"Where lives the man that has not tried
How mirth can into folly glide,
And folly into sin!"
--Scott.
Ralph Conly was not a favorite with any of his Ion relatives, because they
knew his principles were not altogether such as they could approve, nor
indeed his practice either; yet they had no idea how bad a youth he was,
else intimacy between him and Max would have been forbidden.
All unsuspected by the older people, he was exerting a very demoralizing
influence over the younger boy. Every afternoon they sought out some
private spot and had a game of cards, and little by little Ralph had
introduced gambling into the game, till now the stakes were high in
proportion to the means of the players.
On this particular afternoon they had taken possession of a summer-house
in a retired part of the grounds, and were deep in play.
Ralph at first let Max win, the stakes being small; then raising them
higher, he won again and again, till he had stripped Max of all his
pocket money and his watch.
Max felt himself ruined, and broke out in passionate exclamations of grief
and despair, coupled with accusations of cheating, which were, indeed,
well founded.
Ralph grew furious and swore horrible oaths, and Max answered with a
repetition of his accusation, concluding with an oath, the first he had
uttered since his father's serious talk with him on the exceeding
sinfulness and black ingratitude of profanity.
All that had passed then, the passages of Scripture telling of the
punishment of the swearer under the Levitical law, flashed back upon him
as the words left his lips, and covering his face with his hands he
groaned in anguish of spirit at thought of his fearful sin.
Then Mr. Dinsmore's voice, speaking in sternest accents, startled them
both. "Ralph, is this the kind of boy you are? a gambler and profane
swearer? And you, too, Max? Do you mean to break your poor father's heart
and some day bring down his gray hairs with sorrow to the grave? Go at
once to your room, sir. And you, Ralph, return immediately to Roselands. I
cannot expose my grandchildren to the corrupting influence of such a
character as yours."
The mandate was obeyed promptly and in silence by both, Ralph not daring
to gather up his plunder, or even his cards from the table where they lay.
Mr. Dinsmore took possession of both, and followed Max to the house. In
the heat of their altercation the lads had raised their voices to a high
pitch, and he, happening to be at no great distance, and hastening to the
spot to learn the cause of the disturbance, had come upon them in time to
hear the last sentence uttered by each, and had taken in the whole
situation at a glance.
He went directly to his daughter's dressing-room, and sent for Violet to
join them there.
Both ladies were greatly distressed by the tale he had to tell.
"Oh," sobbed Violet, "it will break my husband's heart to learn that his
only son has taken to such evil courses! And to think that it was a
relative of our own who led him into it!"
"Yes," sighed Mr. Dinsmore, "I blame myself for not being more watchful;
though I had no idea that Ralph had acquired such vices."
"I cannot have you blame yourself, papa," Elsie said, with tender look and
tone, "I am sure it was no fault of yours. And I cannot believe the dear
boy has become a confirmed swearer or gambler in so short a time. He is a
warm-hearted fellow, and has a tender conscience. We will hope by divine
aid to reclaim him speedily."
"Dear mamma, thank you!" exclaimed Violet, smiling through her tears.
"What you say of Max is quite true, and I have no doubt that he is at this
very moment greatly distressed because of his sin."
"I trust it may be so," said Mr. Dinsmore. "But now the question is, what
is to be done with him? I wish his father were here to prescribe the
course to be taken."
"Oh, he has already done so!" cried Violet, bursting into tears again. "He
said if Max should ever be guilty of profanity he was to be confined to
his own room for a week, and forbidden all intercourse with the rest of
the family as unworthy to associate with them. I begged him not to compel
us to be so severe, but he was inexorable."
"Then we have no discretionary power, no choice but to carry out his
directions," Mr. Dinsmore said, feeling rather relieved that the decision
was not left with him. "I shall go now and tell Max what his sentence is,
and from whom it comes.
"And, unfortunately, it will be necessary, in order to carry it out, to
inform the other members of the family, who might otherwise hold
communication with him.
"That task I leave to you, Elsie and Violet."
He left the room, and Violet, after a little sorrowful converse with her
mother, went to her own, and with many tears told Lulu and Gracie what had
occurred, and what was, by their father's direction, to be Max's
punishment.
Both little sisters were shocked and grieved, very sorry for Max, for it
seemed to them quite terrible to be shut up in one room for a whole week,
while to be out of doors was so delightful; but even Lulu had nothing to
say against their father's decree, especially after Violet had explained
that he had made it in his great love for Max, wanting to cure him of
vices that would make him wretched in this life and the next.
Rosie was still more shocked and scarcely less sorry than Lulu and Gracie,
for she had been taught to look upon swearing and gambling as very great
sins, and yet she liked Max very much indeed, and pitied him for the
disgrace and punishment he had brought upon himself.
It was she who told Zoe, seeking her in her dressing-room, where she was
making her toilet for the evening.
"Oh, Rosie, how dreadful!" exclaimed Zoe. "I never could have believed it
of Max! but it is all because of the bad influence of that wicked Ralph.
I see now why Edward disapproves of him so thoroughly that he didn't like
me to ride with him. But I do think Captain Raymond is a very severe
father. A whole week in the house this lovely weather! How can the poor
boy ever stand it!
"And nobody to speak a kind word to him, either. I don't think they ought
to be so hard on him, for I dare say he is grieving himself sick over it
now, for he isn't a bad boy."
"No," said Rosie, "I don't think he is; I like Max very much, but of
course his father's orders have to be carried out, and for that reason we
are all forbidden to go near him, and we have no choice but to obey."
"Forbidden, indeed!" thought Zoe to herself. "I for one shall do as I
please about it."
"Zoe, how pretty you are! that dress is very becoming!" exclaimed Rosie,
suddenly changing the subject.
"Am I? But I can't compare with Miss Deane in either beauty or
conversational powers," returned Zoe, the concluding words spoken with
some bitterness.
"Can't you? just ask Ned about it," laughed Rosie. "I verily believe he
thinks you the sweetest thing he ever set eyes on. There, I hear him
coming, and must run away, for I know he always wants you all to himself
here; and besides, I have to dress."
She ran gayly away, passing her brother on the threshold.
Zoe was busying herself at a bureau drawer, apparently searching for
something, and did not look toward him or speak. In another moment she had
found what she wanted, closed the drawer, and passed into her boudoir.
Edward had been standing silently watching her, love and anger struggling
for the mastery in his breast. If she had only turned to him with a word,
or even a look of regret for the past, and desire for reconciliation, he
would have taken her to his heart again as fully and tenderly as ever. He
was longing to do so, but too proud to make the first advances when he
felt himself the aggrieved one.
"All would be right between them but for Zoe's silly jealousy and pride.
Why could she not trust him and submit willingly to his guidance and
control while she was still so young and inexperienced--such a mere child
as to be quite incapable of judging for herself in any matter of
importance? In fact, he felt it his duty to guide and control her till she
should grow older and wiser."
Such were his thoughts as he went through the duties of the toilet, while
Zoe sat at the window of her boudoir gazing out over the smoothly shaven
lawn with its stately trees, lovely in their fresh spring attire, to the
green fields and woods beyond, yet scarcely taking in the beauty of the
landscape, so full of tears were her eyes, so full her heart of anger,
grief, and pain.
She had not looked at her husband as he stood silently near her a moment
ago, but felt that he was gazing with anger and sternness upon her.
"If he had only said one kind word to me," she whispered to herself, "I
would have told him I was sorry for my silly speech this afternoon, and
oh, so happy to be his own little wife, if--if only he hasn't quit loving
me."
She hastily wiped her eyes and endeavored to assume an air of cheerfulness
and indifference, as she heard his step approaching.
"Are you ready to go down now, Zoe?" he asked in a freezing tone.
"Yes," she answered, turning to follow him as he led the way to the door.
There seemed to be a tacit understanding between them that their
disagreements and coldness toward each other were to be concealed from all
the rest of the world; in the old happy days they had always gone down
together to the drawing-room or the tea-table, therefore would do so
still.
Also, they studiously guarded their words and looks in the presence of any
third person.
Yet Elsie, the tender mother, with eyes sharpened by affection, had
already perceived that all was not right. She had noted Zoe's disturbed
look when Edward seemed specially interested in Miss Deane's talk or Miss
Fleming's music, and had silently determined not to ask them to prolong
their stay at Ion.
The supper-bell rang as Edward and Zoe descended the stairs together, and
they obeyed its summons without going into the drawing-room.
Violet's place at the table was vacant as well as that of Max, and Lulu
and Gracie bore the traces of tears about their eyes.
These things reminded Zoe of Max's trouble, forgotten for a time in her
own, and she thought pityingly of him in his imprisonment, wondered if he
would be put upon prison fare, and determined to find out, and if he were,
to try to procure him something better.
She made an errand to her own rooms soon after leaving the table, went to
his door and knocked softly.
"Who's there?" he asked in a voice half choked with sobs.
"It is I, Maxie," she said in an undertone at the keyhole, "Zoe, you know.
I want to say I'm ever so sorry for you, and always ready to do anything I
can to help you."
"Thank you," he said, "but I mustn't see anybody, so can't open the door;
and, indeed," with a heavy sob, "I'm not fit company for you or any of
the rest."
"Yes, you are, you're as good as I am. But why can't you open the door?
are you locked in?"
"No; but--papa said I--I must stay by myself for a week if--if I did what
I have done to-day. So please don't stay any longer, though it was ever so
good in you to come."
"Good-by, then," and she moved away.