A Romantic Young Lady Part 24

As the months slipped away, I began to be haunted occasionally by the thought that a year was a longer time than I had supposed, and it might be that Francis Prime would take me at my word, and try to forget me. At such moments my heart seemed to stand still, and a weary vista of monotonous and never-ceasing maidenhood arose before me. It would be preferable to die than to be deceived now. I would not doubt; and indeed I did not doubt. But who can control the changing moods of the imagination?

I think the consciousness that such a thing as his proving false was a possibility affected my treatment of my maiden aunts, and made me more gentle and considerate in regard to their foibles. The early lives of both of them were sealed books to me, excepting the glimpse Aunt Helen had given me of hers at the time of my own first sorrow. Who could tell that there was not in their hearts some bit of cruel treachery or misunderstanding still remembered though unmentioned, which had seared and withered existence for them? It was this feeling among others, that urged me to write to Aunt Agnes and ask permission to spend a day or two with her before we finally returned to town. She never left the city, preferring, as she declared, the stability of the bricks and mortar, to being drowned at the sea-side or mangled by cattle in the country.

Rather to my surprise, she said in her answer that she had been on the point of writing to me herself, but would now defer mentioning the matter she had in mind until we met.

As I had divined, the subject that was engrossing her as regards me was the coming visit of the Honorable Ernest Ferroll. She had heard from him at San Francisco to the effect that he was on the point of starting for the East, and that he took the liberty of forwarding to her his letters of introduction as preliminary to paying his respects to her in person.

But on the particular evening of my arrival I found Aunt Agnes oblivious to everything except a piece of information which, though far from incredible to me, had evidently been to her like lightning from a clear sky. The forbidding manner in which she received me led me to fancy that I had displeased her; and remembering her previous discovery, the awful suspicion that she had ferreted out my secret seized me for an instant. But I was speedily rea.s.sured.

"I am glad you are here, Virginia, if only to read this. You were right, child, after all; and I am an old fool, over whose eyes any one seems to be able to pull the wool."

She spoke in her sternest tones, and held out to me a newspaper in which was the announcement of the nuptials of Mr. Charles Liversage Spence and Miss Lucretia Kingsley,--"no cards."

"Did you not know they were engaged?" I inquired.

"I know nothing but what you see there," replied my aunt; "and what is more, I wish to know nothing further."

"They have acted for some time as if they were engaged. If they are in love with each other it seems best that they should be married, after all," I said, not caring to express my opinion as to the especial fitness of the match with any greater emphasis.

"In love with each other! What right had she to fall in love with him, I should like to know?" she exclaimed with indignation. "She a mere disciple, a pupil, to fall in love with the master; aspire to be the wife of a man as far superior to her as a planet to an ordinary star!

Bah! Fall in love with him! Tell _me_! It was bad enough when he fell in love with you, Virginia; but this is fifty times worse, because she knew better, and understood the value of celibacy to such a life. Her conduct amounts to utter selfishness."

"I think Miss Kingsley has had designs on Mr. Spence for a long time.

That was why she was so bitter against me," I said.

"Would that you had married him, Virginia! I could have endured that.

But this is disgusting! I never wish to see either of them again,"

emphatically remarked Aunt Agnes.

It was useless to represent to her that Mrs. Spence was very much in love with her husband, and that on that account would doubtless strive to make him happy. It was the fact of their marriage that distressed her; and, unlike me, she did not think of pitying Mr. Spence because of any flaws in the disposition of his wife. I tried therefore to dismiss the matter from the conversation as soon as possible; and before the end of the evening her mood was so far mollified that she introduced the subject of the Honorable Ernest's arrival.

"Yes, Virginia," she said, "it is forty-one years ago that I made the ocean pa.s.sage with that young man's father, and we have corresponded ever since. That is what comes of being systematic in one's habits. Now, don't go fancying that there was anything more in it than there really was. We were friends simply, nothing else. But a friend means something to me; and I mean to receive this young man into my house, and show him every attention in my power. And you tell me that you have met him in New York, and like him very much? I am not a match-maker, Virginia, like your Aunt Helen; but it would doubtless be very agreeable to both the families if you young people should happen to take a fancy to each other. Stranger things have occurred; and since it is evident to me from an intimate knowledge of your character that you are sure to marry some day, I know of no one whom it would please me so much to intrust your future happiness to, as the son of my old friend. His presumptive rank would probably weigh for more with you than with me. Provided the young man has high principles and a steadfast purpose, I shall be content."

I laughed gently in reply. I had made up my mind not to thwart the old lady openly. It would be time enough for that later, if the Honorable Britain ever should come to the point. It was such a novel coincidence that my aunts should agree for once on anything, that the thought of putting myself in antagonism with them did not occur to me seriously for a moment. I felt the humor of the situation, and was also filled at once with the desire to harmonize them forever by means of this common interest.

"We will see, Aunt Agnes, what he thinks of me," I said; and all through my visit of two days I dropped hints of the efforts Aunt Helen had made in New York to prejudice Mr. Ferroll in my favor.

"She has spoiled all, I dare say, by showing her hand too openly,"

bristled Aunt Agnes, the first time I mentioned the subject.

"In that case, you will have to let him have a glimpse of the Harlan pride," I answered. "I shall depend on you not to allow me to be forced upon him, Aunt Agnes. I am sure, however, that Aunt Helen means well in the matter. She may be a little indiscreet, but if you were to talk it over with her I am sure you would come to a satisfactory agreement. Now, it strikes me as an excellent idea for you to come and spend a few days with us at Newport. It would give us both very great pleasure. Please do think of it seriously."

"Newport? Do you take me for a fas.h.i.+onable do-nothing, child? Why, your aunt wouldn't let me inside the door! I have only six dresses in the world. Newport! Tell _me_!"

"What nonsense, Aunt Agnes! I promise you that you shall have the warmest of welcomes if you will come, and you may, if you prefer, wear the same dress all the time you are there."

I did not press the matter at the moment, but I recurred to it many times afterwards; and as soon as I got home I told Aunt Helen of Aunt Agnes' proposal to invite Mr. Ferroll to her own house, and of her general enthusiasm in regard to his proposed visit.

"Bravo!" she responded, clapping her hands. "Your aunt shows her sense for once in her life, though one would have to be blind as a mole not to see that this is one chance in a thousand."

"What should you say to asking her down here for a few days?"

"Certainly, dear. She doesn't know any one, to be sure, and would probably dress like an antediluvian. But people wouldn't think any thing of that, if it was whispered around that she is literary and peculiar. I think on the whole it would be a good plan to ask her. I can give her a few ideas as to how a n.o.bleman should be handled."

"Precisely," I answered.

Accordingly, Aunt Helen and I each wrote a most urgent letter of invitation; and after some further correspondence, my efforts were rewarded with the presence in my house of my father's sister. For the first twenty-four hours, despite my cordial welcome, I feared every moment lest she should announce her intention of going home again. Her manner was so stiff, and Aunt Helen's so airy, that I was apprehensive of a catastrophe. But at last by the display of tact, and by carefully humoring their respective prejudices, I drew them gradually together; and when at last I was taken apart by each of them successively one evening, to be told that save for certain unfortunate peculiarities her rival was an uncommonly sensible woman, I felt that I could safely retire, and leave them to their day-dream of making me d.u.c.h.ess of Clyde.

"d.u.c.h.ess or no d.u.c.h.ess, it would be an admirable connection," said Aunt Agnes.

"And there is no shadow of a doubt that his wife will be a d.u.c.h.ess,"

added Aunt Helen.

One day, shortly after we had returned to town, the news reached us that the Honorable Ernest Ferroll was in New York, and as a consequence there was great excitement among those who had been told of his projected visit to our city. In her wish to make the young n.o.bleman comfortable, Aunt Agnes had yielded to the remonstrances of her former enemy as to the necessity of renovating her house, and accordingly was absorbed by plumbers, upholsterers, and decorators, who under the general supervision of Aunt Helen undermined the customs of a lifetime, but cemented this new friends.h.i.+p. The last touches were being put to the improvements, and complete harmony reigned between the two establishments. To think of Aunt Agnes dropping in on Aunt Helen, or Aunt Helen drinking tea with Aunt Agnes!

It therefore happened that I was taken very little notice of by my two relatives, and was free to indulge the sweet current of sentiment, of which they were so blissfully unaware, to my heart's content. The power of love, and the power of money! How when united did they each illumine the other,--they, the two greatest forces of the world!

On the morning following the day on which we heard of Mr. Ferroll's arrival in New York, I saw a statement in the daily paper which made me start violently. It was the announcement of the failure of Roger Dale, banker and broker, with liabilities of three millions and estimated a.s.sets of less than one hundred thousand. I hastened to get ready to call on Mr. Chelm, but before leaving the house I received a message from him which read as follows: "Francis Prime is in town, and I have made an appointment with him for twelve o'clock. You will please come to the office at once, if possible."

"What has happened, Mr. Chelm?" I asked, as I entered the room where he was sitting. I tried to seem calm and indifferent.

"Sit down, Miss Harlan. I am sorry to say that your friend Francis Prime has got into difficulties. Roger Dale, a rather prominent banker, has suspended payment, and Mr. Prime happens to be one of his largest creditors."

"Has Mr. Prime failed also?"

"Not yet. But I see no escape for him on his own showing. The circ.u.mstances are peculiar, and indicate deliberate fraud on the part of Dale; but, as Prime says, he can't let his own customers suffer."

"This is all a riddle to me," I said, a little impatiently. "You forget that I do not know the facts yet."

"The facts are simple enough; and the whole difficulty, it seems, is indirectly the result of having anything to do with men who take improper risks. As I told you the other day, young Prime has been egged on by the large sums he has seen made in a few days by others, to go joint account with this man Dale, who has had the reputation of being very shrewd and successful, and who, by the way, comes from this city.

The speculations turned out very well, especially this last one, which our friend tells me was to have been his last."

"Yes, I am sure it was," I answered excitedly.

Mr. Chelm looked at me with a blank sort of gaze. "Very likely," he observed, with a dry smile. "Well, as I was saying, this like the others was profitable, and Prime not only had enriched himself but some of his customers who had taken the risk with him. The money was paid to him, and he made reports of the same to his customers. But the same day Dale came in and asked Prime to loan him over night the sum he had just paid in, as a personal favor. Prime says he hesitated, not because he suspected anything, but on grounds of common prudence. It seemed to him, however, that it would be churlish and punctilious to refuse to accommodate the man to whom he owed his good fortune, and so he lent the money. Next day, Dale failed disgracefully. Of course Mr. Prime feels bound in honor to pay his customers their profits, which happen to exceed his capital. There is the whole story."

"I see. And what do you advise me to do?" I asked, after a pause.

"Do?" Mr. Chelm shrugged his shoulders. "I do not see that you can do anything."

"I can pay his debts."

"You can pay his debts, and you can found a Home for unsuccessful merchant-princes, if you choose, but not with my consent."

"He has behaved very honorably."

"Pooh! Any honest man would do the same."