The Making of Mary Part 9

Mrs. David Gemmell is a bright and witty woman, though I say it, who should not. But why should I not? She did not inherit her wits from me.

Mrs. David Gemmell let the leading ladies of the town understand that unless Mary was invited to everything that was going on, we stayed away ourselves. Lake City society could not proceed without Isabel, so the "white elephant" was received in her train, and truly she did us credit in company, if nowhere else. She was always stylishly dressed, and her dancing was a joy forever. We did not marvel when Will Axworthy, the most eligible young man about, took it into his head to introduce the german to our benighted citizens, that he chose Mary for his partner to lead it with him. She had private lessons from himself, as well as from the dancing master, and proud and happy were Belle and I to sit at the side of the ballroom and watch her going through the figures and bestowing her favors with all the grace and dignity of one of the four hundred.

"She shall go to Boston to-morrow, if she wants to," said I, but this time Belle demurred.

"I think she seems likely to have a good time here this winter, and we may as well let her have her fling."

The prophecy was fulfilled. In spite of the supreme jealousy of the other girls, who could not say mean enough things about her, Mary became quite the rage with the young men.

One Sunday afternoon Will Axworthy called. He is short and broad, has reddish hair and a chronic blush hardly to be looked for in the Ward McAllister of Lake City. Too nervously did he plant himself in my frisky spring rocker, and therefore involuntarily did he present the soles of his boots to the a.s.sembled family, while his head b.u.mped the wall, to the huge delight of our boys!

Undaunted by that inauspicious beginning, he came again the next Sunday, smoked my best cigars, and talked lumber, the one subject upon which he is posted, for he was the manager of a mill here.

He stayed to supper that evening and went with Mary to church afterward.

Then he called for her with a cutter the first bright day, and took her sleigh riding. The embryo wrinkle left Belle's forehead.

"Do you really think he means anything?" said she.

"Don't be too sanguine about it. Nowadays, young men pay a girl a great deal of attention with nothing in their heads but a good time."

"Still, Axworthy's no boy. He's thirty if he's a day, and he has a good salary, and can afford to marry whenever the mood takes him."

"Let us hope and pray that it may take him soon!"

"Amen!" said Belle solemnly.

The daily friction with her _protegee_ was becoming too much for the good-natured patience even of my better half. Acting upon generous impulses is all very fine, but they need to be backed up by a large amount of endurance and tolerance if the results are to be successfully dealt with.

From my vantage-ground on the nursery sofa, behind my screen of newspaper, I frequently hear more than is suspected by the family.

"Mary, you're not going to the rink to-night!" in Belle's most imploring tone.

"Yes, mawm, I am. Lend me your wrench, Watty."

"Mary, I positively forbid you to go to the rink!"

"Well, I do think that's just too mean for anything. Every girl in town goes."

"Every girl in town doesn't skate with barber, or bandsman, or anybody who comes along, as you do."

"Watty's been telling!"

"Watty hasn't been telling!" broke in our eldest son in indignant protest, which he further emphasized by going out and banging the door after him.

"And, Mary," Belle continued, "are you engaged to Mr. Axworthy?"

"No!" sullenly.

"Then if I were you I wouldn't let him kiss me when he says 'Good-night' at the door after bringing you home from a party."

"You're old-fas.h.i.+oned. All the girls do it!"

"No _lady_ would permit a man to take such a liberty. You're spoiling your chances with Mr. Axworthy, I can tell you. I never knew a man yet that would bind himself to a girl when he could have all the privileges of an engaged man, and none of the responsibilities."

"I don't care anything at all about him. I don't want to marry him. He's just giving me a good time."

A good time he undoubtedly did give her throughout the winter. To the smartest b.a.l.l.s and parties he was her escort, and she always wore the roses he never neglected to send. Every Sunday about dusk he would come round to our house, and, martyrs to a good cause, Isabel, mother, and I vacated the cozy parlor with its easy chairs and blazing fire for the nursery--always uproarious with children on that day.

"I wonder what those two find to talk about," speculated Belle. "Mary has no conversation at all, and Axworthy hasn't much more."

"Perhaps he takes it out in looking at her. By the way, Belle, when are you going to appear in the new dress I gave you that fifty dollars to buy? I am quite tired of the mauve tea gown."

My wife glanced over her shoulder to make sure that Grandma was out of hearing.

"The truth is, Dave, I thought I must wait to see how much of it I had left after getting Mary rigged up for the Robinsons' dance. She goes out so often that she needs a change of evening dress."

"Did she ask for it?"

"Not directly, but she remarked that she didn't see what I wanted with a new black silk, that I had plenty of clothes, and that when she was my age she didn't think she'd bother about what she had to wear."

I sprang up from the sofa, prepared to shove Mary out of the house, neck and crop, but Belle's outburst of laughter calmed me.

"Her cheek is so great that it pa.s.ses from the ridiculous to the sublime!"

"Why do you stand it, Belle? You wouldn't from anybody else."

"I can't very well go back on her at this stage, and send her about her business. She's shrewd enough to know that."

"People would laugh; that's so!"

"Besides, if she marries Axworthy, she'll be our social equal here in this town, and it must never be in her power to say that we did not treat her well."

"What is the prospect with Axworthy?"

"Good, I think. He is thoroughly kind to her, and he has given me plenty of hints about the state of his affections, hopes by another winter that Mary will have somebody else to look after her, and so on. He is always most particular in seeing that she is well wrapped up, and that is highly necessary, for she is extremely careless about how she goes out.

In spite of a certain amount of physical dash, she isn't a bit strong; has no staying power."

"It won't be much fun for Axworthy to be saddled with a delicate wife."

"Well, I guess he needs some discipline, just as much as I do. I've had my share out of Miss Mary for the last three years, and I am quite willing to let somebody else have a turn. He walks into this thing with his eyes open. He knows her history."

"But does he know her disposition?"

"Let him find that out--if he can. Most mothers don't think it necessary to tell their daughters' suitors how the girls get on with them in the house."

"You say she has no const.i.tution. Supposing he does marry her, how about the possible children? What have they done that they should have Mary for a mother?"

"That's exactly the right way to put it--what have they done? We don't know, but they must have gone far astray last time, if they are given such a bad start this incarnation."