carolina.

  "Well, harmony is heaven!" said Mrs. Winchester, emphatically.

  "Oh, what bliss to be coming home!" breathed Carolina, fervently. "Iwonder if any shipwrecked sailor or prodigal son or homesick child everyearned as cruelly for his father's house as I yearn for my first sightof Guildford!"

  Mrs. Winchester turned, a little frightened at the passion in the girl'stone. She felt that Carolina was unconsciously preparing herself for abitter disappointment.

  "How dear those little darkies are!" she cried. "But, oh, did you seewhat that woman did? She knocked that little boy sprawling! Sheknocked that child down! Did you ever hear of such cruelty? Do yousuppose she could possibly have been his own mother, Cousin Lois?"

  "Sit down, Carolina, and don't get so excited. Of course she was hismother. That's the way coloured women do. It saves talking,--whichseems to do no good. I've seen old Aunt 'Polyte, in your father's timeat Guildford, come creeping around the corner of her cabin to see if herchildren were obeying her, and, if she found that they were not, I'veseen her knock all ten of them down,--some fully six feet away. Andsuch yells!"

  "Did grandfather allow it?" demanded Carolina, with blazing eyes.

  "I can fairly see him now, sitting his horse Splendour, draw rein andshake with silent laughter, till he had to take his pipe out of hismouth. It was too common a sight to make a fuss about. Besides, theyneeded it. Of all the mischievous, obstinate, thick-headed littledonkeys you ever saw, commend me to a raft of black children,--Aunt'Polyte's in particular. Coloured women are nearly always inhuman onthe surface to their own children."

  "Wasn't Aunt 'Polyte my father's black mammy? Wasn't she kind to thewhite children in her charge?"

  "Ah, that was a different matter. Kind? 'Polyte would have let all herown children die to save your father one ache. I remember when herchildren got the measles, she locked them all in the cabin, and sent hersister to feed them at night, while she stayed in the big house and kepther white children from contagion. Fortunately, none of her own died,but, if they had, it wouldn't have changed her idea of her duty."

  "What was there queer about Aunt 'Polyte? I remember that daddy told meonce, but I have forgotten."

  "She had one blue eye and one biack one, and not one of her childreninherited her peculiarity except her youngest child,--a boy,--born whenshe was what would be called an old woman. I know she thought it was abad omen to have a child after she was fifty, and, when she saw his blueeye, she said he was marked for bad luck."

  "Oh, how dreadful!" cried Carolina. "Cousin Lois, you know enough aboutChristian Science to know that she made a law for that child which mayhave ruined him for life."

  "Yes, I suppose she did. But, Carolina, dear, don't get your hopes ofthe South up too high. I am afraid it won't come up to yourexpectations."

  Carolina smiled, sighed, and shook her head.

  "I can't modify my anticipations, Cousin Lois. Don't try to help me. IfI am to be disillusioned, let it come with an awful bump. Nothing shortof being knocked down with a broadside like that little negro boy can domy case any good. I'm hopeless."

  "I believe you are. Well, we shall see. We must be nearly there. Thelast time the train stopped,--was it to shoo a cow off the track or torepair the telegraph wires?--the conductor said we were only five hourslate. But that was six hours ago. I wonder what we are stopping atthis little shed for? Oh, hurry, Carolina! He is calling Enterpriseand beckoning to us."

  "No hurry, ma'am," said the conductor. "The train will wait until youall get off in comfort, or I'll shoot the engineer with my own hand!"

  Carolina stepped from the train to the platform and looked around. Thenshe bit her lip until it bled. Cousin Lois was counting thehand-luggage and purposely refrained from looking at her.

  There was a platform baking in the torrid heat of a September afternoon.From a shed at one end came the clicking of a telegraph instrument.That, then, must be the station. Six or eight negro boys and men, whohad been asleep in the shade of a dusty palmetto, roused up at thearrival of the train and came lazily forward to see what was going on.There were some dogs who did not take even that amount of trouble. Awide street with six inches of dust led straight away from the stationplatform. There was a blacksmith shop on one side and a row of huts onthe other. Farther along, Carolina could see the word "Hotel" in frontof a one-story cottage. The town fairly quivered with the heat.

  "Was you-all expectin' any one to meet you?" inquired the conductor.

  "Why, yes," answered Mrs. Winchester. "Miss Yancey said she would sendfor us."

  "Miss Yancey? Miss Sue or Miss Sallie Yancey? Fat lady with snappin'brown eyes?"

  "Yes, that describes her."

  "The one that's just been to New York with the colonel's children?"

  "Yes."

  "Oh, well, that's Miss Sue. She'll send all right, but likely's notyou've got to wait awn her. She's so fat she can't move fast. Have youever heard how the colonel's little girl was kyored? She went to one ofthese here spiritualists and was kyored in a trance, they tell me."

  "Ah, is that what they say?" said Mrs. Winchester, in a tone of deepvexation. She felt insulted to think of so dignified a belief asChristian Science being confounded with such a thing as spiritualism.But she realized the absurdity of entering into a defence of a newreligion with the conductor of a waiting train. She had, however,forgotten what Southern railroads are like.

  "Yes'm. They say a lady done it. Jest waved her hands over the child,and Gladys hopped up and began to shout and sing and pray!"

  "My good man," said Mrs. Winchester, "do start your train up. You areseven hours late as it is!"

  "What's your hurry, ma'am? Everybody expects this train to be late. Ican't go till my wife's niece comes along. She wants to go on thistrain, and I reckon I know better than to leave her. She's got a tonguesharper'n Miss Sue Yancey's."

  Mrs. Winchester turned her majesti
c bulk on the conductor, intending toannihilate him with a glance, but he shifted his quid of tobacco to theother cheek, spat neatly at a passing dog, lifted one foot to aresting-place on Carolina's steamer-trunk, and continued, pleasantly:

  "Now, that there dust comin' up the road means business for these parts.I'd be willin' to bet a pretty that that is either Moultrie La Grange orMiss Sue Yancey. But whoever it is, they are sho in a hurry."

  Carolina stood looking at the cloud of dust also. Most of the passengerson the waiting train, with their heads out of the car-windows, weredoing the same. It seemed to be the only energetic and disturbingelement in an otherwise peaceful landscape, and only one or twopassengers, who were obviously from the North and therefore impatient byinheritance, objected in the least to this enforced period of rest.

  "And from here, I'd as soon say it was Moultrie as Miss Sue. They bothkick up a heap of dust in one way or another, on'y Moultrie, he don'traise no dust talking. If it _is_ Moultrie, he'll be mighty sore atbein' away when the train come in, on'y I reckon he didn't look for herso soon. We was thirteen hours late yestiddy."

  How much longer the train would have waited, no one with safety can say,had not the cloud of dust resolved itself into a two-seated vehicle, inwhich sat two ladies, both clad in gray linen dusters, which completelyconcealed their identity. One of the dusters proved to be theconductor's niece, who took the time to be introduced to Mrs. Winchesterand Carolina by the other duster, which turned out to be Miss SueYancey. When the conductor's niece had fully examined every item ofCarolina's costume with a frank gaze of inventory, she stepped into thestation to claim her luggage, and then, after bidding everybody good-byeall over again, she got into the train, put her head out of the window,called out messages to be given to each of her family, and, after a fewmoments more of monotonous bell-ringing by the engineer, in order togive everybody plenty of notice that the train was going to start, itcreaked forward and bumped along on its deliberate journey farthersouth.

  Carolina took an agonized notice of all this. If it had been anywhereelse in the world, she could have been amused; she would have listenedin delight to the garrulous conductor, and would have laughed at thecrawling train. But here at Enterprise,--that dear town which wasnearest to the old estate of Guildford,--why, it was like being asked tolaugh at the drunken antics of a man whom you recognized as your ownbrother!

  She listened to Miss Yancey's apologies for being late with a stiffsmile on her lips. She must have answered direct questions, if any wereasked, because no breaks in the conversation occurred and no one lookedquestioningly at her, but she had no recollection of anything except thejolting of the springless carriage and the clouds of dust which rolledin suffocating clouds from beneath the horses' shuffling feet.

  They drove about four miles, and then turned in at what was once a gate.It was now two rotting pillars. The road was rough and overgrown oneach side with underbrush. The house before which they stopped had beena fine old colonial mansion. Now the stone steps were so broken thatMiss Yancey politely warned her guests with a gay:

  "And _do_ don't break your neck on those old stones, Mrs. Winchester.You see, we of the old South live in a continuous state of decay. Butwe don't mind it now. We have gotten used to it. If you will believeme, it didn't even make me jealous to see the prosperity of thoseYankees up North. I kept saying to myself all the time, 'But _we_ havegot the blood!'"

  As they entered the massive hall, cool and dim, the first thing whichstruck the eye was a large family tree, framed in black walnut, hangingon one side of the wall, while on the other was a highly coloured coatof arms of the Yanceys, also framed and under glass.

  Miss Yancey took off her duster and hung it on the hat-rack.

  "Now, welcome to Whitehall! Will you come into the parlour and restawhile, or would you like to go to your rooms and lie down beforesupper? I want you to feel perfectly at home, and do just as youplease."

  "I think we will go to our rooms, please," said Mrs. Winchester, withone glance into Carolina's pale, tired face.

  "Here, you Jake! Carry those satchels to Mrs. Winchester's room, and,Lily, take these things and go help the ladies. And mind you let meknow if they want anything."

  A few moments afterward, Lily, the negro maid, came hurryingdown-stairs, her eyes rolling.

  "Laws, Miss Sue! Dey wants a bath! Dey axed me where wuz de bathroom,en I sez, 'Ev'ry room is a bathroom while y'all is takin' a bath in it.'En Miss Sue, Miss Calline, she busted right out laffin'."

  "They want a bath?" cried Miss Sue. "Well, go tell Angeline to heatsome water quick, and you fill this pitcher and take it up to them. Butmind that you wash it out first,--if you don't, you'll hear fromme,--and don't be all day about it. Now, see if you can hurry, Lily."

  When the sun went down, the oppressive quality in the heat seemed todisappear, and when Cousin Lois and Carolina came down in their cool,thin dresses, they found themselves in the midst of the most delightfulpart of a Southern summer day.

  Miss Sue was nowhere to be seen, but another lady, as thin as she wasfat, came out of the dimness and introduced herself.

  "I am Mrs. Elliott Pringle, ladies, though you will nearly always hearme called Miss Sallie Yancey. Sister Sue is out in the garden. Shallwe join her? I know she wants you to see her roses."

  Carolina's spirits began to rise. She felt ashamed of her hastydisillusionment. Where was her courage that she should be depressed byclouds of dust and the lack of a bathroom?

  In the early evening, with the shadows lengthening on the grass and thepitiless sun departed, the ruin everywhere apparent seemed onlypicturesque, while the warm, sweet odours from the garden were such asno Northern garden yields.

  There were narrow paths bordered with dusty dwarf-box, with queer-shapedflower-beds bearing four-o'clocks, touch-me-nots, phlox, azaleas, andsweet-william. Then there were beds upon beds of a flower no Northernerever sees,--the old-fashioned pink, before gardeners, wiser than theirMaker, attempted to graft it. In its heavy, double beauty it alwaysbursts its calyx and falls of its own weight of fragrance, to lieprostrate on the ground, dying of its own heavy sweetness. Against acrumbling wall were tea-roses. In another spot grew a great pinkcabbage rose, as flat as a plate when in full bloom, with its innerleaves still so tightly crinkled that its golden heart was neverrevealed except by a child's curious investigating fingers. Andcuriously twisting in and out of the branches of this rose-tree was ahoneysuckle vine. Over one end of the porch climbed a purple clematis.Over the other a Cherokee rose. But the great glory of the garden wasover against the southern wall, where roses of every sort bloomed inriotous profusion. Evidently they bloomed of their own sweet will, andwith little care, for the garden was almost as neglected as the rest ofthe place.

  Still it was the first thing which brought back to Carolina "a memory ofsomething" she "never had seen," as she told Cousin Lois when she wentin, and she made an excuse to go out alone after supper was over and thethree ladies were comfortably seated in rocking-chairs on the frontporch.

  "Don't sit in that chair, Mrs. Winchester," Carolina heard Miss Sallie'svoice say, as she ran down the steps into the garden. "That chair hasno seat to it, and the back is broken to this one. Sit in this chair.I think it won't be too damp here to wait for Moultrie."

  The girl could smile now, for the witchery of the evening was on thegarden, and its perfume enthralled her senses. She walked until she gotbeyond the sound of voices on the front porch, and, at the head of a setof shallow terraces, set like grassy steps to lead down to the brookwhich babbled through the lower meadow, she sat down to let her mindtake in the sudden change in her life.

  She rested her chin on her hands and was quite unaware that, in her thinblue dress, with frills of yellow lace falling away from the arms abovethe elbows, and with her neck rising from the transparent stuff like aniris on its slender stem, she made anything of a picture, until shebecame aware that some one was standing quite still on a lower terraceand l
ooking at her with so fixed an expression that she turned until hereyes met his. Most girls would have started with surprise, but toCarolina it was no surprise at all to find the stranger of theMetropolitan Opera and the stranger who had borrowed her brother'sdog-cart, a part of the enchanted garden, and to feel in her own heartthat he was no stranger to her, nor ever had been, nor ever could be.

  They looked at each other for a few moments, the man and the woman, andthe sound of the brook came faintly to their ears. But the scent of thegarden was all about them and there was no need of speech.

  Slowly Carolina smiled, and he reached up his hand to hers and took itand said:

  "You know me?" and she said:

  "Yes."

  "And I know you," he said, "for I have felt ever since that first nightthat you would come."

  "That first night?" she breathed.

  "At the opera," he said.

  Then he drew back strangely and looked around at the garden and frowned,as if it had been to blame for the words he had spoken when he had notmeant to speak. But, although Carolina saw the look and the frown, sheonly smiled and breathed a great sigh of content and looked at thegarden happily.

  Then he turned to her again and said:

  "Did you know that you and I are related?" And he saw with a great liftof the heart that she turned pale before answering, so to spare her hewent on, hurriedly:

  "I have been talking to Mrs. Winchester, and we find that the La Grangesand Lees are kin. You and I are about twelfth cousins, according toMiss Sallie Yancey."

  "So we are of the same blood," said Carolina, gently. Then she added:"I am glad."

  "And so am I,--more glad than I can say, for it will give me theopportunity to be of service to you--in a way I could not--perhaps--ifwe were not kin."

  Carolina looked at him inquiringly, but he had turned his head away, andagain a frown wrinkled his smooth, brown forehead. Carolina looked athim eagerly. He was a man to fill any woman's eye,--tall, lean, lithe,and commanding, with long brown fingers which were closed nervously uponthe brim of his soft black hat. His nose was straight, his lipssensitive yet strong, and his eyes had a way of making most women sighwithout ever knowing why. Moultrie La Grange was said to have "a waywith him" which men never understood, but which women knew, and knew totheir sorrow, for everywhere it was whispered that "Moultrie would nevermarry, since--" and here the whispers became nods and half-uttered wordsand mysterious signs which South Carolinians understood, but whichmystified Mrs. Winchester, and Carolina did not happen to hear thesubject discussed.

  "You have come down here," said Moultrie, "to restore Guildford."

  "Yes," said Carolina, seeing that he paused for a reply.

  "I wish that I could restore Sunnymede. Our place joins yours."

  "It does?" cried Carolina. "Then why don't you?"

  He looked at her sharply. Was she making fun of him?

  "You are a rich young lady. I am a poor man. Can I rebuild Sunnymedewith these?" He held out two fine, strong, symmetrical hands.

  Carolina looked at them appreciatively before she answered.

  "I am a poor young woman, but I intend to rebuild Guildford with,these!" And she held out beside his two of the prettiest hands andwrists and arms that Moultrie La Grange had ever seen in his life, andhe at once said so. And Carolina, instead of being bored, as was herwont in other days, was so frankly pleased that she blushed, and said toherself that the reason she believed this man meant what he said wasbecause she was poor, and he could not possibly be paying court to awealth that she had lost. But the truth of the matter was that shebelieved him because she wanted to. It gave her an exquisite andunknown pleasure to have this man tell her over and over, as he did,that her hands were the most beautiful he had ever seen, and Carolinalooked at them in a childish wonder, and as if she had never seen thembefore. And it was not until she had laid them in her lap again, andthey were partly hidden, that she could bring the conversation back toanything like reason.

  "How do you mean?" he questioned. "You can't do a thing without money.And I hear--" he stopped in confusion, and his forehead reddened.

  "You know that we have lost ours," supplemented Carolina. "Well, youhave heard correctly. Every dollar of my fortune is gone!" Her voicetook on so triumphant a ring that Moultrie looked up at her in surprise.He did not know that part of her exultation came from the joy it gaveher to be able to proclaim her poverty to this man out of all the world,and thus put herself on a level with him.

  "I have only," she continued, "a little laid by which came from the saleof my jewels." Then, as she still saw the questions in his eyes whichhe forebore to ask, she added: "Do you want me to tell you about itall?"

  "More than anything in the world," he assured her. And something in histone shook the girl so that she paused a little before she began.

  "Well, I suppose you know that when Sherman, my brother, mortgagedGuildford, Colonel Yancey bought the mortgage and foreclosed it. Thatis how he got possession of Guildford."

  "But why?" interrupted the man. "What in the world did he especiallywant Guildford for, when there are a dozen other estates he could havebought for less money, and some of them with houses already built?"

  "I don't know," said Carolina, so hurriedly that the man turned his eyesupon her, and, noticing the wave of colour mount to her brow under hisgaze, he looked away and all at once he knew why. Carolina did not seehis hands clench and his teeth come together with a snap, as he thoughtof the Colonel Yancey that men knew.

  "But Mr. Howard, the father of my dearest friend, persuaded ColonelYancey to sell it to him for the face value of the mortgage, so that nowI have no fear of losing it, for Mr. Howard will give me all the time Iwant to pay for it."

  "But what are you going to pay for it with?" asked the young man.

  "Well, if you will go with us when we look over the estate, I can tellyou better than I can now. Do you happen to know anything about this newprocess of making turpentine?"

  "Of course I do," said La Grange, with a frown. "I suppose that yourbrother and his friends have organized a company with Northern capitalto erect a plant which will make everybody rich. That's what allNortherners tell us when they want us to invest. Money is all Yankeesseem to think about."

  "My brother will have nothing to do with the affair at all!" saidCarolina, with some heat. "Guildford is mine, and I'm going to make itpay for itself."

  Moultrie said nothing, but his chin quivered with a desire to laugh, andCarolina saw it. Then he turned to her.

  "You have never seen the home of your ancestors? How are you going tohave your first view of it? From the Barnwells' carryall?"

  Carolina's eyes dilated and she bit her lip.

  "How else could I go?" she said, gently.

  "If you would allow me," he said, eagerly, "we would go onhorseback,--just you and I,--early, early in the morning. It would bethe best time. Will you?"

  "Oh, will you take me?" cried Carolina. There was only a look fromMoultrie La Grange's eyes for an answer. But Carolina's flashed andwavered and dropped before it.

  "Did you ever hear of a magnificent horse your grandfather owned, namedSplendour?" he asked, quietly.

  "Ah, yes, indeed."

  "Well, I own a direct descendant of the sire of that very animal. Hername is Scintilla, and my friend, Barney Mazyck, owns Scintilla's fullsister, a mare named Araby. I'll borrow her for you. Would you likethat?"

  "Oh, Mr. La Grange!" breathed Carolina.

  "Please _never_ call me that. Do let me claim kin with you sufficientlyto have you call me 'Moultrie.'"

  "And will you call me 'Carolina?'" she asked, shyly.

  "We never do that down here with young ladies, unless we are owncousins. But I will call you 'Miss Carolina,' if I may."

  "Then you are asking me to take more of a privilege than you will," saidCarolina.

  "I want you to take every privilege with me that you can permityourself," he said, earnestly.
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br />   When Carolina went indoors that night, the first thing she did was totake two candlesticks, and, holding them at arm's length above her head,to study her own face in the great pier-glass which, in its carvedmahogany frame, occupied one corner of her large bedchamber. Whateverthe picture was which she saw reflected there, it seemed to give herpleasure, for she coloured and smiled as her eyes met those of the girlin the mirror.

  "I am glad _he_ thinks so!" she whispered to herself, as she turnedaway.