A DINNER PARTY.
And Sedgwick, what of him? He had gone, as he said, "to see Jack through,
as Jack had stood by him in Ohio," but when Grace Hamlin--or Grace
Meredith, which was her real name--at their summons entered the parlor he
was transfixed. Just medium height was she, slight but perfect in form,
with darkish-brown eyes and clear-cut features, a golden chestnut curly
mass of hair, the hand of a queen, and the hand-clasp of a sincere, true
and happy woman. And poor Jim was lost in a moment.
He called up all his self-possession, and did the best he could, but
he seized the first opportunity to get away where he could think. Once
outside the house, he hailed a cab, told the driver to jog around for
an hour or two, and then land him at the ---- Hotel. Once started, he
settled back and began to cross-question himself, and to moralize over
the situation.
"I have seen prettier girls than this one, seen them in Ohio, in Texas,
in Virginia City, and they never gave me an extra heart-beat. What is the
matter with me now? When that girl smiled up in my face, welcomed me as
her brother's friend, and told me she was glad I had come with him, all
the clutches broke off my cage, and I thought I would in a moment bring
up in the sump below the 1,700 foot level, smashed so they would have to
sew the pieces up in canvas to bring me to the surface. It is a clear
case that I am gone, and what the mischief am I going to do? Suppose I
brace up and try to win her, and fail, then I shall be done for sure
enough. The old world so far has had no particular attractions for me,
and were I to ask her to look at me, and she, like a sensible woman
that she is, should first look surprised at my assurance, and then
respectfully decline, what would there be left for me? Suppose again, I
could fool her into accepting, then what? I, a rough Nevada miner, linked
for life with a London fairy--beauty and the beast--what would I do with
her? In this babel, what could I do? What could she do on the old Jasper
farm on the hill? I have it. I won't see her again. I will go and pack my
grip, tell Jack I have received a cable which takes me home, and I will
leave to-morrow.
"But then I could not go as I came. Those steady brown eyes would follow
me; when the sunlight would turn its glint on gold and purple clouds, her
chestnut curls would be sure to flash before my eyes, and then there
would be a voice crying to me ceaselessly: 'You who prided yourself on
being brave enough to do any needed thing, you on the first real trial
lowered your flag and fled in a panic. A nice fix I have got myself into.
All my life, through all my dare-devil days, on the ranges in Texas, down
amid the swelling clay of the Comstock, everywhere, my soul has been
equal to the occasion, and I have been able to acquit myself in a way not
to attract attention to my deficiencies. But now my heart has gone back
on me; a pair of eyes have confused my vision, and a little hand has
knocked me out on the first round. I am in a deuce of a fix, surely."
So he rattled on to himself.
The driver was a garrulous whip. From time to time he had been calling
down to Sedgwick the names of famous points of interest along the route,
which had been unheeded by the absorbed occupant of the cab. Finally the
driver explained that a certain structure was Westminster Abbey.
"And what is Westminster Abbey?"
"It is where kings and queens and great soldiers and scholars are
buried," said cabbie.
"Burial lots come high there, do they not?" said Sedgwick.
"Why, man, there are no lots sold there," said cabbie. "It is a place
which was hundreds of years ago set aside for England's great dead to be
buried in. The brightest dream of an Englishman is to rest there at
last."
"Do they dream when they get there?" asked Sedgwick.
"Why, man," said cabbie, "when they get there they are dead."
"Great place!" said Sedgwick.
"The greatest in all England," replied cabbie.
"Do you know of any Englishmen who are in a hurry to be carried there?"
said Sedgwick.
"O, no," said cabbie, "the best of them are not in any hurry about it."
"You Englishmen must be a queer race, to be always dreaming of going to a
place and still are never anxious to start," said Sedgwick.
Cabbie gave up trying to explain the majesty of the great Abbey to one so
utterly obtuse as Sedgwick seemed to be. He drove on in silence for half
an hour or forty minutes before he rallied enough to speak again. Then he
pointed to a structure and called down to Sedgwick that the place was
Newgate.
"What is there peculiar about Newgate?" asked Sedgwick.
"Why, it is the famous Newgate prison," said cabbie.
Sedgwick roused himself and asked, "What do they do in Newgate?"
"What do they do?" said cabbie, "what do they do? Why, they hang people
there sometimes."
"Get down, please, and ask them what they will charge to hang me," said
Sedgwick. He did not smile; he seemed in sober earnest.
Cabbie looked at him for an instant, then whipped up his horses and
hurried him to the hotel. Arriving there, he sprang down and said, "This
is your hotel." Sedgwick got out and was walking off mechanically, when
cabbie said, "Five shillings, please, sir." Sedgwick, with "O, I had
forgotten," handed the man a guinea, and passed into the hotel. Cabbie
looked after him, then tapped his forehead as much as to say, "He is off
in the upper story," and mounting his box, drove away.
Sedgwick went to his rooms, threw off his coat, opened a window, sat
down, put his heels on the table, lighted a cigar which went out in a
moment, and an hour later when Browning, radiant, joyous, and exulting,
returned, he found him there, still holding the unlighted cigar in his
mouth, his feet still on the table, and a puzzled, undecided, and
absorbed look on his face.
Browning rushed up to him, crying, "Jim, congratulate me, I have seen
her, and it is all settled. She is an angel, Jim, and she has promised to
be my wife. O, but God is good to me."
"I am glad, old man, I rejoice with you," said Sedgwick. "I hope with all
my heart no cloud will ever cross the sunshine of your lives." Then he
relapsed again into his moody way.
"What ails you, Jim?" asked Browning. "Does this great babel oppress your
spirits?"
"I believe it does, Jack," he answered. "I was just thinking as you came
in that I had better pull out for home. The atmosphere here is like a
drift without any air-pipe."
"Nonsense," said Browning; "you cannot go. You must wait for my wedding.
It would be all spoiled without you. I was planning it on the way. It
will be in the church, of course, just before midday. You will be the
best man--as usual. You and my sister shall do the honors that day. All
my friends will be there. I will have the church smothered in flowers.
I will corrupt the organist, bribe the choir, double-bank the preacher in
advance, and we will all have a rousing time. We will, by Jove!"
Sedgwick smiled at his friend's happiness, and said: "Did you ever think
that maybe I would be a little out of training for a performance of that
kind? I think I would sooner risk keeping my seat on a wild mustang."
"You can do it, Sedgwick," said Jack. "You must do it. I would not feel
half married unless you were present, and then, did you not promise to
come and see me through?"
"Who will give away the bride?" asked Sedgwick.
The question seemed to startle Browning. "That reminds me," he said,
doubtingly, "that I have neither seen my governor nor old man Jenvie.
I left home telling mother and Grace that before I went home to live I
would have to be invited by the governor. And that reminds me, too, Jim,
there must not be a word about my money. I have only carried the idea
that I worked for three years in the mines in America. They will reckon
it up and conclude that if I was prudent I may have saved £400 or £500."
"That reminds me," said Sedgwick, "that no one must know that I have
anything more than the savings of three or four years' work. It would
give you away if the facts were known about my little fortune. But, Jack,
could you not get along just as well without me? You ought to be in your
own home and ought to enjoy every moment of time, while I am, in this
vast waste of houses, what one solitary monkey would be in a South
American wilderness."
"I will not hear of it, old pard," said Browning. "You see, if the
governor asks me home you will go with me, and we will cabin together as
of old. We will, by Jove! If he does not, then you must help me hold the
fort in this hotel until I can bring my wife here," and he blushed like
a girl when he spoke the word "wife."
The day wore heavily away. It was almost dark when a carriage stopped
at the hotel and the cards of Archibald Hamlin and Percival Jenvie were
brought in. Browning received them, and glancing at them handed them to
Sedgwick, whispering, "They are the old duffers, Jim," caught up his hat,
said to the servant, "Show me the gentlemen," and followed him out of the
room.
He was absent a full half-hour. When he returned the two old men
accompanied him and were presented to Jack. They were very gracious,
invited Sedgwick to come with his son and make his son's home his home
while in London.
Sedgwick was shy when there were ladies present, but men did not
disconcert him.
He thanked Mr. Hamlin for his kind invitation, but begged to be excused,
adding, "I am but a miner, not yet a month from underground. I have lived
a miner's life for years. You do not understand, but that is not a good
school in which to prepare a student for polite society."
"Tut, tut," said the old gentleman, with English heartiness. "We have
a big, rambling old house. You can have your quarters there. When you
become bored you can retreat to them. You shall have a key and go and
come when you please. We should all be hurt were not Jack's friend made
welcome under our roof so long as he pleased to remain in London."
"Well, let me think it over to-night. If I can gather the courage, maybe
I will accept to-morrow," said Sedgwick.
Then Jenvie interposed, saying, "Mr. Sedgwick, let us make a compromise.
My house is but a step from Hamlin's; make it your home half the time.
Really it should be. In England friends only stop at hotels when
traveling."
"Come, Jim," said Jack; "you see it must be, and that is the right thing.
Ours are old-fashioned people, just up from Devonshire. What would you
have thought had I insisted upon stopping at that hotel at the station
near your father's house?"
Sedgwick yielded at last. Their trunks were packed in a few minutes, the
bill settled, and they drove away.
Reaching the Hamlin home they were shown at once to their apartments, and
were informed that so soon as they were ready dinner would be served.
They were not long in dressing, and together they descended to the
parlor. Besides the family, the Jenvie family were also present. Grace
met them at the door, shook hands with Sedgwick, and welcomed him with a
word and a smile which set all his pulses bounding, and, taking his arm,
presented him to the strangers; then shouted gaily: "Follow us! dinner
is waiting."
Sedgwick was given the seat at the right of his host; Grace took the seat
at his right, with Jack and Rose opposite.
The ladies were radiant in evening costume, and Sedgwick with a mighty
effort threw off the depression which had burdened the day and appeared
at his very best.
Mrs. Hamlin, judging shrewdly that perhaps it would relieve the stranger
from embarrassment to engage him in conversation, with beautiful tact
brought him to tell the company of his own country, remarking that "We
insular people have but a vague idea at best of America."
With a smile, Sedgwick replied: "I do not know very much myself of my
native country, for since I left school (here he glanced at Jack and his
eyes twinkled) I merely wandered slowly through the southwestern States,
almost to the Gulf in Texas, then bending north and west again, continued
until I reached the eastern slope of the Sierras, and then made a dive
underground and remained there until Jack determined to go home, and I
came along to take care of him."
Here Miss Jenvie interposed and said: "What was the most precious thing
you ever found in the mines, Mr. Sedgwick?"
"Considering who asked the question, it would be cruel not to tell you it
was Jack," he replied.
All laughed, and Miss Jenvie said: "Is it true, did you and Jack first
meet underground?"
"Indeed we did," said Sedgwick, "and we were neither of us handsomely
attired. I thought he was a gnome; he thought me a Chinese dragon."
Then Miss Grace interposed; "Mr. Sedgwick," said she, "is not Texas a
land where there are a great many cattle?"
"Millions of them," was the reply.
"And is not that the region where the cowboy is also found?" she
continued.
"There are a few there, surely," said Sedgwick, and looking across the
table he saw a smile on Jack's face.
"They are good riders and good shots, are they not?" Grace asked.
"Some of them ride well, and nearly all of them shoot well," said
Sedgwick.
"I would like to go there," said Grace, impetuously; "it must be a jolly
life." Then looking at her mother, she laughed gaily and said: "If ever
one of those cowboys, with broad hat and jingling spurs, comes this way,
you had better lock the doors, mamma, if you want to keep me."
Sedgwick kept a steady face, but his heart was throbbing so that he
feared the company would hear it.
Then Jenvie asked Sedgwick if mining in Nevada was not mostly carried on
by rough and rude men.
Sedgwick's face became grave in a moment, as he said: "We must judge men
by the motives behind their lives, if we would get at what they really
are. There are married men and single men at work in the mines. The
married men have wives and little children to support. They wish to have
their dear ones fed and clothed as well as other generous people feed and
clothe their families. They want their children educated. They have,
moreover, all around them examples of rich men who a year or five years
previous were as humble and poor as they now are. The young men have
hopes quite as sweet, purposes quite as high. This one is to build up a
little fortune for some one he loves; this one has a home in his mind's
eye which he means to purchase; this one has relatives whom he dreams of
making happy, while others have visions of honors and fame, so soon as
something which is in their thoughts shall materialize.
"Then the occupation itself and the results have a tendency, I think, to
exalt men. To begin with, the work is a steady struggle against nature's
tremendous forces. The rock has to be blasted, the waters controlled, the
consuming heat tempered, the swelling clay confined, and to do this men
have to employ great agents. A silver mine generally has Desolation
placed as a watch above it. To work it everything has to be carried to
it. The forest away off on some mountain side has to be felled and hauled
to the spot. For many months the great Bonanza has received within it
monthly 3,000,000 feet of timbers, machinery equal to that in the holds
of mighty steamships has to be set in place and motion; drills are kept
at work 2,000 feet underground, from power supplied on the surface;
hundreds of men have to be daily hoisted from and lowered into the
depths; there has to be a precision and continuity that never fail, and
the men who plan and carry on that work emerge from it after a few years
stronger, brighter, clearer-brained and braver men than they ever would
have been except for that discipline.
"Then what they produce is something which makes the labor of every
other man more profitable, for it is something which is the measure of
values, something which all races of men recognize at once, something
indestructible and peculiarly precious, which can be drawn into a
thread-like silk, or hammered into a leaf so thin that a breath will
carry it away; it is the very spirit of the rock, the part that is
imperishable. Moreover, it is labor made immortal, for, tried by fire, it
grows bright and loses no grain of its weight. Could we find a piece of
the beaten gold that overlaid the temple of Israel's greatest king, it
would, to-day, represent the labor of one of those miners that toiled in
Ophir and fell back to dust thirty generations before the Christ was
born.
"Moreover, it is and has been from the first one of the measures of the
civilization of nations. Where gold and silver are in general circulation
among the people they are always prosperous, their children are always
educated, and the advance is so marked that it can be measured by decades
of years. A nation's decay or enlightenment can be traced by the
decreasing or increasing volume of gold and silver in circulation.
"Miners thus engrossed, producing such a substance, and carrying such
hopes and aspirations in their souls, as a rule, grow stronger, more
manly and more true.
"I do not say that there are not many rough characters among them. I do
not say that when the influence of true women is in great part withdrawn
from any class of men, they do not more and more gravitate toward
savagery, for they but follow a natural law; but the tenderest, truest,
bravest, best, most generous and most just men I have ever known have
been miners in the far West of the United States."
While talking, Sedgwick had seemed to forget where he was, but as
he ceased he glanced across the table and noticed a look of full
appreciation on Rose's face, and smiling, he added: "I was talking for
Jack's sake, Miss Rose."
It was a pleasant dinner, and a pleasant evening followed. There was a
running fire of conversation, broken only when the young ladies sang or
played. When Sedgwick first heard Grace sing, he sat, as he said
afterward, "in mortal terror lest wings should spread out from her white
shoulders and she should disappear through the ceiling."
In point of fact, she sang well, but she was not nearly ethereal enough
to want to give up the substantial earth to take to the ether.
But amid all the contending emotions, Sedgwick kept a furtive watch upon
the two old men. They were exceedingly gracious, but they gave Sedgwick
the impression that they were striving too hard to be agreeable.
Jack was in the seventh heaven. He tried to conceal his joy, but every
moment he would glance at Rose Jenvie with a look in his eyes which was
enough to show any miner where his bonanza was. Sedgwick was wildly
smitten, himself, but he kept his wits about him enough to watch and try
to fathom what in the bearing of the old men for some inexplainable
reason disturbed him.
When the company separated and sought their respective apartments, Jack
went to his own room, threw off his coat, put on slippers and lighted a
cigar, crossed the hall, first tapped upon the door of Sedgwick's room,
then pushed it open, walked in, closed the door, and then burst out with
"Jim, is she not a glory of the earth?"
"I think she is, indeed," was the reply. Sedgwick was thinking of Grace.
"Is there another such girl in all the world, Jim?" said Jack.
"I don't believe there is, old boy; not another one," said Sedgwick.
"What a queenly head she has! What a throat of snow! What an infinite
grace! 'Whether she sits or stands or walks or whatever thing she does,'
she is divine," said Jack.
"She impressed me just that way," said Sedgwick.
"Not too short, not too tall, with just enough flesh and blood to keep
one in mind that while she is divine, she is still a woman," said Jack.
"Only base metal enough to hold the precious metal in place," said
Sedgwick.
So Jack rattled on in the very ecstasy of his love, and so Sedgwick,
quite as deeply involved, replied; the one talking of Rose, the other
of Grace.
At length, however, Sedgwick roused himself and said: "Jack, old boy,
tell me how the old men received you."
"With open arms," said Jack. "My step-father grasped both my hands, said
he was hasty in banishing me as he did, that his heart had been filled
with remorse ever since, that he had sought in vain to find me. And old
man Jenvie, with a hearty welcome and jolly laugh, declared that I served
him exactly right when I floored him; that it had made a better man of
him ever since, and that he was glad to welcome me back to England."
Sedgwick listened, and when Jack ceased speaking there was silence for
a full minute, until Jack said:
"What are you thinking of, Jim?"
"Nothing much," said Sedgwick; "only, Jack, I have changed my mind.
I will stay and help you through the wedding; only hurry it along as
swiftly as you conveniently can."
"There is something on your mind, Jim," said Jack. "What is it, old
friend?"
"Nothing, Jack; nothing but a mean suspicion, for which I can give myself
no tangible excuse for entertaining," asked Sedgwick.
"Suspicion, Jim! Which way do the indications lead?" asked Jack.
"I will tell you, old friend. In Nevada we would say that these old men
are too infernally gushing in their welcome to you. I fear there is
something wrong behind it all; though, as I said, it is a mere suspicion
which I cannot explain to myself; only, Jack, I will stay to the wedding,
and be sure to give no hint to any soul in England that I have more than
money enough to make a brief visit, and then to return to America. And do
not permit what I have said to worry you, for I have no backing for my
impressions."
Then Jack went to his room to sleep and to dream of Rose Jenvie, and Jim
went to bed, not to sleep, but to think of Grace Meredith.