MISS BLESSING.
To consider the evening party at Warriner's a scene of "dissipation"—as
some of the good old people of the neighborhood undoubtedly did—was
about as absurd as to call butter-milk an intoxicating beverage.
Anything more simple and innocent could not well be imagined. The very
awkwardness which everybody felt, and which no one exactly knew how to
overcome, testified of virtuous ignorance. The occasion was no more than
sufficed for the barest need of human nature. Young men and women must
come together for acquaintance and the possibilities of love, and,
fortunately, neither labor nor the severer discipline of their elders
can prevent them.
Where social recreation thus only exists under discouraging conditions,
ease and grace and self-possession cannot be expected. Had there been
more form, in fact, there would have been more ease. A conventional
disposition of the guests would have reduced the loose elements of the
company to some sort of order; the shy country nature would have taken
refuge in fixed laws, and found a sense of freedom therein. But there
were no generally understood rules; the young people were brought
together, delighted yet uncomfortable, craving yet shrinking from speech
and jest and song, and painfully working their several isolations into a
warmer common atmosphere.
On this occasion, the presence of a stranger, and that stranger a lady,
and that lady a visitor from the city, was an additional restraint. The
dread of a critical eye is most keenly felt by those who secretly
acknowledge their own lack of social accomplishment. Anna Warriner, to
be sure, had been loud in her praises of "dear Julia," and the guests
were prepared to find all possible beauty and sweetness; but they
expected, none the less, to be scrutinized and judged.
Bob Warriner met his friends at the gate and conducted them to the
parlor, whither the young ladies, who had been watching the arrival, had
retreated. They were disposed along the walls, silent and cool, except
Miss Blessing, who occupied a rocking-chair in front of the
mantel-piece, where her figure was in half-shadow, the lamplight only
touching some roses in her hair. As the gentlemen were presented, she
lifted her face and smiled upon each, graciously offering a slender
hand. In manner and attitude, as in dress, she seemed a different being
from the plump, ruddy, self-conscious girls on the sofas. Her dark hair
fell about her neck in long, shining ringlets; the fairness of her face
heightened the brilliancy of her eyes, the lids of which were slightly
drooped as if kindly veiling their beams; and her lips, although thin,
were very sweetly and delicately curved. Her dress, of some white, foamy
texture, hung about her like a trailing cloud, and the cluster of
rosebuds on her bosom lay as if tossed there.
The young men, spruce as they had imagined themselves to be, suddenly
felt that their clothes were coarse and ill-fitting, and that the girls
of the neighborhood, in their neat gingham and muslin dresses, were not
quite so airy and charming as on former occasions. Miss Blessing,
descending to them out of an unknown higher sphere, made their
deficiencies unwelcomely evident; she attracted and fascinated them, yet
was none the less a disturbing influence. They made haste to find seats,
after which a constrained silence followed.
There could be no doubt of Miss Blessing's amiable nature. She looked
about with a pleasant expression, half smiled—but deprecatingly, as if
to say, "Pray, don't be offended!"—at the awkward silence, and then
said, in a clear, carefully modulated voice: "It is beautiful to arrive
at twilight, but how charming it must be to ride home in the moonlight;
so different from our lamps!"
The guests looked at each other, but as she had seemed to address no one
in particular, so each hesitated, and there was no immediate reply.
"But is it not awful, tell me, Elizabeth, when you get into the shadows
of the forests? we are so apt to associate all sorts of unknown dangers
with forests, you know," she continued.
The young lady thus singled out made haste to answer: "O, no! I rather
like it, when I have company."
Elwood Withers laughed. "To be sure!" he exclaimed; "the shade is full
of opportunities."
Then there were little shrieks, and some giggling and blushing. Miss
Blessing shook her fan warningly at the speaker.
"_How_ wicked in you! I hope you will have to ride home alone to-night,
after that speech. But you are all courageous, compared with _us_. We
are really so restricted in the city, that it's a wonder we have any
independence at all. In many ways, we are like children."
"O Julia, dear!" protested Anna Warriner, "and _such_ advantages as you
have! I shall never forget the day Mrs. Rockaway called—her husband's
cashier of the Commercial Bank" (this was said in a parenthesis to the
other guests)—"and brought you all the news direct from head-quarters,
as she said."
"Yes," Miss Blessing answered, slowly, casting down her eyes, "there
must be two sides to everything, of course; but how much we miss until
we know the country! Really, I quite envy you."
Joseph had found himself, almost before he knew it, in a corner, beside
Lucy Henderson. He felt soothed and happy, for of all the girls present
he liked Lucy best. In the few meetings of the young people which he had
attended, he had been drawn towards her by an instinct founded, perhaps,
on his shyness and the consciousness of it; for she alone had the power,
by a few kindly, simple words, to set him at ease with himself. The
straightforward glance of her large brown eyes seemed to reach the self
below the troubled surface. However much his ears might have tingled
afterwards, as he recalled how frankly and freely he had talked with
her, he could only remember the expression of an interest equally frank,
upon her face. She never dropped one of those amused side-glances, or
uttered one of those pert, satirical remarks, the recollection of which
in other girls stung him to the quick.
Their conversation was interrupted, for when Miss Blessing spoke, the
others became silent. What Elwood Withers had said of the phenomena of
love, however, lingered in Joseph's mind, and he began, involuntarily,
to examine the nature of his feeling for Lucy Henderson. Was she not
often in his thoughts? He had never before asked himself the question,
but now he suddenly became conscious that the hope of meeting her,
rather than any curiosity concerning Miss Blessing, had drawn him to
Warriner's. Would he rather touch the edge of her dress than kiss
anybody else? That question drew his eyes to her lips, and with a soft
shock of the heart, he became aware of their freshness and sweetness as
never before. To touch the edge of her dress! Elwood had said nothing of
the lovelier and bolder desire which brought the blood swiftly to his
cheeks. He could not help it that their glances met,—a moment only, but
an unmeasured time of delight and fear to him,—and then Lucy quickly
turned away her head. He fancied there was a heightened color on her
face, but when she spoke to him a few minutes afterwards it was gone,
and she was as calm and composed as before.
In the mean time there had been other arrivals; and Joseph was presently
called upon to give up his place to some ladies from the neighboring
town. Many invitations had been issued, and the capacity of the parlor
was soon exhausted. Then the sounds of merry chat on the portico invaded
the stately constraint of the room; and Miss Blessing, rising gracefully
and not too rapidly, laid her hands together and entreated Anna
Warriner,—
"O, _do_ let us go outside! I think we are well enough acquainted now to
sit on the steps together."
She made a gesture, slight but irresistibly inviting, and all arose.
While they were cheerfully pressing out through the hall, she seized
Anna's arm and drew her back into the dusky nook under the staircase.
"Quick, Anna!" she whispered; "who is the roguish one they call Elwood?
_What_ is he?"
"A farmer; works his father's place on shares."
"Ah!" exclaimed Miss Blessing, in a peculiar tone; "and the blue-eyed,
handsome one, who came in with him? He looks almost like a boy."
"Joseph Asten? Why, he's twenty-two or three. He has one of the finest
properties in the neighborhood, and money besides, they say; lives
alone, with an old dragon of an aunt as housekeeper. Now, Julia dear,
there's a chance for you!"
"Pshaw, you silly Anna!" whispered Miss Blessing, playfully pinching her
ear; "you know I prefer intellect to wealth."
"As for that"—Anna began, but her friend was already dancing down the
hall towards the front door, her gossamer skirts puffing and floating
out until they brushed the walls on either side. She hummed to herself,
"O Night! O lovely Night!" from the _Désert_, skimmed over the doorstep,
and sank, subsiding into an ethereal heap, against one of the pillars of
the portico. Her eyelids were now fully opened, and the pupils, the
color of which could not be distinguished in the moonlight, seemed
wonderfully clear and brilliant.
"Now, Mr. Elwood—O, excuse me, I mean Mr. Withers," she began, "you must
repeat your joke for my benefit. I missed it, and I feel so foolish when
I can't laugh with the rest."
Anna Warriner, standing in the door, opened her eyes very wide at what
seemed to her to be the commencement of a flirtation; but before Elwood
Withers could repeat his rather stupid fun, she was summoned to the
kitchen by her mother, to superintend the preparation of the
refreshments.
Miss Blessing made her hay while the moon shone. She so entered into the
growing spirit of the scene and accommodated herself to the speech and
ways of the guests, that in half an hour it seemed as if they had always
known her. She laughed with their merriment, and flattered their
sentiment with a tender ballad or two, given in a veiled but not
unpleasant voice, and constantly appealed to their good-nature by the
phrase: "Pray, don't mind me at all; I'm like a child let out of
school!" She tapped Elizabeth Fogg on the shoulder, stealthily tickled
Jane McNaughton's neck with a grass-blade, and took the roses from her
hair to stick into the buttonholes of the young men.
"Just see Julia!" whispered Anna Warriner to her half-dozen intimates;
"didn't I tell you she was the life of society?"
Joseph had quite lost his uncomfortable sense of being watched and
criticized; he enjoyed the unrestraint of the hour as much as the rest.
He was rather relieved to notice that Elwood Withers seemed uneasy, and
almost willing to escape from the lively circle around Miss Blessing. By
and by the company broke into smaller groups, and Joseph again found
himself near the pale pink dress which he knew. What was it that
separated him from her? What had slipped between them during the
evening? Nothing, apparently; for Lucy Henderson, perceiving him,
quietly moved nearer. He advanced a step, and they were side by side.
"Do you enjoy these meetings, Joseph?" she asked.
"I think I should enjoy everything," he answered, "if I were a little
older, or—or—"
"Or more accustomed to society? Is not that what you meant? It is only
another kind of schooling, which we must all have. You and I are in the
lowest class, as we once were,—do you remember?"
"I don't know why," said he, "—but I must be a poor scholar. See Elwood,
for instance!"
"Elwood!" Lucy slowly repeated; "he is another kind of nature,
altogether."
There was a moment's silence. Joseph was about to speak, when something
wonderfully soft touched his cheek, and a delicate, violet-like odor
swept upon his senses. A low, musical laugh sounded at his very ear.
"There! Did I frighten you?" said Miss Blessing. She had stolen behind
him, and, standing on tiptoe, reached a light arm over his shoulder, to
fasten her last rosebud in the upper buttonhole of his coat.
"I quite overlooked you, Mr. Asten," she continued. "Please turn a
little towards me. Now!—has it not a charming effect? I do like to see
some kind of ornament about the gentlemen, Lucy. And since they can't
wear anything in their hair,—but, tell me, wouldn't a wreath of flowers
look well on Mr. Asten's head?"
"I can't very well imagine such a thing," said Lucy.
"No? Well, perhaps I am foolish: but when one has escaped from the
tiresome conventionalities of city life, and comes back to nature, and
delightful natural society, one feels so free to talk and think! Ah, you
don't know what a luxury it is, just to be one's true self!"
Joseph's eyes lighted up, and he turned towards Miss Blessing, as if
eager that she should continue to speak.
"Lucy," said Elwood Withers, approaching; "you came with the
McNaughtons, didn't you?"
"Yes: are they going?"
"They are talking of it now; but the hour is early, and if you don't
mind riding on a pillion, you know my horse is gentle and strong—"
"That's right, Mr. Withers!" interrupted Miss Blessing. "I depend upon
you to keep Lucy with us. The night is at its loveliest, and we are all
just fairly enjoying each other's society. As I was saying, Mr. Asten,
you cannot conceive what a new world this is to _me_: oh, I begin to
breathe at last!"
Therewith she drew a long, soft inspiration, and gently exhaled it
again, ending with a little flutter of the breath, which made it seem
like a sigh. A light laugh followed.
"I know, without looking at your face, that you are smiling at me," said
she. "But you have never experienced what it is to be shy and uneasy in
company; to feel that you are expected to talk, and not know what to
say, and when you do say something, to be startled at the sound of your
voice; to stand, or walk, or sit, and imagine that everybody is watching
you; to be introduced to strangers, and be as awkward as if both spoke
different languages, and were unable to exchange a single thought. Here,
in the country, you experience nothing of all this."
"Indeed, Miss Blessing," Joseph replied, "it is just the same to us—to
me—as city society is to you."
"How glad I am!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands. "It is very selfish
in me to say it, but I can't help being sincere towards the Sincere. I
shall now feel ever so much more freedom in talking with you, Mr. Asten,
since we have one experience in common. Don't you think, if we all knew
each other's natures truly, we should be a great deal more at ease,—and
consequently happier?"
She spoke the last sentence in a low, sweet, penetrating tone, lifted
her face to meet his gaze a moment, the eyes large, clear, and appealing
in their expression, the lips parted like those of a child, and then,
without waiting for his answer, suddenly darted away, crying, "Yes, Anna
dear!"
"What is it, Julia?" Anna Warriner asked.
"O, didn't you call me? Somebody surely called some Julia, and I'm the
only one, am I not? I've just arranged Mr. Asten's rosebud so prettily,
and now all the gentlemen are decorated. I'm afraid they think I take
great liberties for a stranger, but then, you all make me forget that I
am strange. Why is it that everybody is so good to me?"
She turned her face upon the others with a radiant expression. Then,
there were earnest protestations from the young men, and a few impulsive
hugs from the girls, which latter Miss Blessing returned with kisses.
Elwood Withers sat beside Lucy Henderson, on the steps of the portico.
"Why, we owe it to you that we're here to-night, Miss Blessing!" he
exclaimed. "We don't come together half often enough as it is; and what
better could we do than meet again, somewhere else, while you are in the
country?"
"O, how delightful! how kind!" she cried. "And while the lovely
moonlight lasts! Shall I really have another evening like this?"
The proposition was heartily seconded, and the only difficulty was, how
to choose between the three or four invitations which were at once
proffered. There was nothing better to do than to accept all, in turn,
and the young people pledged themselves to attend. The new element which
they had dreaded in advance, as a restraint, had shown itself to be the
reverse: they had never been so free, so cheerfully excited. Miss
Blessing's unconscious ease of manner, her grace and sweetness, her
quick, bright sympathy with country ways, had so warmed and fused them,
that they lost the remembrance of their stubborn selves and yielded to
the magnetism of the hour. Their manners, moreover, were greatly
improved, simply by their forgetting that they were expected to have
any.
Joseph was one of the happiest sharers in this change. He eagerly gave
his word to be present at the entertainments to come: his heart beat
with delight at the prospect of other such evenings. The suspicion of a
tenderer feeling towards Lucy Henderson, the charm of Miss Blessing's
winning frankness, took equal possession of his thoughts; and not until
he had said good night did he think of his companion on the homeward
road. But Elwood Withers had already left, carrying Lucy Henderson on a
pillion behind him.
"Is it ten o'clock, do you think?" Joseph asked of one of the young men,
as they rode out of the gate.
The other answered with a chuckle: "Ten? It's nigher morning than
evening!"
The imp on the crupper struck his claws deep into Joseph's sides. He
urged his horse into a gallop, crossed the long rise in the road and
dashed along the valley-level, with the cool, dewy night air whistling
in his locks. After entering the lane leading upward to his home, he
dropped the reins and allowed the panting horse to choose his own gait.
A light, sparkling through the locust-trees, pierced him with the sting
of an unwelcome external conscience, in which he had no part, yet which
he could not escape.
Rachel Miller looked wearily up from her knitting as he entered the
room. She made a feeble attempt to smile, but the expression of her face
suggested imminent tears.
"Aunt, why did you wait?" said he, speaking rapidly. "I forgot to look
at my watch, and I really thought it was no more than ten—"
He paused, seeing that her eyes were fixed. She was looking at the tall
old-fashioned clock. The hand pointed to half-past twelve, and every
cluck of the ponderous pendulum said, distinctly, "Late! late! late!"
He lighted a candle in silence, said, "Good night, Aunt!" and went up to
his room.
"Good night, Joseph!" she solemnly responded, and a deep, hollow sigh
reached his ear before the door was closed.
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