Van Berg had been left to himself but a little time before Stanton
and Mr. Burleigh came out upon the piazza, and the three gentlemen
sat down for a quiet chat.
"Well," remarked mine host, with a sigh of relief such as a pilot
might heave after taking his ship round a perilous point; "well,
thanks to Miss Burton's good sense, the affair has ended without any
trouble. In a house like this, 'Satan is finding mischief still'
whenever my back is turned, and sometimes he threatens to get up
a row right under my nose, as in this instance. I was a 'blarsted
fool,' as our English friends have it, not to know that Mrs.
Chint's drama, although beginning in comedy, might end in tragedy
of my losing some good paying boarders. Still further did
I demonstrate the length of my ears by even imagining it possible
that Miss Burton would take five hundred, or five hundred thousand
dollars in any such circumstances. But the whole thing was done
in a jiffy, and Mrs. Chints was possessed to have her 'tableau
vivant.' Lively picture wasn't it? Still, if Miss Mayhew, when
appealed to by Mrs. Chints, had confirmed my doubts, I would have
tried to stop the nonsense at any cost."
"Did Miss Mayhew advise the step?" asked Stanton.
"Oh, no! She was non-committal. She acted as if it were none of
her affair, save as it might afford her a little amusement. But
these rows are no light matters to us poor publicans, who must
please every one and keep the whole menagerie in order. Mr. Chints
was swearing up and down his room that he had been made a fool of.
Mrs. Chints was for leaving to-morrow morning, declaring that she
would not endure such airs from a school-teacher. They are rich
and have a number of friends who are coming soon, and so my mind
was full of 'strange oaths' also, at my prospective loss, when this
blessed little woman appears, taps at their door, enters like the
angel into the lion's den, and shuts their mouths by some magic
all her own. And now they're going to stay; Mr. Chints will give
the five hundred to the Children's Aid Society, all is serene and
I'm happy, so much so that I'll smoke another of your good cigars,
Mr. Stanton."
"Certainly, half-a-dozen if you wish. How do you imagine she
quieted the unruly beasts?"
"Oh, I suppose she got around them through the child--somewhat as
she won over my wife this afternoon by means of our cross baby.
It's teething, you know--and yet how should you young chaps know
anything about babies! No matter, your time will come. This
promenading the piazza with lovely creatures who have been half the
afternoon at their toilets is all very nice; but wait till you have
weathered innumerable squalls in the dead of night--then you'll
learn that teething-time in a household is like going around Cape
Horn. Well, to return from your future to my present. When so
good-natured a man as I am gets into a sympathetic mood with old
King Herod, you can imagine what a state the mother's nerves must be
in who has to stand it night and day. But as Miss Burton had been
commended to my care, I felt that I was in duty bound to introduce
her to my wife and show her some attention. So I said to my wife,
this afternoon, 'I'm going to bring a young lady in to see you.'
'Do you think I'm in a condition to entertain company?' she asked,
with a faint suggestion of hard cider in her tone. 'Well, my
dear,' I expostulated, 'it was just the same yesterday, and will
be a little more so to-morrow, and I feel that I shall be remiss
if I delay any longer.' 'Oh, very well,' she said, as if it were
a tooth that must come out sooner or later, 'since the matter must
be attended to, let us have it over at once.' But bless you, it
wasn't over till supper-time. As I brought the young lady in, the
baby waked out of a five-minutes' nap that had cost about an hour's
rocking, and I thought the roof would come off. My wife looked
cross and worried--well, it was prose, gentlemen, prose--not the
poetry of life; and I said to myself, 'I suppose I have about made
it certain that this young woman will live and die an old maid by
giving her this glimpse behind the scenes. I thought the ladies
could get on better without me than with me, so I bowed myself out,
glad to escape the din; and I supposed Miss Burton would say a few
pleasant things in the direction of Mrs. Burleigh, which she, poor
woman, might not be able to hear, and then she would bow herself
out, also glad to escape. An hour and a half later I went back to
see if I could not coax my wife away for a drive, and what do you
suppose I saw?"
"The baby in convulsions," said Stanton.
"Give it up," added Van Berg.
"Sweet transformation scene; deep hush; my wife asleep in her
rocking-chair, the baby asleep in the arms of Miss Burton, who
held up a warning finger at me to be quiet. But the mischief was
done; my wife started up and was mortified beyond measure that she
had treated her guest so rudely. The good fairy, however, was so
genuinely delighted that she had quieted the baby and given the
tired mother a little rest, that we had to come to the conclusion
that she found pleasure in ways that are a trifle uncommon. By
some miracle or other she kept the baby asleep, and then my wife
and I tried to entertain her a little, but we were the ones that
were entertained. Before we knew it, the supper-bell rang, and
then I'm blessed if the little chap didn't wake up and grin at us
all. To think then that I should reward her by letting Mr. Chints
slap her face with a five-hundred-dollar check! I guess we'll all
know better next time."
"Did she tell you anything further about her history or her
connections?" asked Stanton.
Mr. Burleigh stroked his beard and looked rather blank for a moment.
"Now I think of it," he ejaculated, "I be hanged if she said a word
about herself. And now I think further of it, she somehow or other
got Mrs. Burleigh and myself a-talking, and seemed so interested
in us and what we said, that I be hanged again if we didn't tell
her all we know about ourselves."
"She impresses every one as being remarkably frank, and yet I
think it will be found that she is peculiarly reticent in regard
to herself," remarked Van Berg musingly. "Well, it's not often I
take people on trust, but I have given this lady my entire respect
and confidence."
"I assure you that there is no trust in this business," said Mr.
Burleigh, emphatically. "I can't afford to indulge in sentiment,
gentlemen; besides, it couldn't be any more becoming in me than in
Tom Chints. I wouldn't take an unprotected, unknown female into
my house if she came with a pair of wings. But Miss Burton brings
letters that establish her character as a lady as truly as that
of any other woman in the house. I ought to have prevented this
Chints business, but then five hundred is a nice little plum, and
before I pulled my slow wits together the thing was done."
"By the way, Mr. Burleigh," remarked Stanton, "I hear that the
parties who are now at my friend Van Berg's table are soon to leave
for the sea-shore. Can you give me three seats there after their
departure?"
"Certainly; put you down right alongside of Miss Burton."
"Perhaps Van Berg feels that he has the first claim to so good a
position?"
"No, Stanton, I shall not place a straw in your way."
"You never were a man of straw, Van. If I were seeking more than
to enjoy the society of this young lady, who seems to be embodied
sunshine, I would be sorry to have you place yourself in the way."
"Sunshine brought to a focus kindles even green wood," remarked
Van Berg, with a significant nod at his friend.
"Well," said Mr. Burleigh, rising, "if I had not found my mate, I'd
be a burr that that little woman wouldn't get rid of very easily.
Good-night, gentlemen. I'll give either one of you my blessing."
"Good-night, Van," said Stanton, also. "I'm not going to stay and
listen to your absurd predictions. Neither shall I permit you to
enjoy all by yourself the delicate wine of that woman's wit. When
good things are passing round, I propose to have my share. My
presence can't hurt your prospects."
"And if it did, Ik, do you think me such a churl as to try to crowd
you away?"
"That's magnanimous. I suppose you and my cousin can manage to
keep the peace between you."
"I think the change will be far more disagreeable to Miss Mayhew
than to me."
"You are very polite to say so. Good-night."
"Well," mused Van Berg, when left to himself; "I've made progress
to-day after a fashion. We have been quite thoroughly introduced--in
fact 'thrown together,' as fate and all her friends will have it.
I might have been weeks in gaining as much insight into her character
as circumstances have given me in a few brief hours. But what
a miserable revelation she has made of herself--cowardice this
morning--fraud this afternoon, and cold selfishness, that can
amuse itself with the mortification and misfortunes of others, this
evening. This is the moral side of the picture. But when I came
to 'speer' around to see whether she had any mind or real culture,
the exhibition was still more pitiable. Ye gods! that a girl can
live to her age and know so little that is worth knowing! She
knows how to dress--that is, how to enhance her physical beauty;
and that, I admit, is a great deal. As far as it goes it is well.
But of the taste of a beautiful and, at the same time, intellectual
and highly cultivated woman, she has no conception; with her it is
a question of flesh and blood only."
"I wonder if it will ever be otherwise? I wonder if her marvellous
beauty, which is now like a budding rose, that partly conceals the
worm in its heart, will soon, like the overblown flower, reveal
so clearly what mars its life that scarcely anything else will be
noticed. What a fate for a man--to be tied for life to a woman
who will, with sure gradation, pass from at least outward beauty
to utter hideousness! Beauty, in a case like this, is but a mask
which time or the loathsome fingers of disease would surely strip
off; and then what an object would confront the disenchanted lover!
It would be like marrying a disguised death's-head. Never before
did I realize how essential is mental and moral culture to give
value to mere external beauty.
"And yet she seems to have a kind of quickness and aptness. She is
not wanting in womanly intuition. I still am inclined to believe
she has been dwarfed by circumstances and her wretched associations.
Her mind has been given no better means of development than
the knowledge of her beauty, the general and superficial homage
that it always receives, the little round of thought that centres
about self, and the daily question of dress. That's narrowing the
world down to a cage large enough only for a poll-parrot. If the
bird within has a parrot's nature, what is the use of opening the
door and showing it larks singing in the sky? I fear that's what
I'm trying to do, and that I shall go back to my fall work with a
meagre portfolio and a grudge against nature, for mocking me with
the fairest broken promise ever made."