A STRANGE PROPOSAL.
An hour before Mrs. Lambert commenced her toilet, Mrs. Carter entered
her own private sitting-room in full dress, ready for her duties as a
hostess. Her brother had sent up word that he wished to speak with her
before the guests began to arrive, and she was waiting for him with some
impatience, for the grand epoch was drawing nigh, and she was rather
anxious about the state of affairs below. She was fanning herself with
vigor, wondering in her heart what Ross could have to say, when the
artist came in.
Then all the good woman’s impatience vanished, and she came forward to
meet him with her usual genial warmth.
“Now, what is it you want to say, Ross? Of course, whatever it is, I am
ready to do it; but we must talk fast, or there’s no knowing what will
go on down stairs.”
“Let your people take care of that, sister, they will know what is
proper,” said Ross, smiling kindly upon the good woman, who laughed in
return.
“You see I did not wear them after all; just a little cluster here, to
gather in the black lace—that don’t amount to anything, you know.”
Here Mrs. Carter glanced down at her silver-grey satin and soft black
lace with something like a sigh. It was not at all the toilet she had
decided on, but Ross, with suggestive insinuations, had toned down the
superb conglomeration of lace, satin and jewels, into this rich,
matronly dress, which really made Mrs. Carter look almost aristocratic.
“Nothing could be more becoming,” said Ross, in reply to her
half-reproachful glance, “I am so pleased that you preferred to wear the
lace I brought you. As for the brooch, it is just enough.”
“Well, dear, if you think so; Carter rather wanted me to flare out a
little more, but, of course, you know best. Now, what is it you want to
talk about? Sit down here, and let us take it comfortable.”
Ross seated himself upon the couch from which Mrs. Carter swept back her
garments to make room for him.
“Sister,” he said, with a faint quiver in his voice, “I have been
thinking that you and I would be much happier in this great house, if we
had some young person to enliven it.”
Mrs. Carter drew back in her seat, and lifted both hands,
“Herman Ross, _does_ this mean that you want to marry a young wife?”
Ross smiled and shook his head.
“No, sister, I have no thought of marrying any one; but I do think of
adopting a girl, and want you to help me.”
“Adopting a girl? Why, Ross, that is just what I have been thinking of
myself—a pretty, little, curly-headed child, like one that’s in her
grave. Of course, I’ll help you; more than that, I’ll do it for you—she
shall be mine and Carter’s heiress.”
“I was thinking of one who shall be my heiress,” said Ross, gently. “I
cannot give her millions, but there will be enough for us both.”
“Thinking of one—why, who can it be, Ross? I had no idea of your taking
a fancy to any child.”
“Nor have I, this is a young lady.”
“You? You, Ross? A young lady?”
“Yes, I will adopt her; all that I have or may have, shall, in the end,
be hers. What I want of you, sister, is motherly protection for the
girl. You will not refuse her a home?”
“Refuse her! When did I refuse you anything? But a girl—a young lady—I
don’t understand. Is it any one I know?”
“You have seen her. You remember the young lady who helped select your
shawl—Miss Eva Laurence?”
“That splendid creature! You adopt her?
“Yes, I will adopt her; in fact, you must do it for me if possible.”
“And she is to live here?”
“That is what I desire.”
“As my daughter?”
“Would you be ashamed of her?”
“Ashamed? Why you and I can make her like a princess. She can go out
with me in the carriage, write my letters, make calls. She shall have a
maid of her own—shopping money without end.”
“There, there, sister, your heart is running away with you. We must be
kind to the girl without spoiling her. She is a sweet, modest young
creature, rich in feeling and bright as a flower. Let us keep her so.”
“Of course—of course! Carter will be delighted. He does so like a pretty
face, and hers is lovely.”
“But he may not consent?”
“He? Of course he will! All she’s got to do with Carter is to have his
slippers ready, and read the newspaper for him, now and then; for,
between you and me, Carter is not much of a reader, on his own hook. Oh,
he’s sure to like it!”
Ross leaned forward and kissed the flushed cheeks, which had become
rosier and rosier, with the warmth of a generous nature.
“Then we will consider it settled,” he said. “I mentioned it just now,
because this evening will be an excellent time for introducing her as a
friend of the family. That was a part of my idea, when I asked you to
invite her.”
“This evening? Well, why not, she can help me receive. It will be
splendid. I only hope she will be dressed properly—that is, like the
heiress we intend her to be.”
“We need not doubt that—now I will go for her.”
“And I’ll just step down and have a talk with Carter about it.”