_MISS CAMPBELL._
While the travellers unpack their trunks, we will pick up, as briefly
as possible, the dropped stitches in the little romance we are
weaving.
Rose's life had been a very busy and quiet one for the four years
following the May-day when she made her choice. Study, exercise,
house-work, and many wholesome pleasures, kept her a happy, hearty
creature, yearly growing in womanly graces, yet always preserving the
innocent freshness girls lose so soon when too early sent upon the
world's stage, and given a part to play.
Not a remarkably gifted girl in any way, and far from perfect; full of
all manner of youthful whims and fancies; a little spoiled by much
love; rather apt to think all lives as safe and sweet as her own; and,
when want or pain appealed to her, the tender heart overflowed with a
remorseful charity, which gave of its abundance recklessly. Yet, with
all her human imperfections, the upright nature of the child kept her
desires climbing toward the just and pure and true, as flowers
struggle to the light; and the woman's soul was budding beautifully
under the green leaves behind the little thorns.
At seventeen, Dr. Alec pronounced her ready for the voyage round the
world, which he considered a better finishing off than any school
could give her. But just then Aunt Peace began to fail, and soon
slipped quietly away to rejoin the lover she had waited for so long.
Youth seemed to come back in a mysterious way to touch the dead face
with lost loveliness, and all the romance of her past to gather round
her memory. Unlike most aged women, her friends were among the young;
and, at her funeral, the gray heads gave place to the band of loving
girls who made the sweet old maiden ready for her rest, bore her pall,
and covered her grave with the white flowers she had never worn.
When this was over, poor Aunt Plenty seemed so lost without her
life-long charge that Dr. Alec would not leave her; and Rose gladly
paid the debt she owed by the tender service which comforts without
words. But Aunt Plenty, having lived for others all her days, soon
rebelled against this willing sacrifice, soon found strength in her
own sincere piety, solace in cheerful occupation, and amusement in
nursing Aunt Myra, who was a capital patient, as she never died and
never got well.
So, at last, the moment came when, with free minds, the travellers
could set out; and on Rose's eighteenth birthday, with Uncle Alec and
the faithful Phebe, she sailed away to see and study the big,
beautiful world, which lies ready for us all, if we only know how to
use and to enjoy it.
Phebe was set to studying music in the best schools; and, while she
trained her lovely voice with happy industry, Rose and her uncle
roamed about in the most delightful way, till two years were gone like
a dream, and those at home clamored for their return.
Back they came, and now the heiress must make ready to take her place;
for at twenty-one she came into possession of the fortune she had been
trying to learn how to use well. Great plans fermented in her brain;
for, though the heart was as generous as ever, time had taught her
prudence, and observation shown her that the wisest charity is that
which helps the poor to help themselves.
Dr. Alec found it a little difficult to restrain the ardor of this
young philanthropist, who wanted to begin at once to endow hospitals,
build homes, adopt children, and befriend all mankind.
"Take a little time to look about you and get your bearings, child;
for the world you have been living in is a much simpler, honester one
than that you are now to enter. Test yourself a bit, and see if the
old ways seem best after all; for you are old enough to decide, and
wise enough to discover, what is for your truest good, I hope," he
said, trying to feel ready to let the bird escape from under his wing,
and make little flights alone.
"Now, uncle, I'm very much afraid you are going to be disappointed in
me," answered Rose, with unusual hesitation, yet a very strong desire
visible in her eyes. "You like to have me quite honest, and I've
learned to tell you all my foolish thoughts: so I'll speak out, and if
you find my wish very wrong and silly, please say so; for I don't want
you to cast me off entirely, though I am grown up. You say, wait a
little, test myself, and try if the old ways are best. I should like
to do that; and can I in a better way than by leading the life other
girls lead, just for a little while," she added, as her uncle's face
grew grave.
He _was_ disappointed; yet acknowledged that the desire was natural,
and in a moment saw that a trial of this sort might have its
advantages. Nevertheless, he dreaded it; for he had intended to choose
her society carefully, and try to keep her unspoiled by the world as
long as possible, like many another fond parent and guardian. But the
spirit of Eve is strong in all her daughters: forbidden fruit will
look rosier to them than any in their own orchards, and the
temptation to take just one little bite proves irresistible to the
wisest. So Rose, looking out from the safe seclusion of her girlhood
into the woman's kingdom which she was about to take possession of,
felt a sudden wish to try its pleasures before assuming its
responsibilities, and was too sincere to hide the longing.
"Very well, my dear, try it if you like, only take care of your
health: be temperate in your gayety, and don't lose more than you
gain; if that is possible," he added under his breath, endeavoring to
speak cheerfully and not look anxious.
"I know it is foolish; but I do want to be a regular butterfly for a
little while and see what it is like. You know I couldn't help seeing
a good deal of fashionable life abroad, though we were not in it; and
here at home the girls tell me about all sorts of pleasant things that
are to happen this winter; so, if you won't despise me _very_ much, I
should like to try it."
"For how long?"
"Would three months be too long? New Year is a good time to take a
fresh start. Every one is going to welcome me; so I must be gay in
spite of myself, unless I'm willing to seem very ungrateful and
morose," said Rose, glad to have so good a reason to offer for her new
experiment.
"You may like it so well that the three months may become years.
Pleasure is very sweet when we are young."
"Do you think it will intoxicate me?"
"We shall see, my dear."
"We shall!" and Rose marched away; looking as if she had taken a
pledge of some sort, and meant to keep it.
It was a great relief to the public mind when it became known that
Miss Campbell was really coming out at last; and invitations to Aunt
Plenty's party were promptly accepted. Aunt Clara was much
disappointed about the grand ball she had planned; but Rose stood
firm, and the dear old lady had her way about every thing.
The consequence was a delightfully informal gathering of friends to
welcome the travellers home. Just a good, old-fashioned, hospitable
house-warming; so simple, cordial, and genuine that those who came to
criticise remained to enjoy, and many owned the charm they could
neither describe nor imitate.
Much curiosity was felt about Phebe, and much gossip went on behind
fans that evening; for those who had known her years ago found it hard
to recognize the little house-maid in the handsome young woman who
bore herself with such quiet dignity, and charmed them all with her
fine voice. "Cinderella has turned out a princess," was the general
verdict: and Rose enjoyed the little sensation immensely; for she had
had many battles to fight for her Phebe since she came among them, and
now her faith was vindicated.
Miss Campbell herself was in great demand, and did the honors so
prettily that even Miss Bliss forgave her for her sad neglect of
Worth; though she shook her head over the white gowns, just alike
except that Phebe wore crimson and Rose blue trimmings.
The girls swarmed eagerly round their recovered friend; for Rose had been
a favorite before she went away, and found her throne waiting for her
now. The young men privately pronounced Phebe the handsomest,--"But
then you know there's neither family nor money; so it's no use." Phebe,
therefore, was admired as one of the ornamental properties belonging
to the house, and let respectfully alone.
But bonny Rose was "all right," as these amiable youths expressed it;
and many a wistful eye followed the bright head as it flitted about
the rooms, as if it were a second Golden Fleece to be won with
difficulty; for stalwart kinsmen hedged it round, and watchful aunts
kept guard.
Little wonder that the girl found her new world an enchanting one, and
that her first sip of pleasure rather went to her head; for everybody
welcomed and smiled on her, flattered and praised, whispered agreeable
prophecies in her ear, and looked the compliments and congratulations
they dared not utter, till she felt as if she must have left her old
self somewhere abroad, and suddenly become a new and wonderfully
gifted being.
"It is very nice, uncle; and I'm not sure that I mayn't want another
three months of it when the first are gone," she whispered to Dr.
Alec, as he stood watching the dance she was leading with Charlie in
the long hall after supper.
"Steady, my lass, steady; and remember that you are not really a
butterfly, but a mortal girl with a head that will ache to-morrow," he
answered, watching the flushed and smiling face before him.
"I almost wish there wasn't any to-morrow, but that to-night would
last for ever: it is so pleasant, and every one so kind," she said
with a little sigh of happiness, as she gathered up her fleecy skirts
like a white bird pluming itself for flight.
"I'll ask your opinion about that at two A.M," began her uncle, with a
warning nod.
"I'll give it honestly," was all Rose had time to say before Charlie
swept her away into the parti-colored cloud before them.
"It's no use, Alec: train a girl as wisely as you choose, she will
break loose when the time comes, and go in for pleasure as eagerly as
the most frivolous; for ''tis their nature to,'" said Uncle Mac,
keeping time to the music as if he would not mind "going in" for a bit
of pleasure himself.
"My girl shall taste and try; but, unless I'm much mistaken, a little
of it will satisfy her. I want to see if she will stand the test; for,
if not, all my work is a failure, and I'd like to know it," answered
the doctor, with a hopeful smile on his lips, but an anxious look in
his eyes.
"She will come out all right,--bless her heart! so let her sow her
innocent wild oats and enjoy herself till she is ready to settle down.
I wish all our young folks were likely to have as small a crop, and
get through as safely as she will," added Uncle Mac, with a shake of
the head, as he glanced at some of the young men revolving before him.
"Nothing amiss with your lads, I hope?"
"No, thank heaven! So far I've had little trouble with either; though
Mac is an odd stick, and Steve a puppy. I don't complain; for both
will outgrow that sort of thing, and are good fellows at heart, thanks
to their mother. But Clara's boy is in a bad way; and she will spoil
him as a man as she has as a boy, if his father doesn't interfere."
"I told brother Stephen all about him when I was in Calcutta last
year, and he wrote to the boy; but Clara has got no end of plans in
her head, and so she insisted on keeping Charlie a year longer when
his father ordered him off to India," replied the doctor, as they
walked away.
"It is too late to 'order:' Charlie is a man now, and Stephen will
find that he has been too easy with him all these years. Poor fellow,
it has been hard lines for him, and is likely to be harder, I fancy,
unless he comes home and straightens things out."
"He won't do that if he can help it; for he has lost all his energy
living in that climate, and hates worry more than ever: so you can
imagine what an effort it would be to manage a foolish woman and a
headstrong boy. We must lend a hand, Mac, and do our best for poor
old Steve."
"The best we can do for the lad is to marry and settle him as soon as
possible."
"My dear fellow, he is only three and twenty," began the doctor, as if
the idea was preposterous: then a sudden change came over him, as he
added with a melancholy smile, "I forget how much one can hope and
suffer, even at twenty-three."
"And be all the better for, if bravely outlived," said Uncle Mac, with
his hand on his brother's shoulder, and the sincerest approval in his
voice. Then, kindly returning to the younger people, he went on
inquiringly, "You don't incline to Clara's view of a certain matter, I
fancy?"
"Decidedly not. My girl must have the best, and Clara's training would
spoil an angel," answered Dr. Alec, quickly.
"But we shall find it hard to let our little Rose go out of the
family. How would Archie do? He has been well brought up, and is a
thoroughly excellent lad."
The brothers had retired to the study by this time, and were alone;
yet Dr. Alec lowered his voice as he said with a tender sort of
anxiety pleasant to see,--
"You know I do not approve of cousins marrying, so I'm in a quandary,
Mac; for I love the child as if she were my own, and feel as if I
could not give her up to any man whom I did not know and trust
entirely. It is of no use for us to plan; for she must choose for
herself: yet I do wish we could keep her among us, and give one of our
boys a wife worth having."
"We must; so never mind your theories, but devote yourself to testing
our elder lads, and making one of them a happy fellow. All are
heart-whole, I believe, and, though young still for this sort of
thing, we can be gently shaping matters for them, since no one knows
how soon the moment may come. My faith! it is like living in a
powder-mill to be among a lot of young folks now-a-days. All looks as
calm as possible, till a sudden spark produces an explosion, and
heaven only knows where we find ourselves after it is over."
And Uncle Mac sat himself comfortably down to settle Rose's fate;
while the doctor paced the room, plucking at his beard and knitting
his brows, as if he found it hard to see his way.
"Yes, Archie is a good fellow," he said, answering the question he had
ignored before. "An upright, steady, intelligent lad, who will make an
excellent husband, if he ever finds out that he has a heart. I suppose
I'm an old fool, but I do like a little more romance in a young man
than he seems to have; more warmth and enthusiasm, you know. Bless the
boy! he might be forty instead of three or four and twenty: he's so
sober, calm, and cool. I'm younger now than he is, and could go
a-wooing like a Romeo if I had any heart to offer a woman."
The doctor looked rather shamefaced as he spoke, and his brother burst
out laughing,--
"See here, Alec, it's a pity so much romance and excellence as yours
should be lost; so why don't you set these young fellows an example,
and go a-wooing yourself? Jessie has been wondering how you have
managed to keep from falling in love with Phebe all this time; and
Clara is quite sure that you only waited till she was safe under Aunt
Plenty's wing to offer yourself in the good old-fashioned style."
"I!" and the doctor stood aghast at the mere idea; then he gave a
resigned sort of sigh and added like a martyr, "If those dear women
would let me alone, I'd thank them for ever. Put the idea out of their
minds for heaven's sake, Mac, or I shall be having that poor girl
flung at my head, and her comfort destroyed. She is a fine creature,
and I'm proud of her; but she deserves a better lot than to be tied to
an old fellow like me, whose only merit is his fidelity."
"As you please, I was only joking," and Uncle Mac dropped the subject
with secret relief; for the excellent man thought a good deal of
family, and had been rather worried at the hints of the ladies. After
a moment's silence, he returned to a former topic, which was rather a
pet plan of his. "I don't think you do Archie justice, Alec. You don't
know him as well as I do; but you'll find that he has heart enough
under his cool, quiet manner. I've grown very fond of him, think
highly of him, and don't see how you could do better for Rose than to
give her to him."
"If she will go," said the doctor, smiling at his brother's
business-like way of disposing of the young people.
"She'll do any thing to please you," began Uncle Mac, in perfect good
faith; for twenty-five years in the society of a very prosaic wife had
taken nearly all the romance out of him.
"It is of no use for us to plan, and I shall never interfere except to
advise; but, if I _were_ to choose one of the boys, I should incline
to my godson," answered the doctor, gravely.
"What, my Ugly Duckling!" exclaimed Uncle Mac, in great surprise.
"The Ugly Duckling turned out a swan, you remember. I've always been
fond of the boy, because he's so genuine and original. Crude as a
green apple now, but sound at the core, and only needs time to ripen.
I'm sure he'll turn out a capital specimen of the Campbell variety."
"Much obliged, Alec; but it will never do at all. He's a good fellow,
and may do something to be proud of by and by; but he's not the mate
for our Rose. She needs some one who can manage her property when we
are gone; and Archie is the man for that, depend upon it."
"Confound the property!" cried Dr. Alec, impetuously. "I want her to
be _happy_; and I don't care how soon she gets rid of her money if it
is going to be a millstone round her neck. I declare to you, I
dreaded the thought of this time so much that I've kept her away as
long as I could, and trembled whenever a young fellow joined us while
we were abroad. Had one or two narrow escapes, and now I'm in for it,
as you can see by to-night's 'success,' as Clara calls it. Thank
heaven, I haven't _many_ daughters to look after!"
"Come, come, don't be anxious: take Archie, and settle it right up
safely and happily. That's my advice, and you'll find it sound,"
replied the elder conspirator, like one having experience.
"I'll think of it; but mind you, Mac, not a word of this to the
sisters. We are a couple of old fools to be match-making so soon; but
I see what is before me, and it's a comfort to free my mind to some
one."
"So it is. Depend on me; not a breath even to Jane," answered Uncle
Mac, with a hearty shake and a sympathetic slap on the shoulder.
"Why, what dark and awful secrets are going on here? Is it a
Freemasons' Lodge, and those the mystic signs?" asked a gay voice at
the door; and there stood Rose, full of smiling wonder at the sight of
her two uncles hand in hand, whispering and nodding to one another
mysteriously.
They started, like school-boys caught plotting mischief, and looked so
guilty that she took pity on them, innocently imagining that the
brothers were indulging in a little sentiment on this joyful occasion;
so she added quickly, as she beckoned, without crossing the
threshold,--
"Women not allowed, of course: but both of you dear Odd Fellows are
wanted; for Aunt Plenty begs we will have an old-fashioned contra
dance, and I'm to lead off with Uncle Mac. I chose you, sir, because
you do it in style, pigeon-wings and all. So, please come; and Phebe
is waiting for you, Uncle Alec. She is rather shy you know, but will
enjoy it with you to take care of her."
"Thank you, thank you!" cried both gentlemen, following with great
alacrity.
Unconscious Rose enjoyed that Virginia reel immensely; for the
pigeon-wings were superb, and her partner conducted her through the
convolutions of the dance without a fault, going down the middle in
his most gallant style. Landing safely at the bottom, she stood aside
to let him get his breath; for stout Uncle Mac was bound to do or die
on that occasion, and would have danced his pumps through without a
murmur if she had desired it.
Leaning against the wall with his hair in his eyes, and a decidedly
bored expression of countenance, was Mac, Jr., who had been surveying
the gymnastics of his parent with respectful astonishment.
"Come and take a turn, my lad. Rose is as fresh as a daisy; but we old
fellows soon get enough of it, so you shall have my place," said his
father, wiping his face, which glowed like a cheerful peony.
"No, thank you, sir: I can't stand that sort of thing. I'll race you
round the piazza with pleasure, cousin; but this oven is too much for
me," was Mac's uncivil reply, as he backed toward the open window, as
if glad of an excuse to escape.
"Fragile creature, don't stay on my account, I beg. _I_ can't leave my
guests for a moonlight run, even if I dared to take it on a frosty
night in a thin dress," said Rose, fanning herself, and not a bit
ruffled by Mac's refusal; for she knew his ways, and they amused her.
"Not half so bad as all this dust, gas, heat, and noise. What do you
suppose lungs are made of?" demanded Mac, ready for a discussion then
and there.
"I used to know, but I've forgotten now. Been so busy with other
things that I've neglected the hobbies I used to ride five or six
years ago," she said, laughing.
"Ah, those were times worth having! Are you going in for much of this
sort of thing, Rose?" he asked, with a disapproving glance at the
dancers.
"About three months of it, I think."
"Then good-by till New Year," and Mac vanished behind the curtains.
"Rose, my dear, you really must take that fellow in hand before he
gets to be quite a bear. Since you have been gone, he has lived in his
books, and got on so finely that we have let him alone, though his
mother groans over his manners. Polish him up a bit, I beg of you; for
it is high time he mended his odd ways, and did justice to the fine
gifts he hides behind them," said Uncle Mac, scandalized at the
bluntness of his son.
"I know my chestnut-burr too well to mind his prickles. But others do
not; so I _will_ take him in hand and make him a credit to the
family," answered Rose, readily.
"Take Archie for your model: he's one of a thousand; and the girl who
gets him gets a prize I do assure you," added Uncle Mac, who found
match-making to his taste, and thought that closing remark a deep one.
"Oh me, how tired I am!" cried Rose, dropping into a chair as the last
carriage rolled away, somewhere between one and two.
"What is your opinion now, Miss Campbell?" asked the doctor,
addressing her for the first time by the name which had been uttered
so often that night.
"My opinion is that Miss Campbell is likely to have a gay life if she
goes on as she has begun; and that she finds it very delightful so
far," answered the girl, with lips still smiling from their first
taste of what the world calls pleasure.