AN ANGRY FATHER.
Jaqueline was very busy paying visits and having a good time. They had
been up to the Pineries twice without her. Truth to tell, she was a
little afraid of her own counsel, and hoping Marian would have spirit
enough to assert herself. One day she was very much surprised by the
advent of Mr. Ralston.
"Yes, honey; he jes' done ask to see you, not yer mar ner ennyone! And
he looks jes laik a lover comin' to de house," announced Julia, one of
the waiting-maids.
Jaqueline went down with a deeper flush on her cheek and a
beating heart. There was a courteous greeting, and then a touch of
embarrassment. Ralston was first to surmount it.
"Miss Mason," he began abruptly, "when have you seen Miss Floyd?"
"Not since she was here. I have been away from home. Papa and part of
the family were up last week."
"Will you read this note?"
It was from Marian--very brief and cold. She had considered the matter,
and felt that it would be impossible to keep up the acquaintance. It
would be useless either to come or to write.
"If Miss Floyd was merely amusing herself, of course that is the end of
it. Do you know whether she has a lover? There was some mystery about
her I could not quite fathom. I may have been misled, but I thought she
cared for me. Indeed," he added, flushing a little and softening his
tone, "it seemed a case of mutual attraction at first sight. We became
such friends while she was at her sister's."
Jaqueline considered a moment. Then she said: "I had better tell you
the whole story. And if you knew grandpapa--he is as arbitrary as a
king. He looks like one too."
She recapitulated the advances of Mr. Greaves, and admitted that Marian
was yielding and stood in awe of her father. "But I am quite certain
she loves you," declared the incautious girl.
"I felt rather certain," with a satisfied half-smile. "And I can
understand that Mr. Greaves is a rival not to be despised. I have
no broad acres nor ancestral home, but youth and ambition and a good
profession. Surely when Mr. Floyd comes to understand, he cannot force
his daughter's inclinations! I will devote my whole life to her, my
best energies. I am sure I shall succeed."
"Marian never could resist him if she saw him now," Jaqueline thought,
he looked so proud and so in earnest. But Grandpapa Floyd!
"You give me hope. You are young to advise anyone in a love affair,"
and he laughed in a genial, amused fashion. "I came here because
you knew about those two days, and I thought you might be more in
Miss Floyd's confidence than her sister, though I can count on Mrs.
Jettson's influence and approval, I am certain. Do you think Miss Floyd
may have told her father?"
"Oh, no; I am sure she has not. Only I do think some influence has been
brought to bear upon her, and she has felt afraid----"
Jaqueline looked very pretty and spirited, standing up straight and
slim, her dark eyes aglow with earnestness and eager interest. She
would not be afraid to stand up for her lover.
"Shall I go or write?"
"Oh, I am afraid to advise!" She turned pale then.
"And it is unmanly to ask it."
"Perhaps papa could tell better."
"I wonder if I might see him?"
"Oh, yes. Will you amuse yourself while I find him? Louis is away, and
the children are having a picnic down in the grove."
Mr. Mason was ensconced in a willow easy-chair, with a high back and
a cushion, while his wife was reading aloud from the pages of Oliver
Goldsmith. He glanced up, and Jaqueline suddenly realized the gravity
of the matter in hand.
"Mr. Ralston is here, and would like to see you, papa!" she exclaimed
persuasively.
"Ah--can't you bring him out here?"
"It is quite important and----" hesitatingly.
"Yes, I'll come." He reached for his coat, and sighed at the added
warmth.
Jaqueline slipped her hand through his arm.
"It's about--Marian."
"I was afraid there would be trouble. Jack, was their meeting here pure
accident? Tell me the truth. Or did you have mischief in your mind?"
"It wasn't _quite_ that. But Marian did not know. And I did not really
promise Mr. Ralston."
"I wish you had kept out of it, my girl."
"But Marian _does_ love him. And surely grandpapa will never make her
marry that stupid old Mr. Greaves!"
"Take care. I am getting old."
"But you will never be stupid." She reached up and kissed him.
"You know grandfather is very fond of having his own way. Mr. Greaves
isn't so bad, when all is said."
"You wouldn't make me marry him?"
"I am afraid I would have a tough job," and he laughed.
"Now I shall leave you to your own wisdom."
The squire nodded.
The young lover presented his case in a very straightforward, honorable
fashion. Mr. Mason's heart went out to him, but he understood his
stepfather's obstinacy and his dislike to be meddled with or thwarted.
His mother was in favor of the marriage also, which would make it
harder for Marian.
"If you write to Mr. Floyd you will receive a polite but decided
dismissal. If you see him I am afraid the result will be the same, and
less pleasant to remember."
"Do you suppose I am coward enough to relinquish the woman I love in
such an emergency as this? If I heard from her own lips that she did
not care for me, that would influence my conduct. But I am certain she
does care, and I want her to know that I am ready to take any step for
her happiness. I am too much of a soldier to give up without an effort,
even if I have seen only fair-weather service. What would you have done
in your youth?"
"Made a good fight," smiling at the other's eagerness.
"Then I shall go. To be merely dismissed would be mortifying. And
any woman would despise such a tame lover! Thank you for your cordial
reception. In any event I shall count on your friendship."
He shook Mr. Mason's hand warmly.
"But you will stay and have some supper with us? And why not accept our
hospitality for the night?"
"Thank you. I have some important matters on hand to-morrow morning.
I am truly sorry not to have a delightful evening with you, and I am
indebted to you for this kindly attention on a troublesome subject. I
sincerely trust that some day I shall stand in a nearer relation. You
can wish me success--I hope?"
The truth and honor in the lines of the face appealed to the elder man.
He had found so many charms in his new wife, so much sweetness in the
daily love, that he could be generous in his wishes.
"Yes, I hope you will succeed," and the squire said it from the depth
of his heart, although his latent judgment was not so hopeful.
"He will go to the Pineries," he said as he rejoined his wife and
daughter. "It will not do any good, and I am afraid we are in for a
family fracas. Marian may refuse to marry Mr. Greaves, but her father
will not accept Ralston. I am sorry. They would make a nice, happy
young couple."
"But she might wait a year or two."
"It isn't easy waiting when there is no real hope, and the influence
is all on the other side. You see, Grandfather Floyd has trained his
children to habits of obedience. He isn't turned about with every wind
of doctrine, as I am. Not a child stands in awe of me. And when I pick
out my future son-in-law, Miss Jaqueline, I expect you will turn up
your pretty nose and utterly refuse him."
"I shall if he has four children belonging to another woman."
Her father raised his brows. The young girl turned scarlet and clasped
her arms about Mrs. Mason's neck.
"Mother dear, forgive that awkward speech. We are all glad to have you,
as you must be aware by this time, and since you are such a comfort and
pleasure to papa it would be the height of jealous unamiability not to
love you. But if _you_ had left four children you wouldn't want me for
their stepmother, would you, now? Confess the truth."
She looked very arch and pretty, and her voice had a persuasive cadence
that amused her father.
"They might fare worse, my dear girl," returned Mrs. Mason. "I should
trust Annis anywhere with you. And Marian would make a charming mother,
but I do think she is entitled to some young, sweet life of her own. I
cannot help thinking how one extreme begets another. Your grandparents
are very authoritative----"
"Domineering is better," interposed the squire laughingly. "You are
great for picking out the softer words, Patty. Mr. Floyd is of the old
school, and his beliefs intensify with age. His children were put in
the world to honor and obey him. Brandon married an heiress with an
estate and no end of slaves. Jane slipped through with the man of her
choice, but you can notice that he is rather captious about Arthur,
who is doing very well and will be a rich man if he doesn't blunder in
the Washington bogs. I think myself Marian and Dolly are kept in very
narrow bounds. Dolly has a way of slipping out, but Marian is rather
timid."
"The system has made her so, but I should think she would have
inherited a good deal of spirit and force of character."
"I think I shall turn over a new leaf myself," declared the squire,
with a twinkle of humor in his eye. "In the future, Miss Jaqueline, I
wish you to consult me about your goings-out and comings-in. You are
to say 'Sir' to me in the most respectful fashion. Perhaps your mother
would like you to address her as 'Madam.' You are to take no hand in
the affairs of foolish young lovers. You are not to go careering about
the plantation on horseback, but to be sober, discreet, and industrious
with your needle. Perhaps it would be well for you to keep a journal.
Is there anything else? I must consult Aunt Catharine. Your mother is
quite too easy."
There was a laugh in every dimple and line in the young girl's face.
Any pretense of austerity sat oddly enough on the squire's round,
humorous countenance.
There was a sudden interruption of the three younger children racing up
the patch in a breathless fashion. Annis went straight to her mother's
arms, Charles halted at his father's side and snatched his hand.
"Is Annis my sister truly, papa?"
"But it's just the same," interrupted Varina, whose tone indicated that
she had been in a warm discussion. "And, papa, can he marry her?"
"More family difficulties!" declared the squire. "Is the world going
crazy? And, Varina, marriages do not begin with the babies of the
family."
"I'm not a baby." Charles straightened himself up to his tallest.
"I said when I was a grown man I should marry Annis. I am going to
study hard and go to Congress; perhaps I shall be sent abroad on some
mission."
"And isn't the husband always the oldest, papa? Charles is almost two
years younger than Annis."
"One year and eight months," corrected Charles. "I don't see what
difference it can make. I shall be the tallest and earn the money. And
she isn't my own sister. She isn't any real relation. But if she was my
cousin I could marry her."
The squire laughed heartily, which rather disconcerted Varina.
"Truly," he said, "love seems to have broken out as a distemper. And
so you want Annis for a sweetheart, Charles? What does Annis say to all
this?"
Annis was caressing her mother's hand.
"She likes me better than anybody except her mother."
"Oh, little Annis, have you thrown me over? And after the pony, too!"
The squire's voice was whimsically upbraiding, and his glance touched
her tender heart. She flew over to him.
"Oh, I do love you!" she cried. "But you have mamma, and I know I can
never get back all of her."
"Do you want all of her back? Would you take her away?"
"I wouldn't have any home to take her to. And she likes it here and all
the children and you, and I like it too now. I don't mind giving part
of her away."
"And next she likes me." Charles went around and stood by her side in
his manliest pose. They made a pretty picture.
"I thought you loved _me_ a good deal," interposed Jaqueline.
"Oh, I love you all!" said the child, though she glanced doubtfully at
Varina.
"But, then, girls don't marry ever, no matter how much they love each
other," said the young admirer.
"And she _is_ our sister," persisted Varina.
"Not in that sense, my little girl. And the age makes no difference.
So she can be Charles' sweetheart until he goes to college and gets
another one."
"But I do not mean ever to get another one. And we were playing keep
house under the big hemlock. Dinah had made us some cookies. And Rene
was the company----"
"I shall not be company any more," returned the child, with a toss of
the head. "If you want Annis, take her then."
"There, children, no quarreling. Aren't the cookies good enough to be
peacemakers?"
"But we've eaten them all up."
Varina marched off in a huff. Jaqueline was laughing. Mrs. Mason looked
annoyed. The stepfather kissed Annis tenderly.
"There," he said, "run off and finish your play. Be the best of
friends, and have the best times you can. The world will look different
to you a dozen years hence, and love will settle perplexities."
Jaqueline had followed her sister, though she knew Varina was generally
the marplot in their play.
"Oh, Randolph, how could you!" exclaimed Mrs. Mason, with a touch of
upbraiding. "Such matters are too grave and serious for children's
plays."
"Yet I suppose we have all taken a hand in it. When I was a boy of nine
or ten I was very much in love with a young relative who used to visit
us. She taught me to dance, and I remember I wrote some verses to her.
She must have been at least fifteen, for two years later she married,
and I was so surprised and hurt that I think I always hated her husband
until I was nearly grown and fell in love again. And after that I met
your cousin."
Mrs. Mason still looked unconvinced.
"It won't hurt Charles. I like to see boys chivalrous and devoted, and
Annis is such a darling. It would delight me if they were old enough
to have it all in sober earnest. There, do not look so grave over a
little childish nonsense. Let us rather be fortifying ourselves for the
avalanche that is to descend on our devoted heads. One can hardly blame
Jaqueline, but I am afraid poor Marian will have a hard time. Presently
_we_ shall begin to be plagued with lovers."
Mrs. Mason gave a little sigh. It had been quite a task at first to
induce Annis to be really friendly with the children; now she and
Charles were inseparable. At first Varina had tormented them with
childish jealousy, though there were not many of their enjoyments
she wanted to share. Boisterous games and frolics were more to her
fancy than books, but Annis could have listened forever. They were
both extravagantly fond of flowers and rambling about. Mrs. Mason had
so many duties to the household and the slaves, that she was often
relieved when the little girl found amusement elsewhere. And Charles
was an admirable companion, with his even temper, his heroic romances,
his innate love for whatever was noble and true, his courtesy and
kindliness. In the earlier years Varina had quite tyrannized over him,
but as their tastes began to differ he quietly emancipated himself with
the rare art born in some people. The tutor had given him a dignity of
position. Annis appreciated this quiet side of his nature, though she
enjoyed the songs and dances and frolics of the pickaninnies, and often
joined in a game of romps.
Just now the mother had a half-jealous feeling that her child should
find satisfaction elsewhere. There were so many years between her and
womanhood that it was foolish to pay heed to the child's play, she
knew.
From various causes they had not made their usual weekly visit to
the Pineries. Jaqueline half wished Patricia would insist upon going,
but she did not. As for herself, she hardly dared venture, lest some
untoward questions might be asked.
And so one day the old-fashioned yellow coach with driver and footman
turned up the avenue. There had been a recent rain, and the air was
cool and fragrant. Mr. and Mrs. Mason were out on the wide porch at the
northern end. Dinner was over, and the squire had tilted back his chair
where he could lean against the great square column, and prepared for
his siesta.
Mrs. Mason was sewing. The girls were in the big swing under some great
sycamore trees, and Louis was lounging on the grass.
"Randolph, your mother and Mr. Floyd," said his wife, startled.
Mr. Mason rose, but the footman had helped out Mr. Floyd, who sat
nearest, and Mr. Mason clasped his mother's hand after she had
alighted.
"This is a great surprise and pleasure, but the air is magnificent,
just the day for driving. I was over to the courthouse most of the
morning. I've had that bother of the Chaffee estate on my hands, but we
are getting it into shape. It has taken a good deal of my time."
"We had looked for you up," returned his mother, with a touch of
asperity in her tone.
"Scipio, see that the horses are put out----"
"The horses have been attended to. We stopped at Rhoby's and had a
little rest and a bite of something."
"But you will have dinner----"
"No, no!" Mr. Floyd waved his long white hand impressively. "We have
not come to stay, and will drive back presently."
Mrs. Mason had come forward and greeted her guests. But she felt the
storm in the air, and caught the perplexity in her husband's eye.
"Shall we go within?"
"No; it is so much pleasanter here. There is enough time in winter to
be shut up in rooms. Give me the great world out of doors, when it is
neither too hot nor too cold."
"All are well, I suppose?" asked Mrs. Mason.
"Brandon's little son is quite ill--the second child. We only heard
last evening. Some kind of a fever. I hope it will not be severe. They
are fine boys," declared their grandmother with pride.
"We have escaped wonderfully on the plantation. Very little sickness so
far," Mr. Mason remarked, and there was an ominous pause.
"Mr. Mason," began the old gentleman, clearing his voice, "I had a
visitor a few days ago, who, I understood, had your countenance in
a very impertinent matter. I was amazed that you should for a moment
entertain the thought that anything he might say would be acceptable to
me--to us," glancing at his wife.
Randolph Mason met the issue squarely.
"You mean Lieutenant Ralston?"
"That ill-bred puppy who, if he wants to do his country any service,
had better go out against the Indians and protect the border people
from their depredations instead of flirting around after women. I
wonder that you sent him on such a fool's errand. You knew my plans
concerning my daughter Marian?"
"I advised him to write to you, but he was very much in earnest and
thought he could plead his cause better."
"The fellow is a silly, insufferable idiot! Yes--I know," waving his
hand authoritatively, "the kind of people Jane consorts with, and I
might have been certain the society there would do the girls no good.
But that you should not only aid and abet him, but allow your home to
be made the scene of an intrigue, is treating your mother and myself
shamefully, and exposing your young sister to the machinations of an
unprincipled fellow! If you choose to allow your daughters to consort
with such cattle----"
"Hold, Mr. Floyd! I will not have an honorable young man accused in
that manner, neither will I allow you to traduce my household. There
was no intrigue, but an accidental meeting here----"
Mr. Floyd rose in a passion, his eyes sparkling, his face flushed.
"Do you dare to tell me there was no underhand plan in all this?
Jaqueline's adroitly worded note, that might have aroused suspicion
if we had not considered you above such a scheme. It was atrocious,
sir! We had refused to have her visit her sister on that account. She
had met the young man there. And how was it _he_ should come at this
particular juncture?"
"My son brought him down from Washington. He is in the habit of asking
his friends. Another friend was coming, Mr. Roger Carrington."
"Where is Louis? Let me see him. Let him deny his part of the plan, if
he can, with truth."
"Mr. Floyd, do common justice to the young man. He is a fine, highly
esteemed person, in a good position, and numbers his friends among the
best. His attentions would be no insult to any woman. That a pretty
young girl should be admired is no uncommon thing; that more than one
man should want to marry her is nothing derogatory. You may not care to
accept him for a son-in-law----"
"She should not marry him if she never married at all!" thundered the
irascible old man. "I had other and better plans for her. Some months
ago one of our most estimable neighbors, a man of large property
and unsullied reputation, asked for her hand. Being a widower, he
would make no advances until the year of mourning had expired, which
certainly evinced a delicacy worthy of all commendation. Marian knew
she was as good as betrothed. Ha! Louis!" as the young man crossed
the porch. "Tell me the truth, sir? Did you not bring that scheming
adventurer down here to meet Marian?"
"I have no idea to whom you refer. I have no such person on my list of
acquaintances," declared Louis haughtily.
"That beggarly lieutenant! Don't tell me he wouldn't be glad enough to
marry a girl with a good dower."
"I certainly asked Lieutenant Ralston to come with Mr. Carrington. I
knew the Fairfax girls were to be here, but Marian was a surprise to
me."
"You are not telling the truth, young man."
"Very well. Believe as you like." Louis turned on his heel and walked
off indignantly.
"Father," said Mrs. Floyd reprovingly, "Jaqueline must have known. It
was her letter that made all the trouble. I dare say Louis was not in
the plot."
Mrs. Floyd was proud of her fine-looking grandson. He had always been
a favorite.
"Yes; where is that deceitful girl? I warn you, Randolph Mason, that
you will have trouble with one so headstrong and lawless."
"You forget you are speaking of my daughter."
"I don't care whose daughter she is!" the old man roared in his anger.
"I want to tell her that her schemes have fallen through, that she
has only made Marian a miserable, disobedient girl in encouraging this
wicked fancy when she was on the eve of an engagement with her parents'
approval and sanction."
Jaqueline walked across the path and up the steps with her head held
haughtily erect.
"I am here to answer for any crime I may have committed," she said
in a clear, cutting tone. "Papa allows us some liberty in choosing
our friends, and certainly as guests in the house they are under his
supervision. The Fairfaxes were old neighbors. The Carringtons were old
friends of my own mother and her dear cousin. Mr. Ralston is held in
high esteem in Washington. I was not at all sure Marian would come when
I wrote, but I thought it a good opportunity----"
"For that fellow to turn her head with his wretched nonsense, to make
her silly and disobedient and full of romantic notions. But it will
do no good, I tell you! She has been proposed to in due form by Mr.
Greaves, and you may notify your friend that she is engaged. And, Miss
Jaqueline, I warn you not to write her any letters upholding your
views, which are certainly most pernicious and shocking for a young
girl. Until she is married you are not to meet again. I call you a
dangerous girl."
"That will do," said Randolph Mason, coming and taking his daughter's
hand in his. "I think you quite forget yourself, Mr. Floyd. If
Marian had not cared for this young man there would not have been any
trouble. Beware how you compel her to marry one man while her heart is
another's!"
"My daughter has been trained to habits of obedience and respect for
her parents' opinions," returned the old gentleman loftily. "You will
find that you have made a great mistake in the rearing of yours. But,
on the other hand, they have been bereft of a mother's wisdom and care,
such as _your_ mother has given to mine," and he bowed in a courtly
fashion to Mrs. Floyd. "I am afraid that you, madam," turning to Mrs.
Mason, "will find your way a thorny one indeed, if you have any regard
for the probity and welfare of these children you have undertaken to
train."
"We will not go into a discussion of methods," returned Mr. Mason with
a sort of dry austerity. "I am sorry that Marian's meeting Lieutenant
Ralston here should have led to such an unpleasant culmination. Young
people of to-day do have more liberty than the older generation, yet
I should have taken it very hard if Jaqueline Verney's father had
compelled her to marry a man she did not like when she loved me. So we
cannot blame the young man for trying----"
"That was a suitable, sensible match," interrupted Mr. Floyd. "This
is a foolish, sentimental affair. And I have to say if it receives any
more encouragement from this house, it will make a lasting breach. If
Marian should dare to leave her home and throw herself on this fellow's
protection we should cast her out altogether, and she would be no
daughter of ours."
"Father, father!" entreated Mrs. Floyd, placing her hand upon his arm.
"I mean it. This is my warning. I will not be interfered with."
Mr. Mason had been standing beside his wife's chair. Now he advanced
toward his stepfather.
"I have made my apology. I am sorry such a thing should have happened
here, though I cannot find it in my heart to blame the young people.
And now let us heal the difference. Have a glass of wine and some
refreshments."
"We must return at once. It is a long ride. But I wanted you to
know what your daughter's meddling had led to, and my unalterable
determination. Come, Elizabeth," holding out his hand to his wife.
"We shall be glad to see you and Mrs. Patricia, but for the present I
insist there shall be no communication with the young people."
He glared at the group and turned away. Mr. Mason offered no further
entreaty, but went around to his mother's side.
"Twice you have married the man of your choice," he said in a low tone.
"I suppose you have been very happy. Try and deal gently with Marian
and persuade rather than force."
"You will understand when your girls want to make unsuitable and
willful marriages. You had better look sharply after Jaqueline. When
Marian is left alone she will soon recover her tranquil frame of mind.
Jane is interdicted as well. Jane has grown very frivolous since she
has had so much Washington society. And Mrs. Madison is extremely
worldly and vain, and not to be compared with Mrs. Adams or Mrs.
Washington."
Mrs. Mason rose and bade her guests a formal adieu. Mr. Mason walked
down the broad steps and saw them seated in the coach. When it had
turned into the winding part of the avenue Jaqueline made a rush and
flung her arms around her father's neck.
"Oh, papa, dear!--I never supposed it would make any trouble. And I
wasn't sure Mr. Ralston would come, or Marian either, for that matter,
and I never said a word to Marian. Jane is so much interested in the
matter, and both she and Mr. Jettson like Mr. Ralston so very much. But
grandpapa grows more and more arbitrary----"
"Of course he was very much vexed. I am afraid I am a foolish fellow
and let you children run over me. You don't even seem to stand in awe
of your stepmother. I shall have to get my backbone stiffened by some
process."