"It is a set of teeth, Sir."
Mr. Evan was more a man of deeds than words, therefore he disappeared
at once with a mighty splash, and after repeated divings and much
laughter appeared bearing the chief ornament of Mrs. Penelope Carroll's
comely countenance. Debby looked very pretty and grateful as she
returned her thanks, and Mr. Evan was guilty of a secret wish that all
the worthy lady's features were at the bottom of the sea, that he might
have the satisfaction of restoring them to her attractive niece; but
curbing this unnatural desire, he bowed, saying, gravely,--
"Tell your aunt, if you please, that this little accident will remain a
dead secret, so far as I am concerned, and I am very glad to have been
of service at such a critical moment."
Whereupon Mr. Evan marched again into the briny deep, and Debby trotted
away to her aunt, whom she found a clammy heap of blue flannel and
despair. Mrs. Carroll's temper was ruffled, and though she joyfully
rattled in her teeth, she said, somewhat testily, when Debby's story
was done,--
"Now that man will have a sort of claim on us, and we must be civil,
whoever he is. Dear! dear! I wish it had been Joe Leavenworth instead.
Evan,--I don't remember any of our first families with connections of
that name, and I dislike to be under obligations to a person of that
sort, for there's no knowing how far he may presume; so, pray, be
careful, Dora."
"I think you are very ungrateful, Aunt Pen; and if Mr. Evan should
happen to be poor, it does not become me to turn up my nose at him, for
I'm nothing but a make-believe myself just now. I don't wish to go down
upon my knees to him, but I do intend to be as kind to him as I should
to that conceited Leavenworth boy; yes, kinder even; for poor people
value such things more, as I know very well."
Mrs. Carroll instantly recovered her temper, changed the subject, and
privately resolved to confine her prejudices to her own bosom, as they
seemed to have an aggravating effect upon the youthful person whom she
had set her heart on disposing of to the best advantage.
Debby took her swimming-lesson with much success, and would have
achieved her dinner with composure, if white-aproned gentlemen had not
effectually taken away her appetite by whisking bills-of-fare into her
hands, and awaiting her orders with a fatherly interest, which induced
them to congregate mysterious dishes before her, and blandly rectify
her frequent mistakes. She survived the ordeal, however, and at four
p.m. went to drive with "that Leavenworth boy" in the finest turnout
----- could produce. Aunt Pen then came off guard, and with a sigh of
satisfaction subsided into a peaceful doze, still murmuring, even in
her sleep,--
"Propinquity, my love, propinquity works wonders."
"Aunt Pen, are you a modest woman?" asked the young crusader against
established absurdities, as she came into the presence-chamber that
evening ready for the hop.
"Bless the child, what does she mean?" cried Mrs. Carroll, with a start
that twitched her back-hair out of Victorine's hands.
"Would you like to have a daughter of yours go to a party looking as I
look?" continued her niece, spreading her airy dress, and standing very
erect before her astonished relative.
"Why, of course I should, and be proud to own such a charming
creature," regarding the slender white shape with much
approbation,--adding, with a smile, as she met the girl's eye,--
"Ah, I see the difficulty, now; you are disturbed because there is not
a bit of lace over these pretty shoulders of yours. Now don't be
absurd, Dora; the dress is perfectly proper, or Madame Tiphany never
would have sent it home. It is the fashion, child; and many a girl with
such a figure would go twice as decolletee, and think nothing of it, I
assure you."
Debby shook her head with an energy that set the pink heather-bells
a-tremble in her hair, and her color deepened beautifully as she said,
with reproachful eyes,--
"Aunt Pen, I think there is a better fashion in every young girl's
heart than any Madame Tiphany can teach. I am very grateful for all
you have done for me, but I cannot go into public in such an undress as
this; my mother would never allow it, and father never forgive it.
Please don't ask me to, for indeed I cannot do it even for you."
Debby looked so pathetic that both mistress and maid broke into a laugh
which somewhat reassured the young lady, who allowed her determined
features to relax into a smile, as she said,--
"Now, Aunt Pen, you want me to look pretty and be a credit to you; but
how would you like to see my face the color of those geraniums all the
evening?"
"Why, Dora, you are out of your mind to ask such a thing, when you know
it's the desire of my life to keep your color down and make you look
more delicate," said her aunt, alarmed at the fearful prospect of a
peony-faced protegee.
"Well, I should be anything but that, if I wore this gown in its
present waistless condition; so here is a remedy which will prevent
such a calamity and ease my mind."
As she spoke, Debby tied on her little blonde fichu with a gesture
which left nothing more to be said.
Victorine scolded, and clasped her hands; but Mrs. Carroll, fearing to
push her authority too far, made a virtue of necessity, saying,
resignedly,--
"Have your own way, Dora, but in return oblige me by being agreeable to
such persons as I may introduce to you; and some day, when I ask a
favor, remember how much I hope to do for you, and grant it cheerfully."
"Indeed I will, Aunt Pen, if it is anything I can do without disobeying
mother's 'notions' as you call them. Ask me to wear an orange-colored
gown, or dance with the plainest, poorest man in the room, and I'll do
it; for there never was a kinder aunt than mine in all the world,"
cried Debby, eager to atone for her seeming wilfulness, and really
grateful for her escape from what seemed to her benighted mind a very
imminent peril.
Like a clover-blossom in a vase of camellias little Debby looked that
night among the dashing or languid women who surrounded her; for she
possessed the charm they had lost,--the freshness of her youth.
Innocent gayety sat smiling in her eyes, healthful roses bloomed upon
her cheek, and maiden modesty crowned her like a garland. She was the
creature that she seemed, and, yielding to the influence of the hour,
danced to the music of her own blithe heart. Many felt the spell whose
secret they had lost the power to divine, and watched the girlish
figure as if it were a symbol of their early aspirations dawning
freshly from the dimness of their past. More than one old man thought
again of some little maid whose love made his boyish days a pleasant
memory to him now. More than one smiling fop felt the emptiness of his
smooth speech, when the truthful eyes looked up into his own; and more
than one pale woman sighed regretfully with herself, "I, too, was a
happy-hearted creature once!"
"That Mr. Evan does not seem very anxious to claim our acquaintance,
after all, and I think better of him on that account. Has he spoken to
you to-night, Dora?" asked Mrs. Carroll, as Debby dropped down beside
her after a "splendid polka."
"No, ma'am, he only bowed. You see some people are not so presuming as
other people thought they were; for we are not the most attractive
beings on the planet; therefore a gentleman can be polite and then
forget us without breaking any of the Ten Commandments. Don't be
offended with him yet, for he may prove to be some great creature with
a finer pedigree than any of your first families.' Mr. Leavenworth, as
you know everybody, perhaps you can relieve Aunt Pen's mind, by telling
her something about the tall, brown man standing behind the lady with
salmon-colored hair."
Mr. Joe, who was fanning the top of Debby's head with the best
intentions in life, took a survey, and answered readily,--
"Why, that's Frank Evan. I know him, and a deused good fellow he
is,--though he don't belong to our set, you know."
"Indeed! pray, tell us something about him, Mr. Leavenworth. We met in
the cars, and he did us a favor or two. Who and what is the man?"
asked Mrs. Carroll, relenting at once toward a person who was favorably
spoken of by one who did belong to her "set."
"Well, let me see," began Mr. Joe, whose narrative powers were not
great. "He is a bookkeeper in my Uncle Josh Loring's importing concern,
and a powerful smart man, they say. There's some kind of clever story
about his father's leaving a load of debts, and Frank's working a
deused number of years till they were paid. Good of him, wasn't it?
Then, just as he was going to take things easier and enjoy life a bit,
his mother died, and that rather knocked him up, you see. He fell
sick, and came to grief generally, Uncle Josh said; so he was ordered
off to get righted, and here he is, looking like a tombstone. I've a
regard for Frank, for he took care of me through the smallpox a year
ago, and I don't forget things of that sort; so, if you wish to be
introduced, Mrs. Carroll, I'll trot him out with pleasure, and make a
proud man of him."
Mrs. Carroll glanced at Debby, and as that young lady was regarding Mr.
Joe with a friendly aspect, owing to the warmth of his words, she
graciously assented, and the youth departed on his errand. Mr. Evan
went through the ceremony with a calmness wonderful to behold,
considering the position of one lady and the charms of the other, and
soon glided into the conversation with the ease of a most accomplished
courtier.
"Now I must tear myself away, for I'm engaged to that stout Miss
Bandoline for this dance. She's a friend of my sister's, and I must do
the civil, you know; powerful slow work it is, too, but I pity the poor
soul,--upon my life, I do;" and Mr. Joe assumed the air of a martyr.