The Arrival of Adele
"If any loss thou hast to rue,
Act as though thou wert born anew;
Inquire the meaning of each day,
What each day means, itself will say;
Ne'er let thy breast with hate be supplied,
And to God the future confide."
--_Goethe._
There was a look of anxiety on Doctor Raymond's face as he drove up to
the house that evening. Adele's countenance, too, clouded as she glanced
about for her cousin, but no Bee was to be seen. The scientist assisted
his niece from the carriage, turned the vehicle over to Joel, and
started up the steps. All men dread scenes with their women folk, and he
was no exception to the rule.
"Tired, Adele?" he asked. "I dare say we will run across Beatrice in the
hall."
At this moment Bee came flying out. There was a flower in her hair, and
another at her belt. She looked cool and sweet as only a girl can when
she is exquisitely neat in every detail.
"I just heard you," she said brightly, giving Adele a kiss. "I was
helping Aunt Fanny with the table when I heard your voices. How is Uncle
Henry?"
"Better, Bee. Is dinner ready? I am so hungry."
"All ready," responded Bee. "Come right in. Leave your hat in the hall,
and we will go to the table at once. Are you hungry, too, father?"
"I believe that I am," rejoined Doctor Raymond, whose face had cleared
wonderfully during this conversation. "Have you repeated your success of
yesterday, Beatrice?"
"Adele is not a Lepidopterist, so I did not serve butterflies," laughed
Bee. "I am giving her chocolate ice cream, which is her favorite. Do you
like it too?"
"Yes, indeed. I have not had any in years. Are you a housekeeper also,
Adele?"
"No;" smiled Adele as they sat down to the table. "Mamma and Bee
wouldn't let me muss round. To tell the truth, I don't care much about
such things. My tastes are not all domestic. Bee was always crazy on the
subject. At least when she could spare time from her butterflies."
"Yet she does not strike me as being particularly on that order,"
remarked the scientist musingly. "How came you to take it up, Beatrice?"
"Why, you wrote Aunt Annie that you wished me to," answered Bee as
though that were sufficient reason.
"I believe that Bee would learn Hottentot if she thought it would please
you, Uncle William," added Adele graciously. She was well pleased that
Bee had welcomed her so cordially. "Now, papa is a lawyer, but I don't
know a thing about law. I couldn't tell an appeal from a--from a--What
do I want to say, Bee?"
"From a writ of habeas corpus," suggested Bee.
"Have you studied law also, Beatrice?" queried her father, glancing from
the beautiful face of his niece to the animated one of his daughter.
"No, father. I have heard Uncle Henry talking about his cases, and
picked up a few terms. I don't care for law as I do for science."
"What have you been doing to your hair, Bee?" broke in Adele, suddenly.
"I knew there was something odd about you, but I couldn't tell what it
was until this minute."
Bee's face flushed, but she answered good-naturedly:
"I struck for gold, Adele, but it didn't pan out the pure article."
"I didn't know that you cared about such things," observed Adele with an
involuntary touch to her own golden locks. "You always seemed superior
to such things. It would not look so bad if you would keep it touched
up. It's being so dark at the roots and yellow the rest of the way is
what makes it look queer. Why don't you have it bleached again?"
"Because it's silly," answered Beatrice tersely. "I was foolish to do it
in the first place, and now I shall wear it just as it is until it is
long enough to cut off all that horrid bleached part. It is a good
punishment for me."
"Several of the girls do it, but it does seem strange for you to do such
a thing. Aren't you most finished? I am dying to get to that piano. I
want to play for Uncle William."
"I am quite through," said Bee with a quick glance in her father's
direction, "and so is father. We will go into the parlor now."
With stately, old-fashioned courtesy Doctor Raymond rose and opened the
door for them. Engrossed in his own meditations the scientist had not
paid much attention to the chatter of the girls. Had it been otherwise
he might have absorbed a few facts concerning the species girl that
would have enlightened his understanding considerably.
"I am dreadfully out of practice," commented Adele, seating herself at
the instrument, and letting her hands flutter over the keys dreamily.
"Since papa has been so ill I have not touched the piano. What do you
like, Uncle William?"
"Anything, child," replied Doctor Raymond, seating himself in a large
arm chair and preparing to be comfortable. "I am fond of music of all
kinds. So let it be 'grave or gay, lively or severe,' it will please me.
Beatrice has not favored me with any music yet."
"I don't play," said Beatrice quietly. "You should hear Percival on the
violin, father. He is wonderful!"
"And who is Percival, Beatrice?"
"He is the son of our new neighbor, Mrs. Medulla," Bee informed him. "He
lives with his mother in the old Brawley place. He is an infant
prodigy."
"I don't care much for such precocity," observed the doctor dryly. "It
is usually exploited by long-legged chaps who seek to prolong the
illusion of the infantile period by knickerbockers and curls. I am not
speaking of your friend, Beatrice, but of the brood in general."
"But Percival _has_ curls, and he _does_ wear knickerbockers," spoke Bee
in dismay. "Though he told me, father, that he despised his clothes, and
that a real fellow did not like to wear such things. He really is a
marvel, and I am sure that Mrs. Medulla would like for us to call on
them. She has been very nice to me."
"Very well, my daughter. I suppose that we ought to be neighborly, but I
shall not have much time for visiting. Let us listen to your cousin now.
She is waiting for us."
Adele had at length settled herself to her satisfaction. She liked to
play. She was the center of all eyes at the piano, and she was
conscious that she looked her very best as, with eyes upturned, she sang
some old ballad in her sweet and plaintive little voice.
Doctor Raymond lighted a cigar. Bee brought his tobacco set and placed
it upon a small table by his chair. Then she sat down to listen. How
beautiful Adele was! Despite her good resolutions a pang went through
her heart as she noted her father's intense gaze of admiration. Adele
sang on and on. The room grew dark. Beatrice rose, attended to the
lights, trying to stifle the feeling of sadness that was stealing over
her.
"Isn't she pretty?" she asked of her father suddenly, bending over and
speaking wistfully.
"She is like an exquisite cameo," was the entomologist's enthusiastic
response. "I am glad that you admire her, Beatrice, though I do not see
how one could help it. Won't she tire herself?"
"I will see, father." Bee went to her cousin and touched her gently on
the shoulder.
"Aren't you tired, Adele?"
"I believe that I am," replied Adele, jumping up from the stool. "I saw
that Uncle William was interested and so I kept on."
This was scarcely true. She had played on because she saw that her uncle
enjoyed looking at her. In common with most beauties she was conscious
when she excited admiration.
"You sing very nicely, my dear," was the scientist's comment. For some
reason he appeared more at home with his niece than he did with his
daughter.
"Thank you, uncle," said Adele sweetly. "What are we to do tomorrow,
Bee? Let's go shopping. I want to get a new blue dress. Mamma said that
I could have one."
"I cannot go in the morning," replied Bee, whose mind was made up on
this point. With her mornings with her father she had resolved there
should be no interference. "I help father with his cataloguing then. I
will go in the afternoon, if you wish."
"Then what will become of me?" pouted Adele.
"You shall help us," said Doctor Raymond, pleasantly. "Tomorrow we take
up the life history of 'The Purple Emperor.' It is one of the most
charming of butterflies, and I am sure that you will enjoy it. Beauty
should be drawn by beautiful things," he added graciously.
"Why, of course I'll help," cried Adele, delighted by the compliment.
"There is one call, or errand of mercy rather, that I would like you
girls to make for me," remarked the scientist presently. "This morning
the minister told me that old Rachel was ailing. It would be a graceful
thing for you two to take her some delicacies of some sort. The old
appreciate such attentions. She was a faithful servant of your mother's,
Beatrice. Indeed, she attended her through her last illness."
"I know, father. Uncle Henry said that you wished her looked after, and
that she should not want for anything. He had me to go down to the cabin
every month to see what she needed. I have not been since your return
though. I thought perhaps you would prefer to attend to her yourself."
"I have been once, my daughter, but I can not go tomorrow. If you
girls--"
"Certainly we'll go," cried Adele before Bee could reply. "Let's wear
our gray dresses, Bee, and pretend that we are Sisters of Charity."
"You may wear a gray dress if you wish," remarked Bee. "I shall dress as
I always do. Father, don't you think that we ought to attend to that
before we go shopping?"
"Yes. Deeds of kindness should take precedence over all else. Now,
girls, I am going into the study to read for a time. I know that you two
must have a great deal to say to each other. Beatrice has had to be
content with just me a long time.
"Good-night, Uncle William!" Adele ran to him and put up her lips for a
kiss. "You are just horrid to run off to those old bugs and things. If
you run away too often, I'll throw them into the river."
Bee looked up horrified at her cousin's pertness.
"Good-night, you butterfly," responded Doctor Raymond, kissing his
niece, and seeming not at all dismayed by her threat. "Don't let me
catch you tampering with my bugs, as you call them. Good-night,
daughter!"
"Good-night, father," replied the girl without glancing at him. He had
laughed just as if he had enjoyed Adele's nonsense. He had not kissed
her since the first night of his homecoming, and her heart throbbed at
the thought of how easily Adele could get what she would have given
anything for.
Her father hesitated a moment, then, catching sight of her expression,
he crossed the room to her side, and putting his hand under her chin,
raised her face gently and looked into her eyes.
"Aren't you going to kiss me too?" he asked.
Bee's eyes filled, and she was unable to speak, as was always the case
when she was deeply moved. He waited, wondering at her silence, when all
at once he spoke with a quick intake of his breath:
"There is a look of your mother about you tonight, Beatrice. I never
noticed it before. Child, child,--"
He withdrew his hand from her chin, turned, and quitted the room
abruptly.
"What made him do that?" cried Adele. "Doesn't he like you yet, Bee?"
But Bee's eyes were shining through her tears.
"He said that I looked like my mother," she breathed. "Oh, Adele! Did
you hear him?"
"Well, what of it? I don't see anything so wonderful in that. Everyone
says that I am the perfect image of mamma. It would be natural for you
to look like your mother."
"But he loved her dearly, dearly," said Bee. "If he thinks that I am
like her he will love me too. He just _must_ like me," she broke forth.
"Why, Adele, I think I should die if he didn't."
"Oh, no; you wouldn't, Bee. I don't think you know how to manage him.
Now I can make him do anything I wish. I could show you a few little
tricks--"
"Thank you," answered Bee with dignity. "I don't want any more of your
tricks, Adele. One of them has caused quite enough mischief."
"But you have forgiven me that, Bee; haven't you? I saw that you had
just as soon as you kissed me."
"Adele," spoke Bee earnestly, "I am trying to do it. It brought father
back to me sooner than he would have come. For that reason I am going to
be toward you as I used to be, but I don't want to talk about it too
much. And I don't want any more of your tricks. That is, if you care to
have me like you."
"Beatrice Raymond, what has come to you?" asked Adele, her eyes opening
wide at her cousin's seriousness. "I never saw such a difference in any
one as there is in you since your father's return. Of course you are
going to be toward me just as you used to be. You always were fond of
me, and you are going to love me just as much as ever. What in the world
are you doing?"
Beatrice made no reply. They were in her room by this time, and Adele
was taking down her hair to brush it. Bee was leaning far out of a
window, looking toward the garden where the dim outline of the moss rose
bush, the rose her mother had planted, could be seen. There were no
roses now, but the bush stood shapely and symmetrical in the moonlight.
"He said that I looked like her," she mused thoughtfully, her heart
going out with yearning toward that mother who was scarcely more than a
memory to her. "And he loved her dearly, dearly!"