The snow was falling fast nest morning, when with a long hoarse
shriek the locomotive dashed into New York, and drew up to the
platform, where a crowd of human beings and equipages of every
description had assembled to greet the arrival of the train.
The din of voices, ringing of bells, whistle of engines, and all the
varied notes of that Babel diapason that so utterly bewilders the
stranger stranded on the bustling streets of busy Gotham, fell upon
Regina's ears with the startling force of novelty. She wondered if
there were thunder mixed with swiftly falling snow--that low, dull,
ceaseless roar--that endless monologue of the paved streets--where
iron and steel ground down the stone highways, along which the
Juggernaut of Traffic rolled ponderously, day in and day out.
Gazing curiously down from her window at the sea of faces wherein
cabmen, omnibus drivers, porters, vociferated and gesticulated, each
striving to tower above his neighbour, like the tame vipers in the
Egyptian pitcher, whereof Teufelsdröckh discourses in Sator Resartus,
Regina made no attempt to leave her seat, until the courteous
conductor to whose care Mrs. Lindsay had consigned her touched her
arm to arrest her attention.
"You are Miss Orme, I believe, and here is the gentleman who came to
meet you."
Turning quickly, with the expectation of seeing Mr. Palma, she found
herself in the presence of an elegantly dressed young gentleman, not
more than twenty-two or three years old, who wore ample hay-coloured
whiskers brushed in English style, after the similitude of the fins
of a fish, or the wings of a bat. A long moustache of the same colour
drooped over a mouth feminine in mould, and as he lifted his brown
fur cap and bowed she saw that his light hair was parted in the
middle of his head.
He handed her a card on which was printed, "Elliott Roscoe."
"Regina Orme, I presume. My cousin Mr. Palma desired me to meet you
at the train, and see you safely to his house, as he is not in the
city. I guess you had a tiresome trip; you look worn out. Have you
the checks for your baggage?"
She handed them to him, took her satchel, and followed him out of the
car, through the dense throng, to a _coupé_.
The driver, whose handsome blue coat with its glittering gilt buttons
was abundantly embroidered with snow-flakes, opened the door, and as
Mr. Roscoe assisted the stranger to enter, he said:
"Wait, Farley, until I look after the baggage."
"Yonder is O'Brien with his express waggon. Give him the checks, and
he will have the trunks at home almost as soon as we get there.
Michael O'Brien!"
As the ruddy, beaming pleasant countenance of the express man
approached, and he received the checks, Mr. Roscoe sprang into the
carriage, but Regina summoned courage to speak.
"If you please, I want my dog."
"Your dog! Did you leave it in the car? Is it a poodle?"
"Poodle! He is a Newfoundland, and the express agent has him."
"Then O'Brien will bring him with the trunks," said Mr. Roscoe,
preparing to close the door.
"I would not like to leave him behind."
"You certainly do not expect to carry him in the carriage?" answered
the gentleman, staring at her, as if she had been a refugee from some
insane asylum.
"Why not? There seems plenty of room. I am so much afraid something
might happen to him among all these people. But perhaps you would not
like him shut up in the carriage."
For an instant she seemed sorely embarrassed, then leaning forward,
addressed the coachman.
"Would you mind taking my dog up there with you? thank you very much
if you will please be so kind."
Before the wistful pleading of the violet eyes, and the sweet tones
of the hesitating voice, the surly expression vanished from Farley's
countenance, and, touching his hat, he replied cheerfully:
"Aye, miss; if he is not venomous, I will take him along."
"Thank you. Mr. Roscoe, if you will be so good as to go with me to
the express car, I can get my dog."
"That is not necessary. Besides it is snowing hard, and your wraps
are not very heavy. Give me the receipt, and I will bring him out."
There was some delay, but after a little while Mr. Roscoe came back
leading Hero by a chain attached to his collar. The dog looked sulky
and followed reluctantly, but at sight of his mistress, sprang
forward, barking joyfully.
"Poor Hero! poor fellow! Here I am."
When he had been prevailed upon to jump up beside the driver, and the
carriage rolled homeward, Mr. Roscoe said:
"That is a superb creature. The only pure white Newfoundland I ever
saw. Where did you get him?"
"He was bought in Brooklyn several years ago, and sent to me."
"What is his name?"
"Hero."
"How very odd. Bruno, or Nero, or Ponto, or even Fido, would be so
much more suitable."
"Hero suits him, and suits me."
Mr. Roscoe looked curiously into the face beside him, and laughed.
"I presume you are a very romantic young miss, and have been dreaming
about some rustic Leander in round jacket."
"My dog was not called after the priestess at Sestos. It means hero
the common noun, not Hero the proper name. Holding torches to guide
people across the Hellespont was not heroism."
If she had addressed him in Aramaic he would not have been more
surprised; and for a moment he stared.
"I am afraid your Hero will not prove a thoroughly welcome addition
to my cousin's household. He has no fondness whatever for dogs, or
indeed for pets of any kind, and Mrs. Palma, who has a chronic terror
of hydrophobia, will not permit a dog to come near her."
He saw something like a smile flicker across the girl's mouth, but
she did not look up, and merely asked:
"Where is Mr. Palma?"
"He was unexpectedly called to Philadelphia two days ago, on urgent
business. Do you know him?"
"I have not seen him for several years."
She turned away, fixing her attention upon the various objects of
interest that flitted by, as they rolled rapidly along one of the
principal streets. The young gentleman who in no respect resembled
Mr. Palma, found it exceedingly pleasant to study the fair delicate
face beside him, and not a detail of her dress, from the shape of
her hat to the fit of her kid gloves, escaped his critical
inspection.
Almost faultily fastidious in his Broadway trained tastes, he arrived
at the conclusion that she possessed more absolute beauty than any
one in his wide circle of acquaintance; but her travelling suit was
not cut in the approved reigning style, and the bow of ribbon at her
throat did not exactly harmonize with the shade of the feather in her
hat, all of which jarred disagreeably.
As the carriage entered Fifth Avenue, and drew up before one of the
handsome brown-stone front mansions that stretch like palatial walls
for miles along that most regal and magnificent of American streets,
Mr. Roscoe handed his companion out, and rang the bell.
Hero leaped to the sidewalk, and, patting his head, Regina said:
"Driver, I am very much obliged to you for taking care of him for
me."
"You are quite welcome, miss. He is an uncommon fine brute, and I
will attend to him for you if you wish it."
The door opened, and Regina was ushered in, and conducted by Mr.
Roscoe into the sitting-room, where a blazing coal fire lent pleasant
warmth and a ruddy glow to the elegantly furnished apartment.
"Terry, tell the ladies we have come."
The servant disappeared, and, holding his hands over the fire, Mr.
Roscoe said:
"I believe you are a stranger to all but my cousin; yet you are
probably aware that his stepmother and her daughter reside with him."
Before she could reply the door suddenly opened wide, as if moved by
an impatient hand, and a middle-aged lady, dressed in black silk that
rustled proudly at every step, advanced toward Regina. Involuntarily
the girl shivered, as if an icy east wind had blown upon her.
"Mrs. Palma, I have brought this young lady safely, and transfer her
to your care. This is Regina Orme."
"Miss Orme has arrived on a cold day, and looks as if she realized
it."
She put out her hand, barely touched the fingers of the stranger, and
her keen, probing, inquisitorial eyes of palest grey wandered
searchingly over the face and figure; while her haughty tone was
chill--as the damp breath of a vault.
Catching sight of Hero she started back, and exclaimed with
undisguised displeasure:
"What! A dog in my sitting-room! Who brought that animal here?"
Regina laid a protecting hand on the head of her favourite, and said
timidly, in a voice that faltered from embarrassment:
"It is my dog. Please, madam, allow me to keep him; he will disturb
no one; shall give no trouble."
"Impossible! Dogs are my pet aversion. I would not even allow my
daughter to accept a lovely Italian greyhound which Count Fagdalini
sent her on her last birthday. That huge brute there would give me
hysterics before dinner-time."
"Then you shall not see him. I will keep him always out of eight; he
shall never annoy you."
"Very feasible in a Fifth Avenue house! Do you propose to lock him up
always in your own chamber? How absurd!"
She touched the bell, and added:
"It always saves trouble to start exactly as we expect or intend to
continue. I cannot endure dogs--never could, and yours must be
disposed of at once."
Pitying the distress so eloquently printed on the face of the girl,
Mr. Roscoe interposed:
"Strike, but hear me! Don't banish the poor fellow so summarily. He
can't go mad before May or June, if then; and at least let her keep
him a few days. She feels strange and lonely, and it will comfort her
to have him for a while."
"Nonsense, Elliott! Terry, tell Farley I shall want the carriage in
half an hour, and meantime ask him to come here and help you take out
this dog. We have no room for any such pests. Send Hattie to show
this young lady to her own room."
Mr. Roscoe shrugged his shoulder, and closely inspected his seal
ring.
There was an awkward silence. Mrs. Palma stirred the coals with the
poker, and at last asked abruptly:
"Miss Orme, I presume you have breakfasted?"
"I do not wish any, thank you."
Something in her quiet tone attracted attention, and as the lady and
gentleman turned to look at her, both noticed a brilliant flush on
her cheek, a peculiar sparkle dancing in her eyes.
Passing her arm through the handle of her satchel, she put both her
hands upon Hero's silver collar.
"Hattie will show you up to your room, Miss Orme; and if you need
anything call upon her for it. Farley, take that dog away, and do not
let me see him here again."
The blunt but kind-hearted coachman looked irresolute, glancing first
at his mistress, and then pityingly at the girl. As he advanced to
obey, Regina said in a quiet but clear and decisive tone:
"Don't you touch him. He is mine, and no one shall take him from me.
I am sorry, Mrs. Palma, that I have annoyed you so much, and I have
no right to force unpleasant things upon you, even if I had the
power. Come, Hero! we will find a place somewhere; New York is large
enough to hold us both. Good-bye, Mr. Roscoe. Good-day, Mrs. Palma."
She walked toward the door, leading Hero, who rubbed his head
caressingly against her.
"Where are you going?" cried Mr. Roscoe following, and catching her
arm.
"Anywhere--away from this house," she answered very quietly.
"But Mr. Palma is your guardian! He will be dreadfully displeased."
"He has no right to be displeased with me. Beside, I would not for
forty guardians give up my Hero. Please stand aside, and let me
pass."
"Tell me first, what you intend to do."
"First to get out, where the air is free. Then to find the house of
a lady, to whom I have a letter of introduction from Mrs. Lindsay."
Mrs. Palma was sorely perplexed, and though she trembled with excess
of anger and chagrin, a politic regard for her own future welfare,
which was contingent upon the maintenance of peaceful relations with
her stepson, impelled her to concede what otherwise she would never
have yielded. Stepping forward she said with undisguised scorn:
"If this is a sample of his ward's temper, I fear Erle has resumed
guardianship of Tartary. As Miss Orme is a total stranger in New
York, it is sheer madness to talk of leaving here. This is Erle
Palma's house, not mine, else I should not hesitate a moment; but
under the circumstances I shall insist upon this girl remaining here
at least until his return, which must be very soon. Then the dog
question will be speedily decided by the master of the establishment."
"Let us try and compromise. Suppose you trust your pet to me for a
few days, until matters can be settled? I like dogs, and promise to
take good care of yours, and feed him on game and chicken soup."
He attempted to put his hand on the collar, but Hero, who seemed to
comprehend that he was a _casus belli_, growled and showed his teeth.
"Thank you, sir, but we have only each other now. Mrs. Palma, I do
not wish to disturb or annoy you in any way, and as I love my dog
very much, and you have no room for him, I would much rather go away
now and leave you in peace. Please, Mr. Roscoe, let me pass."
"I can fix things to suit all around, if madam will permit," said the
coachman.
"Well, Farley, what is your proposition?"
His mistress was biting her lip from mortification and ill-concealed
rage.
"I will make a kennel in the corner of the carriage-house, where he
can be chained up, and yet have room to stretch himself; and the
young miss can feed him, and see him as often as she likes, till
matters are better settled."
"Very well. Attend to it at once. I hope Miss Orme is satisfied?"
"No, I do not wish to give so much trouble to you all."
"Oh, miss I it is no trouble worth speaking of; and if you will only
trust me, I will see that no harm happens to him."
For a moment Regina looked up at the honest, open, though somewhat
harsh Hibernian face, then advanced and laid the chain in his hand.
"Thank you very much. I will trust you. Be kind to him, and let me
come and see him after awhile. I don't wish him ever to come into the
house again."
"The baggage-man has brought the trunks," said Terry.
"Have them taken upstairs. Would you like to go to your room, Miss
Orme?"
"If you please, madam."
"Then I must bid you good-bye," said Mr. Roscoe, holding out his
hand.
"Do you not live here?"
"Oh no! I am only a student in my cousin's law-office, but come here
very often. I hope the dog-war is amicably settled, but if
hostilities are reopened, and you ever make up your mind to give Hero
away, please remember that I am first candidate for his ownership."
"I would almost as soon think of giving away my head. Good-bye, sir."
As she turned to follow the servant out of the room, she ran against
a young lady who hastily entered, singing a bar from "Traviata."
"Bless me! I beg your pardon. This is----"
"Miss Orme; Erle's ward."
"Miss Orme does not appear supremely happy at the prospect of
sojourning with us, beneath this hospitable roof. Mamma, I understand
you have had a regular Austerlitz battle over that magnificent dog I
met in the hall,--and alas! victory perched upon the standard of the
invading enemy! Cheer up, mamma! there is a patent medicine just
advertised in the _Herald_ that hunts down, worries, shakes, and
strangles hydrophobia, as Gustave Billon's Skye terrier does rats.
Good-morning, Mr. Elliott Roscoe! Poor Miss Orme looks strikingly
like a half-famished and wholly hopeless statue of Patience that I
saw on a monument at the last funeral I attended in Greenwood.
Hattie, do take her to her room, and give her some hot chocolate, or
coffee, or whatever she drinks."
She had taken both the stranger's hands, shook them rather roughly,
and in conclusion pushed her toward the door.
Olga Neville was twenty-two, tall, finely formed, rather handsome;
with unusually bright reddish-hazel eyes, and a profusion of tawny
hair, which nine persons in ten would unhesitatingly have pronounced
red, but which she persistently asserted was of exactly the classic
shade of ruddy gold, that the Borgia gave to Bembo. Her features were
large, and somewhat irregular in contour, but her complexion was
brilliant, her carriage very graceful, and though one might safely
predict that at some distant day she would prove "fair, fat, and
forty," her full figure had not yet transgressed the laws of
symmetry.
As the door of the sitting-room closed, she put her large white hands
on her mother's shoulders, shook her a little, and kissed her on the
cheek.
"Do, mamma, let us have fair play, or I shall desert to the enemy. It
was not right to open your batteries on that little thing before she
got well into position, and established her line. If I am any judge
of human nature, I rather guess from the set of her lips, and the
stars that danced up and down in her eyes, that she is not quite as
easily flanked as a pawn on a chessboard."
"I wish, Olga, that you were a better judge of common sense, and of
the courtesy due to my opinions. I can tell you we are likely to see
trouble enough with this high-tempered girl added to the family
circle."
"Why, she has not Lucretia-coloured tresses like my own lovely-spun
gold? I thought her hair looked very black."
"I will warrant it is not half as black as her disposition. She
looked absolutely diabolical when she pretended to march out into the
world, playing the _rôle_ of injured, persecuted innocence."
"Now, mamma! She is decidedly the prettiest piece of diabolism I ever
saw. Elliott, what do you think of her?"
"That some day she will be a most astonishing beauty. Can you
recollect that lovely green and white cameo pin set with diamonds
that Tiffany had last spring? Ned Bartlett bought it for his wife the
day they started to Saratoga. Well, this girl is exactly like that
exquisite white cameo head; I noticed the likeness as soon as I saw
her. But she needs polish, city training, society marks, and her
clothes are at least two seasons old in style. I think too your
mother is quite right in believing she has a will of her own. She was
really in earnest, and would have walked out, if Farley had not come
to the rescue. Olga, what are you laughing at?"
"I am anticipating the sport in store for me when her will and Erle
Palma's come in conflict. Won't the sparks fly! We shall have a
domestic shower of meteors to enliven our daily dull routine! You
know the stately and august head of this establishment savours of
Fitz-James, and in all matters of controversy acts fully out what
Scott only dreamed:
'Come one, come all! this rock shall fly
From its firm base, as soon as I!'
I daresay it is his terrapin habit that helps Erle Palma to his great
success as a lawyer; when he once takes hold, he never lets go. Now,
mamma, if you do not hoist a white flag as far as that poor girl is
concerned, I shall certainly ask your wary stepson to give her a
sprig of phryxa from Mount Brixaba. Do you understand, Elliott?"
"Of course not I rarely do understand you when you begin your
spiteful challenges. Now, Olga, I always preserve an unarmed
neutrality, so do let me alone."
He made a deprecating gesture, and put on his hat.
"Free schools and universal education is one of my spavined hobbies,
and a brief canter for your improvement in classic lore would be
charitable, so I proceed: Agatho the Samian says that in the Scythian
Brixaba grows the herb phryxa (hating the wicked), which especially
protects step children; and whenever they are in danger from a
stepmother (observe the antiquity of Stepmotherly characteristics!)
the phryxa gives them warning by emitting a bright flame. You see
Erle Palma remembers his classics, and early in life turned his
attention to the cultivation of phryxa, which flourishes----"
"Olga, you vex me beyond endurance. Put on your furs at once; it is
time to go to the Studio. Elliott, will you ride down with us, and
look at the portrait?"
"Thanks! I wish I could, but promised to write out some legal
references before my cousin returns, and must keep my word; for you
very well know he has scant mercy on delinquents."
"I only hope he will bring his usual iron rule to bear upon this new
element in the household, else her impertinent self-assertion will be
unendurable. Will you be at Mrs. Delafield's reception to-night?"
"I promised to attend. Suppose I call for you and Olga about nine?"
"Quite agreeable to all parties. I shall expect you. Good-morning."
When Regina left the sitting-room she followed the housemaid up two
flights of steps, and into a small but beautifully furnished
apartment, where a fire was not really necessary, as the house was
heated by a furnace, still the absence of the cheerful red light she
had left below made this room seem chill and uninviting.
The trunks had been brought up, and after lowering the curtain of
the window that looked down on the beautiful Avenue, Hattie said:
"Will you have tea, coffee, or chocolate?"
"Neither, I thank you."
"Have you had any breakfast?"
"I do not want any."
"It is no trouble, miss, to get what you like."
Regina only shook her head, and proceeded to take off her hat and
wrappings.
"Are you an orphan?" queried Hattie, her heart warming toward a
stranger who avoided giving trouble.
"No; but my mother is in----is too far for me to go to her."
"Then you aren't here on charity?"
"Charity! No, indeed! Mr. Palma is my guardian until I go to my
mother."
"Well, miss, try to be contented. Miss Olga has a kinder heart than
her mother, and though she has a bitter tongue and rough ways she
will befriend you. Don't fret about your dog, we folks belowstairs
will see that he does not suffer. We will help you take care of him."
"Thank you, Hattie. I shall be grateful to all who are kind to him.
Please give him some water and a piece of bread when you go down."
It was a great relief to find herself once more alone, and, sinking
down wearily into a rocking chair, she hid her face in her hands.
Her heart was heavy, her head ached; her soul rose in rebellion
against the cold selfishness and discourtesy that had characterized
her reception by the inmates of her guardian's house.
Everything around her betokened wealth, taste, elegance; the carpets
and various articles of furniture were of the most costly materials,
but at the thought of living here she shuddered. Fine and fashionable
in all its appointments, but chilly, empty, surface gilded, she felt
that she would stifle in this mansion.
By comparison, how dear and sacred seemed the old life at the
parsonage I how desolate and dreary the present! how inexpressibly
lonely and hopeless the future!
From the thought of Mr. Palma's return, she could borrow no pleasant
auguries, rather additional gloom and apprehension; and his absence
had really been the sole redeeming circumstance that marked her
arrival in New York. With an unconquerable dread which arose from
early childish prejudice and which she never attempted to analyze,
she shrank from meeting him.
There came a quick low rap on the door, but she neither heard nor
heeded it, and started when a warm hand removed those that covered
her face.
"Just as I expected, you are having a good cry all to yourself. No,
your eyes are dry and bright as stars. I daresay you have set us all
down as a family of brutes; as more cruel than the Piutes or Modocs;
as stony hearted as Solomon, when he ordered the poor little baby to
be cut in half and distributed among its several mothers. But there
is so little justice left in the world, that I imagine each
individual would do well to contribute a moiety to the awfully
slender public stock. Suppose you pay tithes to the extent of
counting me out of this nest of persecutors? Thank Heaven! I am not a
Palma! My soul does not work like the piston of a steam-engine,--is
not regulated by a gauge-cock and safety-valve to prevent all
explosions, to keep the even, steady, decorous, profitable tenor of
its sternly politic way. I am a Neville. The blood in my veins is not
'blue' like the Palma's, but red,--and hot enough to keep my heart
from freezing, as the Palma's do, and to melt the ice they
manufacture, wherever they breathe. I am no Don Quixote to redress
your grievances, or storm windmills; for verily neither mamma nor
Erle Palma belongs to that class of harmless innocuous bugaboos, as
those will find to their cost who run against them. I am simply Olga
Neville, almost twenty-three, and quite willing to help you if
possible. Shall we enter into an alliance--offensive and defensive?"
She stood by the mantlepiece, slowly buttoning her glove, and looked
quite handsome, and very elegant in her rich wine-coloured silk and
costly furs.
Looking up into her face, Regina wondered how far she might trust
that apparently frank open countenance, and Olga smiled, and added:
"You are a cunning fledgling, not to be caught with chaff. Have they
sent you anything to eat?"
"I declined having anything. My head aches."
"Then do as I tell you, and you will soon feel relieved. There is a
bath-room on this floor. Ring for Hattie, and tell her you want a
good hot bath. When you have taken it, lie down and go to sleep. One
word before I go. Do try not to be hard on mamma. Poor mamma! She
married among these Palmas, and very soon from force of habit and
association she too grew politic, cautious; finally she also froze,
and has never quite thawed again. She is not unkind,--you must not
think so for an instant; she only keeps her blood down to the safe,
wise prudent temperature of sherbet. Poor mamma! She does not like
dogs; once she was dreadfully bitten, almost torn to pieces by one,
and very naturally she has developed no remarkable 'affinity' for
them since that episode. Hattie will get you anything you need. Take
your bath and go to sleep, and dream good-natured things about
mamma."
She nodded, smiled pleasantly, and glided away as noiselessly as she
came, leaving Regina perplexed, and nowise encouraged with reference
to the stern cold character of her guardian.
She had eaten nothing since the previous day, had been unable to
close her eyes after bidding Mrs. Lindsay farewell; and now, quite
overcome with the reaction from the painful excitement of yesterday's
incidents, she threw herself across the foot of the bed, and clasped
her hands over her throbbing temples. No sound disturbed tier, save
the occasional roll of wheels on the street below, and very soon the
long lashes drooped, and she slept the heavy deep sleep of mental and
physical exhaustion.