AN OBJECT FOR SYMPATHY
Miss Wildmere's indignant virtue was not soothed on the following
morning, when, as she returned from a drive with Arnault, Graydon
galloped up on a superb bay horse, and Madge so far forgot herself
again as to rush to meet him with unaffected pleasure. The champion
of propriety paused in the distance to take an observation, for she
thought she saw a cloud in the sky.
"What a beauty! what a grand arch of the neck he has! Oh, I'm just
wild to be on him! Don't bribe me with horses, Graydon; I can resist
anything else."
"I am glad of the information. A volume of thanks would not be worth
half so much."
"I thought the thanks were in my tone and manner."
"So I thought, and am more than content; but, Madge, I am troubled
about your riding him. I fear he is a very Satan of a horse."
"Nonsense! Wait till you see me mounted, and your fears will vanish.
People don't walk at Santa Barbara; they ride; every one rides. If the
horse don't tumble, there'll be no tumbling on my part. Oh, he is such
a splendid fellow! What shall I call him?"
"Better call him 'Go.' There is more go in him than in any horse I
ever bestrode."
"All the better. I shall give him another name, however. It will
come to me sometime;" and she patted the proud neck, and fondled
the tossing head, in a way to excite the envy of observers from the
piazza. "Oh, Graydon, what shall I do for a saddle? Do you think there
is one to be had in this region? I'm impatient for a gallop."
"I telegraphed, early this morning, for equipments; and they should be
here this afternoon."
"That was considerate kindness itself. You must let me pay for all
this. You know I can."
"So can I."
"But there's reason in all things."
"Therefore, a little in me. Please, Madge, don't make me feel that
I am almost a stranger to you. If we had remained together, I should
have paid out more than this for candy, flowers, and nonsense. I have
yielded everything, haven't I? and, as Mary says, I do wish to feel a
little like one of the family."
"Well, then," she said, laughing and blushing, "as from one of the
family--"
"And from your deceased brother," he interrupted.
She put her finger to her lips. "That's past," she said. "No more
allusions. We began sensibly last night, and I certainly am very
lenient now in taking gifts that I should protest against even from
Henry. I wish to prove to you that I am the Madge of old times as far
as I can be."
"Rest assured I'm the same fellow, and ever shall be."
He had dismounted, and they were walking slowly toward the stable.
"Bless me!" cried Madge, "where am I going with no better protection
than a sunshade? I'm always a little off when a horse like that is at
hand. I say, Graydon," she added, in a wheedling tone, "mount and
put him through his paces. I can't resist the fun, no matter what the
dowagers say."
He vaulted lightly into the saddle, and the horse reared and dashed
toward the stable, but was soon pulled up. Then Graydon made him
prance, curvet, and trot, Madge looking on with parted lips, and eyes
glowing with delicious anticipation. If a close observer had been
present he might have seen that the rider, with his fine easy grace
and mastery, was, after all, the chief attraction.
She walked back to the house, thinking, "I'll have some bright hours
before the skies grow gray. Oh, kindly fate! prosper Mr. Arnault here
and in Wall Street, too, for all I care."
"Oh, Mr. Muir, teach me to ride," said Miss Wildmere, when he joined
her in the deserted parlor. "You have such a superb horse! and you sat
on him as if you were a part of him."
"I will teach you with pleasure," said Graydon. "Nothing would give me
more enjoyment, for I am very fond of riding, and we could explore the
mountain roads far and near."
"Can I ride your horse?"
"That was not my horse. He belongs to Miss Alden."
"Oh, indeed," began Miss Wildmere, hastily, yet coldly; "I wouldn't
think of it, then."
"She would lend him to you readily, if it were safe; but only an
expert should ride that horse. As it is, I shall run him four or five
miles before I let her mount him. He is awfully high-strung and a
little vicious. I'll get you a quiet, safe lady's horse, suitable for
a beginner. You will soon acquire confidence and skill. I wouldn't
have you incur any risks for all the world."
"Wouldn't you?" she asked, with a fascinating and incredulous smile.
"You know well that I would not."
"I shall scarcely know what I know when I see you galloping away with
Miss Alden."
"Come, Miss Stella, we may as well get through with that phase of the
question at once. Madge Alden came into our family when I was scarcely
more than a boy, and she but a child. She is still one of the family.
The idea of your being concerned about her makes me smile audibly. I
only wish you girls would be good friends. It would save awkwardness
and embarrassment. Madge is a sister to me in everything but name, and
ever will be. I'm proud of her, as I ought to be, and a distant manner
would be absurd toward a member of our household. Why should I affect
it when I'm truly fond of her jolly good company? Don't you think I am
setting you a good example? I'm patient over your good times with Mr.
Arnault, who is an open suitor."
"I have not said they were good times."
"Nor have you said they were not. He evidently enjoys them, and little
wonder. You can make any fellow have a good time without trying. I
don't pretend to understand the necessity of your being so friendly,
or tolerant, or what you will, with him; neither do I pry or question.
My regard for you makes trust imperative. I do trust you as readily as
you should trust me. What else can we do till times are better?"
"What do you mean by saying, 'till times are better?'" she asked,
in gentle solicitude. "Are you having a hard time in town, like poor
papa?"
"Oh, bless you! no. I don't suppose Henry is making much. He's the
kind of man to take in sail in times like these. I'm not in the
firm yet, you know, but shall be soon. My foreign department of the
business is all right. I left it snug and safe. Of course, I don't
know much about things on this side of the water yet. Mr. Muir is not
the kind of man to speak to any one about his affairs unless it is
essential, but if anything were amiss he would have told me. I know
the times are dismal, and I am better off on my assured salary than if
in the firm now. No one but 'bears' are making anything."
"I hope your brother isn't in anxiety, like papa," she said, warmly.
His quick commercial instinct took alarm, and he asked, "What, have
you heard anything?"
"Oh, no indeed. Papa says that Mr. Muir is one of the most
conservative of men; but he also says that there is scarcely a chance
now for any honest man, and that investments which once seemed as
solid as these mountains are sinking out of sight. If it wasn't so we
shouldn't be so worried. He wouldn't like it if he knew I was talking
to you in this way; but then I know it will go no further, and
naturally my mind dwells on the subject of his anxieties. What
wouldn't I do to help him!" she concluded, with a fine enthusiasm.
"I think you are doing a great deal to help him, Stella," he said,
gravely and gently; "and, believe me, it involves no little sacrifice
on my part also."
"But you have promised to be patient, Graydon."
"I have, but you cannot think that I like it or approve of the
diplomacy you are compelled to practice, even though your motive be
unselfish and filial. I don't think you ought to be placed in such a
position, and would that it were in my power to relieve you from it!"
Tears of self-commiseration came into her eyes, and they appeared to
him exceedingly pathetic. She made as if she would speak but could
not, then retreated hastily to her room. Once in seclusion she dashed
the drops away, her eyes glittered with anger, and she stamped her
foot on the floor and muttered: "It is indeed an abominable position.
I might accept Graydon any day, any hour, now, and dare not. Yet if
he gets an inkling of my real attitude he'll be off forever. He is as
proud as Lucifer about some things, and would be quick as a flash
if his suspicions were aroused. Even the belief that I am humoring
Arnault for papa's sake tests his loyalty greatly. If I have to refuse
him at last I shall be placed in an odious light. The idiots! why
can't they find out whether Henry Muir is going to fail or not! That
horrid Madge Alden is not his sister, and knows it, and she is gaining
time to make impressions. I know how she felt years ago, when she was
a perfect spook. I don't believe she's changed. With all her impulsive
ways she's as deep as perdition, and she'd flirt with him to spite
me, if nothing more. Papa said last night that I had better accept
Arnault. I won't accept him till I must, and he'll rue his success if
he wins it." Then the mirror reflected a lovely creature dissolved in
tears.
Again she soliloquized: "I can't accept a horse from Graydon; Arnault
would never submit to it. The receiving of such a present would
compromise me at once. It does not matter so much what I say or look
in private; this proves nothing to the world, and I see more and more
clearly that Arnault will not permit his pride to be humiliated. He
will endure what he calls a fair, open suit philosophically, but the
expression of his eyes makes me shiver sometimes. Was ever a girl
placed in such a mean and horrible position! I won't endure this
shilly-shally much longer. If they can't prove something more definite
against the Muirs, I'll accept Graydon. Papa is just horrid! Why can't
he make more in Wall Street? There must be ways, and any way is as
respectable as the one I may be compelled to take. Well, if I do have
to accept Arnault I'll make Graydon think that I had to do so for
papa's sake, and we'll become good friends again before long. Perhaps
this would be the best way in the end, for papa looked wildly, and
spoke of a tenement-house last night. Tenement! Great heavens! I'd
sooner die."