PAUL SEES HIS MOTHER'S NECKLACE.
Before Rose left the parlor she was so frightened and subdued by her
mother's stern reprimands, that all idea of appealing for help forsook
her. So she ran desperately into a closet connected with her mother's
chamber, fell upon the floor, and cried herself to sleep, with her
flushed cheeks resting on two round arms, folded helplessly on the bare
boards.
Toward night, Mrs. Mason came up-stairs, looking haughty and excited.
Without heeding the child, who lay just within the closet, with her
curls scattered over the threshold of the door, she began to open trunks
and bureaus, from which she drew first a heavy silk dress, which just
escaped being white by a tinge of pearl gray, some gossamer laces, and
other indications of an elaborate toilet. Then she let down her
magnificent hair, brushed out its glossy waves, and began to braid it;
stopping now and then to rest her arms on the table before her, and
sighing heavily, as if it required all her energies to keep up that
proud show of strength.
After wreathing these heavy braids around her head in the form of a
coronet, she arose and went to the closet for something. Lo, there was
her child prone upon the floor, disturbed by her approach, and moaning
at her feet.
A person who deliberately does wrong, is almost sure to be angry at any
thing calculated to touch the conscience. Mrs. Mason's cheeks flushed
and her eyes flashed at the sight of little Rose. She was tempted to
spurn the child with her foot, but restrained herself, only touching the
bare, white shoulder, with the point of her slipper.
"Get up, child. Get up. What on earth are you doing here?"
The touch awoke Rose. She started to her feet, and tried to shrink away.
"Stop, you naughty, disobedient child!" cried the mother, seizing her by
the shoulder. "You don't deserve it; but see what a beautiful present
Mr. Thrasher has brought you--coral and pure gold--for your arms and
neck. There, Rosey posey, don't it make your eyes dance?"
The little girl's eyes did sparkle for a moment, but directly they
filled with tears.
"No, mother; it's very pretty, but I don't want any thing," she said,
timidly.
The mother frowned.
"Go to Mrs. Prior this instant," she said; "tell her to dress you in the
India muslin frock that I gave out to be done up. Loop the sleeves with
this coral. Mind and let Mr. Thrasher see it on your neck and arms. Oh,
Mrs. Prior, I'm glad you've come! Please have this child properly
dressed. There are the ornaments; go, Rose, I have no time to spare; be
a good girl, and look pretty to please mother."
"I'll--I'll try," sobbed the child, "only don't make me wear them."
"Hush, or you'll make me angry, my dear. Mrs. Prior, if you would hurry
with her, and help me a little, I really am so nervous."
"No wonder," answered Mrs. Prior, gravely, "the whole thing is so
sudden."
"Not with me," was the cold answer. "The day was settled the last time
Mr. Thrasher visited us; but I did not think it necessary to make it a
subject of conversation with strangers."
"But we might have been better prepared," said Mrs. Prior.
"Not at all necessary, as we go away in an hour after the ceremony is
performed."
"Go away, Mrs. Mason?"
"Certainly."
"And little Rose?"
The good woman's voice trembled.
"Ah, she will stay with you, heaven only knows how long! that is, if you
will keep her--say at the price we have been paying for both. She will
have the piano for practice, and you can keep the furniture to remember
me by."
"You are very kind."
"Not at all; I know you will be good to Rose."
"Indeed I will!"
"And give her every accomplishment. Remember, money is of no
consequence."
"That which you offer is more than enough to pay for all the knowledge
or accomplishments I can teach," said the little woman, conscientiously.
"If it isn't, say so, and we'll double it," answered Mrs. Mason, with
reckless munificence. "There is gold enough in my work-box there to pay
for three or four years, if we do not send for her before that. You can
take box and all after we're gone, for I shall leave all these things
behind; it's too much trouble to pack them up. Use what you like, and
cut over the rest for Rose--the dresses, I mean. That brown silk for
travelling will be all I shall care for after the ceremony is over."
"I hardly know how to receive this liberality," said the little woman,
with tears in her eyes. "It don't seem right to accept it."
"Oh, nonsense! Be a mother to Rose, and seem glad to see us when we come
after her. You have been very kind to me, Mrs. Prior, and I feel it now,
indeed I do."
There was a touch of genuine feeling in Mrs. Mason's voice, as she bent
forward and kissed Mrs. Prior on the cheek, with lips that were red and
dewy as rose-buds. In her selfishness, she had not noticed Rose, who
stood clinging to Mrs. Prior's dress, growing paler and paler at each
word.
"Mother, are you going to leave me all alone!"
There was so much of sorrow in the child's voice that it reached even
that vain heart.
"Never mind, Rosey, dear," said the mother, kissing the pale lips of her
child. "It wont be long; besides, Mrs. Prior loves you dearly, and will
be very kind."
"Indeed I will, darling," sobbed the little woman. "So now cheer up,
Rose, and run off to be dressed," added the mother, beginning to tire of
the scene; "do try and help me, Mrs. Prior, and see that your husband is
ready; there must be no delay, for we have a long ride before us."
Mrs. Prior hurried off with Rose to her own private room, and in a
marvellous short time the little girl came forth airy as a butterfly.
The red coral glowing on her face and neck, the India muslin floating
around her like a cloud.
Rose met Paul in the upper passage. He was looking sadly troubled. She
went toward him and laid her hand in his.
"You are going?" he said, interpreting the act from his fears.
"No, _they_ are going, Paul, but I am to be left behind."
The boy began to smile.
"And Mrs. Prior will be your mother?" he said.
"Yes."
"Ah! I'm so happy, so glad; let me go tell Jube."
He attempted to descend the stairs but came back again.
"One thing, Rose. I should like to see this gentleman, Captain
Thrasher."
"Well, he's in the parlor."
"But I don't want him to see me."
"Oh, then I can't help you, Paul--there's no way."
Paul looked disappointed. That moment Mrs. Prior came toward them from
Mrs. Mason's room.
"What is the matter, Paul?" she inquired, kindly.
"Oh, nothing," answered Rose, "only he wants to see that hateful man."
"For shame, Rose!"
"Well, he wants to see Captain Thrasher, and he don't want Captain
Thrasher to see him!" persisted Rose, shaking her head with pretty
defiance.
"He wants to see a marriage--is that it?" said Mrs. Prior, whose kind
heart was always prompting her to the pleasure of others. "And you would
like to have a peep at this wedding? Rose, you will go into the room;
but it is to be very private, you know, and I can't let you in, Paul."
"No, no, I do not wish--I only want to see," cried the boy, eagerly; "I
and Jube--one little minute, that is all."
Mrs. Prior smiled and dropped into a moment's thought.
"Well," she said, "as you have set your heart upon it, Paul, there can
be no harm in letting you see them married so long as it disturbs no
one. There is the door between the parlor and dining-room; the upper
half is glass. Just lift the curtain softly and look through; but
remember, there must be no talking about it. The whole thing is to be
kept secret."
"I will not speak to any one, be sure," said Paul.
"Well, be in your room and I will call you at the right time," said Mrs.
Prior; "but hurry away, now, for she'll be going down-stairs in a
minute."
Paul went to his room. Scarcely had he disappeared when Mrs. Mason came
forth; the thick silken folds of her dress rustling sumptuously, and
with a carcanet of gems flashing its tinted flame over the snow of her
neck and shoulders.
When Rose saw her mother the color died from her face and she shivered
as if with cold. Mrs. Mason was too much excited to heed this. Taking
the little hand in hers, she led the child down-stairs, sweeping through
the hall like a sultana.
Mrs. Prior was struck with admiration at the splendor of her beauty, but
depressed by this display of magnificence for a wedding which was to be
strictly private. Her own refined taste revolted at the incongruity.
Indeed, Mrs. Mason herself seemed to feel something of this, for she
blushed even while giving her head a proud lift, and observed, in a low
voice:
"He would insist upon it. Nothing is rich enough to satisfy him."
Paul found Jube in his room when he entered it.
"Be ready," he said. "We shall soon know if it is the same man."
"But he may claim us, and say that I am his slave again," said Jube,
anxiously.
"He will not see us. There, I hear the minister going down. Be ready.
Madame is coming to call us."
Mrs. Prior opened the door, and said: "Come," in a quick, nervous
whisper.
Paul and Jube followed her into the dining-room. A crimson curtain hung
over the sash which filled the upper part of the door. Mrs. Prior drew
it slightly inward, leaving a crevice on each side, through which Paul
and Jube could see all that went forward in the parlor without fear of
observation.
The couple who were to be married, sat out of range of the window, and
at first they only saw the minister saying something in a low voice to
Mrs. Prior. She went out and returned with the servant girl, who hung
shyly around the door, as if doubtful of the part she was called upon to
perform. Then there was a rustling of silk, a general movement, and Paul
saw the tyrant of his sea-life standing before the minister, with Mrs.
Mason's hand clasped in his. He saw more--for the Venetian blinds fell
apart, and a gleam of sunshine quivered across the gems upon the bride's
neck. A shudder passed over him, he clung to a neighboring chair for
support, and breathlessly looked on. Every word of that awful
ceremony--for it was awful to him--fell upon the boy's heart. When it
was ended, and the woman turned to the full light, a sick faintness
crept over him, and he fell into Jube's arms perfectly insensible. The
sight of his mother's necklace had overpowered the boy with terrible
memories.