FURTHER CONSULTATIONS.
After the departure of her mother, Eva in vain tried to compose herself
to sleep. Her cheeks were flushed, and her brain was in a complete
whirl. Her mother had said and hinted just enough about the financial
condition of the family to fill her with vague alarms. She walked
uneasily up and down her luxurious chamber, all whose appointments spoke
of wealth and taste; and it was with an unpleasant feeling of insecurity
that she regarded the pictures and statues and sofas, and all the
charming arrangements, in perfecting which her father had always allowed
her _carte blanche_ as to money. She reflected uneasily, that in making
all these expensive arrangements, she had ordered simply what pleased
her fancy, without inquiry as to price, and without ever glancing over a
bill to know the result; and now, she found herself affianced to a young
man without any other resources than those which must come from the
exertion of his talents, seconded by prudence and economy. And here,
again, offered to her acceptance, was another marriage, which would
afford her the means of gratifying every taste, and of continuing to
live in all those habits of easy luxury and careless expenses that she
could not but feel were very agreeable to her. Not for one moment did
she feel an inclination, or a temptation, to purchase that luxury, and
that ease, by the sale of herself; but still, when she thought of her
lover--of the difficulties that he must necessarily meet, of the cares
which she must bring upon him--she asked herself, "Was it not an act of
injustice to him to burden him with so incapable and helpless a wife, as
she feared she should prove?"
"But I _am not_ incapable," she said to herself, "and I _will not_ be
helpless. I have strength in me, and I will use it; I will show that I
am good for something. I wonder if it is true that papa is embarrassed.
If he is, I wish he would trust us; I wish he would tell us at once, and
let us help him economize. I would do it; I am sure we all would do it."
It was in vain, under the pressure of these thoughts, to try to compose
herself to sleep; and, at last, she passed into her sister Ida's room,
who, with her usual systematic regularity as to hours, had for a long
time been in the enjoyment of quiet slumber.
"Ida, dear!" she said, stooping over and speaking to her sister, "Ida,
look here!"
Ida opened her eyes, and sat up in bed. "Why Eva, child, not gone to bed
yet? What is the matter with you? You will certainly ruin your health
with these irregular hours."
"Oh Ida, I am so nervous I can't sleep! I am sorry to disturb you, but,
indeed, I want to talk to you about something that worries me; and you
know you are always gone before I am up in the morning."
"Well, dear, what is it?" said Ida, stroking her head.
"Do you know mamma has just been into my room with a letter from Mr.
Sydney. He is coming into the field again, and has written to mamma, and
mamma has been in talking to me till I am just ready to cry. Now, Ida,
you know all that took place between Mr. Henderson and me yesterday in
the Park; we are engaged, are we not, as much as two people can be?"
"Certainly you are," said Ida, decisively.
"Well now, mamma is so distressed and disappointed."
"You told her about it, then?" said Ida.
"Certainly; yes, I told her all about it; and oh, Ida! what do you
think? mamma really made me feel as if something dreadful was going to
happen in the family, that papa was getting embarrassed in his business,
and perhaps we might all fail and come to ruin if I did not help him by
marrying Mr. Sydney. Now, do you think it would be right for me? It
certainly can not be my duty!"
"Ask yourself that question," said Ida; "think what you must promise and
vow in marriage."
"To be sure! and how wicked it would be to promise and vow all that to
one man when I _know_ that I love another one better!"
"Then," said Ida, "asking a woman to take false marriage vows to save
her family, or her parents from trouble, is just like asking her to
steal money, or forge a false note to save them. Eva, you cannot do it."
"Well," said Eva, "that is what I told mamma. But, Ida dear, is it
really true, do you think, that papa is troubled in his business?"
"Papa is not a man that would speak freely to any woman on business
matters," said Ida, "not even to me; but I know that his liabilities and
ventures are terrific; and nothing would surprise me less than to have
this whole air-castle that we have been living in dissolve like a
morning mist, and let us down on the pavement. All I have to say is,
that if it comes it is just what I have been preparing for all my life.
I have absolutely refused to be made such a helpless doll as young girls
in our position commonly are. I have determined that I would keep my
faculties bright, and my bodily health firm and strong; and that all
these luxuries should not become a necessity to me, so but what I could
take care of myself, and take care of others, without them. And all I
have to say is, if a crash comes it will find _me_ ready, and it won't
crush me."
"But, Ida, don't you think it would be a great deal better if we would
all begin now to economize, and live very differently? Why, I am sure I
would be willing to move out of this house, and rent it, or sell it, and
live in a smaller one, and give up the carriages and horses. We could
live a great deal cheaper and more quietly than we do, and yet have
everything that I care about. Yes, I'd even rather sell the
pictures--all except a few--and feel safe and independent, than to live
in this sort of glittering, uncertain way, and be pressed to marry a man
that I do not love, for the sake of getting out of it."
"Well, dear," said Ida, "you never will get Aunt Maria to let ma stop
running this race with the Elmores till the last gun fires, and the ship
is ready to sink; that's the whole of it. It is _what people will say_,
and the thought of being pitied by their set, and being beaten in the
race, that will go further than anything else. If you talk about any
drawing in of expenses, they say that we must not do anything of the
sort--that it will injure papa's credit. Now I know enough of what
things cost, and what business estimates are, to know that we are
spending at a tremendous rate. If we had an entailed estate settled upon
us with an annual income of two or three hundred thousand dollars, there
might be some sense in living as we do; but when all depends on the
value of stocks that are going up to-day and down to-morrow, there is
never any knowing what may happen; and _that_ is what I have always
felt. Father made a lucky hit by investing in stocks that doubled, and
trebled, and quadrupled in value; but now, there is a combination
against them, and they are falling. I know it gives father great
anxiety; and, as I said before, I should not wonder in the
least--nothing would surprise me less, than that we should have a great
crisis one of these times."
"Poor Harry!" said Eva, "it was the thought of my being an heiress that
made him hesitate so long; perhaps he'll have a chance to take me
without that obstacle. Ida, do you think it would be right and just in
me to let him take such an inefficient body as I am? Am I quite spoiled,
do you think--past all redemption?"
"Oh, no, darling!" said Ida; "I have good hopes of you. In the first
place, a woman that has strength of mind enough to be true to her love
against all the pressure that has been brought to bear on you, has
strength of mind to do anything that may be required of her. Of course,
dear, it will come to the practical point of living in an entirely
different style from what we now live in; and you must count the cost.
In the first place, you must give up fashionable society altogether. You
must consent to be pitied and wondered at as one that has fallen out of
her sphere and gone down in the world. All the Mrs. Grundys will stop
calling on you; and you won't have any turn-out in the Park; and you may
have to take a small house on an unfashionable street, and give your
mind to the business of calculating expenses, and watching outgoes and
incomes."
"Well, now, seriously, Ida, I shouldn't mind these things a bit. I don't
care a penny for Mrs. Grundy, nor her works and ways. As to the little
house, there'll be the less care to keep it; and as to its being on an
unfashionable street, what do I care for that? Nobody that I really care
for would fail to come and see me, let me live where I would. And Harry
and I just agree in our views of life. We are not going to live for the
world, but for ourselves and our friends. We'll have the nicest little
home, where every true friend of ours shall feel as much at home as we
do. And don't you think, Ida, that I should make a good manager? Oh! I
know that I could make a house pretty--charming--on ever so little
money, just as I get up a Spring hat, sometimes, out of odds and ends;
and I quite like the idea of having it to do. Of course, poor papa, I
don't want him to fail; and I hope he won't; but I'm something like you,
Ida, if all should go to ruin, I feel as if I could stand up, now, that
I have got Harry to stand up with me. We can begin quietly at first, and
make our fortune together. I have thought of ever so many things that I
could do for him to help him. Do you know, Ida,--(I rather guess you'll
laugh)--that I brought home his gloves and mended them this very
evening? I told him I was going to begin to take care of him. You see
I'll make it cheaper for him in a thousand ways--I know I can. He never
shall find me a burden. I am quite impatient to be able to show what I
can do."
"To begin, darling," said Ida, "one thing you must do is, to take care
of your body; no late hours to waste your little brain. And so don't you
think you had better go to your room and go quietly to sleep?"
"Oh Ida! I am going to be so good and so regular after to-night; but
to-night, you know, is a kind of exception. Girls don't get engaged
every day of their lives, and so you must forgive me if I do make a run
upon you to-night. The fact is, what with my talk with Harry this
afternoon, and with mamma to-night, and all the fuss that I see
impending, my eyes are just as wide open as they can be; and I don't
believe I could go to sleep if I were to try. Oh Ida! Harry told me all
about his mother, and all about that handsome cousin of his, that he has
spoken of so many times. Do you know I used to have such worries of mind
about that cousin? I was perfectly sure that she stood in my way. And
now, Ida, I have a most capital idea about her! She wants to go to
France to study, just as you do; and how nice it would be if you could
join company and go together."
"It would be pleasant," said Ida. "I must confess I don't like the idea
of being '_damsel errant_,' wandering off entirely alone in the world;
and if I leave you, darling, I shall want somebody to speak to. But
come, my dear little pussy, you must lie down and shut your eyes, and
say your prayers, and try to go to sleep."
"You darling good little doctor, you," said Eva, "it is too bad of me to
keep you up! There, I will be good--see how good I am! Good night"--and
kissing her sister, she sought her own apartment.