Whether Nelly lost her patience next morning or not, history does not
record; but it is a fact that breakfast was late, and late as it was,
Rosie did not make her appearance at it. Graeme had still a very
pleasant remembrance of the evening; but it was not altogether unmixed.
The late breakfast, the disarrangement of household matters, Rosie's
lassitude, and her own disinclination to engage in any serious
occupation, was some drawback to the remembrance of her enjoyment. All
were more or less out of sorts, some from one cause, some from another.
This did not last long, however. The drawback was forgotten, the
pleasure was remembered, so that when a day or two afterward, a note
came from Mrs Gridley, begging the presence of the brothers and sisters
at a small party at her house, nothing was said about refusing. Mrs
Gridley had promised some friends from Toronto, a treat of Scottish
music, and she would be inconsolable should they disappoint her. But
the consolation of Mrs Gridley was not the chief reason of the
acceptance. Arthur was to be out of town, but Will was to go in his
place. They went, and enjoyed it well; indeed, it was very enjoyable.
Mrs Gridley was a serious person, said her friends, and some, who had
no claim to the title said the same--the tone and manner making all the
difference in the sense of the declaration. She would not for much,
have been guilty of giving dancing or card parties in her own house,
though by some mysterious process of reasoning, she had convinced
herself that she could quite innocently make one of such parties in the
houses of other people. So there was only music and conversation, and a
simple game or two for the very young people. Graeme and Rosie, and
Will too, enjoyed it well. Harry professed to have been bored.
Out of these parties sprang others. Graeme hardly knew how it happened,
but the number of their acquaintances greatly increased about this time.
Perhaps it was partly owing to the new partnership entered into by
Arthur, with the long-established firm of Black & Company. They
certainly owed to this, the sight of several fine carriages at their
door, and of several pretty cards in their receiver. Invitations came
thick and fast, until an entire change came over their manner of life.
Regular reading was interfered with or neglected. Household matters
must have fallen into confusion, if Nelly had not proved herself equal
to all emergencies. The long quiet evening at home became the
exception. They went out, or some one came in, or there was a lecture
or concert, or when the sleighing became good a drive by moonlight.
There were skating parties, and snow-shoeing parties, enough to tire the
strongest; and there was no leisure, no quiet time.
Graeme was not long in becoming dissatisfied with this changed,
unsettled life. The novelty soon wore off for her, and she became
painfully conscious of the attendant evils. Sadly disinclined herself
to engage in any serious occupation, she could not but see that with her
sister it was even worse. Rose enjoyed all these gay doings much more,
and in a way quite different from her; and the succeeding lassitude and
depression were proportionably greater. Indeed, lassitude and
depression were quite too gentle terms to apply to the child's
sensations, and her disinclination to occupation sometimes manifested
itself in an unmistakable approach to peevishness, unless, indeed, the
party of the evening was to be followed by the excursion of the day.
Then the evil effects were delayed, not averted. For a time, Graeme
made excuses for her to herself and to her brothers; then she did what
was much wiser. She determined to put a stop to the cause of so much
discomfort. Several circumstances helped her to this decision, or
rather to see the necessity for it. She only hesitated as to the manner
in which she was to make her determination known; and while she
hesitated, an opportunity to discuss their changed life occurred, and
she did not permit it to pass unimproved.
Christmas and New Year's Day had been past for some weeks, and there was
a pause in the festivities of their circle, when a billet of the usual
form and purport was left at the door by a servant in livery. Rose, who
had seen him pass the window, had much to do to keep herself quiet, till
Nelly had taken it from his hand. She just noticed that it was
addressed to Graeme, in time to prevent her from opening it.
"What is it, Graeme?" asked she, eagerly, as she entered the room where
her sister was writing. "I am almost sure it was left by Mrs Roxbury's
servant. See, there is their crest. What is it? An invitation?"
"Yes," said Graeme, quietly, laying down the note. "For the
twenty-seventh."
"Such a long time! It will be a grand affair. We must have new
dresses, Graeme."
She took up the note and read:
"Mrs Roxbury's compliments to Miss Elliott."
"Miss Elliott!" she repeated. "Why, Graeme! I am not invited."
"So it seems; but never mind, Rosie. I am not going to accept it."
Rose was indeed crestfallen.
"Oh, you must go, of course. You must not stay at home on my account."
"No; certainly. That is not the reason. Your being invited would have
made no difference."
"I could hardly have gone without you," said Rose, doubtfully.
"Certainly not. Neither of us would have gone. If I don't accept this
invitation our acquaintance with the Roxburys will perhaps go no
further. That would be a sufficient reason for my refusal, if there
were no others."
"A sufficient reason for not refusing, I should rather say," said Rose.
"No. There is no good reason for keeping up an acquaintance with so
many people. There is no pleasure in it; and it is a great waste of
time and strength, and money too, for that matter."
"But Arthur wishes it. He thinks it right."
"Yes, to a certain extent, perhaps, but not at too great a cost. I
don't mean of money, though in our circumstances that is something, too.
But so much going out has been at a great sacrifice of time and comfort
to us all. I am tired of it. We won't speak of it now, however; I must
finish my letter." For to tell the truth, Rosie's face did not look
promising.
"Don't send a refusal till you have spoken to Arthur, Graeme. If he
wishes you to go, you ought, you know."
"I am by no means sure of that. Arthur does not very often go to these
large parties himself. He does not enjoy them, and I see no reason why
I should deny myself, in so bad a cause."
"But Graeme, you have enjoyed some of them, at least. I am sure I have
always enjoyed them."
"Yes, I have enjoyed some of them, but I am not sure that it is a right
kind of enjoyment. I mean, it may be too dearly bought. And besides,
it is not the party, as a party, that I ever enjoy. I have had more
real pleasure in some of our quiet evenings at home, with only--only one
or two friends, than I ever had at a party, and--, but we won't talk
about it now," and she bent over her letter again. She raised her head
almost immediately, however.
"And yet, Rosie, I don't know why this is not the best time to say what,
for a long time, I have meant to say. We have not been living a good or
wise life of late. Do you mind, love, what Janet said to us, the night
before we came away? Do you mind the charge she gave us, to keep our
garments unspotted till we meet our father and mother again? Do you
think, dear, the life of pleasure we have been living, will make us more
like what our mother was, more like what our father wished us to be--
more fit to meet them where they are?"
Graeme spoke very earnestly. There were tears in her eyes.
"Graeme," said Rose, "do you think it wrong to go to parties--to dance?
Many good people do not."
"I don't know, love. I cannot tell. It might be right for some people,
and yet quite wrong for us. Certainly, if it withdraws our minds from
things of importance, or is the cause of our neglecting duty, it cannot
be right for us. I am afraid it has been doing this for us all lately."