IN THE BARNWELLS' CARRYALL
Aunt Angie La Grange descended from the Barnwells' carryall in front of
the station platform at Enterprise, and tapped on the window of the
telegraph-agent's box.
"How late is the train from Savannah, Barney, son?"
Mr. Mazyck sauntered out.
"Only about three hours to-day, Aunt Angie. Expecting the folks?"
"Only Peachie. Mrs. Winchester and Carolina went on down to
Jacksonville on business. Did you ever see such a girl?"
"I never did. She scares me 'most to death. I'd like to marry her,
Aunt Angie, but what could I--what could any man do with such a wife?"
"She'd make any man rich. Moultrie says she goes so far ahead of him in
her ideas of business, he can't even keep her in sight."
"Oh, any man has got to make up his mind to take her dust!" laughed
Barnwell.
"Are you in earnest about marrying her, Barney?"
"Of cou'se I am! Aren't all the boys? Isn't Moultrie?"
A shade darkened Aunt Angie's face.
"You know, son, that Moultrie will never marry unless--"
"Exactly! Unless! Well, there's a heap of unlesses which may he'p him
to change his mind. And maybe Miss Carolina is one of them."
"I'd be proud to have him win her, but, as you say, all the boys are in
love with her, here and in Charleston, and now she has been to Savannah,
I suppose they will follow suit, and--"
"Poor Jacksonville!" sighed Barnwell.
Mrs. La Grange laughed.
"We haven't had such a belle in South Carolina in many years," she said.
"Before the war--" and she sighed.
Barney laughed unfeelingly, and Mrs. La Grange continued:
"How about Araby, son? Are you going to sell her to Carolina?"
"Indeed I am not, Aunt Angie. I'd give her to Miss Carolina before I'd
sell her to anybody else; but, to tell you the truth, I'd about die if I
had to part with that mare! She's human. Sound as a dollar and not a
trick of any kind. That nigger horse-trainer is a magician with
animals. I'm blest if I don't believe he'll teach Araby to talk before
he quits. And she whinnies if she even passes him in a crowd."
"Carolina wants her worse than anything in the world."
"Well, she can just go awn wantin'," said the usually gallant Mr.
Mazyck, ungallantly. "If I'd give Araby to her, I'd lose both my mare
and my sweetheart."
"Somehow or other I can't help thinking that Carolina will get that
horse in spite of you. Barney, do go and see what time it is! This is
the third time I've been down here to wait for this mean train!"
"Yonder she comes now. Only three hours and fifteen minutes late.
That's not so bad, Aunt Angie. When she tries, she can tardy herself up
a heap mo' than that!"
Mrs. La Grange anxiously scanned the shabby coaches for a sight of her
daughter's blooming face. Peachie jumped from the car steps and ran to
her mother's arms. They kissed each other like two lovers who had been
parted for years.
"Have you had a pleasant week, darling baby?" asked her mother.
Peachie's pink cheeks paled and her face clouded over.
"No, I haven't," she whispered, hurriedly, "but I don't want anybody but
you to know. Don't let Barney ask me. Let's hurry."
Mrs. La Grange led the way to the borrowed carriage with a sinking
heart. Aside from two visits to her aunt in Charleston, this was the
only time Peachie had ever been away from home. And now to have this
invitation to visit Savannah, given the year before and anticipated all
this time, turn into the failure which Peachie's face indicated, was
almost as great a disappointment to Mrs. La Grange as to the girl
herself.
In the carriage, where Old Moses could not hear them, the mother
anxiously awaited the story.
"Begin at the beginning and don't skip a word. We've two good hours
before us with nobody to interrupt."
"Well, you know how happy Carolina was at the prospect of taking me to a
fine hotel like the De Soto, and how lovely my clothes were, and how
pleased Cousin Lois was at the prospect of seeing her old friends there?
Well, people called, of course,--none of the girls, though,--and Mrs.
General Giddings, who is the leader of Savannah society, at once asked
Cousin Lois to be a chaperon at the Valentine Ball. John Hobson invited
me, and Jim Little asked Carolina, and, do you know, it was the first
time in all her life that Carolina had ever been to a ball with a man!
She says she always went with a chaperon and met her partners at the
dance. And she wanted to do that in Savannah, but Mrs. Giddings assured
her that it was all right, and so she did.
"Oh, mother, I wish you could have seen us that night! You know how I
looked, but Cousin Lois wore a black satin brocade, studded with real
turquoises and blue ostrich feathers woven into the goods. And, with
all her size, she looked perfectly lovely. Carolina wore a white Paris
muslin over white silk, with every flounce trimmed with real lace. Her
hair looked as if she only had one pin in it, it was so loose and fluffy
and--well, artistic is the only word to describe her. She looked like a
fairy princess. It began in the dressing-room."
"What began?
"Well--Savannah began!" cried Peachie. "I never heard of such things
happening to our girls when they go to Atlanta and Columbus and Augusta
and Macon, while as for Charleston!--well, I needn't defend Charleston
manners to _you_, mother!
"Not a soul spoke to us, although everybody knew we were strangers and
everybody knew who we were, for of course it was in the papers,--such
distinguished arrivals as Mrs. Rhett Winchester and Carolina Lee! But
not a girl came near. They hollered and joked among themselves, and
somebody would whisper to two or three, then the whole roomful would
scream like wild Indians, and once one of the boys came to the door and
called to them to hurry up, and one girl screamed back, 'Shut yo' big
mouth!' and the rest fairly yelled with approval.
"Then one girl was just going out with her bodice all gaping open, and
Carolina stepped up to her as sweetly as if she had been received with
perfect politeness and asked if she mightn't fasten it. The hooks were
half off, so Carolina took a paper of pins and fairly pinned that girl
into her clothes,--her waist and skirt didn't meet. She accepted all
this help, thanked her, and went out, leaving us all alone. Then our
boys came and took us down to the ballroom, and, if you will believe it,
mother, not a girl came near us or asked to be introduced or introduced
a single boy! Not even the girl that Carolina had helped. I looked at
Carolina to see if she noticed it, but her face was as calm as it always
is. Her colour, however, was a little less than usual at first.
"We noticed that things sort of dragged at first, and soon we found out
what it was. An English yacht was in the river, and its owner, Sir
Hubert Wemyss, a young man only about thirty, was expected, and all the
girls were trying to save dances for him, and all the boys were trying
to get the choice ones.
"The first dance I didn't watch Carolina, because I had heard that Jim
Little was a good dancer, but, after it was over, I saw him take her to
the door and she went up to the dressing-room. I made John stop near
him, and I asked him what was the matter. 'Oh, I stuck my foot through
the lace of her dress, and she's gone to be sewed up. Say, Miss
Peachie, that girl can't dance! I never saw a Yankee that could!'
"Well, mother, I could scarcely believe my ears! The conceit of that raw
Southern boy, who never had been outside of his own little town in the
whole of his life, except to go duck-shooting in the swamps, to presume
to criticize Carolina's dancing!"
"What did you say to him, sweetheart?"
Aunt Angie's cheeks were as red as any girl's. She sat bolt upright in
the borrowed carriage, in her cheap print dress and cotton gloves,
looking like an empress. The proudest blood in South Carolina flowed in
her veins and she had the spirit of her State.
"I said, 'Are you sure, Mr. Little, that the fault was all hers?' And
he laughed and said, 'Well, the Savannah girls never find fault with my
dancing, Miss Peachie!' 'Oh,' I said, 'if such criterions have stamped
their approval on you, Mr. Little, of course there is no more to be
said!' He didn't see the sarcasm at all,--he seems a trifle dense. So
we waited for Carolina, and when she came back, I saw that her dress was
ruined, but she had managed to hide it pretty well, and her manner was
just as sweet to that man as if he had been fanning her, and we all four
went back to Cousin Lois.
"The next dance we changed partners, Jim Little taking me and John
Hobson taking Carolina. Now John is said to be the best dancer in
Savannah, so I kept an eye on them, but they didn't do very well.
Carolina's colour began to rise and her eyes began to grow that purplish
black--you remember? Oh, she looked so beautiful! But she wasn't
enjoying herself, and she stopped near me to rest. Then I heard John
say, 'You dance more like a Southern girl than any Yankee I ever knew!'
Think, mother! That was twice she had been called a Yankee before we
had been there an hour. A Lee of South Carolina! Her cheeks just grew
a little warmer and she lifted her chin a little higher, but didn't
correct him--just said, 'I suppose you intend that for a compliment, Mr.
Hobson?' 'I should say I did!' he said. 'I never saw a Yankee girl who
could dance in all my born days!' 'How do you account for that?' asked
Carolina, in just as sweet a tone, mother, as she always uses. Me? I
was just boiling! I was ready to cry!"
Her mother pressed her hand. Aunt Angle's own lips were trembling with
indignation.
"'Oh,' the fool said, 'I reckon they don't get as many chances to dance
as our girls do!' Well, that saved me. I began to laugh and I laughed
until I nearly went into hysterics. I had to excuse myself and ask Jim
to get me some water!"
"Did Carolina laugh, too?" asked Mrs. La Grange.
"Well, she smiled, and I knew from that, that she was only holding
herself in.
"The next was a Lancers. Carolina danced with Rube Bryan. He is very
tall and from the first he tried to get fresh with Carolina. I was in
the same set dancing with John again. And I want to say right here that
I never saw such unladylike and ungentlemanly dancing in all my life.
Why, in Charleston the chaperons would have requested the whole dance to
be stopped. They wouldn't have permitted such hootings and yellings,
such jumps and shouts. Girls yelled at each other across the whole
hall--just like negroes. 'Go it, Virgie!' 'Shake a foot, Nell!' In
the ladies' chain the boys jerked the girls so that one girl in our set
was thrown down and her wrist sprained."
"I was getting frightened and I could see that Carolina was on the verge
of leaving the set. Then she seemed to brace herself, for Mrs.
Winchester had left the line of chaperons and was making her way down to
where we were dancing. And mother, there was rage in her whole bearing.
She just looked as if Carolina were being insulted by dancing with such
rowdies. But Carolina gave her a look and she did not interfere. She
stood there, however."
"Did anything happen, Peachie?" asked Mrs. La Grange, unable to wait for
the sequel.
"Yes, mother, it did. I believe those girls had dared him to, because
he waited until the very last, then he lifted Carolina off her feet
clear up into the air, and landed her in front of Mrs. Winchester with a
deep bow. Everybody laughed and screamed for a minute, then something
in the attitude of both Mrs. Winchester and Carolina made them hush.
Cousin Lois's voice was low, but you could hear it all over the room.
"'Young man,' she said, 'your name is unknown to me, but let me say to
you that you are not a gentleman!'
"What happened then?" cried Mrs. La Grange.
"Mrs. Giddings, of course. She always says the cutting thing. 'You are
perfectly right, Lois,' she said, 'the man is a nobody. We expect such
manners from nobodies. Not that the somebodies are any better, if this
dance is a sample. This is my first appearance. Rest assured that it
will be my last. We Giddings don't chaperon barn dances!'
"That, from Mrs. Giddings, seemed to sober them. They all moved away
leaving Rube Bryan bowing and scraping and trying to square himself.
Cousin Lois simply waved him aside as if he were a piccaninny. She
asked Carolina if she wanted to go home. Carolina hesitated a minute,
then she lifted that chin of hers and said, 'No; a Lee cannot be driven
from a ballroom by rudeness. Just let me go and put on my truth!"
"Bless the child!" cried Mrs. La Grange, who was as excited as a
spectator at his first horse-race. "Bless her! There is pride! There
is what the French call 'race'! And to see the dear _putting on the
armour of her religion even in a ballroom_!"
"Mother, Carolina's religion helps her in everything. Why, she just
stepped out of sight behind a row of palms. She went to a window and
reached up one arm and leaned her head against it. With the other hand
she drew back the curtain and looked up at the stars. I put my arm
around her and she said, in a low, distinct voice. 'The eternal God is
thy refuge and underneath are the everlasting arms.' 'And mother, it
made the tears come to my eyes. To think of my beautiful Carolina, with
nothing but love in her heart for the whole South, to come home to us
and be treated so rudely that she had to appeal to God to help her to
get through something which ought to have been only a pleasure to her!"
"I know, my dear baby," said her mother, whose own eyes were
suspiciously bright, "but I rather imagine that to a girl who has seen
the best society that Europe and America have to offer, a dance with a
lot of Savannah boys and girls could not be considered in the light of
much of a treat."
"I know it, mother. Yet Cousin Carol's manners are so perfect that she
never lets you suspect that. She enters into everything with such
love."
"That is her religion," said Mrs. La Grange.
"Oh, that reminds me. She went on talking aloud as we stood there. She
said, 'I must remember that the vesture of truth is my raiment. I must
stand sentinel at the door of my thought and not allow error to enter
it. And the way to keep error out, is to pour love in. Love! Love!
Love! That is the way to meet them. Father--mother--God! Help me to
love mine enemies!' Oh, and mother dearest, by that time I was weeping,
but Carol's eyes were quite dry. 'Don't cry, little girl,' she said, 'I
don't any more, for I have got beyond the belief that religion is an
emotion. It is too real--too lasting. Emotions die out.' And a little
light seemed to dawn for me--just as I have seen clouds break on a dark
night and a single star shine through."
"Then did you go back?" asked her mother, after a pressure of the hand
to show that she understood. There was a singular bond between these
two.
"Yes, she turned and pressed my hand just as you did then, with such
understanding, and her face was fairly shining, but with such a
different radiance. 'Come, Peachie, darling! faithful little comrade.
You would not have been one of the disciples who slept and left their
Master to pray alone, would you? Well, I have conquered my little
moment of error. Now let's go back.' 'And show them how South Carolina
faces her foes,' I said. 'Wouldn't it be better to go back and show
them how South Carolina can forgive?' she asked."
"Bless her heart!" murmured Mrs. La Grange. "I know how a young girl
feels to be mistreated at a ball."
"Yes, but wait. The grandest, glorious-est thing happened. Just as we
came from behind the palms who should be bowing to the chaperons but the
handsomest man I ever saw in my life. Tall, dark, distinguished-looking,
with one white lock of hair and all the rest black as a coal. He has a
slight limp from a wound at Magersfontein, but it only distinguished him
the more and doesn't interfere with his dancing a bit. Well, when he
saw Carolina, his face lighted up and he said, 'Oh, Miss Lee, how
awfully jolly to see you again! To tell the truth, I had half a mind
not to come, after all I had promised, and I wanted to get out of it the
worst way until I heard that you were to be here. Then I couldn't get
here fast enough.' Well, mother, even if every girl there hadn't
suddenly found that side of the room strangely attractive, his voice has
a carrying tone, and--well, I wish you could have seen those girls.
They looked as though they had been slapped in the face."
"As they deserved!" said Mrs. La Grange, grimly.
"Then the band struck up a two-step and he turned to Mrs. Winchester and
asked her if she would save her first square dance for him, but she said
she wasn't dancing. So then he asked Carolina. She gave me a little
look which meant that I could have him next, and then! Well, I've seen
dancing all my life, but I never saw anybody dance as those two did. It
was like the flight of swallows. So graceful, so dignified, so
distinguished, and yet so spirited. Carolina dances like a breeze."
"I can imagine just how she dances," cried Mrs. La Grange, excitedly.
"Go on, child!"
"Well, the funniest sight of all was Cousin Lois. She drew her chin in
and waved her fan and puffed herself out for all the world like our
turkey-hen. I could have laughed."
"I know just how she felt--just how I should have felt in her place if
you had been treated as Carolina was. Then did he dance with you?"
"Yes, then he danced with me. Then with Carolina again. Then she said
to him, 'Now, Sir Hubert, I want you to meet some of these pretty girls,
but as I don't know them myself, I shall ask Mr. Little to take you
around and introduce you to the brightest of them, so that you will take
away with you the best impression of our Southern girls.'"
"Oh, Peachie! I couldn't have done that!"
"Nor I either, mother. I just couldn't. So Jim started to take him,
but he said, 'Just wait a moment.' Then he came to me and took--"
"I hope he took more than one!" cried Mrs. La Grange, jealously.
"He took seven, mother. And in the German he favoured me until--"
"That was too many, Peachie. You ought not--"
"I know, dearest honey mother. I ought not to do heaps of things I do
do, but after all, what do I care what those people think of me? All
they can say is that I flirted with him--"
"Or that he flirted with you," laughed her mother.
"Oh, yes, they will say that, never fear. And yet--"
"And yet what, my darling? Here we are at home."
"And yet he took Cousin Lois and Carolina to Jacksonville on his yacht,
and he asked me to go, but I said I had to get back to you, and he was
with us all the rest of the time we were there--"
Her mother turned and looked at her.
"And he is coming to see me on his way back."
As Mrs. La Grange stepped from the carriage with the air of a queen
descending from her chariot, she put her arm around her daughter's waist
and said:
"I think I have to be proud of a dear, generous little girl whose
loyalty caused an otherwise pleasant week to be spoiled."
Peachie's cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkled.
"It wasn't quite spoiled, mother dear. Oh, honey, he is the handsomest
man and the best dancer! Just wait till you see him!"