THE STAGE-COACH.
Old Mrs. Anderson’s house stood on the outskirts of the village, half a
mile or so before you come to the bridge. Waldon was riding leisurely
along the road, resolved to pass through the village on his way home,
when the stage-coach that carried passengers from the railway, some
miles distant, came lumbering by, and forced him to draw a little on one
side that it might have a free swing up the road.
As it passed on its way through the principal street a pair of young
girls just released from the thraldom of boarding-school were eagerly
looking through the windows, radiant with the happiness of home-coming.
Waldon was attracted by these bright young faces, and held in his horse
that they might be kept in sight, when another face appeared at the
window that fairly startled him. It was that of a lady he knew well, and
recognized by a respectful lift of the hat. The lady beckoned to him
hurriedly through the window. It was the married daughter of Judge Lane,
whom he had met frequently in high social circles in New York, and with
whom he had been on terms of friendship ever since her marriage. Waldon
rode close enough to the coach to hear a hurried request that he would
go forward to her father’s house, where she had something of importance
to say. He managed to understand this request with some difficulty, for
the school girls were full of exhilarating excitement, and broke in upon
the lady’s effort to explain her wishes with exclamations of delight.
How eagerly they leaned from the windows of the coach with glad
recognition, as each remembered tree and bush presented itself! At the
first sight of the village, they threw their arms about each other, and
fairly laughed with delight.
Ah, life has few pleasures so exquisite as that of “a young girl” when
she leaves boarding-school for good, and sees the old homestead heave in
sight.
Onward they went across the bridge, and along the high road.
There the prying head of some gossip was thrust from a window to watch
the passing stage, and look after her unruly boys at the same time.
There was the miller locking his mill for the night. The milliner ran to
her shop door with a half-trimmed bonnet in her hand, and a world of
curiosity in her face.
“It is the Scott girls coming home,” she said, “and, oh, goodness
gracious! if that is not Mrs. Forbes in the back seat! What can have
brought her home all at once? Something new about Ned Lane and that
Anderson girl, I dare say. Who on earth is that gentleman on horseback?
Oh, the Scott girls are bowing.”
Here the milliner waved her half-trimmed bonnet as a signal of welcome
and retreated to her work-room, where she informed her sister that the
most splendid man she had ever seen in her life was that minute riding
up street, just ahead of the stage.
Before the sister could reach a post of observation, the stage had gone
out of sight at a swinging rate, leaving a cloud of dust behind it.
After heralding his approach with a furious crack of the whip, the
driver brought his huge vehicle up with a lurch, before a house which
seemed to have emptied all its inmates on the door-step, swung himself
down over the front wheel and opened the door.
Out sprang the two girls, who were instantly seized by outstretched
hands and hurried into the house, under a storm of welcoming words and
kisses.
Then the driver mounted to his seat again, gave his whip another loud
crack, and made a noisy plunge for the great house of the village where
Mrs. Forbes was to be set down.
In front of this great white building, cut in twain by a broad hall, and
elevated from the street by a terrace, Waldon stood ready to help the
lady down the lumbering steps of the stage, and gave her his arm as she
mounted to the terrace where the Judge stood ready to receive her.
After a brief and rather careless response to her father’s welcome, Mrs.
Forbes, without waiting for the pompous hospitality with which he
greeted Waldon, hurried into the house, heartily tired by her journey
and eager to talk over the occasion that had brought her into the
village, which to her was the dullest place on earth. She threw off her
ample linen duster, with the slate-colored veil that enveloped her hat
and face, gave a little fluff to her deranged hair with both hands, and,
motioning Waldon to a sofa, sat down by his side the moment he came in.
“Of course, you know what has brought me here. That affair about Edward.
He came directly to my house, in an awful way—scoffing at the faculty of
the college, and raving about that Anderson girl, whom I think he will
marry yet in spite of us. I am so glad to find you here. Now tell me,
what can be done? I got papa’s letter and came off at once. It seems as
if nothing would cure the fellow of his infatuation.”
Waldon smiled.
“The course you are all taking certainly never will.”
“But what can we do?”
“Let the young fellow alone. Such maladies are seldom dangerous unless
the contagion spreads.”
“What do you mean?”
“That your brother’s case can safely be left with the young lady.”
“Young lady—you mean Clara Anderson?”
“Yes, I mean Clara Anderson, who has already rejected your brother.”
“Oh, yes, only to lead him on. I understand that.”
“I do not think you understand this girl at all.”
Mrs. Forbes opened her fine eyes in astonishment.
“How can you possibly know that?”
“At your brother’s request I have been cultivating her acquaintance.”
“You!”
“He empowered me to plead his cause with her.”
Mrs. Forbes gathered the folds of her black silk dress about her, and
drew bock to the far end of the sofa, horrified.
“And you did that!”
“According to my best judgment, and my fealty to you,” was the smiling
reply.
The lady drew a deep breath and held out her hand.
“Oh, I begin to comprehend.”
“The task was not unpleasant. This Clara Anderson is a splendid girl.”
Mrs. Forbes read the expression of Waldon’s face, and a smile of quick
intelligence spread over her own.
“She has already refused our young scapegrace in good faith,” he said.
“I do not believe it.”
“Well, I will not contest the matter.”
“He will come back to her, and she will marry him, if it is only to
spite my sister, who has been imprudently hard upon her.”
“I can imagine that such considerations might induce most girls to take
revenge; but this one is an exception.”
“But think what a match it is for her, the richest in this or the next
county.”
“Still my impression is, that if Edward Lane were to kneel at her feet
to-morrow, she would refuse him. Leave the whole matter in my hands for
a week or two, my fair friend, and the result is certain.”
“If Edward only had proofs that she encouraged another,” said the lady,
thoughtfully.
“Exactly.”
“Or could be brought to flirt with any one else.”
Waldon smiled.
“She is self-willed, and knows the value of her conquest too well for
that. My father would have bought her off at any price, but she was
absolutely insolent in her refusal.”
“I can imagine that.”
“Papa is no diplomat. He does not comprehend the force of a little
flattery, so the whole negotiation must have been badly managed. I come
for the purpose of taking the matter in my own hands.”
Waldon bent toward the fair speaker, and replied in looks more
impressive than his words.
“But you will take advice and return at once.”
“I am sure nothing would please me better. We were ready for Saratoga
when the young madman came to break up our plans.”
“That is the best thing you can do. Go to Saratoga, and take him with
you.”
“But he will not go. I understand it all now, he is waiting for your
report; but I warn you, he will believe nothing that does not come
directly from the girl herself.”
“I accept the warning. Be content that this whole matter shall end to
your satisfaction. Now adieu, for I take it you return to-morrow.”
“I would go to-night, if that were possible; for papa is never pleasant
when his sense of dignity has been disturbed. Then once more adieu.”
Mrs. Forbes stood by the window, and watched Waldon mount his horse and
ride away.
“What a splendid creature he is!” she thought. “I have never seen a man
of finer presence anywhere. If he condescends to break this thing up
with a little attention, it will be an act of friendship I shall never
forget. But Heaven help that girl!”