Rose Clark Part 36

"Every evening they a.s.sembled on the piazza when the cars came in, and 'hoped,' with anxious faces, 'that Mr. Vanilla had not concluded to remain over night in the city.' The self-satisfied smile with which he would step up on the piazza rub his hands, and his

"'Now really, ladies,'

"As he turned delightedly from one to the other, were a picture for Hogarth.

"Then after tea there was a preconcerted dispute among them, which should monopolize him 'for their evening walk;' and the innocence with which he would reply to all this fore-ordained wrangling,

"'Now ladies _don't_ quarrel, and I'll engage to take turns with you,'

"Was too much for mortal risibles. One lady would affect the sulks that 'he did not sit next her at table;' another, that 'he did not, like a true knight, wear her colors in the hue of his cravat.' Enveloped in his panoply of self-conceit, he was tossed back and forth on this female hornet's-nest, an agonized, but delighted victim.

"On one occasion a gentleman, jealous for his s.e.x's honor, whispered to one of the lady ringleaders--

"'You are too relentless; I really think this is wrong.'

"'Do you!' answered the pretty tyrant, with an arch smile; 'I will engage one could throw just such a dust in the eyes of any gentleman you might select in this house (including yourself), even with this example before your and their eyes.'"

"Gertrude," said John, reprovingly, "do you remember what Solomon says--

"'A _wise_ woman have I not found?'"

"John," mimicked Gertrude, "do you know the reason of Solomon's failure?

It was because he met with a _pretty_ woman, and forgot to look for a _wise_ one!"

CHAPTER LIII.

"Good evening, Balch. Bless me! how gloomy you look here, after coming from the glare and music of the opera, its ladies and its jewels; you are as good as a nightmare, sitting there with your one bachelor candle, keeping that miserable fire company. One would think your veins were turned to ice, or that there was not a bright eye left in the world to make the blood leap through them. Turn up the gas, sing us a song, hand out a cigar; you are as solemn as a s.e.xton."

"I dare say," replied Balch, in a melancholy key, as he languidly turned on the gas for his friend, and set a box of cigars before him. "I know I am not good company, so I shall not advise you to stay."

"A woman in the case, I dare be sworn," said Gerritt, lighting a cigar, "Lord bless 'em, they are always at the top and bottom of every thing!"

Balch gave the anthracite a poke, crossed his slippered feet, folded his arms, and looked at Gerritt.

"I knew it," said Gerritt. "I am acquainted with all the symptoms of that malady; let's have it, Balch; you can tell me nothing new in the way of woman's twistings and turnings. Bless 'em!"

"Bless 'em?" exclaimed Balch, unfolding his arms, placing both hands on his knees and staring in Gerritt's face. "Bless 'em?"

"Yes; bless 'em. I knew what I was saying, well enough. Bless 'em, I repeat, for if they do not give a man more than five rapturous moments in a life time, it is well worth being born for. Fact;" said Gerritt, as the speechless Balch continued gazing at him.

"Did you ever see Mrs. Markham?" asked Balch, finding voice.

The solemnity with which he asked the question, and his whole _tout ensemble_ at that moment, was too much for Gerritt, who burst into an uproarious laugh.

"Ah, you may laugh," said Balch, "it is all very well; but I wish there was not a woman in the world."

"Horrible!" said Gerritt. "I shan't join you there; but who was this Mrs. Markham?"

Balch moved his chair nearer to Gerritt, and shutting his teeth very closely together, hissed through them,

"The very d--l."

"Is that all?" said the merry philosopher. "So is every woman, unless you get the right side of her. Women are like cats; you must 'poor'

them, as the children say, the right way of the fur, unless you want them to scratch. I suppose you did not understand managing her."

"Were you ever on a committee of an Orphan Asylum?" asked Balch, solemnly.

"No--no;" laughed Gerritt. "Why, Balch, I beg pardon on my knees, for calling you and your den here, funereal; I have not laughed so hard for a twelvemonth."

"Because," said Balch, not heeding his friend's raillery; "_I have_, and Mrs. Markham was the matron."

"O--h--I see," said Gerritt. "You thought her an angel, and _she_ thought that _you_ thought the children under her care were well cared for, when they were not; is that it?"

"Ex-actly," said Balch, in admiration of his friend's penetration; "it was awful how that woman deceived every body. I don't mind myself, though I must say that I never want to see any thing that wears a petticoat again, till the day of my death; but those poor children, I can't get over it; and I one of the investigating committee, too! It was infamous that I did not look into things closer. But, Gerritt, you see, that Mrs. Markham--" and Balch looked foolish.

"I understand;" said Gerritt. "I see the whole game; well, what did you say about it? I suppose you did not content yourself with resigning?"

"No, indeed, and that comforts me a little. I had her turned out. I don't suppose (she was so plausible) that I should have believed Gabriel himself, had be told me any thing against her; but I saw her with my own eyes one day, when I called unexpectedly, abuse those children. She did not know I was within hearing, and tried afterward to gloss it over; it wouldn't do; and then, when the scales had fallen off my eyes, I looked back and saw a great many other things to which that scene gave me the clew. Then I went to Timmins and Watkins, two of her a.s.sistants, and after making me promise not to get them into any difficulty about it, they told me things that would make your very flesh creep; and I one of the investigating committee; but that Mrs. Markham was--"

"I have no doubt of it," said Gerritt; "but, my dear fellow, there is always a drop of consolation to be squeezed out of every thing. Suppose you had married her!"

Balch jammed the poker furiously into the anthracite, shaking his head mournfully the while, and the laughing Gerritt withdrew.

"Yes, yes," said Balch, "that is lucky; but poor little Tibbie! poor little Tibbie! that will not bring _her_ back to life; and poor little Rose, too--and I one of the investigating committee! It is dreadful."

CHAPTER LIV.

The moon shone brightly on the trellised piazza of the ---- House, at Niagara. The sleepy house-porter had curled himself up in the hall corner; the sonorous breathings of weary travelers might be heard through the open windows, for the night was warm and sultry. Two persons still lingered on the piazza. Judging from their appearance, they were not tempted by the beauty of the night. Ensconced in the shadow of the further corner, they were earnestly engaged in conversation.

"I tell you she is in this house; I saw her name on the books--'Gertrude Dean,' your ex-wife. What do you think of that--hey?"

"The d--l!" exclaimed Stahle. "I can _swear_, now that I am out of school, you know, Smith."

"Of course," replied the latter, laughing; "the only wonder is, how you manage to get along with so few vacations. To my mind, swearing lets off the steam wonderfully."

"How long has this admirable spouse of mine been here?" asked Stahle.

"Don't know. Didn't like to ask questions, you know, until I had first spoken to you. She's flush of money, of course, or she could not stay here, where they charge so like the deuce. I should think it would gall you a little, Stahle, and you so out of pocket."

"It would," said the latter, with another oath, "had I not the way of helping myself to some of it."