FRANKFORT.
Thursday morning came, bright, sunshiny and beautiful, and at about ten
o’clock ’Lena, dressed and ready for her ride, came down to the parlor,
where she found John Jr. listlessly leaning upon the table with his
elbows, and drumming with his fingers.
“Come, cousin,” said she, “why are you not ready?”
“Ready for what?” he answered, without raising his head.
“Why, ready for our visit,” replied Lena, at the same time advancing
nearer, to see what ailed him.
“All the visit I make to-day won’t hurt me, I reckon,” said he; pushing
his hat a little more to one side and looking up at ’Lena, who, in some
surprise, asked what he meant.
“I mean what I say,” was his ungracious answer; “I’ve no intention
whatever of going to Frankfort.”
“Not going?” repeated ’Lena. “Why not? What will Carrie do?”
“Stick herself in with you and Durward, I suppose,” said John Jr., just
as Carrie entered the room, together with Mr. Bellmont, Malcolm, and
Anna.
“Not going?—of course then I must stay at home, too,” said Carrie,
secretly pleased at her brother’s decision.
“Why of course?” asked Durward, who, in the emergency, felt constrained
to offer his services to Carrie though he would greatly have preferred
’Lena’s company alone. “The road is wide enough for three, and I am
fully competent to take charge of two ladies. But why don’t you go?”
turning to John Jr.
“Because I don’t wish to. If it was anywhere in creation but there, I’d
go,” answered the young man; hastily leaving the room to avoid all
further argument.
“He does it just to be hateful and annoy me,” said Carrie, trying to
pout, but making a failure, for she had in reality much rather go under
Durward’s escort than her brother’s.
The horses were now announced as ready, and in a few moments the little
party were on their way, Carrie affecting so much fear of her pony that
Durward at last politely offered to lead him a while. This would of
course bring him close to her side, and after a little well-feigned
hesitation, she replied, “I am sorry to trouble you, but if you would
be so kind——”
’Lena saw through the ruse, and patting Vesta gently, rode on in
advance, greatly to the satisfaction of Carrie, and greatly to the
chagrin of Durward, who replied to his loquacious companion only in
monosyllables. Once, indeed, when she said something concerning ’Lena’s
evident desire to show off her horsemanship, he answered rather coolly,
that “he’d yet to discover in Miss Rivers the least propensity for
display of any kind.”
“You’ve never lived with her,” returned Carrie, and here the
conversation concerning ’Lena ceased.
Meantime, Nellie Douglass was engaged in answering a letter that
morning received from Mary Wilbur. A few years before, Mary had spent
some months in Mr. Douglass’s family, conceiving a strong affection for
Nellie, whom she always called her sister, and with whom she kept up a
regular correspondence. Mary was an orphan, living with her only
brother Robert, who was a bachelor of thirty or thirty-five. Once she
had ventured to hope that Nellie would indeed be to her a sister, but
fate had decreed it otherwise, and her brother was engaged to a lady
whom he found a school-girl in Montreal, and who was now at her own
home in England. This was well-known to Nellie, but she did not deem it
a matter of sufficient importance to discuss, so it was a secret in
Frankfort, where Mr. Wilbur’s polite attentions to herself was a
subject of considerable remark. For a long time Mary had been out of
health, and the family physician at last said that nothing could save
her except a sea voyage, and as her brother was about going to Europe
to consummate his marriage, it was decided that she should accompany
him. This she was willing to do, provided Nellie Douglass would go too.
“It would be much pleasanter,” she said, “having some female companion
besides her attendant, and then, too, Nellie had relatives in England;”
so she urged her to accompany them, offering to defray all expenses for
the pleasure of her society.
Since Nellie’s earliest recollection, her fondest dreams had been of
England, her mother’s birthplace; and now when so favorable an
opportunity for visiting it was presented, she felt strongly tempted to
say “Yes.” Still, she would give Mary no encouragement until she had
seen her father and John Jr., the latter of whom would influence her
decision quite as much as the former. But John Jr. no longer loved
her—she was sure of that—and with her father’s consent she had half
determined to go. Still she was undecided, until a letter came from
Mary, urging her to make up her mind without delay, as they were to
sail the 15th of January.
“Brother is so sensitive concerning his love affairs,” wrote Mary,
“that whether you conclude to join us or not, you will please say
nothing about his intended marriage.”
Nellie had seated herself to answer this letter, when a servant came
up, saying that “Marster Bellmont, all the Livingstones, and a heap
more were downstars, and had sent for her.”
She was just writing, “I will go,” when this announcement came, and
quickly suspending her pen, she thought, “He’s come, at last. It may
all be a mistake. I’ll wait.” With a beating heart she descended to the
parlor, where she politely greeted Mr. Everett and Durward, and then
anxiously glanced around for the missing one. Mabel, who felt a similar
disappointment, ventured to inquire for him, in a low tone, whereupon
Carrie replied, loudly enough for Nellie to hear, “Oh, pray don’t speak
of that bear. Why, you don’t know how cross he’s been ever since—let me
see—ever since you came away. He doesn’t say a civil word to anybody,
and I really wish you’d come back before he kills us all.’
“Did you invite him to come ?” said Nellie.
“To be sure we did,” answered Carrie, “and he said, ‘anywhere in
creation but there.’”
Nellie needed no further confirmation, and after conversing awhile with
her guests, she begged leave to be excused for a few moments, while she
finished a letter of importance, which must go out in the next mail.
Alone in her room, she wavered, but the remembrance of the words,
“anywhere in creation but there,” decided her, and with a firm hand she
wrote to Mary that she would go. When the letter was finished and sent
to the office, Nellie returned to her visitors, who began to rally her
concerning the important letter which must be answered.
“Now, coz,” said Durward, pulling her down upon the sofa by his side,
“now, coz, I claim a right to know something about this letter. Was it
one of acceptance or rejection?”
“Acceptance, of course,” answered Nellie, who, knowing no good reason
why her intended tour should be kept a secret, proceeded to speak of
it, telling how they were to visit Scotland, France, Switzerland, and
Italy, and almost forgetting, in her enthusiasm, how wretched the
thought of the journey made her.
“And Miss Wilbur’s brother is to be your escort—he is unmarried, I
believe?” said Durward, looking steadily upon the carpet.
In a moment Nellie would have told of his engagement, and the object of
his going, but she remembered Mary’s request in time, and the blush
which the almost committed mistake called to her cheek, was construed
by all into a confession that there was something between her and Mr.
Wilbur.
“That accounts for John’s sudden churlishness,” thought ’Lena,
wondering how Nellie could have deceived him so.
“Oh, I see it all,” exclaimed Mabel. “I understand now what has made
Nellie so absent-minded and restless these many days. She was making up
her mind to become Mrs. Wilbur, while I fancied she was offended with
me.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” answered Nellie, without smiling in the
least. “Mary Wilbur wishes me to accompany her to Europe, and I intend
doing so. Her brother is nothing to me, nor ever will be.”
“Quite a probable story,” thought Mr. Everett, without forming his
reflections into words.
Toward the middle of the afternoon, a violent ringing of the door-bell,
and a heavy tramp in the hall, announced some new arrival, and Nellie
was about opening the parlor door, when who should appear but John Jr.!
From his room he had watched the departure of the party, one moment
wishing he was with them, and the next declaring he’d never go to
Frankfort again so long as he lived! At length inclination getting the
ascendency of his reason, he mounted Firelock, and rushing furiously
down the ’pike, never once slackened his speed until the city was in
sight.
“I dare say she’ll think me a fool,” thought he, “tagging her round,
but she needn’t worry. I only want to show her how little her pranks
affect me.”
With these thoughts he could not fail to meet Nellie otherwise than
coldly, while she received him with equal indifference, calling him Mr.
Livingstone, and asking if he were cold, with other questions, such as
any polite hostess would ask of her guest. But her accustomed smile and
usual frankness of manner were gone, and while John Jr. felt it keenly,
he strove under a mask of indifference, to conceal his chagrin. Mabel
seemed delighted to see him, and for want of something better to do, he
devoted himself to her, calling her Meb, and teasing her about her
“Indian locks,” as he called her straight, black hair. Could he have
seen the bitter tears which Nellie constantly forced back, as she moved
carelessly among her guests, far different would have been his conduct.
But he only felt that she had been untrue to him, and in his anger he
was hardly conscious of what he was doing.
So when Mabel said to him, “Nellie is going to Europe with Mr. Wilbur
and Mary,” he replied, “Glad of it—hope she’ll”—be drowned, he
thought—“have a good time,” he said—and Nellie, who heard all, never
guessed how heavily the blow had fallen, or that the hand so suddenly
placed against his heart, was laid there to still the wild throbbing
which he feared she might hear.
When next he spoke, his voice was very calm, as he asked when she was
going, and how long she intended to be gone. “What! so soon?” said he,
when told that she sailed the 15th of January, and other than that, not
a word did he say to Nellie concerning her intended visit, until just
before they left for home. Then for a moment he stood alone with her in
the recess of a window. There was a film upon his eyes as he looked
upon her, and thought it might be for the last time. There was anguish,
too, in his heart, but it did not mingle in the tones of his voice,
which was natural, and, perhaps, indifferent, as he said, “Why do you
go to Europe, Nellie?”
Quickly, and with something of her olden look, she glanced up into his
face, but his eyes, which would not meet hers, lest they should betray
themselves, were resting upon Mabel, who, on a stool across the room,
was petting and caressing a kitten. ’Twas enough, and carelessly Nellie
answered, “Because I want to; what do you suppose?”
Without seeming to hear her answer, the young man walked away to where
Mabel sat, and commenced teasing her and her kitten, while Nellie,
maddened with herself, with him, with everybody, precipitately left the
room, and going to her chamber hastily, and without a thought as to
what she was doing, gathered together every little token which John Jr.
had given her, together with his notes and letters, written in his own
peculiar and scarcely legible hand. Tying them in a bundle, she wrote
with unflinching nerve, “Do thou likewise,” and then descending to the
hall, laid it upon the hat-stand, managing, as he was leaving, to place
it unobserved in his hand. Instinctively he knew what it was, glanced
at the three words written thereon, and in a cold, sneering voice,
replied, “I will, with pleasure.”
And thus they parted.