CHAPTER IX.

"THE OTHER SET."

The minister and his wife were scarcely host and hostess on this

occasion, as a self-appointed committee of ladies had taken upon

themselves the duty; but, like all corporations, this committee had

no soul and a very indefinite body. No one knew just who they were,

or where to find them, and some of the members, in the bewilderment

of unaccustomed official position and honors, seemed to have lost

themselves, and bustled aimlessly all over the house. The more staid

and practical sisters of the committee were down in the kitchen,

breathlessly setting tables which were almost as speedily cleared

by people whose appetites were as keen as the winter night without.

"I do declare," ejaculated Mrs. Gubling, as one devastating tableful

rose lingeringly from the repast, and another flock began to gather

in hungry expectancy at the door,--"I do declare, I'm near beat

out. Is this a starvin' community? At this rate they'll eat up

all there is in the house, and the minister and his wife and babies

into the bargain."

"Well," said Mrs. Rhamm, conveying the last bit of corned beef,

which had been reluctantly left upon the plate as "manners," to a

rather capacious mouth, "if they would eat up some of the babies

it wouldn't be so bad. I don't see why poor ministers will have so

many babies."

"The Lord takes care of 'em. We don't," suggested Mrs. Gubling.

"We all do our part, I s'pose. The worst of it is that it makes it

oncomfortable for a church to give a small salary."

"I wish our church was more uncomfortable then. It's a shame we

give Mr. Dlimm only six hundred. But come, if we don't git another

table set they'll eat us up."

"I'd like to see 'em," said Mrs. Rhamm, with a disdainful sniff.

"Well, you be a bit old and tough," chuckled Mrs. Gubling.

With the solace of this sally, which seemed true, if not true wit,

these hard-featured mothers in Israel set about their tasks with

the deftness that long experience gives.

At the time De Forrest conveyed the ladies into the hall, the

upstairs members of the committee were buzzing around somewhere

else, for there was no one to receive them. They were gradually

hustled or carried into the parlor or main room, and here Hemstead

and Harcourt found them in characteristic conditions. Addie's and

De Forrest's elegant noses were decidedly retrousses; Bel appeared

both disgusted and frightened; while Lottie's face wore an expression

of intense and amused curiosity. She was seeing "the other set" to

her heart's content, and all was as new and strange as if she had

visited another land.

Harcourt joined Addie, and they began to whisper satirical criticisms

on the remarks and manners of those around. Hemstead's interest

mainly centred in watching Lottie, and in noting the effect of her

contact with plain and uncultured people. He was glad he did not

see the repulsion of a little mind and a narrow nature, as was the

case with most of the others. Though it was evident that she had

no sympathy with them, or for them, there was intelligent interest

and wide-awake curiosity. While the others were incasing themselves

in exclusive pride, she was eager to investigate and get en rapport

with this new phase of humanity. But trammailed by her city ideas,

she felt that she could not speak to any one without the formality

of an introduction. But the ice was broken for her unexpectedly.

Feeling her dress pulled, she turned and found a very stout old

lady sitting near her, who asked in a loud whisper, "Been down to

supper yet?"

"No," said Lottie, "I don't wish any."

"I do, but I'm afeard I won't get none. You see I'm big and clumsy

anyway, and now I'm so lame with the rheumatiz that I kin hardly

move."

"It's too bad," said Lottie, pathetically, but with a swift comical

glance at the others.

"Yes, it's kinder orful to be so helpless," said the old woman,

with a complacent sigh, delighted at having a sympathetic auditor.

"I'm dreadfully afeard I won't git no supper. I'm like the withered

man at the pool of Bethesdy. Whenever they are ready for another

batch 'while I'm a-comin' another steppeth down before me.'"

"Well, you're not very much withered, that's one comfort to be

thankful for," said Lottie.

"I'd like to be thankful for my supper, if I could only git a

chance," persisted the old woman.

"You shall have a chance. When is the pool troubled? When shall

we put you in?"

"There! now is the time," said her new acquaintance, dropping her

affected and pious tone, and speaking with sharp eagerness. "See,

one batch is comin' up, and 'nother is going down."

"Mr. Hemstead, will you assist me in escorting this old lady to

the supper-table?"

Hemstead's face was aglow with approval, and he instantly complied,

while the others, understanding Lottie better, were convulsed with

laughter.

It was no easy thing for them unitedly to manage the hobbling

mountain of flesh. When they came to the narrow stairway, matters

were still more serious.

"You shall go first," whispered Lottie to Hemstead, "for if she

should fall on me, good-by, Lottie Marsden."

Hemstead patiently, carefully, and with the utmost deference,

assisted the helpless creature down the stairs.

"You're as polite to her as if she were a duchess," said Lottie,

in a low tone.

"She is more than a duchess. She is a woman," he replied.

Lottie gave him a quick, pleased look, but said, "Such old-fashioned

chivalry is out of date, Mr. Hemstead."

"He's right, miss," said the old woman, sharply. "I'm not Dutch."

Lottie dropped behind to hide her merriment at this speech, and

Hemstead appeared, with his charge clinging to his arm, at the

kitchen door, which her ample form nearly filled.

"My sakes alive! Auntie Lammer, how did you get down here?" said

Mrs. Gubling. "We hain't ready for you yet."

"No matter," said Mrs. Lammer, "I thank the marcies I've got down

safe, and I'm goin' to stay till I git my supper."

"Can I help you?" asked Lottie, glancing curiously around the room.

They looked with even more curiosity at her; and a strange contrast

she made, in her rich and tasteful costume and rare beauty, with

those plain, middle-aged, hard-working women, and the small, dingy

room.

For a moment they stared at her without reply, then gave each other

a few suggestive nudges; and Mrs. Rhamm was about to speak rather

slightingly, when good-natured Mrs. Gubling said: "You are very

kind, miss, but you don't look cut out for our work. Besides, my

dear, it's an orful dangerous place down here. I'm afraid we'll

git eat up ourselves before the evening is over. I'm sure you would

be, if you stayed. I wouldn't mind taking a bite myself"; and the

good woman and her assistants laughed heartily over this standing

joke of the evening, while Auntie Lammer, seeing that Mrs. Gubling

was the leading spirit of the supper-room, quivered in all her vast

proportions with politic and propitious mirth.

All this was inexpressibly funny to Lottie, who had the keenest

sense of the absurd, and with a sign to Hemstead she drew him away,

saying, "This exceeds any play I ever saw. I didn't know people

who were not acting could be so queer and comical."

"Well, Miss Lottie," he said, as they ascended the stairs, "I admit

that humanity everywhere often has its ridiculous side, but I have

been laughed at too much myself to enjoy laughing at others."

"And why should you be laughed at so much?"

"I suppose it is the fate of overgrown, awkward boys, who have a

tendency to blurt out the truth on all occasions."

"Such a tendency as that will always make you trouble, I assure

you."

"It hasn't with you, yet."

"Our acquaintance has been very brief."

"And yet I seem to know you so well! I would not have believed it

possible in one short day."

"I think you are mistaken. But you have ceased to be a stranger

to me. I have remarked before to-day, that I knew you better than

some I have seen from childhood."

"I am happy to say that I wish to conceal nothing."

"Few can say that."

"O, I don't mean that I am better than other people, only that

it's best to appear just what we are. People should be like coin,

worth their face--"

"I was in search of you," interrupted De Forrest, as they stood

talking a moment near the head of the stairs in the hall. "We did

not know but that the sylph you escorted away had made a supper

of Hemstead, with you as a relish. Have you seen enough of this

bear-garden yet?"

"No, indeed," said Lottie; "I'm just beginning to enjoy myself."

From openly staring at and criticising the party from Mrs.

Marchmont's, the young people began to grow aggressive, and, from

class prejudices, were inclined to be hostile. There were whispered

consultations, and finally one habitue of the store and tavern

thought he could cover himself with glory by a trick, and at the

same time secure a kiss from Lottie, the prettiest. The conspiracy

was soon formed. A kissing game in one of the upper rooms was

suspended for a moment, and one of the tall girls accompanied him

down as if they were a delegation, and on the principle that in

designs against a woman a female confederate is always helpful in

disarming suspicion.

He approached Lottie with the best manners he could assume, and

said, "We are having some games upstairs. Perhaps you would like

to join us. We'd like to have you."

"Do come," added the tall girl; "they are real nice."

"Certainly," said Lottie, who was now ready for another adventure.

"Come; let us all go."

"The others needn't come unless they want to," said the young

man; for he didn't relish the lawyer's presence, whom he knew by

reputation, nor the searching look of the tall stranger whom he

did not know.

"Mr. Hemstead, you and Julian come," said Lottie, and as they

ascended the stairs she studied this new specimen of Scrub Oaks,

who was a loafer of the village as De Forrest was an idler of the

town. They both belonged to the same genus, though the latter would

have resented such a statement as the foulest insult.

The manners and the smart finery of her new acquaintance amused

Lottie very much. When they reached the room, they found it full

of whispering, giggling young people.

The tall girl, as instructed, said, "Now let us form a ring with

our hands on this rope."

This having been done, she said, "Now, Mr. Shabb, you must go

inside first"; and then, with a nudge to Lottie, she explained,

"He'll try to hit our hands with his, and if he hits your hands you

will have to go inside the ring."

What else he would do, she left to be disclosed by action.

Then he of the flaming neck-tie and bulging cheek took his place

with a twinkling eye that meant mischief. De Forrest and Hemstead

declined to play, but the latter slipped forward and stood near

Lottie. He was not sure, but dimly remembered seeing this game

before, when it was not played so innocently as the tall girl had

described.

The young rustic made extravagant but purposely vain efforts

to strike the hands of others, and Lottie watched the scene with

laughing curiosity. Suddenly he wheeled round and struck her hands

sharply; and to her horrified surprise it seemed but a second later

that his repulsive face was almost against her own. But something

came between, and, starting back, she saw the baffled youth imprint

a fervent kiss on the back of Hemstead's hand.

There was a loud laugh at him from those who had expected to laugh

with him. He swaggered up to Hemstead, and said threateningly,

"What do you mean?"

"What do YOU mean?" asked Lottie, confronting him with blazing

eyes. "It is well this gentleman interposed. If you had succeeded

in your insult I should have had you punished in a way that you

would not soon forget."

"It's only part of the game," muttered he, abashed by her manner.

"Part of the game?"

"Yes," giggled the tall girl, faintly; "it's a kissing game."

"Did you know it was such?" asked Lottie, indignantly, of De Forrest

and Hemstead.

"Indeed I did not," said De Forrest; "and if you say so I'll give

this fellow the flogging, anyway."

"Come right out, and do it now," was the pert response.

"All I can say is, Miss Marsden," explained Hemstead, "that I

suspected something wrong, and took means to prevent it. How these

nice-looking girls can allow this fellow to kiss them is more than

I can understand."

"No lady would," said Lottie, as she swept disdainfully out; and under

the withering influence of these remarks kissing games languished

the rest of the evening; only young children, and a few of the

coarser-natured ones, participating. But soon the absurdity of

the whole scene overcame Lottie, and she laughed till the tears

stood in her eyes.

As they were slowly descending the stairs a faded little woman

said, "I'm glad to see you enjoying yourself, Miss Marchmont. It

was very kind of you and your party to come so far."

"I am not Miss Marchmont," said Lottie, "though I came with her."

"Well, as the minister's wife, I would like her and all her party

to know of our grateful appreciation."

"You thank us beyond our deserts. But are you the minister's wife?

I am glad to make your acquaintance"; and she held out her hand,

which Mrs. Dlimm seemed glad to take.

At this moment there came the cry of an infant from one of the

upper rooms.

"O, there goes my baby," said Mrs. Dlimm; "I thought I heard it

before"; and she was about to hasten on.

"May I not go with you and see the baby?" asked Lottie.

What mother ever refused such a request? In a moment Lottie was

in the one small room in which, on this portentous occasion, the

three younger children were huddled, the others being old enough

to take part in what, to them, was the greatest excitement of their

lives, thus far.

Lottie looked curiously around, with the quick, appreciative eye

by which ladies seem to gather accurately at a glance the effect

of a costume and the style and character of an apartment and its

occupants. But she politely, and from a certain innate interest,

gave such attention to the baby as to win the mother's heart. It

was but an ordinary baby, although the fattest and sturdiest member

of a rather pinched household; but Lottie wonderingly saw that to

the faded mother it was a cherub just from heaven.

Lottie could not understand it. A perfumed baby, in lace and

muslin, might be a nice pet if the nurse were always within call;

but the sole care of this chubby-cheeked Moloch, that would sacrifice

its mother as unconsciously and complacently as the plant absorbs

moisture, seemed almost as prosaic and dreadful as being devoured

alive.

"Does no one help you take care of that child?" asked she.

"Well, my husband and the elder children help some."

"Haven't you a nurse for all these children?"

"No, indeed. It's as much as we can do to clothe and feed them."

"Don't you keep any servants at all?"

"Yes, we have a girl in the kitchen, but she's almost as much bother

as she is worth."

"How do you get along?"

"I hardly know--somewhat as the birds do out of doors."

"Are you happy?"

"I've hardly time to think. I think I am, though,--happy as most

people. Some days bright, some days cloudy, and now and then a

storm. That's the way it is with all, I imagine. We all have our

crosses, you know, but by and by all will come right."

"I should be cross enough with all your crosses."

"They might make you patient. The crossest people I know are those

who shun all crosses."

"Now I think of it, I'm inclined to believe that's true," said

Lottie, reflectively. Then she whispered, as she walked softly to

the mother's side, "Baby is going to sleep, isn't it?"

With different expressions they both peered into the full-moon

face, two features of which, the eyes, were becoming obliterated

by the white, drooping lids. Lottie looked as if she were examining

a zoological specimen. Mrs. Dlimm gazed with a smile of deep content

and tenderness.

The undisturbed rest of the child upon her bosom was a type of her

own mind at that moment. She was nature's child, God's child, and

the babe was hers.

To the true and simple children of nature, who, without thought of

self or the public eye, are quietly doing their duty in their own

little niches, these moments of peace with strange thrills of joy

are constantly coming. If this worn mother could look down upon

the child, and her plain, pale face grow beautiful with spiritual

light, how must the God who inspires all love--who is the source

of tenderness--have regarded her?

The expression of this woman's face puzzled Lottie beyond measure.

It was so incongruous, irreconcilable with the burdens, the weary

cares, and ceaseless toil and anxiety of her lot. It was so out of

keeping with the noisy throng and confused bustle that filled the

house, and it dimly suggested to the proud belle a condition of

mind before undreamt of in her philosophy.

Some new and curious thoughts stole into her heart as she watched

the mother slowly rocking backward and forward, uttering a low,

crooning lullaby,--the gentlest sound that ever falls on mortal

ears. For some reason there came into her soul a sudden loathing

of her own selfishness and callousness.

After the child had been laid in the cradle, she asked, "What did

you mean when you said, 'It will all come right some day'?"

"Well, I suppose I meant that God's little children often get

sorely perplexed with their cares and troubles in this world, but

when we get home and sit down to rest and think it all over, it

will then seem right."

"Home?"

"Yes, home in our Heavenly Father's house. That's the only real

home we have. We only 'stop,' as the Irish say, here and there for

a little while in this world."

"And do you think of heaven as a pleasant home and rest after what

seems to me your very hard life?"

"Certainly. How do you think of it?"

"Well, to tell the truth, I have not thought much about it."

Before Mrs. Dlimm could reply, there came anything but a heavenly

interruption. It was as if Moses and Aaron were within the cool and

shadowy tabernacle, feasting on spiritual manna, and there came a

delegation from the Hebrew camp, clamoring for the "leeks and onions

of Egypt."

Though the congregation often said, "It's a pity Mrs. Dlimm is

such a meek and quiet little woman," and though the self-appointed

committee of ladies was so large, and the minister himself was

downstairs, yet when the first real emergency of the evening arose,

the upstairs members of the committee were helpless, and the best

thing Mrs. Gubling, the leading spirit downstairs, could do, was to

"slick up," as she said, and "go tell the parson's wife." But seeing

Mr. Dlimm on the way, she beckoned him aside with a portentous

nod. He, poor man, heard her tidings with dismay. He had fallen

into the habit of taking all his difficulties either to the Lord

or to his wife, and in this case he felt that both must come to

his aid.

With Mrs. Gubling he at once hastened to the nursery, and entered

rather abruptly.

Mrs. Dlimm raised her finger impressively, then pointed to the

cradle.

"But, my dear--" began her husband, rather impatiently.

"Hush," said the wife, in a low tone; "whatever's the matter don't

wake the baby, for then I can't do anything."

"Mrs. Dlimm," said Mrs. Gubling, "they've eat up about everything

there is downstairs, 'cept me, and there's three tables yet It's

such a fine night, and the sleighing's so good, that lots more have

come than we expected. I don't know how much money they brought,

but they hain't brought provisions enough."

"What shall we do?" asked Mr. Dlimm, nervously.

"If it takes the last penny we have in the world," said his wife,

with grave dignity, "no one shall leave our house hungry. You must

step over to the store, Mr. Dlimm, and buy enough to satisfy every

one."

"I feel just as you do, my dear," he said, with the air of one who

sees duty clearly, though it is far from being agree-able. "Just

give me our poor little hoard from your bureau drawer, and I'll go

at once."

Lottie witnessed the scene with mingled amusement and indignation,

and then, her face aglow with a sudden put pose, sped away also.

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