Produced by Daniel Fromont.
Susan Warner, 1819-1885 & Anna Warner 1824-1915, The Gold
of Chickaree (1876), Putnam's edition 1876
Produced by Daniel FROMONT
_The Gold of Chickaree_ seen by _The Atlantic monthly_, Volume 39,
Issue 233, March 1877, pp. 370-371
"It is said to criticise _The Gold of Chickaree_, or stories like it,
without making use of such violent methods as excite the scorn of
those who criticise the critics. They say mere denunciation is of no
service and should never be employed; as if there were not too
many books already without truth or beauty, which cry aloud for
some one to point out in print, as every one does in conversation,
their utter worthlessness. _The Gold of Chickaree_ is a continuation
of _Wych Hazel_, and the two stories are as much alike as two
halves of a slate pencil. Wych Hazel herself is rich and
insufferably pert; her lover, Rollo, Dane, Duke, or Olaf, as he is
called indifferently, is rich and in his ways 'masterful.' The earlier
novel ends with the engagement of these two, and here is
described their sudden marriage, which they forebore announcing
even to their guests at dinner, who were unexpectedly delighted by
witnessing this wedding later in the evening. This is a capital
notion for entertaining company, and far superior to music,
singing, or charades. The other incidents of the novel are of the
flimsiest sort; round dancing and the theatre come in for intolerant
abuse. All the poor people get Christmas presents, and one son of
Belial, who is anxious to run away with his neighbors wife, is
bought off for thirty thousand dollars, a mere bagatelle in this
moral Monte Christo. For the same sum of money it might have
been possible to close a theatre for a winter or to bribe penniless
young men to give up dancing a dozen Germans. Besides their
lavish extravagance, the most noteworthy thing about the people is
their morbid self-consciousness; they are never at their ease; they
are forever trying to impress one another with their own brilliant
wit. It is a poor story."
THE
GOLD OF CHICKAREE
BY THE SAME AUTHORS.
WYCH HAZEL.
BY
SUSAN AND ANNA WARNER.
12mo, cloth. Price, $2.00.
"We have not the faintest hesitation in placing this work above
anything the authors have given us, and, furthermore, in placing it
among the very strongest novels in character development which
have been written within the past two years. * * * We can promise
every lover of fine fiction a wholesome feast in the book."
_Boston Traveller_.
"One of the best written and mots entertaining books recently sent
out by any of the favorites of the novel reading public." _Albany
Journal_.
"The Misses Warner have altogether surpassed themselves in this
story, and have produced one of the brightest and breeziest tales of
the season." _N.Y. Evening Mail_.
_Sent, post-paid, upon receipt of price_.
THE
GOLD OF CHICKAREE
BY
SUSAN AND ANNA WARNER,
Authors of "WIDE, WIDE WORLD," and "DOLLARS AND
CENTS," "WYCH HAZEL," etc.
_"Of the gold, the silver, and the brass, and the iron, there is no
number. Arise, therefore, and be doing; and the Lord be with
thee."_2 Chronicles.
NEW YORK
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
27 AND 29 WEST 23D STREET
COPYRIGHT
BY G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS,
1876.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.ON-DIT
CHAPTER II.WHAT COMES OF ON-DIT
CHAPTER III.CROSS THREADS
CHAPTER IV.ABOUT THE GUARDIANSHIP
CHAPTER V.ASLEEP AND AWAKE
CHAPTER VI.A MAN AND HIS MONEY
CHAPTER VII.THE EMERALD
CHAPTER VIII.ACORNS AND ACORN-CUPS
CHAPTER IX.ROLLO'S EXPERIMENT
CHAPTER X.ROLLO'S COMPANY
CHAPTER XI.STARLIGHT AND FIRELIGHT
CHAPTER XII.COFFEE AND BUNS
CHAPTER XIII.UNDER THE CHESTNUT TREES
CHAPTER XIV.THE WORTH OF A FEATHER
CHAPTER XV.CONFIDENTIAL TALK
CHAPTER XVI.DR. ARTHUR'S NEWS
CHAPTER XVII.ALONE IN THE FIGHT
CHAPTER XVIII.SETTLEMENTS
CHAPTER XIX.SCHOOLING
CHAPTER XX.ABOUT CHRISTMAS
CHAPTER XXI.THE LOSS OF POWER
CHAPTER XXII.PREPARATORY FREAKS
CHAPTER XXIII.FOR BETTER FOR WORSE
CHAPTER XXIV.ONE AND ONE ARE TWO
CHAPTER XXV.PRIM'S TRUNK
CHAPTER XXVI.AN ACCOUNT AT THE BANK
CHAPTER XXVII.THE WORLD AND HIS WIFE
CHAPTER XXVIII. PLEASURE BY EXPRESS
CHAPTER XXIX.SOCIAL DUTIES
CHAPTER XXX.A TRAVELLING CLOCK
CHAPTER XXXI.NOVICE WORK
CHAPTER XXXII.SUPPER
CHAPTER XXXIII.ABDICATION
CHAPTER XXXIV.GOLD AT INTEREST
THE
GOLD OF CHICKAREE
CHAPTER I.
ON-DIT.
'Papa,' said Primrose, very thoughtfully, 'do you think Hazel will
marry Duke?'
Dr. Maryland and his daughter were driving homeward after some
business which had taken them to the village.
'She will if she knows what is good for her,' the doctor answered
decidedly.
'But she has been away from Chickaree now nearly a year.'
'I don't know what her guardian is thinking of,' Dr. Maryland said,
somewhat discontentedly.
'Duke is her guardian too,' remarked Primrose.
'You land a fish sometimes best with a long line, my dear.'
'People say she has been very gay at Newport.'
'I am sorry to hear it.'
'Do you think, papa, she would ever settle down and be quiet and
give all such gayety up?'
'The answer to that lies in what I do not know, my dear.'
'Papa,' Primrose went on, after the pause of a minute, 'don't you
think the will was rather hard upon Hazel?'
'No,' said the doctor, decidedly. 'What can a girl want more?'
'But if she does not like Duke?'
'She is not obliged to marry him.'
'But she can't marry anybody else, papa, without losing all her
fortune, that is'
'Till she is twenty-five, my dear; only till she is twenty-five. She is
not obliged to wait any longer than that, and no woman need be
married before she is twenty-five.'
Primrose laughed a little privately at the statement which she did
not combat. She was thinking that Duke did not look at all
depressed, and querying whether it was because he knew more
than she did, or because he did not care. The old buggy stopped
before the door of the long, low, stone house, and the conversation
went no further.
Meanwhile, far away in the city, the young lady in question had
discovered what nobody knew, and at last had unveiled her own
secret. Not doubtingly, as she had glanced at it before, but beyond
question, as an accepted fact. She hid it well from other people;
she was at no pains to hide it from herself. Pains would have been
of no use. If, in the somewhat secluded quiet of the first part of the
winter, she had contrived a little to confuse things, it was no longer
possible the moment she was out in the world again. Well she
knew that she would rather live over three minutes in the red room
when she had unconsciously pleased Mr. Rollo's taste, than to
dance the gayest dance with such men as Stuart Nightingale, or do
miles of promenading with the peers of Mr. May. For to Wych
Hazel, to care for anybody so, was to care not two straws for
anybody else. The existence, almost, of other men sank out of
sight. She heard their compliments, she laughed at their talk, but
through it all neither eye nor ear would have missed the faintest
token of Mr. Rollo's presence; and since he was not there, she
amused herself with mental comparisons not very flattering to the
people at hand. She could not escape their admiration, but it was
rather a bore. She care to have them stand round her, and join her
in the street, and ask her to drive? She enjoy their devotion? 'In
idea' she belonged to somebody else, some time ago; now, the idea
was her own; and she cared no more for the rest of the world than
if they had been so many lay figures. It was not too easy,
sometimes, to hide this; not easy always to look long enough at the
hearts laid at her feet, to give them the sympathetic courtesy which
was their due. She never had tried her hand at flirting; but it was
left for this season to stamp Miss Kennedy as 'the most
unapproachable woman in town.' Which, however, unfortunately,
made her more popular than ever. She was so lovely in her shy
reserve; the hardwon favours were so delightful; the smiles so
witching when they came; and nobody ever suspected that what
she did with all her triumphs was to mentally bestow them on
somebody else. They belonged to him, now, not to her, and for her
had no other value.
It was a very timid consciousness of all this that Hazel allowed
herself, even yet. Thoughts were scolded out of sight and shut up
and hushed; but none the less they had their way; and the sudden
coming of forbidden thoughts, and the half oblivion of things at
hand, made the prettiest work that could be in face and manner. A
sweeter shyness than that of the girl who had nothing to hide
watched all doors that led to her secret; a fairer reserve than mere
timidity kept back what belonged to one man alone. A certain
womanly veil over the girlish face but made the beautiful life
changes more beautiful still. If anything, she looked younger than
she had done the year before.
All this being true, why then did Miss Kennedy throw herself into
the whirl of society, and carry her elder guardian about with her
from place to place, till they had nearly made the round of all the
gay scenes of winter and summer? Very simply and plainly, she
said to herself, because there was nothing else to do. Of course she
could not settle down permanently away from home; and as to
going back to Chickareeto rides, and walks, and talkswith
September hurrying on as if everybody was in a hurry to have it
that was out of the question. The very idea took her breadth away.
Till September Mr. Rollo had pledged himself to be quiet; longer it
could not be expected of him. No, she must keep her distance, and
keep moving; and if she had to meet her fate, meet it at least on a
sudden. She could not sit still and watch it coming, step by step;
she could not even sit still and think about it. If she could have
persuaded Mr. Falkirk, Hazel would have gone straight to Europe,
and stayed there tillshe did not know when. She had an
overpowering dread of going home, and seeing Mr. Rollo, and
having herself and her secret brought out into the open day. So she
rushed about from one gay place to another, and hid herself in the
biggest crowds she could find; and all the while went to his 'penny
readings' (in imagination), and counted the days that were yet left
before the end of September. But the tension began to tell upon
her, and her face took a delicate look that Mr. Falkirk did not like
to see, in spite of the ready colour that flickered there in such fitful
fashion. And then, Dr. Arthur Maryland, watching her one night at
the Ocean House, with his critical eyes, gave his opinion, unasked.
All that appeared was purely professional.
'She would be better at home, Mr. Falkirk, with different
surroundings, and more quiet. Just now she is attempting too
much. But do not tell her I say so.'
The advice chimed in well with Mr. Falkirk's own private notions
and opinions. It pleased him not to have his ward so given up to
society, so engrossed with other people, as for months he had been
obliged to see her. Mr. Falkirk had a vague sense of danger,
comparable to the supposed feelings of a good mother-hen which
has followed her brood of ducklings to the edge of the water. For
Mr. Falkirk's attendance seemed to himself not much more
valuable or efficient to guard from evil than the said mother-hen's
clucking round the pond. True, he stood by, and saw Wych Hazel
was there; he went and came with her; but the waves of the social
entertainment floated her hither and thither, and he could scarce
follow at a distance, much less navigate for her. What she was
doing, or saying, or engaging to do, was quite beyond his ken or
his management. Besides, Mr. Falkirk thought it ill that the
beautiful home at Chickaree should be untenanted; and ill that
Wych Hazel's tastes and habits should be permanently diverted
from home joys and domestic avocations. He was very much in the
dark about Rollo; but, knowing nothing about the secret compact
for the year, and seeing that Rollo did not of late seek his ward's
society, and that Wych Hazel shunned to come near his
neighbourhood, and affected any other place rather, he half
comforted himself with the thought that as yet his little charge was
his only, and her sweet trust and affection unshared by anybody
who had a greater claim.
So Mr. Falkirk issued his decree, and made his arrangements; that
is, he told Wych Hazel he thought she ought to go to Chickaree for
the rest of the season; and, seeing that she must, Wych Hazel
agreed.
It came to be now the end of August. And all through the season,
Rollo had kept at his work or his play in the Hollow, and he had
not sought out Wych Hazel in her various abiding places. Perhaps
he was too busy; perhaps he was constantly expecting that her
wanderings would cease, and she would return to her own home.
Perhaps he guessed partly at the reason for her keeping at a
distance, and would not hurry her by any premature importunity.
And, perhapsfor some men are sohe was willing that she
should run to the end of her line, see all that she cared to see, and
find, if she could find, anything that she liked better than him. It
might have been patiently or impatiently; but Rollo waited, and did
not recalldid not go after her. And now she was coming home.
It was September and one week of it gone. Rollo had ridden over
to Dr. Maryland's to dinner, and the little party was just sitting
down to the table, when Dr. Arthur arrived. He had been, we
know, at Newport, on business of his own, where Wych Hazel and
Mr. Falkirk were, and was just returned after an absence of some
weeks. He was a lion, of course, as any one is in a country home
who has ventured out into the great sea of the world and come
home again; and his sisters could hardly serve him fast enough, or
listen eagerly enough to his talk at the dinner-table. Though Prim
cared most for the sound of his voice, and Mrs. Coles for what it
had to tell.
'And you saw Miss Kennedy, Arthur, did you?' this latter lady
asked, with a view to getting intelligence through various channels
at once, keeping her ears for him and her eyes for Rollo.
'I saw Miss Kennedy.'
'How was she looking, Arthur?' said Prim.
'Not very well, I thought. That is, well according to you ladies, but
not according to us doctors.'
'_Not_ well?' echoed Prim in dismay; while Rollo said nothing and
did not even look.
'Rather delicate, it seemed to me,' said Dr. Arthur. 'But she is
coming to-morrow, Prim, so you can judge for yourself.'
'Is she as much admired as ever?' quoth Mrs. Coles, eyeing Rollo
hard by stealth and not making much of him.
'More. And deserves it.'
'How does she deserve more?' said Rollo.
'I am not good at descriptions,' Dr. Arthur answered, somewhat
briefly.
'I suppose she takes all she gets?' said Prudentia.
'Difficult to do anything else with it.'
'Who is her special admirer now, or the most remarkable? for she
reckons them by scores.'
'All seemed to be special. One or two young Englishmen made
themselves pretty prominent.'
'That Sir Henry somethingwas _he_ one of them? Is he there?'
'Crofton? Yes, he was there.'
'What do people say, Arthur? Who of them is going to have her?'
'People say something. And know nothing.'
'That's truesometimes. But whom does she dance with oftenest?
Did you notice?'
'I saw her dance but once, and so could not notice,' said Dr. Arthur.
'Well, what was that? and whom with? If you saw her dance only
once, that might tell something.'
'No, it might not; for I never went into the ball-room. This once
that I spoke of was at a private party, and the dancing was on the
lawn. Crofton was her partner then.'
'Crofton was her partner! Sir Henry Crofton. Waltzing with her?
Then he'll be the man, you see if he won't. Was he waltzing with
her?'
'Nonsense, Prudentia!' said her sister. 'He won't be the one; and it
proves nothing if she was waltzing with him. Why shouldn't she
waltz with him, as well as with anybody else?'
'You'll see,' said Prudentia. 'Answer my question, Arthur. Was it a
waltz?'
'A waltz they call it,' said Dr. Arthur, with considerable disgust. 'I
should choose a longer name, and call it an abomination.'
'I don't believe Arthur is a good witness, Prim,' said Rollo. 'His
testimony gets confused. Does he ever go walking in his sleep in
these daysnights, I mean?'
'I was awake then,' said Dr. Arthur. 'And why you women don't put
that thing down!'
'Arthur!' said Prim, half laughing but half fearful too, 'it's rather
hard on the people who don't go, to tell them they ought to put a
stop to it; and the people who do go, some of them, do it very
innocently.'
'Yes!' said Dr. Arthur, 'and any man who takes such a young, pure
face into the whirligig ought to be shot!'
'I daresay she'll marry Sir Henry Crofton,' said Mrs. Coles.
But Rollo did not seem terrified, and did not seem to pay much
attention to the whole thing, she thought. He was rather silent the
rest of the dinner; but so he had been the former part of it, ever
since Dr. Arthur had come home to talk. To Prudentia he never
said more words than were civilly necessary. As soon as dinner
was over he mounted and rode away.