From the quiet, peaceful routine of a convent life I was whirled into
the maddest and wildest confusion, at least such did it seem to me
then, when I was unsophisticated, and ignorant of the ways in which
fashionable womanhood develops itself.
My step-mother went through my wardrobe making incredible additions
and alterations, informing me as she did so that I would be the
cynosure of many searching eyes when I appeared in the drawing-rooms
which she frequented. I also received many graceful hints as to what
was expected of me in conversation and demeanour, and I did not need
any assistance whatever to realize that I was a sort of speculation,
that I would carry an insinuation of my father's wealth and my
mother's position about with me wherever I went. I was not given to
understand or to fear that my own intrinsic worth would likely be the
object of any serious consideration. My step-mother encouraged me by
saying that "Alice Merivale was out before me and was quite a success,
and all I had to do was to renew my early friendship with her" or in
other words to play the parasite as prettily as I knew how. About
this, however, I had made up my mind before I appeared in the busy
arena of fashionable society. Twice a week now I put on some of my
expensive new toilets and went with my step-mother in our handsome
conveyance to make calls. I was presented to every one of any note,
and drank tea in the best drawing-rooms the Capital could boast of. So
far my step-mother looked happy. I had not been awkward at
introductions, nor dull in conversations. I had even made some very
pithy remarks where they could do me most service, and knew the name
of a historic personage to whom Lady Pendleton alluded vaguely,
forgetting his title. I was invaded in my turn on our reception day by
all the wealth and beauty of the capital. Great, pompous dames in
heavy mantles and rustling robes sat themselves down in imposing
condescension beside me to discuss the last dinner party at Government
House, or recite a series of domestic woes brought on by that
refractory necessity--the cook. Simpering young ladies, and simpering
ladies that were no longer young, greeted me with a pretty,
patronizing courtesy, and smiled upon my remarks as sweetly as we
grown people do at the crude observances of a prattling child.
There was a time I must admit when I was only a child in the eyes of
some of these maidens. When I was ten and they were twenty how far
apart we stood in sympathies and tastes? But it is astonishing how
rapidly youth overtakes maturity. Although the inevitable disparity of
years can never be altered or overcome, the material differences which
necessarily accrue from it are easily mastered.
So far, the course of my new life ran smoothly and calmly on, but an
impediment was looming up in the near distance. Mrs. Hartmann's cards
were out for her annual brilliant "At Home." Every one was whispering
about and speculating in a hopeful way, as people do when a grand
social event of this nature is on the _tapis_. My step-mother spent
the whole of the day before among her fragments of small finery,
re-arranging tumbled laces and trimmings, and sorting her handsome
jewels. I gave my afternoon leisure to Hortense, writing her a most
minute and graphic account of my initiation into fashionable life, my
progress and its probable result.
When the eventful night came and the gas was lighted all was hurry and
flurry and confusion in our home. My step-mother and I repaired to our
rooms in quiet walking costumes which we had worn in the afternoon,
and an hour or so later we emerged in the fullest ball-toilet. I was
ready first, and gathering up my expensive train of satin and oriental
lace, I glided across the hall and tapped at my step-mother's bedroom.
In answer to a faint "come in," I admitted myself just in time to see
the faithful Janet bestowing her attention upon the bare, plump
shoulders of her mistress, who stood before her cheval glass in silent
self-contemplation.
She had only to fasten a necklet of diamonds at her throat, to gather
up her gloves and lace hand-kerchief and allow Janet to wrap her up in
her downy opera cloak, and she was ready. As she turned from the glass
her gaze fell fully upon me. I could see that she was not
disappointed, but her generous admiration in no way interfered with
the consciousness which filled her of her own superior dignity and
grace. She may have envied me my youth, for she was loth to grow old
among these gay distractions, however, she only said "you'll do nicely
Amelia" and we left the room.
We went down to the dimly-lit drawing-room where a cheerful fire
burned in the polished grate, and my stepmother rang for tea. The
little French parlor maid appeared a moment later and laid the tiny
table beside us. Two steaming cups stood invitingly on the tray, but
before taking hers my step-mother suddenly remembered she had left her
jewel case unlocked, and she hurried out of the room in a state of
anxious excitement. I turned my back to the fire and in utter
abstraction riveted my gaze upon the butterfly handles of the teacups.
I was thinking. Such circumstances as these always brought back my
simple yesterdays with a renewed force to my memory. I was thinking so
profoundly that I neither heard nor saw my father, who had appeared in
the doorway and was standing on the sheep-skin rug looking strangely
at me.
I must have felt the power of his steady gaze, for suddenly and almost
involuntarily, I raised my eyes and beheld him leaning against the
polished casement, the heavy red curtain over the entrance hanging
loosely and gracefully behind him, making an effective background for
his white hair and pensive face.
Seeing my reverie broken, he strode noiselessly across the room and
stood beside me at the fire. The thought crossed my mind that there
was something unusual in his manner and expression to-night. He passed
his hand wearily over his brow and eyes, and as if in helpless
obedience to some uncontrollable impulse he leaned forward and touched
his firm dry lips to my cheek.
I started, and why should'nt I? It was the first time my father had
ever kissed me, at least so long as I could remember. I felt a deep
blush creeping up to my very ears; in fact I was stupidly agitated,
and he saw it. With a tenderness such as his voice had not known for
many a year he said:
"Amey, you are a living, breathing vision of my happy past, to-night.
I never saw such a likeness before." His words sank into a whisper as
my step-mother's footfall sounded on the stairs outside. He heard it,
and turning away left the room abruptly. I drank my cup of tea and
prepared to leave as one moving about in a dream. This was one of the
strangest experiences I had ever had; some secret spring seemed to
have been magically touched within me, and all the pent-up love and
devotion of a life-time now flowed freely through my veins. I was
attracted most powerfully towards the cold, distant man whom I had
dreaded all along, and whom I could have hated ardently had it not
been a sin against nature.
His words, though vague, had a clear and holy meaning for me. He must
then have loved my dear dead mother, I thought fondly, when twenty
years of separation have not effaced her memory from his heart and
mind.
I was busy with these reflections as we drove through the streets of
the city towards the Hartmann's residence, and I alighted at their
door with my eyes full of unshed tears. How strangely at odds we can
be with the circumstances of our daily lives.
Very soon, however, I was obliged to dispel all such personal and
intimate ruminations. I was no longer my own property to dispose of as
I willed. I was standing in the doorway of the spacious ball-room with
a circle of new-made gentlemen acquaintances around me; my father and
his wife stood a short distance from me and watched the proceedings
without looking at them.
"May I have the fifth Miss Hampden," the very good-looking Mr.
Haliburton was asking with a smile.
"What is the dance?" I interrupted as he was about to scribble his
initials.
"A polka," he replied with sweet urbanity. I shook my head negatively
and tried to look pleasantly sorry. He raised his perfect dark
eye-brows in thorough astonishment and put in an exclamatory "Why?"
"No fast dances," I said in a seriously playful tone, "I will give you
the sixth, it is a lancers."
"Oh, this is too bad," he argued earnestly, "however," he continued
with his peculiar, winning smile, "I am thankful for any." He wrote
his name very badly on my programme, and mine on his, then with a most
graceful bow made way for a new petitioner.
I had nearly the same little dialogue with each hero that addressed
me, and as there were but four slow dances on the programme for the
evening, I was soon in a trying dilemma. Amiable and courteous as
these fashionable lions were acknowledged to be, they could not get
themselves to sacrifice the pleasure, great or small, which they found
in a waltz or polka, to sit the dance out quietly with a girl of
scruples and principles.
I had to be satisfied, therefore, with the conviction that I was
doomed to spend the greater part of the evening alone; and what was
more consoling still, this being my first appearance at a ball, I was
sure to be closely watched by many a fair rival. Already the music for
the opening dance was sounding. I was engaged for this one, and had
for my vis-a-vis my step-mother and an imposing gentleman in heavy
regimentals. My partner was an ordinary man of the period, of medium
height, with common-place moustache and neatly trimmed side-whiskers,
who made several differently worded remarks of the same meaning upon
the same subject.
I was disposed not to enjoy this evening for many reasons, and I was
conscious of going through the figures of the dance automatically and
tastelessly. I came back after each lady's chain to my tiresome
partner, wishing earnestly that it would soon be over. My step-mother
detected my listless manner, and came to me later, when the dance was
ended and I had been left by the amiable Mr. Fawcett standing before a
picture of Siddons which I was ostensibly admiring with enthusiasm.
There was a becoming smile on the lace of my step-mother, as there
always was in fashionable company, but there was no sweetness in the
anger which was interpreted by the quick, impatient words that flashed
from behind the glittering plumes of her splendid fan into my ear:
"Don't make an idiot of yourself," she said, hoarsely, coming up to
me, and standing in a well-studied attitude before the picture I was
looking at. "It is unpardonable vulgar and rude of you to take
exception to any dances on the programme, as if Mrs. Hartmann would
allow any impropriety where her own daughters are concerned." She went
on fanning herself briskly, showing nothing of her indignation in her
face.
Without raising my eyes I answered quietly: "Do not excite yourself
for nothing, you may be sure I shall not disgrace you, but I am
determined not to get into the arms of any of these men to-night."
She moved away while I was speaking and I saw no more of her until we
were preparing to leave. During the dances that intervened between the
quadrille and the lancers, that I had given to Mr. Haliburton, I had
amused myself as best I could, talking to some prosy relatives of the
family who stood around the walls, and turning over the leaves of an
artistic scrap-book that lay upon the broad window-sill at one end of
the room.
I was grateful when Mr. Haliburton came and took me away into the
crowd. I was beginning to feel tired of the situation and to wish I
were safely at home.
The second dance, however, was livelier than the first. My partner was
a vivacious flirt who made every one feel merry for a while, and I
began to enjoy it after we had gone through the first figure. We were
slower than the dancers next to us, who had finished and were waiting
for us, to change the music. I was advancing to my vis-a-vis, looking
around the room at the same time, when my eyes suddenly fell. I saw
someone in the distance watching my movements, someone who had
evidently just come in. He was not a young man, and yet he was hardly
old. I had not time to take further notice of his appearance, for the
music ceased and we began the last frolicsome figure of our dance. As
I passed into the conservatory later on Mr. Haliburton's arm I stole a
glance towards the end of the room where this "somebody" had been
standing, but he was gone. I need not have felt concerned and yet I
did. More than that, I was disappointed, and it was with an unfeigned
weariness and impatience that I threw myself into the low, basket
rocking-chair under a canopy covered with ivy to which Mr. Haliburton
conducted me.
I was glad to see him go from me, though it was but for a moment; I
would have time to reason with myself before he came back with the
ices.
When I found myself alone, I no longer checked the heavy sigh that had
lain heavy in my breast all night. I leaned my head back against the
vine-clad pillar behind me and almost sobbed. I was feeling miserable.
A footfall somewhere made me spring into an erect, sitting posture
again. I took an ivy leaf between my fingers and toyed nervously with
it I waited for a confirmation of my worst fears, that my step-mother
had followed me and heard me sigh, but there was no one. When all was
quiet again I ventured to look carefully around. The secret was out,
on a rustic bench at the other side of my graceful canopy "somebody"
was sitting alone. His profile met my full view, his pensive half-sad
profile. I looked at it for a moment and, springing up, I moved aside
my rocking chair and rushed towards him.
"Mr. Dalton!" I cried out impulsively, and then stopped suddenly
short--what if it were not he at all?
He turned and caught me in my attitude of suppressed excitement, the
bench was between us. He held out both hands over its curved back
saying:
"Amey, is it you?"
There was a strange look as of a misty uncertain pleasure in his eyes.
I gave him my small hands, for they were small when he had gathered
them into his, and we looked at one another in silence for a few
moments.
"Come here and sit down beside me little one," he said in his old
affectionate way. "How you have grown!" he exclaimed, moving one end
of the rustic seat to let me pass. I had forgotten all about Mr.
Haliburton or any one else but Mr. Dalton; the glad surprise of seeing
him absorbed every other consideration.
"Yes, but not changed, am I?" I put in, eagerly, sitting down beside
him and looking earnestly into his gravely glad face.
"Yes, you are very much changed Amey," he said in a serious yet tender
voice, "but," he continued slowly, "I should recognize you all the
better for the change." His words were meaningless to me, but then
they had always been so when we were friends long ago. "You are
changed too Mr. Dalton," I retorted reciprocatingly. "At first I did
not know you at all, and it was only by rude staring that I managed to
remember you. Where have you been all this time, that I have never
seen you?" I asked.
"Rambling all over the world," he answered dreamily. "And so you
missed me, did you?" he added, changing his tone to one of playful
enquiry. "Well, Amey, so have I missed you, at least I have often
thought of you in my travels and wondered how you were getting on. I
need not tell you," he continued teasingly, "how often I have been
haunted by the dreadful threat you made when I saw you last about--"
"Now, don't say any more," I interrupted, "I remember all that well
enough. We are all a little silly sometime in our lives," I alleged in
self defence.
"Poor Amey!" he said almost in a whisper, "you do not know how prone
human nature is to folly--yet, when you are as old as I, you will have
learned something of it."
"You speak as if you were very ancient," I exclaimed, making little of
his serious talk.
"Well," he broke in slowly, "I can't be very young now, when I had
Amey Hampden on my knee some fifteen years ago, but do not tell that
of me, like a good child," he added in playful eagerness "for, being a
bachelor yet, you see, it might harm me."
"Do you mean that it would excite formidable jealousies?" I asked
rising, and laughing carelessly, and then, half sorry for having
uttered these words I diverted his attention from them by announcing
my wish to go inside.
He arose, and accompanied me, with as much active gallantry as if he
had been twenty-five years younger. Leaning on his strong, stalwart
arm, I passed into the crowded and confused ball-room feeling
peculiarly revived, and strangely happier than when I had left it a
short half-hour before. But I could not get rid of a suspicion that
was forcing itself into my mind with regard to Mr. Dalton. There was
certainly some restraint over him, and the look in his clear, soft
blue eyes was not so steady as it used to be. And yet, what could I
expect from him more than he had given me? I did not know, but it
seemed that after our long, long separation, he ought not to be so
quiet and silent. It is true that our place of meeting was a rather
unpropitious one, but this did not satisfy me. He was not quite the
Mr. Dalton that I remembered, that, as a child I had loved, and still
I felt proudly happy to lean on his powerful arm and exchange
occasional glances and remarks with him.
We walked through the ball-room where amusement was now at its zenith,
and when we had reached the upper end Mr. Dalton paused and looked at
the gay scene before us. He had seemingly forgotten me, while his
thoughts were busy with their own weaving. We had only been there a
moment when my father advanced towards me accompanied by another
gentleman.
"Amey," he began before he had quite reached me, "have you forgotten
our friend Dr. Campbell."
I was sensibly confused as I withdrew my hand from Mr. Dalton's arm to
give it to Dr. Campbell. I bowed and smiled as at our first
introduction in the library at home, and I fear I was guilty even of
blushing, too.
Mr. Dalton, seeing my attention diverted, bowed himself gracefully
away. My father had vanished before him, and thus was I left
completely at the mercy of a trying circumstance.
Dr. Campbell broke the awkward silence happily, saying:
"It cannot be for want of an introduction, Miss Hampden, that you and
I are not friends."
"No indeed," I answered stupidly, not knowing very well what to say.
"Are you dancing this evening," he next asked, in a most composed tone
which made me envy him.
"Very little," said I. "I am exclusive on that subject."
"Which means that you will not honour me," he interrupted blandly,
looking questioningly into my face.
"Oh, no!" I exclaimed seeing how misinterpreted my words were. "I mean
with regard to the dances, not the people. I do not like fast dances."
"Neither do I particularly," he answered, offering me his arm, "except
when I sit them out. May I?" he asked in such a graceful deferential
way that I know I smiled approvingly as I slipped my hand within his
arm and went with him into the little ante-room opposite, where coals
glowed in the open fire-place and a soft rose-coloured light fell over
all the delicate splendor of the furnishings.
There were two heavy plush arm-chairs already drawn up to the fender,
and Dr. Campbell moving one gently towards me, smilingly remarked that
"we were evidently expected."
I took one and he sank into the other with a gesture of pronounced
ease. The light from the fire was full upon his face and form, and
feeling secure in the shadow of a fancy screen that had been shoved
beside my chair, I set myself earnestly to work to analyse this
wonderful man.
He was passively handsome, with a large brow and very large,
expressive eyes. They were blue, too, but not like Mr. Dalton's. They
were dreamier and more attractive. His face was quite bronzed, and his
fine mouth was admirably set off by well-curved brown moustaches. His
chin was bare but for one little bit under the lower lip. He was
caressing this seeming favorite with one white, slender hand, almost
fine enough for a lady's, while I observed him with keen scrutiny. He
was an English Canadian, I learned that before I ever saw him, born
and bred under Canadian skies, but this implies little of his bias or
disposition.
Canada has not yet shaken off the fetters of her great grandparents
sufficiently to bring out in a clear, marked way her own
individuality. Her native sons and daughters inherit too faithfully
the English, Irish, Scotch or French tenor of the characters of their
predecessors to be able to grant to our ambitious country the national
peculiarities and idiosyncracies which she covets, in order to assert
herself freely, as the mother of a people who bear her resemblance
stamped upon their mental and moral features. When a country has
succeeded in fixing a seal upon the brow of every son that is born to
her, she has secured the right of being paralleled, at least in one
respect, with the greatest nations of the world. In time, Canada will
accomplish this, for Canadians should be wonderful people. It baffles
her to-day, because it is a question of time, and in her incapacity to
influence time, Canada is only equal to Caesar's Rome, or Victoria's
Great Britain.
There was a look of keen intelligence in Dr Campbell's countenance
that pleased me particularly, something so refreshing to see, after
all the vapid expressions of uneducated men. I could easily understand
now, how he gained that _prestige_ which made conquests for him
wherever he went. Truly, I did not believe him a very widely informed
man, but he was a man of fixed principles and a man of ambition.
Moreover he had a wonderful _savoir-faire_ that carried him through
all sorts of adventitious circumstances gracefully. It is a clear
counterfeit of genuine acumen, and, with a world that knows no better,
gets just as much favor and praise.
During the fifteen minutes that we passed together in Mrs. Hartmann's
cosy morning-room, with our feet on her polished brass fender, we
learned much of one another's hidden selves, that people who had known
us both for years had failed to gather.
I went to supper on Dr. Campbell's arm and gave him a rose from my
bouquet. He saw us to our carriage when we were leaving, and promised
to call on the following Tuesday.
This is a lengthy and tedious summary of my first and last ball.
For I never went to another. What was the use? I was essentially out
of place with my principles about dancing. My step-mother stormed and
raged after the Hartmann's At Home, declaring that I had disgraced
myself and her; that such guests as I, were a burden to a hostess and
an infliction on the rest of the company. All this, along with my own
private conclusions, went far towards helping me to make up my mind,
once for all, that I had gone to my last "dance." And to be candid I
must admit that it was no effort whatever for me to abstain from these
would-be pleasures. They were literally not worth the fuss and trouble
and expense of getting to them. But I went to other gatherings which
were infinitely more enjoyable. I had many another _tete-a-tete_ with
Arthur Campbell before the winter was out. The last attraction before
Parliament closed was a "Musical" at the Merivales.