IV

After breakfast--an almost hilarious meal, for Emory and Sally Carter

were in the highest spirits and sparred with much vigour--Betty and

Harriet went for a walk. There was a long level path about the lake for

a mile or more before they turned into the forest, and Betty noted that

Harriet, although her gait still betrayed indolence, held herself with

an air of unmistakable pride. She had improved in other respects; her

arrangement of dress and hair no longer looked rural, she not only had

ceased to bite her nails, but had put them in vivid order, and the

pronunciation of her words was wholly white.

"She will be a social success one of these days," thought Betty, "or

with that voice and beauty she could doubtless win fame and wealth, and

have a brilliant and enjoyable life. The tug will come when she wants

to marry; but perhaps she won't want to for a long while--or will fall

in love with a foreigner who won't mind."

She longed to ask Harriet if she were happy, if she had forgotten; but

she dreaded reviving a distasteful subject. She would be glad never to

hear it alluded to again.

Harriet did not allude to it. She talked of her studies, of the many

pleasures she had found in Washington, of the kindness of Mr. Emory and

Sally Carter, and of her delight to see Betty again. As she talked,

Betty decided that the change in her went below the surface. She had

regained all the self-control that her sudden change of circumstances

had threatened, and something more. It was not hardness, nor was it

exactly coldness. It was rather a studied aloofness. "Has she decided

to shut herself up within herself?" thought Betty. "Does she think that

will make life easier for her?"

Aloud she said,--"Would not you like to go to Europe for a year or so?

I could easily find a chaperon, and you would enjoy it."

"Oh, yes, I shall enjoy it. I feel as if I held the world in the hollow

of my hand, now that I have got used to gratifying every wish;" and she

threw back her head and dilated her nostril.

"What _have_ I launched upon the world?" thought Betty. "She certainly

will even with Fate in some way." But she said, "I am glad you and

Sally get on well. She has her peculiarities."

"I reckon I could get on with any one; but she doesn't like me, all the

same."

"Are you sure? Why shouldn't she?"

"I don't know," replied Miss Walker, dryly. "Women don't always

understand each other."

Sally's name suggested the housekeeper to Betty.

"I don't want you to be offended with me, Harriet," she said

hesitatingly, "if I ask you not to be familiar with Miss Trumbull. You

have not had the experience with that type that I have had. You cannot

give them an inch. If you treat them consistently as upper servants

when they are in your employ, and ignore them if they are not, they

will keep their place and give you no annoyance; but treat them with

something more than common decency and they leap at once for equality."

"Well--you must remember that I was not always so fine as I am now, and

Miss Trumbull does not seem so much of an inferior to me as she does to

you. To tell you the truth, it does me good to come down off my high

horse occasionally. I reckon I'll get over that; sometimes I want to so

hard I could step on everybody that is common and second-class. I don't

deny I'm as ambitious as I reckon I've got a right to be, but old

habits are strong, and I'm lazy, and it's lonesome up here. Your mother

and Major Carter talk from morning till night about the South before

the War. Mr. Emory and Sally are always together, and talk so much

about things I don't understand that I feel in the way. Miss Trumbull

knows the private affairs of most every one in her village, and amuses

me with her gossip; that is all."

Betty pricked up her ears at one of Harriet's revelation, and let the

painful fact of her hospitality for vulgar gossip pass unnoticed.

"Do you mean," she asked, "do you think that Mr. Emory is beginning to

care for Sally?"

"One can never be sure. I am certain he likes and admires her."

"Oh, yes, he always has done that. But I wish he would fall in love

with her. I am nearly sure that she more than likes him."

"I am quite sure," said Harriet, dryly. "She would marry him about as

quickly as he asked her. I knew that the first time I saw them

together."

"And she certainly would make him happy," said Betty, thinking aloud.

"She is so bright and amusing and cheerful. She is the only person I

know who can always make him laugh, and the more he laughs the better

it is for him, poor old chap! And I think he is too old now for the

nonsense of ruining his happiness because a woman has more

money--Harriet!"

Harriet had one of those mouths that look small in repose, but widen

surprisingly with laughter. Betty, who had only seen her smile slightly

at rare intervals, happened to glance up. Harriet's mouth had stretched

itself into a grin revealing nearly every tooth in her head. And it was

the fatuous grin of the negro, and again Betty saw her black. She

gasped and covered her face with her hands.

"Oh, never do that again," she said sharply. "Never laugh again as long

as you live. Oh, poor girl! Poor girl!"

"I won't ask you what you mean," said Harriet, hurriedly. "I reckon I

can guess. Thank you for one more kindness."

And the horror of that grin remained so long with Betty that it was

some time before she thought to wonder what had caused it.

V

Betty amused herself for the next day or two observing Jack Emory and

Sally Carter. They unquestionably enjoyed each other's society, and

Sally at times looked almost pretty again. But at the end of the second

day Miss Madison shook her head.

"He is not in love," she thought. "It does not affect him in that way."

And she felt more satisfaction in her discovery than she would have

anticipated. A woman would have a man go through life with only a skull

cap where his surrendered scalp had been. To grow another is an insult

to her power and pains her vanity.

It occurred to Betty that she was not the only observant person in the

house. She seemed always stumbling over Miss Trumbull, who did not

appear to listen at doors but was usually as closely within ear-shot as

she could get. It was idle to suppose that the woman had any malignant

motive in that well-conducted household, and she seemed to be

good-natured and even kindly. Interest in other people's affairs was

evidently, save vanity, her strongest passion. It was the natural

result of an empty life and a common mind. But simple or not, it was

objectionable.

Her vanity, her mistress had cause to discover, was more so. On

Wednesday morning Betty returned home from a long tramp, earlier than

was her habit, and went to her room. Miss Trumbull was standing before

the mirror trying on one of her hats.

"That's real becomin' to me," she drawled, as Miss Madison entered the

room. "I always could wear a hat turned up on one side, and most of

your colours would suit me."

Betty controlled her temper, but the effort hurt her. She would have

liked to pour her scorn all over the creature.

"You may have the hat," she said. "Only do me the favour not to enter

my room again unless I send for you. The maid is very neat, and it

needs no inspection."

The woman's face turned a dark red. "I'm sorry you're mad," she said,

"but there's no harm, as I can see, in tryin' on a hat."

"It is a matter of personal taste, not of right or wrong. I

particularly dislike having my things touched."

"Oh, of course I won't, then; but I like nice things, and I haven't

seen too many of them."

Again Betty relented. "I will leave you a good many at the end of the

summer," she said. And the woman thanked her very nicely and went away.

"I am glad I was not brutal to her," thought Betty. "Democracy is a

great institution in spite of its nuisances. Still, I admire Hamilton

more than Jefferson."

When, that night, Mrs. Madison had a painful seizure, and Miss Trumbull

was sympathetic and efficient, sacrificing every hour of her night's

rest, Betty was doubly thankful that she had not been brutal. In the

morning she gave her a wrap that matched the hat. Miss Trumbull tried

it on at once, and revolved three times before the mirror, then

strutted off with such evident delight in her stylish appearance that

Betty's smile was almost sympathetic. But she dared not be more

gracious, and Miss Trumbull only approached her when it was necessary.

On Thursday afternoon Betty and Sally were rowing on the lake when the

latter said abruptly,--

"Have you noticed anything between Jack and Harriet?"