A NEW TYPE.
When the two entered the supper-room together a little commotion was
caused by their arrival. At first the supple young figure in violet
and gray was not recognized. It was not the figure people had been
used to, it seemed so tall and slenderly round. The reddish-brown hair
was combed high and made into soft puffs; it made the pretty head seem
more delicately shaped, and showed how white and graceful the back of
the slender neck was. It was several minutes before the problem was
solved. Then a sharp young woman exclaimed, _sotto voce_:
"It's the little country-girl, in new clothes--in clothes that fit.
Would you believe it?"
"Don't look at your plate so steadily," whispered Miss Ferrol. "Lean
back and fan yourself as if you did not hear. You must never show that
you hear things."
"I shall be obliged to give her a few hints now and then," she had said
to herself beforehand. "But I feel sure when she once catches the cue
she will take it."
It really seemed as if she did, too. She had looked at herself long
and steadily after she had been dressed, and when she turned away from
the glass she held her head a trifle more erect, and her cheeks had
reddened. Perhaps what she had recognized in the reflection she had
seen had taught her a lesson. But she said nothing. In a few days
Olivia herself was surprised at the progress she had made. Sanguine as
she was, she had not been quite prepared for the change which had taken
place in her. She had felt sure it would be necessary to teach her to
control her emotions, but suddenly she seemed to have learned to
control them without being told to do so; she was no longer
demonstrative of her affection, she no longer asked innocent questions,
nor did she ever speak of her family. Her reserve was puzzling to
Olivia.
"You are very clever," she said to her one day, the words breaking from
her in spite of herself, after she had sat regarding her in silence for
a few minutes. "You are even cleverer than I thought you were, Louise."
"Was that very clever?" the girl asked.
"Yes, it was," Olivia answered, "but not so clever as you are proving
yourself."
But Louisiana did not smile or blush, as she had expected she would.
She sat very quietly, showing neither pleasure nor shyness, and seeming
for a moment or so to be absorbed in thought.
In the evening when the stages came in they were sitting on the front
gallery together. As the old rattletraps bumped and swung themselves
up the gravel drive, Olivia bent forward to obtain a better view of the
passengers.
"He ought to be among them," she said.
Louisiana laid her hand on her arm.
"Who is that sitting with the driver?" she asked, as the second vehicle
passed them. "Isn't that----"
"To be sure it is!" exclaimed Miss Ferrol.
She would have left her seat, but she found herself detained. Her
companion had grasped her wrist.
"Wait a minute!" she said. "Don't leave me! Oh--I wish I had not done
it!"
Miss Ferrol turned and stared at her in amazement.
She spoke in her old, uncontrolled, childish fashion. She was pale,
and her eyes were dilated.
"What is the matter?" said Miss Ferrol, hurriedly, when she found her
voice. "Is it that you really don't like the idea? If you don't,
there is no need of our carrying it out. It was only nonsense--I beg
your pardon for not seeing that it disturbed you. Perhaps, after all,
it was very bad taste in me----"
But she was not allowed to finish her sentence. As suddenly as it had
altered before, Louisiana's expression altered again. She rose to her
feet with a strange little smile. She looked into Miss Ferrol's
astonished face steadily and calmly.
"Your brother has seen you and is coming toward us," she said. "I will
leave you. We shall see each other again at supper."
And with a little bow she moved away with an air of composure which
left her instructress stunned. She could scarcely recover her
equilibrium sufficiently to greet her brother decently when he reached
her side. She had never been so thoroughly at sea in her life.
After she had gone to her room that night, her brother came and knocked
at the door.
When she opened it and let him in he walked to a chair and threw
himself into it, wearing a rather excited look.
"Olivia," he began at once, "what a bewildering girl!"
Olivia sat down opposite to him, with a composed smile.
"Miss Rogers, of course?" she said.
"Of course," he echoed. And then, after a pause of two or three
seconds, he added, in the tone he had used before: "What a delightfully
mysterious girl!"
"Mysterious!" repeated Olivia.
"There is no other word for it! She has such an adorable face, she
looks so young, and she says so little." And then, with serious
delight, he added: "It is a new type!"
Olivia began to laugh.
"Why are you laughing?" he demanded.
"Because I was so sure you would say that," she answered. "I was
waiting for it."
"But it is true," he replied, quite vehemently. "I never saw anything
like her before. I look at her great soft eyes and I catch glimpses of
expression which don't seem to belong to the rest of her. When I see
her eyes I could fancy for a moment that she had been brought up in a
convent or had lived a very simple, isolated life, but when she speaks
and moves I am bewildered. I want to hear her talk, but she says so
little. She does not even dance. I suppose her relatives are serious
people. I dare say you have not heard much of them from her. Her
reserve is so extraordinary in a girl. I wonder how old she is?"
"Nineteen, I think."
"I thought so. I never saw anything prettier than her quiet way when I
asked her to dance with me. She said, simply, 'I do not dance. I have
never learned.' It was as if she had never thought of it as being an
unusual thing."
He talked of her all the time he remained in the room. Olivia had
never seen him so interested before.
"The fascination is that she seems to be two creatures at once," he
said. "And one of them is stronger than the other and will break out
and reveal itself one day. I begin by feeling I do not understand her,
and that is the most interesting of all beginnings, I long to discover
which of the two creatures is the real one."
When he was going away he stopped suddenly to say:
"How was it you never mentioned her in your letters? I can't
understand that."
"I wanted you to see her for yourself," Olivia answered. "I thought I
would wait."
"Well," he said, after thinking a moment, "I am glad, after all, that
you did."