When to mischief mortals bend their will,
How soon they find fit instruments of ill.
--POPE'S "RAPE OF THE LOCK."
"What, Art, are you going out?"
"Yes."
"Do you know it's after ten?"
"Yes, you just mind your own business, Wal; learn your lessons, and
go off to bed like a good boy when you get through. I'm old enough to
take care of myself."
"Dear me! I'm awfully afraid he's gone back to his evil courses, as
father says," muttered Walter Dinsmore to himself, as the door closed
upon his reckless elder brother. "I wonder what I ought to do about
it," he continued, leaning his head upon his hand, with a worried,
irresolute look; "ought I to report to the governor? No, I shan't,
there then; I don't know anything, and I never will be a sneak or a
tell-tale." And he drew the light nearer, returned to his book with
redoubled diligence for some ten or fifteen minutes more; then,
pushing it hastily aside, with a sigh of relief, started up, threw off
his clothes, blew out the light, and tumbled into bed.
Meanwhile Arthur had stolen noiselessly from the college, and pursued
his way into the heart of the town. On turning a corner he came
suddenly upon another young man who seemed to have been waiting for
him; simply remarking, "You're late to-night, Dinsmore," he faced
about in the same direction, and the two walked on together.
"Of course; but how can a fellow help it when he's obliged to watch
his opportunity till the Argus eyes are closed in sleep, or supposed
to be so?" grumbled Arthur.
"True enough, old boy; but cheer up, your day of emancipation must
come some time or other," remarked his companion, clapping him
familiarly; on the shoulder. "Of age soon, aren't you?"
"In about a year. But what good does that do me? I'm not so fortunate
as my older brother--shall have nothing of my own till one or other of
my respected parents sees fit to kick the bucket, and leave me a pile;
a thing which at present neither of them seems to have any notion of
doing."
"You forget your chances at the faro-table."
"My chances! You win everything from me, Jackson. I'm a lame duck
now, and if my luck doesn't soon begin to turn, I'll--do something
desperate, I believe."
The lad's tone was bitter, his look reckless and half despairing.
"Pooh, don't be a spooney! We all have our ups and downs, and you must
take your turn at both, like the rest."
They had ascended a flight of steps, and Jackson rang the bell as he
spoke. It was answered instantly by a colored waiter, who with, a
silent bow stepped back and held the door open for their entrance.
They passed in and presently found themselves in a large,
well-lighted, and handsomely-furnished room, where tables were set out
with the choicest viands, rich wine, and trays of fine cigars.
They seated themselves, ate and drank their fill, then, each lighting
a cigar, proceeded to a saloon, on the story above, where a number of
men were engaged in playing cards--gambling, as was evident from the
piles of gold, silver, and bank-notes lying here and there upon the
tables about which they sat.
Here also costly furniture, bright light, and rich wines lent their
attractions to the scene.
Arthur took possession of a velvet-cushioned chair on one side of an
elegant marble-topped table, his companion placing himself in another
directly opposite. Here, seated in the full blaze of the gas-light,
each face was brought out into strong relief. Both were young, both
handsome; Jackson, who was Arthur's senior by five or six years,
remarkably so; yet his smile was sardonic, and there was often a
sinister expression in his keen black eye as its glance fell upon his
victim, for such Arthur Dinsmore was--no match for his cunning and
unscrupulous antagonist, who was a gambler by profession.
Arthur's pretended reformation had lasted scarcely longer than until
he was again exposed to temptation, and his face, as seen in that
brilliant light, wore unmistakable signs of indulgence in debauchery
and vice. He played in a wild, reckless way, dealing out his cards
with a trembling hand, while his cheek burned and his eye flashed.
At first Jackson allowed him to win, and filled with a mad delight at
the idea that "his luck had turned," the boy doubled and trebled his
stakes.
Jackson chuckled inwardly, the game went on, and at length Arthur
found all his gains suddenly swept away and himself many thousands of
dollars in debt.
A ghastly pallor overspread his face, he threw himself back in his
chair with a groan, then starting up with a bitter laugh, "Well, I see
only one way out of this," he said. "A word in your ear, Tom; come
along with me. I've lost and you won enough for one night; haven't we,
eh?"
"Well, yes; I'm satisfied if you are." And the two hurried into the
now dark and silent street, for it was long past midnight, and sober
and respectable people generally had retired to their beds.
"Where are you going?" asked Jackson.
"Anywhere you like that we can talk without danger of being
overheard."
"This way then, down this street. You see 'tis absolutely silent and
deserted."
They walked on, talking in an undertone.
"You'd like your money as soon as you can get it?" said Arthur.
"Of course; in fact I must have it before very long, for I'm hard
pushed now."
"Suppose I could put you in the way of marrying a fortune, would you
hold me quit of all your claims against me?"
"H'm, that would depend upon the success of the scheme."
"And that upon your own coolness and skill. I think I've heard you
spoken of as a woman-killer?"
"Ha, ha! Yes, I flatter myself that I have won some reputation in that
line, and that not a few of the dear creatures have been very fond of
me. It's really most too bad to break their soft little hearts; but
then a man can't marry 'em all; unless he turns Mormon."
Arthur's lips curled with scorn and contempt, and he half turned away
in disgust and aversion; but remembering that he was in the power
of this man, whom, too late, alas! he was discovering to be an
unscrupulous villain, he checked himself, and answered in his usual
tone, "No, certainly not; and so you have never yet run your neck into
the matrimonial noose?"
"No, not I, and don't fancy doing so either, yet I own that a fortune
would be a strong temptation. But, I say, lad, if it's a great chance,
why do you hand it over to me? Why not try for it yourself? It's not
your sister, surely?"
"No, indeed; you're not precisely the sort of brother-in-law I should
choose," returned the boy, with a bitter, mocking laugh. "But stay,
don't be insulted"--for his companion had drawn himself up with an air
of offended pride--"the lady in question is but a step farther from
me; she is my brother's daughter."
"Eh! you don't say? A mere child, then, I presume."
"Eighteen, handsome as a picture, as the saying is, and only too
sweet-tempered for my taste."
"And rich you say? that is her father's wealthy, eh?"
"Yes, he's one of the richest men in our county, but she has a fortune
in her own right, over a million at the very lowest computation."
"Whew! You expect me to swallow that?"
"It's true, true as preaching. You wonder that I should be so willing
to help you to get her. Well, I owe her a grudge, I see no other way
to get out of your clutches, and I shall put you in the way of making
her acquaintance only on condition that if you succeed we share the
spoils."
"Agreed. Now for the modus operandi. You tell me her whereabouts and
provide me with a letter of introduction, eh?"
"No; on the contrary, you are carefully to conceal the fact that you
have the slightest knowledge of me. The introduction must come from
quite another quarter. Listen, and I'll communicate the facts and
unfold my plan. It has been running in my head for weeks, ever since I
heard that the girl was to spend the summer in the North with nobody
but an old maiden aunt, half-cracked at that, to keep guard over her;
but I couldn't quite make up my mind to it till to-night, for you must
see, Tom," he added with a forced laugh, "that it can't be exactly
delightful to my family pride to think of bringing such a dissipated
fellow as you into the connection."
"Better look at home, lad. But you are right; one such scamp is, or
ought to be, all-sufficient for one family."
Arthur said, "Certainly," but winced at the insinuation nevertheless.
It was not a pleasant reflection that his vices had brought him down
to a level with this man who lived by his wits--or perhaps more
correctly speaking, his rascalities--of whose antecedents he knew
nothing and whom, with his haughty Southern pride, he thoroughly
despised.
But scorn and loathe him as he might in his secret soul, it was
necessary that he should be conciliated, because it was now in his
power to bring open disgrace and ruin upon his victim. So Arthur went
on to explain matters and, with Jackson's assistance, to concoct a
plan of getting Elsie and her fortune into their hands.
As he had said, the idea had been in his mind for weeks, yet it was
not until that day that he could see clearly how to carry it out.
Also, his family pride had stood in the way until the excitement of
semi-intoxication and his heavy losses had enabled him to put it aside
for the time. To-morrow he would more than half regret the step he was
taking, but now he plunged recklessly into the thing with small regard
for consequences to himself or others.
"Can you imitate the chirography of others?" he asked.
"Perfectly, if I do say it that shouldn't."
"Then we can manage it. My brother Walter has kept up a correspondence
with this niece ever since he left home. In a letter received
yesterday she mentions that her father was about leaving her for
the rest of the summer. Also that Miss Stanhope, the old aunt she's
staying with, was formerly very intimate with Mrs. Waters of this
city.
"It just flashed on me at once that a letter of introduction from her
would be the very thing to put you at once on a footing of intimacy
in Miss Stanhope's house; and that if you were good at imitating
handwriting we might manage it by means of a note of invitation which
I received from Mrs. Waters some time ago, and which, as good luck
would have it, I threw into my table drawer instead of destroying."
"But who knows that it was written by the lady herself?"
"I do, for I heard Bob Waters say so."
"Good! have you the note about you?"
"Yes, here it is." And Arthur drew it from his pocket. "Let's cross
over to that lamp-post."
They did so, and Jackson held the note up to the light for a moment,
scanning it attentively. "Ah, ha! the very thing! no trouble at all
about that," he said, pocketing it with a chuckle of delight, "But,"
and a slight frown contracted his brows, "what if the old lady should
take it into her head to open a correspondence on the subject with her
old friend?"
"I've thought of that too, but fortunately for our scheme Mrs. Waters
sails for Europe to-morrow; and by the way that should be mentioned in
the letter of introduction."
"Yes, so it should. Come to my room at the Merchants' House to-morrow
night, and you shall find it ready for your inspection. I suppose the
sooner the ball's set in motion the better?" he added as they moved
slowly on down the street.
"Yes, for there's no knowing how long it may take you to storm the
citadel of her ladyship's heart, or how soon her father may come to
the conclusion that he can't do without her, and go and carry her off
home. And I tell you, Tom, you'd stand no chance with him, or with her
if he were there. He'd see through you in five minutes."
"H'm! What sort is she?"
"The very pious!" sneered Arthur, "and you're bound to take your cue
from that or you'll make no headway with her at all."
"A hard rôle for me, Dinsmore. I know nothing of cant."
"You'll have to learn it then; let her once suspect your true
character--a drinking, gambling, fortune-hunting roué--and she'll turn
from you with the same fear and loathing that she would feel for a
venomous reptile."
"Ha, ha! you're in a complimentary mood to-night, Dinsmore. Well,
well, such a fortune as you speak of is worth some sacrifice and
effort, and I think I may venture the character of a perfectly moral
and upright man with a high respect for religion. The rest I can learn
by degrees from her; and come to think of it, it mightn't be a bad
idea to let her imagine she'd converted me."
"Capital! The very thing, Tom! But good-night. I must be off now to
the college. I'll come to your room to-morrow night and we'll finish
the arrangement of all preliminaries."
More than a fortnight had passed since the arrival of Miss Stanhope's
guests. It had been a season of relaxation and keen enjoyment to
them, to her, and to Dr. King's family, who had joined them in many a
pleasant little excursion to points of interest in the vicinity, and
several sociable family picnics among the surrounding hills and woods.
A warm friendship had already sprung up between the three young girls,
and had done much toward reconciling Elsie to the idea of spending the
summer there away from her father.
She had finally consented to do so, yet as the time drew near her
heart almost failed her. In all these years since they went to live
together at the Oaks, they had never been far apart--except once or
twice for a few days when he had gone to New Orleans to attend to
business connected with the care of her property; and only on a very
few occasions, when she paid a little visit in their own neighborhood,
had they been separated for more than a day.
She could not keep back her tears as she hung about his neck on
parting. "Ah, papa, how can I do without you for weeks and months?"
she sighed.
"Or I without you, my darling?" he responded, straining her to his
breast. "I don't know how I shall be able to stand it. You need not be
surprised to see me again at any time, returning to claim my treasure;
and in the meanwhile we will write to each other every day. I shall
want to know all you are doing, thinking, and feeling. You must tell
me of all your pursuits and pleasures; your new acquaintances, too,
if you form any. In that you must be guided by the advice of Aunt
Wealthy, together with your father's known wishes. I am sure I can
trust my daughter to obey those in my absence as carefully as in my
presence."
"I think you may, papa. I shall try to do nothing that you would
disapprove, and to attend faithfully to all your wishes."
Mr. Dinsmore left by the morning train, directly after breakfast. It
was a bright, clear day, and Miss Stanhope, anxious to help Elsie to
recover her spirits, proposed a little shopping expedition into the
village.
"You have not seen our stores yet," she said, "and I think we'd better
go now before the sun gets any hotter. Should you like it, my dear?"
"Thank you, yes, auntie. I will go and get ready at once."
Elsie could hardly forbear smiling at the quaint little figure that
met her in the porch a few moments later, and trotted with quick,
short steps by her side across the lawn and up and down the village
streets. The white muslin dress with its short and scanty skirt, an
embroidered scarf of the same material, the close, old-fashioned
leg-horn bonnet, trimmed with one broad strip of white mantua ribbon,
put straight down over the top and tied under the chin, and the black
mitts and morocco slippers of the same hue, formed a tout ensemble
which, though odd, was not unpleasant to look upon. In one hand the
little lady carried a very large parasol, in the other a gayly-colored
silk reticule of corresponding size, this last not by a ribbon or
string, but with its hem gathered up in her hand. All in singular
contrast to Elsie with her slight, graceful form, fully a head taller,
and her simple yet elegant costume. But the niece no more thought of
feeling ashamed of her aunt, than her aunt of her.
They entered a store, and the smiling merchant asked, "What can I do
for you to-day, ladies?"
"I will look at shirting muslin, if you please, Mr. Under," replied
Miss Stanhope, laying parasol and reticule upon the counter.
"Over, if you please, Miss Stanhope," he answered with an amused look.
"Just step this way, and I'll show you a piece that I think will
suit."
"I beg your pardon, I'm always making mistakes in names," she said,
doing as requested.
"Anything else to-day, ladies?" he asked when the muslin had been
selected. "I have quite a lot of remnants of dress goods, Miss
Stanhope. Would you like to look at them?"
"Yes," she answered almost eagerly, and he quickly spread them on the
counter before her. She selected quite a number, Elsie wondering what
she wanted with them.
"I'll send the package at once," said Mr. Over, as they left the
store.
They entered another where Miss Stanhope's first inquiry was for
remnants, and the same thing was repeated till, as she assured Elsie,
they had visited every dry-goods store in the place.
"Pretty nice ones, too, some of them are; don't you think so, dear?"
"Yes, auntie; but do you know you have strongly excited my curiosity?"
"Ah! how so?"
"Why, I cannot imagine what you can want with all those remnants. I'm
sure hardly one of them could be made into a dress for yourself or for
Phillis, and you have no little folks to provide for."
"But other folks have, child, and I shall use some of the smallest for
patchwork."
"Dere's a lady in de parlor, Miss Stanhope," said Chloe, meeting them
at the gate; "kind of lady," she added with a very broad smile, "come
to call on you, ma'am, and Miss Elsie too."
"We'll just go in without keeping her waiting to take off our
bonnets," said Aunt Wealthy, leading the way.
They found a rather gaudily-dressed, and not very refined-looking
woman, who rose and came forward to meet them with a boisterous
manner, evidently assumed to cover a slight feeling of embarrassment.
"Oh, I'm quite ashamed, Aunt Wealthy, to have been so long in calling
to see your friends; you really must excuse me; it's not been for want
of a strong disinclination, I do assure you: but you see I've been
away a-nursing of a sick sister."
"Certainly, Mrs. Sixpence."
"Excuse me, Schilling."
"Oh no, not at all, it's my mistake. Elsie, Mrs. Schilling. My niece,
Miss Dinsmore. Sit down, do. I'm sorry you got here before we were
through our shopping."
"I'm afraid it's rather an early call," began Mrs. Schilling, her
rubicund countenance growing redder than ever, "but--"
"Oh, aunt did not mean that," interposed Elsie, with gentle
kindliness. "She was only regretting that you had been kept waiting."
"Certainly," said Miss Stanhope. "You know I'm a sad hand at talking,
always getting the horse before the cart, as they say. But tell me
about your sister. I hope she has recovered. What ailed her?"
"She had inflammation of the tonsils; she's better now though; the
tonsils is all gone, and I think she'll get along. She's weak yet;
but that's all. There's been a good bit of sickness out there in that
neighborhood, through the winter and spring; there were several cases
of scarlet fever, and one of small-pox. That one died, and what do you
think, Aunt Wealthy; they had a reg'lar big funeral, took the corpse
into the church, and asked everybody around to come to it."
"I think it was really wicked, and that if I'd been the congregation,
every one of me would have staid away."
"So would I. There now, I'm bound to tell you something that happened
while I was at father's. My sister had a little girl going on two
years old, and one day the little thing took up a flat iron, and let
it fall on her toe, and mashed it so we were really afraid 'twould
have to be took off. We wrapped it up in some kind o' salve mother
keeps for hurts, and she kept crying and screamin' with pain, and we
couldn't peacify her nohow at all, till a lady that was visiting next
door come in and said we'd better give her a few drops of laud'num. So
we did, and would you believe it? it went right straight down into her
toe, and she stopped cryin', and pretty soon dropped asleep. I thought
it was the curiosest thing I ever heard of."
"It was a wise prescription, no doubt," returned Miss Stanhope, with a
quiet smile.
"Oh, Aunt Wealthy, won't you tell me how you make that Farmer's
fruit-cake?" asked the visitor, suddenly changing the subject. "Miss
Dinsmore, it's the nicest thing you ever eat. You'd be sure it had
raisins or currants in it."
"Certainly, Mrs. Schilling. You must soak three cups of dried apples
in warm water over night, drain off the water through a sieve, chop
the apples slightly, them simmer them for two hours in three cups of
molasses. After that add two eggs, one cup of sugar, one cup of sweet
milk or water, three-fourths of a cup of butter or lard, one-half
teaspoonful of soda, flour to make a pretty stiff batter, cinnamon,
cloves, and other spices to suit your taste."
"Oh, yes! but I'm afraid I'll hardly be able to remember all that."
"I'll write the receipt and send it over to you," said Elsie.
Mrs. Schilling returned her thanks, sat a little longer, conversing in
the same lucid style, then rose and took leave, urging the ladies to
call soon, and run in sociably as often as they could.
She was hardly out of the door before Aunt Wealthy was beating up
her crushed chair-cushions to that state of perfect roundness and
smoothness in which her heart delighted. It amused Elsie, who had
noticed that such was her invariable custom after receiving a call in
her parlor.
Lottie King and Mrs. Schilling passed each other on the porch, the
one coming in as the other went out. Kind Aunt Wealthy, intent on
preventing Elsie from grieving over the emptiness of her father's
accustomed seat at the table, had invited her young friend to dinner.
The hour of the meal had, however, not yet arrived, and the two girls
repaired to Elsie's room to spend the intervening time.
Lottie, in her benevolent desire to be so entertaining to Elsie that
her absent father should not be too sorely missed, seized upon the
first topic of conversation which presented itself and rattled on in a
very lively manner.
"So you have begun to make acquaintance with our peculiar currency,
mon ami! An odd sixpence as Aunt Wealthy calls her. Two of them I
should say, since it takes two sixpences to make a shilling."
"I don't know; I'm inclined to think Aunt Wealthy's arithmetic has the
right of it, since she was never more than a shilling, and has lost
her better half," returned Elsie, laughing.
"Better half, indeed! fie on you, Miss Dinsmore! have you so little
regard for the honor of your sex as to own that the man is ever that?
But I must tell you of the time when she sustained the aforesaid loss;
and let me observe, sustained is really the proper--very properest of
words to express my meaning, for it was very far from crushing her.
While her husband was lying a corpse, mother went over with a pie,
thinking it might be acceptable, as people are not apt to feel like
cooking at such a time. She did not want to disturb the new-made widow
in the midst of her grief, and did not ask for her; but Mrs. Schilling
came to the door. 'Oh, I'm so much obliged to you for bringing that
pie!' she said. 'It was so good of you. I hadn't any appetite to eat
while he was sick, but now that he's dead, I feel as if I could eat
something. You and your girls must come over and spend a day with
me some time soon. He's left me full and plenty, and you needn't be
afraid to take a meal's victuals off me'!"
"How odd! I don't think she could be quite broken-hearted."
"No, and she has apparently forgotten him, and bestowed her affections
upon another; a widower named Wert. Mr. Was, Aunt Wealthy usually
calls him. They both attend our church, and everybody notices how
impossible it seems to be for her to keep her eyes off him; and you
can never be five minutes in her company without hearing his name.
Didn't she talk of him to-day?"
"Oh, yes, she spoke of Mr. Wert visiting some sick man, to talk and
pray with him, and rejoiced that the man did not die till he gave
evidence that he was repaired."
"Yes, that sounds like her," laughed Lottie. "She's always getting the
wrong word. I told you she never could keep her eyes off Mr. Wert.
Well, the other day--three or four weeks ago--coming from church he
was behind her; she kept looking back at him, and presently came bump
up against a post. She made an outcry, of course everybody laughed,
and she hurried off with a very red face. That put an idea into my
head, and--" Lottie paused, laughing and blushing--
"I'm half ashamed to tell you, but I believe I will--Nettie and I
wrote a letter in a sort of manly hand, signed his initials, and put
it into an iron pot that she keeps standing near her back door. The
letter requested that she would put her answer in the same place, and
she did. Oh, it was rich! such a rapture of delight; and such spelling
and such grammar as were used to express it! It was such fun that we
went on, and there have been half a dozen letters on each side. I
daresay she is wondering why the proposal doesn't come. Ah, Elsie, I
see you don't approve; you are as grave as a judge."
"I would prefer not to express an opinion; so please don't ask me."
"But you don't think it was quite right, now do you?"
"Since you have asked a direct question, Lottie, dear," Elsie
answered, with some hesitation, "I'll own that it does not seem to me
quite according to the golden rule."
"No," Lottie said, after a moment's pause, in which she sat with
downcast eyes, and cheeks crimsoning with mortification. "I'm ashamed
of myself, and I hope I shall never again allow my love of fun to
carry me so far from what is true and kind.
"And so Aunt Wealthy took you out shopping, and secured the benefit of
your taste and judgment in the choice of her remnants?" she exclaimed,
with a sudden change to a lively, mirthful tone.
"How do you know that she bought remnants?" asked Elsie, in surprise.
"Oh, she always does; that's a particular hobby of the dear old
body's; two or three times in a season she goes around to all the
stores, and buys up the most of their stock; they save the best of
them for her, and always know what she's after the moment she shows
her pleasant face. She gives them away, generally, to the minister's
wife, telling her the largest are to be made into dresses for her
little girls; and the poor lady is often in great tribulation, not
knowing how to get the dresses out of such small patterns, and afraid
to put them to any other use, lest Miss Stanhope should feel hurt or
offended. By the way, what do you think of Aunt Wealthy's own dress?"
"That it is very quaint and odd, but suits her as no other would."
"I'm so glad! It's just what we all think, but before you came we were
much afraid you would use your influence to induce her to adopt a more
fashionable attire."