Bear fair presence, though your heart be tainted;
Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint.
--SHAKESPEARE'S "COMEDY OF ERRORS."
"It's a very handsome present, child, very; and your old auntie will
be reminded of you every time she uses it, or looks at it."
"Both beautiful and useful, like the giver," remarked Lottie.
"It" was a sewing-machine, Elsie's gift to Aunt Wealthy, forwarded
from Cincinnati, by Mr. Dinsmore; the handsomest and the best to be
found in the city; so Elsie had requested that it should be, and so he
had written that it was.
"I am glad you like it, auntie, and you too, Lottie," was all she said
in response to their praises, but her eyes sparkled with pleasure at
the old lady's evident delight.
"It" had arrived half an hour before, on this the second morning after
Mr. Dinsmore's departure, and now stood in front of one of the windows
of Aunt Wealthy's bedroom--a delightfully shady, airy apartment on the
ground floor, back of the parlor, and with window and door opening
out upon a part of the lawn where the trees were thickest and a tiny
fountain sent up its showers of spray.
Miss Stanhope stood at a table, cutting out shirts. Lottie was
experimenting on the machine with a bit of muslin, and Elsie sat
near by with her father's letter in her hand, her soft dark eyes now
glancing over it for perhaps the twentieth time, now at the face of
one or the other of her companions, as Lottie rattled on in her usual
gay, flighty style, and Aunt Wealthy answered her sometimes with a
straightforward sentence, and again with one so topsy-turvy that her
listeners could not forbear a smile.
"For whom are you making shirts, aunt?" asked Elsie.
"For my boy Harry. He writes that his last set are going wonderfully
fast; so I must send up another to make."
"You must let us help you, Lottie and I; we have agreed that it will
be good fun for us."
"Thank you, dearie, but I didn't suppose plain sewing was among your
accomplishments."
"Mamma says I am quite a good needle-woman," Elsie replied with a
smile and a blush, "and if I am not it is no fault of hers. She took
great pains to teach me. I cut out a shirt for papa once, and made
every stitch of it myself."
"And she can run the machine too," said Lottie, "though her papa won't
let her do so for more than half an hour at a time, lest she should
hurt herself."
"He's very careful of her, and no wonder," Aunt Wealthy responded,
with a loving look at the sweet, fair face. "You may help me a little,
now and then, children, when it just suits your humor, but I want you
to have all the rides and walks, the reading and recreation of every
sort that you can enjoy."
"Here comes Lenwilla Ellawea Schilling," said Lottie, glancing from
the window.
"What do you want, Willy?" asked Miss Stanhope, as the child appeared
in the doorway with a teacup in her hand.
"Mother wants a little light'ning to raise her bread."
"Yeast? Oh, yes, just go round to Phillis, and she'll give you some."
The door-bell rang.
"It's a gentleman," said the child, "I seen him a-coming in at the
gate."
Chloe answered the bell and entered the room the next moment with a
letter, which she handed to Miss Stanhope.
The old lady adjusted her spectacles and broke the seal. "Ah, a letter
of introduction, and from my old friend and schoolmate Anna Waters;
wishes me to treat the young man with all the courtesy and kindness I
would show to her own son, for she esteems him most highly, etc., etc.
Aunt Chloe, what have you done with him?"
"Showed him into de parlor, mistis, and leff him a-sittin' dar."
"What's his name, auntie?" asked Lottie, as the old lady refolded the
letter and took off her glasses.
"Bromly Egerton; quite romantic, isn't it? Excuse me for a few
minutes, dears; I must go and see what he wants."
Aunt Wealthy found a well-dressed, handsome young man seated on one of
her softly-cushioned chairs. He rose and came forward to meet her with
courtly ease and grace. "Miss Stanhope, I presume?"
"You are right, Mr. Ledgerfield. Pray be seated, sir."
"Thank you, madam, but let me first help you to a seat. Excuse the
correction, but Egerton is my name."
"Ah, yes! For the sake of my friend, Mrs. Waters, I welcome you to
Lansdale. Do you expect to make some stay in our town?"
"Well, madam, I hardly had such expectation before arriving here, but
I find it so pretty a place that I begin to think I can scarcely do
better. My health has been somewhat impaired by very strict and close
attention to business; and my physician has ordered entire relaxation
for a time, and fresh country air. Can you recommend a boarding-place
in town? Some quiet, private hotel where drinking and things of that
kind would not be going on. I'm not used to it, and should find it
very disgusting."
"I'm glad to hear such sentiments, young man; they do you honor. I
daresay Mrs. Sixpence,--no, Mrs. Schilling,--just opposite here, would
take you in. She told me some weeks ago that she would be glad to have
one or two gentlemen boarders."
"Thank you, the location would suit me well; and you think she could
give me comfortable accommodations?"
"I do; she has pleasant rooms and is a good cook."
"A widow?"
"Yes, not very young, and has two children. But they are old enough
not to be annoying to a boarder."
"What sort of woman is she?"
"A good manager, neat, industrious, honest, and obliging. Very
suitable for a landlady, if you are not looking in the person of your
hostess for an intellectual companion."
"Oh, not at all, Miss Stanhope, unless--unless you could find it in
your benevolent heart to take me in yourself;" and his smile was very
insinuating. "In that case I should have the luxury of intellectual
companionship superadded to the other advantages of which you have
spoken."
The old lady smiled, but shook her head quite decidedly. "I have lived
so long in the perfect house that I should not know how to give it up.
I have come to think men a care and a trouble that I cannot take upon
me in my old age."
"Excuse me, my dear madam, for the unwarrantable liberty I took
in asking it," he said in an apologetic tone, and with a slightly
embarrassed air. "I beg ten thousand pardons."
"That is a great many," she answered with a smile, "but you may
consider them all granted. I hope you left my friend Mrs. Waters well?
I must answer her letter directly."
"Ah, then you are not aware that she is already on her way to Europe?"
"No, is she indeed?"
"Yes, she sailed the day after that letter was written; which accounts
for the date not being a very recent one. You see I did not leave
immediately on receiving it from her."
She was beginning to wish that he would go, but he lingered for some
time, vainly hoping for a glimpse of Elsie. On finally taking his
leave, he asked her to point out Mrs. Schilling's house, and she
noticed that he went directly there.
"Really, auntie, we began to think that your visitor must intend to
spend the day," cried Lottie, as Miss Stanhope returned to her room
and her interrupted employment.
"Ah? Well it was not my urging that kept him; I was very near telling
him that he was making me waste a good deal of time" replied the old
lady; then seeing that Lottie was curious on the subject, she kindly
went on to tell all that she had learned in regard to the stranger and
his intentions.
Elsie was amusing herself with Thomas, trying to cajole him to return
to the frolicsomeness of his long-forgotten kittenhood, and did not
seem to hear or heed. What interest for her had this stranger, or his
doings?
"Young and handsome, you say, Aunt Wealthy? and going to stay in
Lansdale all summer? Would you advise me to set my cap for him?"
"No, Lottie; not I."
"You were not smitten with the gentleman, eh?"
"Not enough to spare him to you anyhow, but he may improve upon
acquaintance."
"I don't approve of marrying, though, do you, auntie? Your practice
certainly seems to speak disapproval."
"Perhaps every one does not have the opportunity, my dear," answered
the old lady, with a quiet smile.
"Oh, but you must have had plenty of them. Isn't that so? and why did
you never accept?"
Elsie dropped the string she had been waving before the eyes of the
cat, and looked up with eager interest.
"Yes, I had offers, and one of them I accepted," replied Aunt Wealthy,
with a slight sigh, while a shade of sadness stole over her usually
happy face, "but my friends interfered and the match was broken off.
Don't follow my example, children, but marry if the right one comes
along."
"Surely you don't mean if our parents refuse their consent, auntie?"
Elsie's tone spoke both surprise and disapproval.
"No, no, child! It is to those who keep the fifth commandment God
promises long life and prosperity."
"And love makes it so easy and pleasant to keep it," murmured Elsie,
softly, and with a sweet, glad smile on her lips and in her eyes,
thinking of her absent father, and almost unconsciously thinking
aloud.
"Ah, child, it can sometimes make it very hard," said Miss Stanhope,
with another little sigh, and shaking her head rather sadly.
"Elsie, you must have had lots of lovers before this, I am sure!"
exclaimed Lottie, stopping her machine, and facing suddenly round upon
her friend. "No girl as rich and beautiful as you are could have lived
eighteen years without such an experience."
Elsie only smiled and blushed.
"Come now, am I not right?" persisted Lottie.
"I do assure you that I have actually lived to this mature age quite
heart-whole," laughed Elsie. "If I have an idol, it is papa, and I
don't believe anybody can ever succeed in displacing him."
"You have quite misunderstood me, wilfully or innocently--I asked of
your worshippers, not of your idols. Haven't you had offers?"
"Several; money has strong attractions for most men, papa tells me."
"May the Lord preserve you from the sad fate of a woman married for
her money, dear child!" ejaculated Aunt Wealthy, with a glance of
anxious affection at her lovely niece. "I'm sometimes tempted to think
a large amount of it altogether a curse and an affliction."
"It is a great responsibility, auntie," replied Elsie, with a look of
gravity beyond her years. Then after a moment's pause, her expression
changing to one of gayety and joy, "Now, if you and Lottie will excuse
me for a little, I'll run up to my room, and answer papa's letter,"
she said, rising to her feet. "After which I shall be ready to make
myself useful in the capacity of seamstress. Au revoir." And she
tripped away with a light, free step, every movement as graceful as
those of a young gazelle.
Mr. Bromly Egerton, alias Tom Jackson, was fortunate enough to find
Mrs. Schilling at home. It was she who answered his knock.
"Good-day, sir," she said. "Will you walk in? Just step into the
parlor here, and take a seat."
He accepted the invitation and stated his business without preface, or
waiting to be questioned at all.
She seemed to be considering for a moment. "Well, yes, I can't say as
I'd object to taking a few gentlemen boarders, but--I'd want to know
who you be, and all about you."
"Certainly, ma'am, that's all right. I'm from the East; rather broken
down with hard work--a business man, you see--and want to spend the
summer here to recruit. Pitched upon your town because it strikes me
as an uncommonly pretty place. I brought a letter of introduction to
your neighbor, Miss Stanhope, and she recommended me to come here in
search of board, saying you'd make a capital landlady."
"Well, if she recommends you, it's all right. Would you like to look
at the rooms?"
She had two to dispose of--one at the back and the other in the front
of the house, both cheerful, airy, of reasonable size, and neatly
furnished. He preferred the latter, because it overlooked Miss
Stanhope's house and grounds.
As he stood at the window, taking note of this, a young girl appeared
at the one opposite. For one minute he had a distinct view of her face
as she stood there and put out her hand to gather a blossom from the
vine that had festooned itself so gracefully over the window.
He uttered an exclamation of delighted surprise, and turning to his
companion asked, "Who is she?"
"Miss Dinsmore, Miss Stanhope's niece. She's here on a visit to her
aunt. She's from the South, and worth a mint of money, they say. Aint
she handsome though? handsome as a picture?"
"Posh! handsome doesn't begin to express it! Why, she's angelic! But
there! she's gone!" And he drew a long breath as he turned away.
"You'd better conclude to take this room if you like to look at her,"
artfully suggested Mrs. Schilling. "That's her bedroom window, and
she's often at it. Besides, you can see the whole front of Miss
Stanhope's place from here, and watch all the comings and goings o'
the girls--Miss Dinsmore, and Miss Nettie and Lottie King."
"Who are they?"
"Kind o' fur-off cousins to Miss Stanhope. They live in that next
house to hern, and are amazin' thick with her, runnin' in and out all
times o' day. Nice, spry, likely girls they be too, not bad-lookin'
neither, but hardly fit to hold a candle to Miss Dinsmore, as fur as
beauty's concerned. Well, what do you say to the room, Mr. Egerton?"
"That I will take it, and would like to have immediate possession."
"All right, sir; fetch your traps whenever you've a mind; right away,
if you like."
There was no lack of good society in Lansdale. It had even more than
the usual proportion of well-to-do, intelligent, educated, and refined
people to be found in American villages of its size. They were
hospitable folks, too, disposed to be kind to strangers tarrying in
their midst, and, Miss Stanhope being an old resident, well known and
highly esteemed, spite of her eccentricities, her friends had received
a good deal of attention. Elsie had already become slightly acquainted
with a number of pleasant families; a good many young girls, and also
several young gentlemen had called upon her, and Lottie assured her
there were many more to come.
"Some of the very nicest are apt to be slow about calling--we're
such busy folks here," she said, laughing. "I've a notion, too, that
several of the beaux stood rather in awe of your papa."
They were talking together over their sewing, after Elsie had come
down from finishing her letter, and sent Chloe to the post-office with
it.
"I don't wonder," she answered, looking up with a smile; "there was a
time, a long while ago, when I was very much afraid of him myself; and
even now I have such a wholesome dread of his displeasure as would
keep me from any act of disobedience, if love was not sufficient to do
that without help from any other motive."
"You are very fond of him, and he of you?"
"Yes, indeed! how could it be otherwise when for so many years each
was all the other had? But I'm sure, quite sure that neither of us
loves the other less because now we have mamma and darling little
Horace."
"I should like to know them both," said Miss Stanhope. "I hope your
father will bring them with him when he comes back for you."
"Oh, I hope he will! I want so much to have you know them. Mamma is so
dear and sweet, almost as dear as papa himself. And Horace--well, I
can't believe there ever was quite such another darling to be found,"
Elsie continued, with a light, joyous laugh.
"Ah!" said Aunt Wealthy with a sigh and a smile, "it is a good and
pleasant thing to be young and full of life and gayety, and to have
kind, wise parents to look to for help and guidance. You will realize
that when you grow old and have to be a prop for others to lean upon
instead."
"Yes, dear auntie," Elsie answered, giving her a look of loving
reverence, "but surely the passing years must have brought you so much
wisdom and self-reliance that that can be no such very hard task to
you."
"Ah, child!" replied the old lady, shaking her head, "I often feel
that my stock of those is very small. But then how sweet it is to
remember that I have a Father to whom I never shall grow old; never
cease to be His little child, in constant need of His tender, watchful
care to guard and guide. Though the gray hairs are on my head, the
wrinkles of time, sorrow, and care upon my brow, He does not think me
old enough to be left to take care of myself. No; He takes my hand in
His and leads me tenderly and lovingly along, choosing each step for
me, protecting me from harm, and providing for all my needs. What does
He say? 'Even to your old age I am He; and even to hoar hairs will I
carry you'!"
"Such sweet words! They almost reconcile one to growing old," murmured
Lottie, and Aunt Wealthy answered, with a subdued gladness in her
tones, "You need not dread it, child, for does not every year bring us
nearer home?"
The needles flew briskly until the dinner-bell sounded its welcome
summons.
"We shall finish two at least this afternoon, I think," said Lottie,
folding up her work.
"No, we've had sewing enough for to-day," replied Miss Stanhope. "I
have ordered the carriage at two. We will have a drive this afternoon,
and music this evening; if you and Elsie do not consider it too much
of a task to play and sing for your old auntie."
"A task, Aunt Wealthy! It would be a double delight--giving you
pleasure and ourselves enjoying the delicious tones of that splendid
piano. Its fame has already spread over the whole town," she added,
turning to Elsie, "and between its attractions and those of its owner,
I know there'll be a great influx of visitors here."
Elsie was a very fine musician, and for her benefit during her stay in
Lansdale, Mr. Dinsmore had had a grand piano sent on from the East,
ordering it in season to have it arrive almost as soon as they
themselves.
"Yes, Lottie is quite right about it, Aunt Wealthy, and you shall
call for all the tunes you want," Elsie said, noticing her friend's
prediction merely by a quiet smile.
"You don't know how I enjoy that piano," Lottie rattled on as they
began their meal. "It must be vastly pleasant to have plenty of
money and such an indulgent father as yours, Elsie. Not that I would
depreciate my own at all--I wouldn't exchange him even for yours--but
he, you see, has more children and less money."
"Yes, I think we are both blessed in our fathers," answered Elsie. "I
admire yours very much; and mine is, indeed, very indulgent, though at
the same time very strict; he never spares expense or trouble to give
me pleasure. But the most delightful thing of all is to know that he
loves me so very, very dearly;" and the soft eyes shone with the light
of love and joy.
It was nearly tea time when they returned from their drive, some lady
callers having prevented them from setting out at the early hour
intended.
"Now I must run right home," said Lottie, as they alighted. "Mother
complains that she gets no good of me at all of late."
"Well, she has Nettie," returned Miss Stanhope, "and she told me Elsie
and I might have all we wanted of you till the poor child gets a
little used to her father's absence."
"Did she, Aunt Wealthy? There, I'll remind her of that, and also of
the fact that Nettie is worth two of me any day."
"And you'll come back to spend the evening? Indeed you must, or how is
Elsie to learn her visitors' names? You know I could never get them
straight. But there's the tea-bell, so come in with us. No need to go
home till bed-time, or till to-morrow, that I can see."
"Thank you, but of course, auntie, I want to primp a bit, just as you
did in your young days, when the beaux were coming. So good-bye for
the present," she cried, skipping away with a merry laugh, Miss
Stanhope calling after her to bring Nettie along when she returned.
"We have so many odd names in this town, and I such an odd sort of
memory, that I make a great many mistakes," said the old lady, leading
the way to the house.
Elsie thought that was all very true, when in the course of the
evening she was introduced to Mr. Comings, Mr. Tizard, Mr. Stop,
Miss Lock, and Miss Over, and afterward heard her aunt address them
variously as "Mr. In-and-out," "Mr. Wizard," "Mr. Lizard," "Mr. Quit,"
"Miss Under," and "Miss Key."
But the old lady's peculiarity was so well known that no one thought
of taking offence; and her mistakes caused only mirth and amusement.
Lottie's prediction was so fully verified that Elsie seemed to be
holding a sort of levee.
"What faultless features, exquisitely beautiful complexion, and sweet
expression she has." "What a graceful form, what pleasant, affable
manners, so entirely free from affectation or hauteur; no patronizing
airs about her either, but perfect simplicity and kindliness." "And
such a sweet, happy, intelligent face." "Such beautiful hair too;
did you notice that? so abundant, soft and glossy, and such a
lovely color." "Yes, and what simple elegance of dress." "She's an
accomplished musician, too, and has a voice as sweet, rich, and full
as a nightingale's," remarked one and another as they went away. The
unanimous verdict seemed to be, that the young stranger was altogether
charming.
Across the street, Mrs. Schilling's boarder paced to and fro, watching
the coming and going, listening to the merry salutations, and gay
adieux, the light laughter, and the sweet strains of music and song,
till the desire to make one of the happy throng grew so strong upon
him that it was no longer to be resisted.
"I will go in with those," he muttered, crossing over just in time to
enter directly in the rear of a lady and gentleman, whom he saw coming
up the street. "Miss Stanhope invited me to call again, without
particularizing how soon, and I can turn my speedy acceptance into a
compliment to their music, without even a white lie, for it does sound
extremely attractive to a lonely, idle fellow like me."
Miss Stanhope met him at the door, would scarce listen to his
apology--insisting that "none was needed; one who had come to her with
such an introduction from so valued a friend as Mrs. Waters, must
always be a welcome guest in her house"--and ushering him into the
parlor, introduced him to her niece, and all others present.
A nearer and more critical view of Elsie only increased his
admiration; he thought her the loveliest creature he had ever seen.
But it did not suit his tactics to show immediately any strong
attraction toward her, or desire to win her regard. For this evening
he devoted himself almost exclusively to Miss Stanhope, exerting all
his powers to make a favorable impression upon her.
In this he was entirely successful. He had, when he chose, most
agreeable and polished manners. Also he had seen much of the world,
possessed a large fund of general information, and knew exactly how to
use it to the best advantage. With these gifts, very fine, expressive
eyes, regular features, and handsome person, no wonder he could boast
himself "a woman-killer."
Aunt Wealthy, though old enough to be invulnerable to Cupid's arrows,
showed by her warm praises, after he had left that evening, that she
was not proof against his fascinations.