CONSULTATION.
"Oh, Harry, I'm so glad to see you back! In such trouble as I've been
to-day! Don't you think, this very morning, as I was sitting in Aunt
Nesbit's room, Tomtit brought up these two letters; and one of them is
from Clayton, and the other from Mr. Carson; and, now, see here what
Clayton says: 'I shall have business that will take me in your vicinity
next week; and it is quite possible, unless I hear from you to the
contrary, that you may see me at Canema next Friday or Saturday.' Well,
then, see here; there's another from Mr. Carson,--that hateful Carson!
Now, you see, he hasn't got my letter; says he is coming. What
impudence! I'm tired to death of that creature, and he'll be here just
as certain! Disagreeable people always do keep their promises! He'll
certainly be here!"
"Well, Miss Nina, you recollect you said you thought it would be good
fun."
"Oh, Harry, don't bring that up, I beg of you! The fact is, Harry, I've
altered my mind about that. You know I've put a stop to all those
foolish things at once, and am done with them. You know I wrote to
Carson and Emmons, both, that my sentiments had changed, and all that
sort of thing, that the girls always say. I'm going to dismiss all of
'em at once, and have no more fooling."
"What, all? Mr. Clayton and all?"
"Well, I don't know, exactly,--no. Do you know, Harry, I think his
letters are rather improving?--at least, they are different letters from
any I've got before; and, though I don't think I shall break my heart
after him, yet I like to get them. But the other two I'm sick to death
of; and, as for having that creature boring round here, I won't! At any
rate, I don't want him and Clayton here together. I wouldn't have them
together for the world; and I wrote a letter to keep Carson off, this
morning, and I've been in trouble all day. Everybody has plagued me.
Aunt Nesbit only gave me one of her mopy lectures about flirting, and
wouldn't help me in the least. And, then, Old Hundred: I wanted him to
get out the carriage and horses for me to go over and put this letter in
the office, and I never saw such a creature in my life! I can't make him
do anything! I should like to know what the use is of having servants,
if you can't get anything done!"
"Oh, as to Old Hundred, I understand him, and he understands me," said
Harry. "I never find any trouble with him; but he is a provoking old
creature. He stands very much on the dignity of his office. But, if you
want your letter carried to-night, I can contrive a safer way than that,
if you'll trust it to me."
"Ah! well, do take it!"
"Yes," said Harry, "I'll send a messenger across on horseback, and I
have means to make him faithful."
"Well, Harry, Harry!" said Nina, catching at his sleeve as he was going
out, "come back again, won't you? I want to talk to you."
During Harry's absence, our heroine drew a letter from her bosom, and
read it over.
"How well he writes!" she said to herself. "So different from the rest
of them! I wish he'd keep away from here,--that's what I do! It's a
pretty thing to get his letters, but I don't think I want to see _him_.
Oh, dear! I wish I had somebody to talk to about it--Aunt Nesbit is _so_
cross! I can't--no, I won't care about him! Harry is a kind soul."
"Ah, Harry, have you sent the letter?" said she eagerly as he entered.
"I have, Miss Nina; but I can't flatter you too much. I'm afraid it's
too late for the mail--though there's never any saying when the mail
goes out, within two or three hours."
"Well, I hope it will stay for me, once. If that stupid creature comes,
why, I don't know what I shall do! He's so presuming! and he'll squeak
about with those horrid shoes of his; and then, I suppose, it will all
come out, one way or another; and I don't know what Clayton will think."
"But I thought you didn't care _what_ he thought."
"Well, you know, he's been writing to me all about his family. There's
his father, is a very distinguished man, of a very old family; and he's
been writing to me about his sister, the most dreadfully sensible
sister, he has got--good, lovely, accomplished, and pious! Oh, dear me!
I don't know what in the world he ever thought of _me_ for! And, do you
think, there's a postscript from his sister, written elegantly as can
be!"
"As to family, Miss Nina," said Harry, "I think the Gordons can hold up
their heads with anybody; and, then, I rather think you'll like Miss
Clayton."
"Ah! but, then, Harry, this talking about fathers and sisters, it's
bringing the thing awfully _near!_ It looks so much, you know, as if I
really were caught. Do you know, Harry, I think I'm just like my pony?
You know, she likes to have you come and offer her corn, and stroke her
neck; and she likes to _make you believe_ she's going to let you catch
her; but when it comes to putting a bridle on her, she's off in a
minute. Now, that's the way with me. It's rather exciting, you know,
these beaux, and love-letters, and talking sentiment, going to the
opera, and taking rides on horseback, and all that. But, when men get to
talking about their fathers, and their sisters, and to act as if they
were sure of me, I'm just like Sylfine--I want to be off. You know,
Harry, I think it's a very serious thing, this being married. It's
dreadful! I don't want to be a woman grown. I wish _I_ could always be a
girl, and live just as I have lived, and have plenty more girls come and
see me, and have fun. I haven't been a bit happy lately, not a bit; and
I never was unhappy before in my life."
"Well, why don't you write to Mr. Clayton, and break it all off, if you
feel so about it?"
"Well, why don't I? I don't know. I've had a great mind to do it; but
I'm afraid I should feel worse than I do now. He's coming just like a
great dark shadow over my life, and everything is beginning to feel so
real to me! I don't want to take up life in earnest. I read a story,
once, about Undine; and, do you know, Harry, I think I feel just as
Undine did, when she felt her soul coming in her?"
"And is Clayton Knight Heldebound?" said Harry, smiling.
"I don't know. What if he should be? Now, Harry, you see the fact is
that sensible men get their heads turned by such kind of girls as I am;
and they pet us, and humor us. But, then, I'm afraid they're thinking,
all the while, that their turn to rule is coming, by and by. They marry
us because they think they are going to make us over; and what I'm
afraid of is, I never _can_ be made over. Don't think I was cut out
right in the first place; and there never will be much more of me than
there is now. And he'll be comparing me with his pattern sister; and I
shan't be any the more amiable for that. Now, his sister is what folks
call highly-educated, you know, Harry. She understands all about
literature, and everything. As for me, I've just cultivation enough to
appreciate a fine horse--that's the extent. And yet I'm proud. I
wouldn't wish to stand second, in his opinion, even to his sister. So,
there it is. That's the way with us girls! We are always wanting what we
know we ought not to have, and are not willing to take the trouble to
get."
"Miss Nina, if you'll let me speak my mind out frankly, now, I want to
offer one piece of advice. Just be perfectly true and open with Mr.
Clayton; and if he and Mr. Carson should come together, just tell him
frankly how the matter stands. You are a Gordon, and they say truth
always runs in the Gordon blood; and now, Miss Nina, you are no longer a
school-girl, but a young lady at the head of the estate."
He stopped, and hesitated.
"Well, Harry, you needn't stop. I understand you--got a few grains of
sense left, I hope, and haven't got so many friends that I can afford to
get angry with you for nothing."
"I suppose," said Harry, thoughtfully, "that your aunt will be well
enough to be down to the table. Have you told her how matters stand?"
"Who? Aunt Loo? Catch me telling her anything! No, Harry, I've got to
stand all alone. I haven't any mother, and I haven't any sister; and
Aunt Loo is worse than nobody, because it's provoking to have somebody
round that you feel might take an interest, and ought to, and don't care
a red cent for you. Well, I declare, if I'm not much,--if I'm not such
a model as Miss Clayton, there,--how could any one expect it, when I
have just come up by myself, first at the plantation, here, and then at
that French boarding-school? I tell you what, Harry, boarding-schools
are not what they're cried up to be. It's good fun, no doubt, but we
never learnt anything there. That is to say, we never learnt it
internally, but had it just rubbed on to us outside. A girl can't help,
of course, learning something; and I've learnt just what I happened to
like and couldn't help, and a deal that isn't of the most edifying
nature besides."
Well! we shall see what will come!