THE LADY FROM THE MINES HAS A PLAN
New Year's morning dawned clear and cold.
The family of Mondreer, on account of the party at Oldfield on the
previous evening, and the long sleigh ride home "in the wee, sma' hours"
before the dawn, slept later than usual that day, so that it was nine
o'clock before they were all gathered around the breakfast table, to renew
their New Year's greetings over the first morning meal of the year.
The pleasant party of the previous evening was discussed, and then the
program of the passing day.
The holiday was to be kept very unostentatiously.
It had been the annual custom of many years for Mr. and Mrs. Force to
entertain the Rev. Dr. and Mrs. Peters to dinner at Mondreer on New Year's
Day. The custom had not been neglected on the present occasion, and the
rector of All Faith and his wife were expected to come. Young Dr. Ingle,
in consideration of his betrothal to Natalie Meeke, had been invited to
meet the Peters.
These were the only arrangements for keeping New Year's Day at Mondreer.
As there was no church service on that day, the party from the rectory
arrived early in the forenoon, for the people of the neighborhood, even on
festive occasions, kept the healthful, old-fashioned hours, and dined soon
after noon. The rector and his wife were a fine old couple, without
children at home, and very much devoted to each other.
Mrs. Anglesea, efflorescent in a cardinal-red damasse silk, and heavy gold
jewelry, seized upon the clerical pair instantly as her own especial prey,
because they were new acquaintances, who had not heard the story of her
marriage, her robbery and her desertion by her husband, from her own
lips.
Mrs. Anglesea took so much pleasure in telling her tale that Wynnette, in
her pungent way, said that the lady from the Wild Cats' Gulch was a
reincarnation of the spirit of the Ancient Mariner, with the variation
that to her every new acquaintance was a "wedding guest," to whom she was
bound to tell her story. And that for all the sufferings the injured wife
had endured she found full compensation in the narration of her great
wrongs, and in the abuse of the enormous villainy of her husband.
And facts really bore out Wynnette's theory.
"Now! What do you think of Angus Anglesea for a gentleman and an officer?"
demanded Mrs. Anglesea of the rector and his wife, when she had finished
her relation.
"We must not judge. We must forgive," said the mild minister.
"'Forgive!'" echoed the lady from the mines. "'Forgive!' I like that; but
you are a man, parson, and of course you will take sides with a man, and
want me to 'forgive' him. Set him up with it, and you, too! But I'll put
it to your ole 'oman here," she added, turning to the rector's wife. "Now
see here, ma'am. Take it home, and put yourself in my place. Suppose now
that your ole man, the parson there, had a-gone, and a-married of you, and
then a-gone and robbed of you of all your money, and levanted off
some'er's and married some other 'oman. Could you have 'forgive' him? I
put it to yourself now. Answer me."
But the mere hypothesis that the venerable and reverend Dr. Peters could
ever by any possibility have been guilty of such misdemeanors was so
overwhelming, not to say paralyzing, that the minister's wife could only
drop her jaw, open her mouth, and stare.
"I'll forgive that devil after he is well hanged, and not a half a second
before. 'Cause it wouldn't be safe, nohow."
The entrance of young Dr. Ingle put an end to the subject. He had heard
the story of the lady's wrongs so often that he did not need to hear any
part of it repeated.
Mrs. Force, her three daughters, and Miss Meeke, soon filed in, and the
conversation became general.
Mr. Force and Leonidas entered soon after, and only in time for dinner.
The afternoon was passed in chess, music and conversation, and after an
early tea Dr. and Mrs. Peters bade good-by to their entertainers and
started for their home.
Dr. Ingle lingered longer--in fact, until after ten o'clock, the usual
bedtime at Mondreer, and then at length he said good-night and went away.
But the family of Mondreer did not immediately retire on the departure of
their last guest.
Was not this the first of January? And was not their dear Leonidas to
leave them on the second?
They could not bid him good-night so soon. They lingered in the drawing
room long after the departure of their last guest.
Mrs. Anglesea, who had by her fine animal instincts scented out the state
of affairs in the family which entertained her, watched Leonidas and
Odalite with lynx eyes.
"Them young uns is sweethearts," she said, in an aside to Miss Meeke, as
she pointed to the youthful pair, who, seated on the cushioned sill of the
bay window, were exchanging their last confidences. "Them young uns is
sweethearts, as sure as you're born. And why she didn't choose him,
instead of choosing my beat, beats me. But perhaps the match was made up
all along of the old folks. Shouldn't wonder. Not I! But if they are fond
o' one another, why, in the name o' sense, can't the knot be tied afore he
goes to sea? They'd be a heaper better contented in parting from one
another if they knowed that they belonged to each other, certain sure, no
matter what might happen."
"Yes," replied Miss Meeke. "I think that they are lovers still. And I know
that they were engaged to be married before he went to sea the first time,
and they would have been married on his return from his first voyage if
Col. Anglesea had not come between them. I betray no confidence in telling
you this, for the whole county knows it well."
"To be sure they do. Why, didn't I hear all about it before ever I entered
into this house? You just bet I did. But why she ever could have thrown
over that fine young fellow for my old rascal is more than I can tell."
"I suppose he fascinated her in some way," suggested Natalie.
"You bet your pile on that. Lord! how that man could make love when he
tried! Why, there was poor John, my first husband, poor, dear
fellow!--that ever I should have forgot him so far as to take up with this
furriner!--poor John, after keeping company with me for more'n a year, and
never saying a word to me about love, or his heart, or anything, though we
knew how it was with each other well enough, one summer Sunday night, when
the moon was a-shining bright as day, he kind o' loitered at the gate, and
sort o' kicked the gravel slowlike with his foot, and then said:
"'Well, Marier, when hed I better speak to the ole man?'
"And I said: 'Fust time you see him, John.' And that was all. Every word
of love-making that passed betwixt us two until we was married."
"He was a plain, good, honest man," put in Miss Meeke.
"You bet your pile on that! And you won't lose nothing by it! He was a
good, true man, and so I found him, else I shouldn't a-followed of him all
round the world, and out to Wild Cats' Gulch! But as for this other
fellow! Lord! Why, from the minute he made up his mind to marry and rob
me, he did nothing but make love! Lord, how he could do it! Like a
play-actor! Why, honey, one time he fell on his knees before me and looked
up in my face in such a way! And what on earth can an ordinary 'oman do
when a man goes down on his marrow bones and rolls up his eyes like a
dying duck? She has to sort o' give in to him whether she wants to or not!
for fear he'd get worse, and have a fit, and do hisself a mischief of some
sort! And all the time, dear, it wasn't the poor Californy widow he was
after; but her poor, dear, dead-and-gone husband's pile, as he had made by
the sweat of his brow, and lost his life in making, too! He fashionated me
into marrying of him and trusting of him until he levanted with all my
money! And he fashionated that young girl there until she throwed over her
own true love for him! But his fashionations don't last long after he is
found out--that is one good thing! Leastways they didn't with me, and they
don't seem to have done so with her. I come to my senses soon's ever I
found out as he had robbed me and run away. And she come to hers soon's
ever she found out he had a lawful wife living. But now that the grand
vilyun is out of the way, and the young turtledoves has made it all up,
why can't they be married before he goes off to sea?" earnestly inquired
the Californian lady.
"I wish to Heaven it might be done!" fervently exclaimed Natalie, who, in
the happiness of her own love-life, felt a deep sympathy for the young
pair in the bay window.
"And why might it not, then? That is what I want to know. There's no
lawful impediment why them two mightn't be made one right off! My scamp
can't have any claim on her to hinder of it! Good Lord! No! I should think
not! When here I am his lawful wife, alive, and likely to live! And a man
can't have two wives, in this State, at least! So why can't them young uns
be married, and made happy right away?"
"I wish it could be done; but I feel sure that it could not."
"But why, in the name o' common sense?"
"Because neither Mr. nor Mrs. Force would entertain such a plan for a
moment. They would consider it indelicate and undignified in all parties
concerned to marry their daughter to any other suitor, even though that
suitor were Mr. Leonidas Force, so soon after the breaking off of her
marriage ceremony with her late bridegroom-expectant," replied Natalie.
"Fiddle-faddle!" exclaimed the lady from Wild Cats'. "I think it is hard
enough for poor human natur' to keep the commandments of the Lord and the
laws of the land without having to be bound by a passel of fiddle-faddle
fancies!"
"My private opinion is," said Natalie, "that the young couple will yet
marry; but not until he shall return from his next voyage. And they are
both young enough to wait."