"I have daughters, and am tremblingly alive to their good. I feel it
to be my duty to protect them from all associations likely to do
them an injury. Am I not right in this?"
"Undoubtedly."
"There is one young man in this city whose very name should shock
the ear of innocence and purity. I mean Clement."
"You cannot think worse of him than I do."
"And yet, I am told, Mrs. Leland, that your daughter may be seen on
the street with him almost every day; and not only on the street,
but at balls, concerts, and the theatre."
"Who says so?"
"I have heard it from several," replied the lady, speaking slower
and more thoughtfully. "Mrs. Halloran mentioned it to the person who
first told me; and, since then, I have frequently heard it spoken
of."
In answer to this, Mrs. Leland related the whole history of her
intercourse with Mrs. Halloran, and the cause of its interruption.
She then said--
"Once, only, are we aware of our daughter's having met this young
man. Since then, she has gone out but rarely, and has not been from
home a single evening, unless in our company; so that the broad
charge of association with Clement is unfounded, and has had its
origin in a malignant spirit."
"I understand it all, now, clearly," replied the lady. "Mrs.
Halloran is a woman of no principle. You have deeply offended her,
and she takes this method of being revenged."
"That is the simple truth. I was urged by my husband not to call
upon her when she moved in our square, but I felt it to be only
right to visit her as a neighbor."
"A woman like Mrs. Halloran is not to be regarded as a neighbor,"
replied the lady.
"So my husband argued, but I was blind enough to think differently,
and to act as I thought. Dearly enough am I paying for my folly.
Where the consequences will end is more than I can tell."
"We may be able to counteract them to a certain extent," said the
lady. "Understanding as I now do, clearly, your position toward Mrs.
Halloran, I will be able to neutralize a great deal that she says.
But I am afraid your daughter is misleading you in some things, and
giving color to what is said of her."
"How so?" asked Mrs. Leland in surprise.
"Was she out yesterday?"
"Yes. She went to see her cousins in the morning."
"One of my daughters says she met her in the street, in company with
the very individual of whom we are speaking."
"Impossible!"
"My daughter says she is not mistaken," returned the lady.
Mrs. Leland's distress of mind, as to this intelligence, may be
imagined. On returning home, she found that Jane had gone out during
her absence. She went up into her daughter's room, and found a note
addressed to Jane lying upon her table. After some reflection, she
felt it to be her duty to open the note, which she did. It was from
Mary Halloran, and in these words:--
"MY SWEET FRIEND,--I saw Mr. Clement last night at the opera. He had
a great deal to say about you, and uttered many flattering
compliments on your beauty. He says that he would like to meet you
to-morrow evening, and will be at the corner of Eighth and Pine
streets at half past seven o'clock. Can you get away at that time,
without exciting suspicion? If you can, don't fail to meet him, as
he is very desirous that you should do so. I was delighted with the
opera, and wished a hundred times that you were with me to enjoy it.
"Yours, forever,
"MARY."
Mrs. Leland clasped her hands together, and leaned forward upon the
bureau near which she had been standing, scarcely able to sustain
her own weight. It was many minutes before she could think clearly.
After much reflection, she thought it best not to say anything to
Jane about the note. This course was approved by Mr. Leland, who
believed with his wife, that it was better that Jane should be kept
in ignorance of its contents, at least until the time mentioned for
her joining Clement had passed. Both the parents were deeply
troubled; and bitterly did Mrs. Leland repent her folly in making
the acquaintance of their new neighbor, simply because she was a
neighbor according to proximity.
It was after seven o'clock when the tea bell rang that evening. Mr.
and Mrs. Leland descended to the dining-room, and took their places
at the table.
"Where is Jane?" asked Mrs. Leland, after they had been seated a few
moments.
"She went out five or ten minutes ago," replied the waiter.
Both the mother and father started, with exclamations of surprise
and alarm, from the table. Mr. Leland seized his hat and cane, and
rushing from the house, ran at full speed toward the place which
Clement had appointed for a meeting with his daughter. He arrived in
time to see a lady hastily enter a carriage, followed by a man. The
carriage drove off rapidly. A cab was passing near him at the time,
to the driver of which he called in an excited voice.
"Do you see that carriage?" Mr. Leland said eagerly, as the man
reined up his horse. "Keep within sight of it until it stops, and I
will give you ten dollars."
"Jump in," returned the driver. "I'll keep in sight."
For nearly a quarter of an hour the wheels of the cab rattled in the
ears of Mr. Leland. It then stopped, and the anxious father sprang
out upon the pavement. The carriage had drawn up a little in
advance, and a lady was descending from it, assisted by a man. Mr.
Leland knew the form of his daughter. Ere the young lady and her
attendant could cross the pavement, he had confronted them. Angry
beyond the power of control, he seized the arm of Jane with one
hand, and, as he drew away from her companion, knocked him down with
a tremendous blow from the cane which he held in the other. Then
dragging, or rather carrying, his frightened daughter to the cab,
thrust her in, and, as he followed after, gave the driver the
direction of his house, and ordered him to go there at the quickest
speed. Jane either was, or affected to be, unconscious, when she
arrived at home.
Two days after, this paragraph appeared in one of the daily papers.
"SAVED FROM THE BRINK OF RUIN.--A young man of notoriously bad
character, yet connected with one of our first families, recently
attempted to draw aside from virtue an innocent but thoughtless and
unsuspecting girl, the daughter of a respectable citizen. He
appointed a meeting with her in the street at night, and she was mad
enough to join him at the hour mentioned. Fortunately it happened
that the father, by some means, received intelligence of what was
going on, and hurried to the place. He arrived in time to see them
enter a carriage and drive off. He followed in another carriage, and
when they stopped before a house, well known to be one of evil
repute, he confronted them on the pavement, knocked the young
villain down, and carried his daughter off home. We forbear to
mention names, as it would do harm, rather than good, the young lady
being innocent of any evil intent, and unsuspicious of wrong in her
companion. We hope it will prove a lesson that she will never
forget. She made a most fortunate escape."
When Jane Leland was shown this paragraph, she shuddered and turned
pale; and the shudder went deeper, and her cheek became still paler,
a few weeks later when the sad intelligence came that Mary Halloran
had fallen into the same snare that had been laid for her feet; a
willing victim too many believed, for she was not ignorant of
Clement's real character.
By sad experience Mrs. Leland was taught the folly of any weak
departure from what is clearly seen to be a right course of action;
and she understood, better than she had ever done before, the
oft-repeated remark of her husband that "only those whose principles
and conduct we approve are to be considered, in any true sense,
neighbors."