[Eva Van Arsdel to Isabel Convers.]
My dearest Belle:--Since I last wrote you wondrous things have taken
place, and of course I must keep you _au courant_.
In the first place Mr. Sydney came back to our horizon like a comet in a
blaze of glory. The first harbinger of his return was not himself in
propriâ, but _cards_ for a croquet fête up at Clairmont got up with the
last degree of elegance.
Mr. Sydney, it appears, understands the effect of a gilded frame to set
off a picture, and so resolved to manifest himself to us in all his
surroundings at Clairmont.
The party was to be very select and recherché, and of course everybody
was just wild to go, and the Elmores in particular were on the _qui
vive_ to know if we had invitations before them. Sophia Elmore called
down for nothing but to see. We had all the satisfaction there was to be
got in showing her our cards and letting her know that they had come two
days sooner than theirs. Aunt Maria contrived to give them to understand
that Mr. Sydney gave the entertainment mostly on my account, which I
think was assuming quite too much in the case. I am positively tired of
these mean little rivalries and these races that are run between
families.
It is thought that Sophia Elmore is quite fascinated by Mr. Sydney.
Sophia is a nice, spirited girl, with a good, generous heart as I
believe, and it's a thousand pities she shouldn't have him if she cares
for him.
But, to my story. You may imagine the fuss at Tullegig's. Of course we
belong to the class who live in the enjoyment of "nothing to wear," and
the first result of a projected entertainment is to throw us all on our
knees before Tullegig, who queens it over us accordingly.
I was just dying to find out if _a certain person_ was to be there. Of
late our intercourse has been so very stately and diplomatic that it
really becomes exciting. He has avoided every appearance of intimacy,
every approach to our old confidential standing, and yet apparently for
the life of him cannot keep from taking views of me at safe distance;
so, as I said, it was something to see if he would be there.
As to Clairmont, I think in the course of my life I have seen fine
grounds, fine houses, fine furniture, and fine fêtes before.
Nevertheless I must do Sydney the justice to say that he gave a most
charming and beautiful entertainment where everything was just as lovely
as could be. We went up on a splendid boat to the sound of music. We had
a magnificent lunch under the trees, and there were arrangements for
four games to go on at once, which made a gay and animated tableau. All
the girls wore the prettiest costumes you can imagine, each one seeming
prettier than the other; and when they were all moving about in the game
it made a bright, cheerful effect. Mr. Henderson was there and
distinguished himself to such a degree that he was appointed one of the
four who were to play a match-game, in conclusion, for a prize.
Curiously enough he played with Sophia against Sydney and myself. How we
did fight! Sophie is one of these girls that feel everything to the tips
of their fingers, and I am another, and if we didn't make those men
bestir themselves! I fancy they found women rulers were of a kind to
keep men pretty busy.
I can imagine the excitement we women would make of an election if we
should ever get into politics. Would we not croquet our adversaries'
balls, and make stunning split-shots in parties, and wire ourselves
artfully behind wickets, and do all sorts of perplexing things? I
confess if the excitement should get to be half as great as in playing
croquet, I should tremble to think of it.
Well, it was some excitement at all events to play against each other,
he and I. Didn't I seek out his ball, didn't I pursue it, beat it back
from wickets, come on it with most surprising and unexpected shots?
Sophie fought with desperation on the other side, and at last they
seemed to have carried the day, there was but one stroke wanting to put
them out; they had killed Sydney at the stake and banished me to the
farthest extremity of the ground. Mamma always said I had the genius for
emergencies, and if you'll believe me I struck quite across the ground
and hit Sophie's ball and sent it out, and then I took _his_ back to
make my two last wickets with, and finally with an imposing _coup de
théâtre_ I croqueted him to the other end of the ground, and went out
amid thunders of applause. He took it with great presence of mind, knelt
down and laid the mallet handsomely at my feet, and professed to deliver
himself captive, and I imposed it on him as a task to write a ballad
descriptive of the encounter. So he was shut up for about half an hour
in the library, and came out with a very fine and funny ballad in Chevy
Chase measure describing our exploits, which was read under the trees,
and cheered and encored in the liveliest manner possible.
On the whole, Mr. Henderson may be said to have had quite a society
success yesterday, as I heard him very much admired, and the Elmores
overwhelmed him with pressing invitations to call, to come to their
soirées, etc., etc. You see these Elmores have everything money can buy,
and so they are distracted to be literary, or at least to have literary
people in their train, and they have always been wanting to get
Henderson and Jim Fellows to their receptions. So I heard Mrs. Elmore
overwhelming him with compliments on his poem in a way that quite amused
me, for I knew enough of him to know exactly how all this seemed to
him. He is of all persons one of the most difficult to flatter, and has
the keenest sense of the ridiculous; and Mrs. Elmore's style is as if
one should empty a bushel basket of peaches or grapes on your head
instead of passing the fruit dish.
But I am so busy traducing my neighbors that I forgot to say I won the
croquet prize, which was duly presented. It was a gold croquet mallet
set as a pin with four balls of emerald, amethyst, ruby, and topaz
depending from it. It had quite an Etruscan effect and was very pretty,
but when I saw how much Sophia really took the defeat to heart, my soul
was moved for her and I made a peace-offering by getting her to accept
it. It was not easy at first, but I made a point of it and insisted upon
it with all my logic, telling her that in point of skill she had really
won the game, that my last stroke was only a lucky accident, and you
know I can generally talk people into almost anything I set my heart on,
and so as Sophie was flattered by my estimate of her skill and as the
bauble is a pretty one, I prevailed on her to take it. I am tired and
sick of this fuss between the Elmores and us, and don't mean to have
more of it, for Sophie really is a nice girl, and not a bit more spoiled
than any of the rest of us, notwithstanding all the nonsense of her
family, and she and I have agreed to be fast friends for the future,
whatever may come.
I had one other motive in this move. I never have accepted jewelry from
Sydney, and I was quite willing to be rid of this. If I could only
croquet his heart down to Sophie to use, it might be a nice thing. I
fancy she would like it.
I managed my cards quite adroitly all day to avoid a tête-à-tête
interview with Sydney. I was careful always to be in the center of a
group of two or three, and when he asked me to walk through the
conservatories with him I said, "Come, Amy and Jane," and took them
along.
As to _somebody_ else, _he_ made no attempt of the kind, though I could
see that he _saw_ me wherever I went. Do these creatures suppose we
don't see their eyes, and fancy that they conceal their feelings? I am
perfectly certain that whatever the matter is, he thinks as much of me
as ever he did.
Well, it was moonlight and music all the way home, the band playing the
most heart-breaking, entrancing harmonies from Beethoven and melodies
from Schubert, and then Wat Sydney annoyed me beyond measure by keeping
up a distracting chit-chat when I wanted to be quiet and listen. He
cares nothing for music, and people who don't are like flies, they have
no mercy and never will leave you a quiet moment. The _other one_ went
off and sat by himself, gazed at the moon and heard the music all in the
most proper and romantic style, and looked like a handsome tenor at an
opera.
* * * * *
So far, my dear, the history of our affairs. But something more
surprising than ever you heard has just happened, and I must hasten to
jot it down.
Yesterday afternoon, being worried and wearied with the day before, I
left your letter, as you see, and teased Ida to go out driving with me
in the Park. She had promised Effie St. Clere to sketch some patterns of
arbors and garden seats that are there, for her new place at Fern
Valley, and I had resolved on a lonely ramble to clear my heart and
brain.
Moreover, the last time I was there I saw from one of the bridges a very
pretty cascade falling into a charming little wooded lake in the
distance. I resolved to go in search of this same cascade which is deep
in a shady labyrinth of paths.
Well, it was a most lovely perfect day, and we left our carriage at the
terrace and started off for our ramble, Ida with her sketch-book in
hand. She was very soon hard at work at a rustic summer-house while I
plunged into a woody tangle of paths guided only by the distant sound of
the cascades. It was toward evening and the paths seemed quite solitary,
for I met not a creature. I might really have thought I was among the
ferns and white birches up in Conway, or anywhere in the mountains, it
was so perfectly mossy and wild and solitary. A flock of wild geese
seemed to be making an odd sort of outlandish noise, far in a deep, dark
tangle of bushes, and it appeared to me to produce the impression of
utter solitude more than anything else. Evidently it was a sort of wild
lair seldom invaded. I still heard the noise of the cascade through a
thicket of leaves, but could not get a sight of it. Sometimes it seemed
near and sometimes far off, but at last I thought I hit upon a winding
path that seemed to promise to take me to it. It wound round a declivity
and I could tell by the sound I was approaching the water. I was quite
animated and ran forward till a sudden turn brought me to the head of
the cascade where there was a railing and one seat, and as I came
running down I saw suddenly a man with a book in his hand sitting on
this seat, and it was Mr. Henderson.
He rose up when he saw me and looked pale, but an expression of
perfectly rapturous delight passed over his face as I checked myself
astonished.
"Miss Van Arsdel!" he said. "To what happy fate do I owe this good
fortune!"
I recovered myself and said that "I was not aware of any _particular_
good fortune in the case."
"Not to _you_, perhaps," he said, "but to _me_. I have seen nothing of
you for so long," he added, rather piteously.
"There has been nothing that I am aware of to prevent your seeing me," I
said. "If Mr. Henderson chooses to make himself strange to his friends
it is his own affair." He looked confused and murmured something about
"many engagements and business."
"Mr. Henderson, you will excuse me," said I, resolved not to have this
sort of thing go on any longer. "You have always been treated at our
house as an intimate and valued friend; of late you seem to prefer to
act like a ceremonious stranger."
"Indeed, you mistake me, entirely, Miss Van Arsdel," he said, eagerly.
"You _must_ know my feelings; you _must_ appreciate my reasons; you see
why I cannot and ought not."
"I am quite in the dark as to both," I said. "I cannot see any reason
why we should not be on the old footing, I am sure. You have acted of
late as if you were afraid to meet me; it is all perfectly unaccountable
to me. Why should you do so? What reason can there be?"
"Because," he said, with a sort of desperation, "because I _love_ you,
Miss Van Arsdel. Because I always shall love you too well to associate
with you as the wife or betrothed bride of another man."
"There is no occasion you should, Mr. Henderson. I am not, so far as I
understand, either wife or betrothed to any man," I said.
He looked perfectly thunderstruck.
"Yet I heard it from the best authority."
"From what authority?" said I, "for I deny it."
"Your mother."
"My mother?" I was thunderstruck in my turn; here it was to be sure.
Poor mamma! I saw through the whole mystery.
"Your mother told me," he went on, "that there was a tacit engagement
which was to be declared on Mr. Sydney's return, and cautioned me
against an undue intimacy."
"My mother," I said, "has done her utmost to persuade me to this
engagement. I refused Mr. Sydney out and out in the beginning. She
persuaded me to allow him to continue his attentions in hope of changing
my mind, but it never has changed."
He grew agitated and spoke very quickly.
"Oh, tell me, Miss Van Arsdel, if _I_ may hope for success in making the
same effort?"
"I shouldn't be surprised if you might," said I.
There followed a sort of electric flash and a confusion of wild words
after this--really my dear I cannot remember half what he said--only the
next I knew, somehow, we were walking arm in arm together.
"What a talk we had, and what a walk up and down those tangled alleys!
going over everything and explaining everything. It was a bright long
twilight and the great silver moon rose upon us while yet we were
talking. After a while I heard Ida calling up and down the paths for me.
She came up and met us with her sketch-book under her arm."
"Ida, we're engaged, Harry and I," I said.
"So I thought," she said, looking at us kindly and stretching out both
hands.
I took one and he the other.
"Do you think I have any chance with your parents?" asked Harry.
"I think," said Ida, "that you will find trouble at first, but you may
rely on Eva, she will never change; but we must go home."
"Yes," said I, "it would not do to introduce the matter by getting up a
domestic alarm and sending a party to drag the lake for us; we must
drive home in a peaceable, orderly manner," and so, it being agreed
among us that I should try my diplomatic powers on mamma first, and
Harry should speak to papa afterward, we drove home.
Well, now Belle, it is all over--the mystery I mean; and the struggle
with the powers, that bids to begin. How odd it is that marriage, which
is a thing of all others most personal and individual, is a thing where
all your friends want you to act to please them!
Mamma probably in her day felt toward papa just as I feel, but I am sure
she will be drowned in despair that I cannot see Wat Sydney with her
eyes, and that I do choose to see Harry with mine. But it isn't mamma
that is to live with him, it is _I_; it is my fearful venture for life,
not hers. I am to give the right to have and to hold _me_ till life's
end. When I think of that I wonder I am not afraid to risk it with any
man, but with him I am not. I know him so intimately and trust him so
entirely.
What a laugh I gave him last night, telling him how foolishly he had
acted; he likes to have me take him off, and seemed perfectly astonished
that I had had the perspicuity to read his feelings. These men, my dear,
have a kind of innocent stupidity in matters of this kind that is
refreshing!
Well, if I am not mistaken, there was one blissful individual sent home
in New York last night, notwithstanding the terrors of the '_stern
parents_,' that are yet to be encountered.
How I do chatter on! Well, my dear Belle, you see I have kept my word. I
always told you that I would let you know when I was engaged, the very
first of any one, and now here it is. You may make the most of it and
tell whom you please, for I shall never change. I am as firm as Ben
Lomond.
Ever your loving EVA.