LITTLE KATY'S LOVER.
Katy was fifteen and a half, according to the family Bible. Katy was a
woman grown in the depth and tenderness of her feeling. But Katy wasn't
twelve years of age, if measured by the development of her
discretionary powers. The phenomenon of a girl in intellect with a
woman's passion is not an uncommon one. Such girls are always
attractive--feeling in woman goes for so much more than thought. And
such a girl-woman as Kate has a twofold hold on other people--she is
loved as a woman and petted as a child.
Albert Charlton knew that for her to love was for her to give herself
away without thought, without reserve, almost without the possibility of
revocation. Because he was so oppressed with dread in regard to the young
man who walked and boated with Katy, courted and caressed her, but about
the seriousness of whose intentions the mother seemed to have some
doubt--because of the very awfulness of his apprehensions, he dared not
ask Kate anything.
The suspense was not for long. On the second evening after Albert's
return, Smith Westcott, the chief clerk, the agent in charge of the
branch store of Jackson, Jones & Co., in Metropolisville, called at the
house of Plausaby. Mr. Smith Westcott was apparently more than
twenty-six, but not more than thirty years of age, very well-dressed,
rather fast-looking, and decidedly _blasé_. His history was written in
general but not-to-be-misunderstood terms all over his face. It was not
the face of a drunkard, but there was the redness of many glasses of wine
in his complexion, and a nose that expressed nothing so much as pampered
self-indulgence. He had the reputation of being a good, sharp business
man, with his "eye-teeth cut," but his conversation was:
"Well--ha! ha!--and how's Katy? Divine as ever! he! he!" rattling the
keys and coins in his pocket and frisking about. "Beautiful evening! And
how does my sweet Katy? The loveliest maiden in the town! He! he! ha! ha!
I declare!"
Then, as Albert came in and was introduced, he broke out with:
"Glad to see you! By George! He! he! Brother, eh? Always glad to see
anybody related to Kate. Look like her a little. That's a compliment to
you, Mr. Charlton, he! he! You aren't quite so handsome though, by
George! Confound the cigar"--throwing it away; "I ordered a box in Red
Owl last week--generally get 'em in Chicago. If there's anything I like
it's a good cigar, he! he! Next to a purty girl, ha! ha! But this last
box is stronger'n pison. That sort of a cigar floors me. Can't go
entirely without, you know, so I smoke half a one, and by that time I get
so confounded mad I throw it away. Ha! ha! Smoke, Mr. Charlton? No! No
_small_ vices, I s'pose. Couldn't live without my cigar. I'm glad smoking
isn't offensive to Kate. Ah! this window's nice, I do like fresh air.
Kate knows my habits pretty well by this time. By George, I must try
another cigar. I get so nervous when trade's dull and I don't have much
to do. Wish you smoked, Mr. Charlton. Keep a man company, ha! ha! Ever
been here before? No? By George, must seem strange, he! he! It's a
confounded country. Can't get anything to eat. Nor to drink neither, for
that matter. By cracky! what nights we used to have at the Elysian Club
in New York! Ever go to the Elysian? No? Well, we did have a confounded
time there. And headaches in the morning. Punch was too sweet, you see.
Sweet punch is sure to make your headache. He! he! But I'm done with
clubs and Delmonico's, you know. I'm going to settle down and be a steady
family man." Walking to the door, he sang in capital minstrel style:
"When de preacher took his text
He looked so berry much perplext,
Fer nothin' come acrost his mine
But Dandy Jim from Caroline!
"Yah! yah! Plague take it! Come, Kate, stick on a sun-bonnet or a hat,
and let's walk. It's too nice a night to stay in the house, by George!
You'll excuse, Mr. Charlton? All right; come on, Kate."
And Katy hesitated, and said in a deprecating tone: "You won't mind, will
you, Brother Albert?"
And Albert said no, that he wouldn't mind, with a calmness that
astonished himself; for he was aching to fall foul of Katy's lover, and
beat the coxcombry out of him, or kill him.
"By-by!" said Westcott to Albert, as he went out, and young Charlton went
out another door, and strode off toward Diamond Lake. On the high knoll
overlooking the lake he stopped and looked away to the east, where the
darkness was slowly gathering over the prairie. Night never looks so
strange as when it creeps over a prairie, seeming to rise, like a
shadowy Old Man of the Sea, out of the grass. The images become more and
more confused, and the landscape vanishes by degrees. Away to the west
Charlton saw the groves that grew on the banks of the Big Gun River, and
then the smooth prairie knolls beyond, and in the dim horizon the "Big
Woods." Despite ail his anxiety, Charlton could not help feeling the
influence of such a landscape. The greatness, the majesty of God, came to
him for a moment. Then the thought of Kate's unhappy love came over him
more bitterly from the contrast with the feelings excited by the
landscape. He went rapidly over the possible remedies. To remonstrate
with Katy seemed out of the question. If she had any power of reason, he
might argue. Bat one can not reason with feeling. It was so hard that a
soul so sweet, so free from the all but universal human taint of egoism,
a soul so loving, self-sacrificing, and self-consecrating, should throw
itself away.
"O God!" he cried, between praying and swearing, "must this alabaster-box
of precious ointment be broken upon the head of an infernal coxcomb?"
And then, as he remembered how many alabaster-boxes of precious womanly
love were thus wasted, and as he looked abroad at the night settling down
so inevitably on trees and grass and placid lake, it seemed to him that
there could be no Benevolent Intelligence in the universe. Things rolled
on as they would, and all his praying would no more drive away the
threatened darkness from Kate's life than any cry of his would avail to
drive back the all-pervading, awesome presence of night, which was
putting out the features of the landscape one after another.
Albert thought to go to his mother. But then with bitterness he
confessed to himself, for the first time, that his mother was less wise
than Katy herself. He almost called her a fool. And he at once rejected
the thought of appealing to his step-father. He felt, also, that this was
an emergency in which all his own knowledge and intelligence were of no
account. In a matter of affection, a conceited coxcomb, full of
flattering speeches, was too strong for him.
The landscape was almost swallowed up. The glassy little lake was at his
feet, smooth and quiet. It seemed to him that God was as unresponsive to
his distress as the lake. Was there any God?
There was one hope. Westcott might die. He wished he might. But Charlton
had lived long enough to observe that people who ought to die, hardly
ever do. You, reader, can recall many instances of this general
principle, which, however, I do not remember to have seen stated in any
discussions of mortality tables.
After all, Albert reflected that he ought not to expect Kate's lover to
satisfy him. For he flattered himself that he was a somewhat peculiar
man--a man of ideas, a man of the future--and he must not expect to
conform everybody to his own standard. Smith Westcott was a man of fine
business qualities, he had heard; and most commercial men were, in
Albert's estimation, a little weak, morally. He might be a man of deep
feeling, and, as Albert walked home, he made up his mind to be
charitable. But just then he heard that rattling voice:
"Purty night! By George! Katy, you're divine, by George! Sweeter'n honey
and a fine-tooth comb! Dearer to my heart than a gold dollar! Beautiful
as a dew-drop and better than a good cigar! He! he! he!"
At such wit and such a giggle Charlton's charity vanished. To him this
idiotic giggle at idiotic jokes was a capital offense, and he was seized
with a murderous desire to choke his sister's lover. Kate should not
marry that fellow if he could help it. He would kill him. But then to
kill Westcott would be to kill Katy, to say nothing of hanging himself.
Killing has so many sequels. But Charlton was at the fiercely executive
stage of his development, and such a man must act. And so he lingered
about until Westcott kissed Katy and Katy kissed Westcott back again, and
Westcott cried back from the gate, "Dood night! dood night, 'ittle girl!
By-by! He! he! By George!" and passed out rattling the keys and coins in
his pocket and singing:
"O dear Miss Lucy Neal!" etc.
Then Albert went in, determined to have it all out with Katy. But one
sight of her happy, helpless face disarmed him. What an overturning of
the heaven of her dreams would he produce by a word! And what could be
more useless than remonstrance with one so infatuated! How would she
receive his bitter words about one she loved to idolatry?
He kissed her and went to bed.
As Albert Charlton lay awake in his unplastered room in the house of
Plausaby, Esq., on the night after he had made the acquaintance of the
dear, dear fellow whom his sister loved, he busied himself with various
calculations. Notwithstanding his father's "notions," as his mother
styled them, he had been able to leave his widow ten thousand dollars,
besides a fund for the education of his children. And, as Albert phrased
it to himself that night, the ten thousand dollars was every cent clean
money, for his father had been a man of integrity. On this ten thousand,
he felt sure, Plausaby, Esq., was speculating in a way that might make
him rich and respected, or send him to State's-prison, as the chance fell
out, but at any rate in a way that was not promotive of the interests of
those who traded with him. Of the thousand set apart for Katy's education
Plausaby was guardian, and Kate's education was not likely to be greatly
advanced by any efforts of his to invest the money in her intellectual
development. It would not be hard to persuade the rather indolent and
altogether confiding Katy that she was now old enough to cease bothering
herself with the rules of syntax, and to devote herself to the happiness
and comfort of Smith Westcott, who seemed, poor fellow, entirely unable
to exist out of sight of her eyes, which he often complimented by
singing, as he cut a double-shuffle on the piazza,
"_Her eyes_ so bright
Dey shine at night
When de moon am far away!"
generally adding, "Ya! ya! dat am a fack, Brudder Bones! He! he!
By George!"
As Charlton's thoughts forecast his sister's future, it seemed to him
darker than before. He had little hope of changing her, for it was clear
that all the household authority was against him, and that Katy was
hopelessly in love. If he should succeed in breaking the engagement, it
would cost her untold suffering, and Albert was tender-hearted enough to
shrink from inflicting suffering on any one, and especially on Kate. But
when that heartless "he! he!" returned to his memory, and he thought of
all the consequences of such a marriage, he nerved himself for a sharp
and strong interference. It was his habit to plunge into every conflict
with a radical's recklessness, and his present impulse was to attempt to
carry his point by storm. If there had been opportunity, he would have
moved on Katy's slender reasoning faculties at once. But as the night of
sleeplessness wore on, the substratum of practical sense in his
character made itself felt. To attack the difficulty in this way was to
insure a great many tears from Katy, a great quarrel with a coxcomb, a
difficulty with his mother, an interference in favor of Kate's marriage
on the part of Plausaby, and a general success in precipitating what he
desired to prevent.
And so for the first time this opinionated young man, who had always
taken responsibility, and fought his battles alone and by the most direct
methods, began to look round for a possible ally or an indirect approach.
He went over the ground several times without finding any one on whom he
could depend, or any device that offered the remotest chance of success,
until he happened to think of Isabel Marlay--Cousin Isa, as Katy called
her. He remembered how much surprised he had been a few days before, when
the quiet girl, whom he had thought a sort of animated sewing-machine,
suddenly developed so much force of thought in her defense of the clergy.
Why not get her strong sense on his side?