WOOING THE WIDOW.
Mrs. Sheldon was sitting in her morning-room when a servant appeared
and announced that Major Ashton was in the parlor.
"Major Ashton!" repeated the widow. "Did you tell him Miss Grace was
out?"
"Yes'm; but he said it was of no consequence; he wanted to see you."
"I suppose he wants to inquire about his chances with Grace," thought
Mrs. Sheldon. "I am sorry I can't give him any encouragement. I never
knew Grace more prejudiced against a man than she is against the major.
Tell him I will come down at once." This last to the servant.
Major Ashton, as already foreshadowed, had changed his plan of
campaign--or, rather, he had changed the object of his campaign.
Knowing that he could not secure the niece, he had come to lay siege to
the aunt. He felt fortunate in having hit a time when Miss Dearborn was
out.
It was rather a delicate matter to make such a sudden change, and
required a good deal of tact; but Major Ashton had considerable
confidence in his ability to make the transfer without exciting
suspicion. He looked about the room in which he was seated, and
surveyed with satisfaction the signs everywhere of opulence in the
owner.
"What matter if the widow is fifteen years my senior?" he said to
himself. "I am not going to marry her out of sentiment, but for solid
pecuniary reasons. The older she is, the more chance there is of her
leaving me my freedom with her fortune before I am an old man."
His reflections were interrupted by the entrance of Mrs. Sheldon, who
advanced to meet him with a gracious smile.
"I am glad to see you, major," she said.
"Thank you, Mrs. Sheldon," he replied, in a tone and with an
_empressement_ new to him and to her.
"Poor fellow! he is in trouble," she thought, not suspecting his change
of front. "He wants my assistance."
"Grace is not at home," she said, supposing this information would
interest him.
"Indeed!" he returned, with languid indifference. "Out shopping, I
suppose?"
"Really, major, you don't show much interest in the subject. But then
that's the way with you men. You are all of you fickle and faithless."
"No, Mrs. Sheldon; you do me injustice--I am the soul of fidelity. But
you know as well as I do that Miss Dearborn will have nothing to say to
me."
"'Faint heart ne'er won fair lady,' major."
"I will answer in the old couplet:
"'If she be not fair to me,
What care I how fair she be?'"
"Does that mean that you have quite abandoned the field?" asked Mrs.
Sheldon, in some surprise.
"So far as Miss Dearborn is concerned--yes."
"And you don't consider yourself fickle?"
"No. The fact is, my dear Mrs. Sheldon, I can't go on loving one who
doesn't care a rap for me. I could have loved your niece to the end of
my life if she had reciprocated my affection; but as she does not, I
shall quietly resign her."
"You are sure you won't break your heart, major?" said the widow,
laughing.
"Do I look like it?"
"Well, no; I can't say you do."
"I have not even sworn never to marry," continued Major Ashton.
"Perhaps you have already made a second choice?"
"I have."
"And you have come to tell me of it? How delightful!"
"I wish I could be sure you would say that after hearing the name of
that choice."
"Perhaps I may. Who is it?"
"Now for it!" thought the major. "Now to test the value of soft sawder!"
He drew his chair nearer that of Mrs. Sheldon, and began to speak.
"In paying my attention to Miss Dearborn," he said, "I had an
opportunity of becoming acquainted with the attractive qualities of
another. I was not conscious of the interest which that other excited
in me till my heart, thrown back upon itself in its loneliness, sought
another object for its affection. Do you understand?"
"I don't think I do," murmured Mrs. Sheldon. "Please be more explicit."
"I will. Mrs. Sheldon, I am a man of few words, and you may think me
abrupt. Will you deign to accept that which your niece has rejected?
Will you be my wife?"
Mrs. Sheldon had not dreamed of marrying again, but she was a woman,
and accessible to flattery. She admired the major; she knew that he was
considered a catch, and though she did not love him, she reflected with
exultation that it would be a great triumph for her to carry off the
prize for which so many had sought.
"You surprise me very much, Major Ashton," she said. "I did not dream
of this."
"But it is not disagreeable to you, let me hope?"
"I am of course flattered by your preference, but I am as old as the
hills. Are you aware, Major Ashton, that I shall soon be forty-one?"
"She's fifty-one if she's a day!" thought the enamored lover; and he
was right.
"You are at the meridian of your beauty, dear Mrs. Sheldon," he said,
taking her unresisting hand.
"I am older than you."
"Not much. I am thirty-eight."
He was really thirty-five.
"There are but three years between us," he resumed. "Shall three years
separate us?"
"You do not look thirty-eight."
"Nor you forty-one," returned Major Ashton.
"Heaven forgive me for the lie!" he said, _sotto voce_.
"What would Grace--what would the world say?" asked the widow, coyly.
"Why need we care what either will say? Possibly Miss Dearborn may
regret her decision, but it will be too late. I would not resign you
now for her."
"Are you sincere in this, major?" asked Mrs. Sheldon, with gratified
vanity.
"Shall I swear it, my dear one?"
"No; I will believe you, though it seems strange to me that you should
prefer me to one so young and fair."
"At my age, dear Mrs. Sheldon, a man wants a home presided over by
a fond and faithful wife, who will not have her head turned by the
frivolities of fashion, but will live for her husband. I do not think I
am mistaken in thinking that you will make me such a wife."
"I hope I may, dear major."
"Then you grant my suit?"
"Can you not give me a week?" asked the widow, thinking it best not to
grasp at the offer too eagerly.
"I could, but I would rather not. Can you not end my suspense to-day?
We have no one to consult. We can decide for ourselves. Why need we
delay?"
"Well, major, if you insist upon it, I must say yes," said the widow,
"though I fear we are both acting foolishly."
"I am not, at any rate," said the major; and he was doubtless right,
for the object of his devotion was worth at least a quarter of a
million, while he was harassed by creditors whom he could not satisfy.
Of what followed it is needless to speak. Half an hour later Major
Ashton left the house, successful and complacent. Henceforth he
would find his path clear. He had only to whisper the secret of his
engagement to appease even his most troublesome creditors. The husband
of the wealthy Mrs. Sheldon would be quite a different person from the
impecunious Major Ashton.
When Grace Dearborn returned, she found a new look on her aunt's
face--a look of mingled complacence and confusion--for which she could
not account.
"Has anything happened, Aunt Caroline?" she asked.
"Not that I am aware of. Major Ashton has been here."
"Then I am glad I was absent," said Grace, hastily.
"He would not have troubled you," said Mrs. Sheldon. "He is not very
likely to renew his suit."
"I am glad to hear that," said Grace, somewhat surprised, nevertheless.
"Indeed he is engaged to be married to--another."
"That's news, indeed. Who is it, Aunt Caroline?" asked Grace, with
genuine curiosity.
"I hardly know how to tell you," said the widow, in a tone which gave
Grace an inkling of the truth, amazing as it was.
"Perhaps he is going to marry you," she said.
"You have guessed it, Grace," said the widow, in graceful confusion.
There was a dead silence.
"Don't you congratulate me?" she asked, somewhat irritably.
"My dear aunt, I hope you will be happy; but it seems so--strange,"
Grace replied.
"I don't know why it should be so strange."
"At any rate, Aunt Caroline, I hope it may be for your happiness;" and
Grace, kissing her aunt hurriedly, left the room.
"Grace is jealous," thought Mrs. Sheldon, smiling a little to herself.
"She begins to value him now that she has lost him."
It is hardly necessary to say that she was entirely mistaken. It was
evident to Grace why the major had sought her aunt in marriage, and she
felt that his motives were wholly mercenary.