CHAPTER XI.
_SMALL TEMPTATIONS._
"O Rose, I've got something so exciting to tell you!" cried Kitty VanTassel, skipping into the carriage next morning when her friend calledfor her to go shopping.
Kitty always did have some "perfectly thrilling" communication tomake, and Rose had learned to take them quietly: but the nextdemonstration was a new one; for, regardless alike of curiousobservers outside and disordered hats within, Kitty caught Rose roundthe neck, exclaiming in a rapturous whisper,--
"My dearest creature, I'm engaged!"
"I'm so glad! Of course it is Steve?"
"Dear fellow, he did it last night in the nicest way, and mamma is_so_ delighted. Now what _shall_ I be married in?" and Kitty composedherself with a face full of the deepest anxiety.
"How can you talk of that so soon? Why, Kit, you unromantic girl, youought to be thinking of your lover and not your clothes," said Rose,amused, yet rather scandalized at such want of sentiment.
"I _am_ thinking of my lover; for he says he will _not_ have a longengagement, so I _must_ begin to think about the most important thingsat once, mustn't I?"
"Ah, he wants to be sure of you; for you are such a slippery creaturehe is afraid you'll treat him as you did poor Jackson and the rest,"interrupted Rose, shaking her finger at her prospective cousin, whohad tried this pastime twice before, and was rather proud thanotherwise of her brief engagements.
"You needn't scold, for I know I'm right; and, when you've been insociety as long as I have, you'll find that the only way to reallyknow a man is to be engaged to him. While they want you, they are alldevotion; but when they think they've got you, then you find out whatwretches they are," answered Kitty, with an air of worldly wisdomwhich contrasted oddly with her youthful face and giddy manners.
"A sad prospect for poor Steve, unless I give him a hint to look wellto his ways."
"O my dear child, I'm sure of him; for my experience has made me verysharp, and I'm convinced I can manage him without a bit of trouble.We've known each other for ages" (Steve was twenty and Kittyeighteen), "and always been the best of friends. Besides he is quitemy ideal man: I never _could_ bear big hands and feet, and his aresimply adorable. Then he's the best dancer I know, and dresses inperfect taste. I really do believe I fell in love with hispocket-handkerchiefs first; they were so enchanting I couldn'tresist," laughed Kitty, pulling a large one out of her pocket, andburying her little nose in the folds, which shed a delicious fragranceupon the air.
"Now that looks promising, and I begin to think you _have_ got alittle sentiment after all," said Rose, well pleased; for the merrybrown eyes had softened suddenly, and a quick color came up in Kitty'scheek, as she answered, still half hiding her face in the belovedhandkerchief,--
"Of course I have, lots of it; only I'm ashamed to show it to mostpeople, because it's the style to take every thing in the mostnonchalant way. My gracious, Rose, you'd have thought me a romanticgoose last night while Steve proposed in the back parlor: for Iactually cried; he was so dreadfully in earnest when I pretended thatI didn't care for him, and so very dear and nice when I told thetruth. I didn't know he had it in him; but he came out delightfully,and never cared a particle, though I dropped tears all over his lovelyshirt-front. Wasn't that good of him? for you know he hates his thingsto be mussed."
"He's a true Campbell, and has got a good warm heart of his own underthose fine fronts of his. Aunt Jane doesn't believe in sentiment, sohe has been trained never to show any: but it is there, and you mustencourage him to let it out; not foolishly, but in a way to make himmore manly and serious."
"I will if I can; for, though I wouldn't own this to everybody, I likeit in him very much, and feel as if Steve and I should get onbeautifully. Here we are: now be sure not to breathe a word if we meetany one; I want it to be a profound secret for a week at least," addedKitty, whisking the handkerchief out of sight, as the carriage stoppedbefore the fashionable store they were about to visit.
Rose promised with a smile; for Kitty's face betrayed her withoutwords, so full was it of the happiness which few eyes fail tounderstand wherever they see it.
"Just a glance at the silks. You ask my opinion about white ones, andI'll look at the colors. Mamma says satin; but that is out now, andI've set my heart on the heaviest corded thing I can find," whisperedKitty, as they went rustling by the long counters strewn with all thatcould delight the feminine eye, and tempt the feminine pocket.
"Isn't that opal the loveliest thing you ever saw? I'm afraid I'm toodark to wear it, but it would just suit you. You'll need a variety youknow," added Kitty in a significant aside, as Rose stood among thewhite silks, while her companion affected great interest in thedelicate hues laid before her.
"But I have a variety now, and don't need a new dress of any sort."
"No matter, get it; else it will be gone: you've worn all yoursseveral times already, and _must_ have a new one whether you need itor not. Dear me! if I had as much pocket-money as you have, I'd comeout in a fresh toilet at every party I went to," answered Kitty,casting an envious eye upon the rainbow piles before her.
The quick-witted shopman saw that a wedding was afoot; for when twopretty girls whisper, smile, and blush over their shopping, clerksscent bridal finery, and a transient gleam of interest brightens theirimperturbable countenances, and lends a brief energy to languid voicesweary with crying "Cash!" Gathering both silks with a practised turnof the hand, he held them up for inspection, detecting at a glancewhich was the bride-elect and which the friend; for Kitty fell back tostudy the effect of the silvery white folds with an absorbing interestimpossible to mistake, while Rose sat looking at the opal as if shescarcely heard a bland voice saying, with the rustle of silk so dearto girlish ears,--
"A superb thing; just opened; all the rage in Paris; very rare shade;trying to most, as the lady says, but quite perfect for a blonde."
Rose was not listening to those words, but to others which Aunt Clarahad lately uttered; laughed at then, but thought over more than oncesince.
"I'm tired of hearing people wonder why Miss Campbell does not dressmore. Simplicity is all very well for school-girls and women who can'tafford any thing better, but _you_ can, and you really ought. Yourthings are pretty enough in their way, and I rather like you to have astyle of your own; but it looks odd, and people will think you aremean if you don't make more show. Besides, you don't do justice toyour beauty, which would be both peculiar and striking, if you'ddevote your mind to getting up ravishing costumes."
Much more to the same effect did her aunt say, discussing the subjectquite artistically, and unconsciously appealing to several of Rose'sruling passions. One was a love for the delicate fabrics, colors, andornaments which refined tastes enjoy, and whose costliness keeps themfrom ever growing common; another, her strong desire to please theeyes of those she cared for, and gratify their wishes in the smallestmatter if she could. And last, but not least, the natural desire of ayoung and pretty woman to enhance the beauty which she so soondiscovers to be her most potent charm for the other sex, her passportto a high place among her maiden peers.
She had thought seriously of surprising and delighting every one, byappearing in a costume which should do justice to the loveliness whichwas so modest that it was apt to forget itself in admiringothers,--what girls call a "ravishing" dress, such as she couldimagine and easily procure by the magic of the Fortunatus' purse inher pocket. She had planned it all; the shimmer of pale silk throughlace like woven frost-work, ornaments of some classic pattern, and allthe dainty accessaries as perfect as time, taste, and money could makethem.
She knew that Uncle Alec's healthful training had given her a figurethat could venture on any fashion, and Nature blessed her with acomplexion that defied all hues. So it was little wonder that she felta strong desire to use these gifts, not for the pleasure of display,but to seem fair in the eyes that seldom looked at her without atender sort of admiration, all the more winning when no words marredthe involuntary ho
mage women love.
These thoughts were busy in Rose's mind, as she sat looking at thelovely silk, and wondering what Charlie would say if she should somenight burst upon him in a pale, rosy cloud, like the Aurora to whom heoften likened her. She knew it would please him very much, and shelonged to do all she honestly could to gratify the poor fellow; forher tender heart already felt some remorseful pangs, remembering howsevere she had been the night before. She could not revoke her words,because she meant them every one; but she might be kind, and show thatshe did not wholly shut him out from her regard, by asking him to gowith her to Kitty's ball, and gratify his artistic taste by a lovelycostume. A very girlish but kindly plan; for that ball was to be thelast of her frivolities, so she wanted it to be a pleasant one, andfelt that "being friends" with Charlie would add much to herenjoyment. This idea made her fingers tighten on the gleaming fabricso temptingly upheld, and she was about to take it when, "If yeplease, sir, would ye kindly tell me where I'd be finding the flannelplace?" said a voice behind her; and, glancing up, she saw a meeklittle Irish-woman looking quite lost and out of place among theluxuries around her.
"Downstairs, turn to the left," was the clerk's hasty reply, with avague wave of the hand which left the inquirer more in the dark thanever.
Rose saw the woman's perplexity, and said kindly, "I'll show you: thisway."
"I'm ashamed to be throublin' ye, miss; but it's strange I am in it,and wouldn't be comin' here at all, at all, barrin' they tould me I'dget the bit I'm wantin' chaper in this big shop than the little onesmore becomin' the like o' me," explained the little woman humbly.
Rose looked again, as she led the way through a well-dressed crowd ofbusy shoppers: and something in the anxious, tired face under the oldwoollen hood; the bare, purple hands, holding fast a meagre wallet anda faded scrap of the dotted flannel little children's frocks are sooften made of,--touched the generous heart, that never could see wantwithout an impulse to relieve it. She had meant only to point the way;but, following a new impulse, she went on, listening to the poorsoul's motherly prattle about "me baby," and the "throuble" it was to"find clothes for the growin' childer, when me man is out av work, andthe bit and sup inconvaynient these hard times," as they descended tothat darksome lower world, where necessities take refuge when luxuriescrowd them out from the gayer place above.
The presence of a lady made Mrs. Sullivan's shopping very easy now;and her one poor "bit" of flannel grew miraculously into yards ofseveral colors, since the shabby purse was no lighter when she wentaway, wiping her eyes on the corner of a big, brown bundle. A verylittle thing, and no one saw it but a wooden-faced clerk, who nevertold; yet it did Rose good, and sent her up into the light again witha sober face, thinking self-reproachfully,--
"What right have I to more gay gowns, when some poor babies have none;or to spend time making myself fine, while there is so much bitterwant in the world?"
Nevertheless the pretty things were just as tempting as ever, and sheyearned for the opal silk with a renewed yearning when she got back. Iam not sure that it would not have been bought in spite of her betterself, if a good angel in the likeness of a stout lady with silverycurls about the benevolent face, enshrined in a plain bonnet, had notaccosted her as she joined Kitty, still brooding over the weddinggowns.
"I waited a moment for you, my dear, because I'm in haste, and veryglad to save myself a journey or a note," began the newcomer in a lowtone, as Rose shook hands with the most affectionate respect. "Youknow the great box factory was burned a day or two ago, and over ahundred girls thrown out of work. Some were hurt and are in thehospital, many have no homes to go to, and nearly all need temporaryhelp of some sort. We've had so many calls this winter I hardly knowwhich way to turn; for the want is pressing, and I've had my finger inso many purses I'm almost ashamed to ask again. Any littlecontribution--ah, thank you; I was sure you wouldn't fail me, my goodchild," and Mrs. Gardener warmly pressed the hand that went so quicklyinto the little portemonnaie, and came out so generously filled.
"Let me know how else I can help, and thank you very much for allowingme to have a share in your good works," said Rose, forgetting allabout gay gowns, as she watched the black bonnet go briskly away, withan approving smile on the fine old face inside it.
"You extravagant thing! how could you give so much?" whispered Kitty,whose curious eye had seen three figures on the single bill which hadso rapidly changed hands.
"I believe if Mrs. Gardener asked me for my head I should give it toher," answered Rose lightly; then turning to the silks she asked,"Which have you decided upon; the yellow white or the blue, the cordedor the striped?"
"I've decided nothing, except that _you_ are to have the pink, andwear it at my--ahem! ball," said Kitty, who _had_ made up her mind,but could not give her orders till mamma had been consulted.
"No, I can't afford it just yet. I never overstep my allowance, and Ishall have to if I get any more finery. Come, we ought not to wastetime here, if you have all the patterns you want," and Rose walkedquickly away, glad that it was out of her power to break through tworesolutions which hitherto had been faithfully kept,--one to dresssimply for example's sake, the other not to be extravagant forcharity's sake.
As Rosamond had her day of misfortunes, so this seemed to be one ofsmall temptations to Rose. After she had set Kitty down at home andbeen to see her new houses, she drove about doing various errands forthe aunts; and, while waiting in the carriage for the execution of anorder, young Pemberton came by.
As Steve said, this gentleman had been "hard hit," and still hoveredmoth-like about the forbidden light. Being the most eligible _parti_of the season, his regard was considered a distinction to be proud of;and Rose had been well scolded by Aunt Clara for refusing so honorablea mate. The girl liked him; and he was the suitor of whom she hadspoken so respectfully to Dr. Alec, because he had no need of theheiress, and had sincerely loved the woman. He had been away, and shehoped had got over his disappointment as happily as the rest; but nowwhen he saw her, and came hurrying up so hungry for a word, she feltthat he had not forgotten, and was too kind to chill him with the bowwhich plainly says, "Don't stop."
A personable youth was Pemberton, and had brought with him from thewilds of Canada a sable-lined overcoat, which was the envy of everymasculine and the admiration of every feminine friend he had; and, ashe stood at her carriage window, Rose knew that this luxurious garmentand its stalwart wearer were objects of interest to the passers-by. Itchanced that the tide of shoppers flowed in that direction; and, asshe chatted, familiar faces often passed with glances, smiles, andnods of varying curiosity, significance, and wonder.
She could not help feeling a certain satisfaction in giving him amoment's pleasure, since she could do no more; but it was not thatamiable desire alone which made her ignore the neat white parcelswhich the druggist's boy deposited on the front seat, and kept herlingering a little longer to enjoy one of the small triumphs whichgirls often risk more than a cold in the head to display. The sight ofseveral snow-flakes on the broad shoulders which partially obstructedher view, as well as the rapidly increasing animation of Pemberton'schat, reminded her that it was high time to go.
"I mustn't keep you: it is beginning to storm," she said, taking upher muff, much to old Jacob's satisfaction; for small talk is notexciting to a hungry man whose nose feels like an icicle.
"Is it? I thought the sun was shining." And the absorbed gentlemanturned to the outer world with visible reluctance, for it looked verywarm and cosey in the red-lined carriage.
"Wise people say we must carry our sunshine with us," answered Rose,taking refuge in commonplaces; for the face at the window grew pensivesuddenly, as he answered, with a longing look,--
"I wish I could:" then, smiling gratefully, he added, "Thank you forgiving me a little of yours."
"You are very welcome." And Rose offered him her hand, while her eyesmutely asked pardon for withholding her leave to keep it.
He pressed it silently, and, shouldering
the umbrella which he forgotto open, turned away, with an "up-again-and-take-another" expression,which caused the soft eyes to follow him admiringly.
"I ought not to have kept him a minute longer than I could help: forit wasn't all pity; it was my foolish wish to show off and do as Iliked for a minute, to pay for being good about the gown. Oh me! howweak and silly I am in spite of all my trying!" And Miss Campbell fellinto a remorseful reverie, which lasted till she got home.
"Now, young man, what brought you out in this driving storm?" askedRose, as Jamie came stamping in that same afternoon.
"Mamma sent you a new book,--thought you'd like it: _I_ don't mindyour old storms!" replied the boy, wrestling his way out of his coat,and presenting a face as round and red and shiny as a well-polishedBaldwin apple.
"Much obliged: it is just the day to enjoy it, and I was longing forsomething nice to read," said Rose, as Jamie sat down upon the lowerstair for a protracted struggle with his rubber boots.
"Here you are, then--no--yes--I do believe I've forgotten it, afterall!" cried Jamie, slapping his pockets one after the other, with adismayed expression of countenance.
"Never mind: I'll hunt up something else. Let me help with those: yourhands are so cold." And Rose, good-naturedly gave a tug at the boots,while Jamie clutched the banisters; murmuring somewhat incoherently,as his legs flew up and down,--
"I'll go back if you want me to. I'm so sorry! It's very good of you,I'm sure. Getting these horrid things on made me forget. Mother wouldmake me wear 'em, though I told her they'd stick like--like gumdrops,"he added, inspired by recollections of certain dire disappointmentswhen the above-mentioned sweetmeat melted in his pockets, and refusedto come out.
"Now what shall we do?" asked Rose, when he was finally extricated."Since I've nothing to read, I may as well play."
"I'll teach you to pitch and toss. You catch very well for a girl, butyou can't throw worth a cent," replied Jamie, gambading down the hallin his slippers, and producing a ball from some of the mysteriousreceptacles in which boys have the art of storing rubbish enough tofill a peck measure.
Of course Rose agreed, and cheerfully risked getting her eyesblackened and her fingers bruised, till her young preceptor gratefullyobserved that "it was no fun playing where you had to look out forwindows and jars and things; so I'd like that jolly book about CaptainNemo and the 'Nautilus,' please."
Being gratified, he spread himself upon the couch, crossed his legs inthe air, and without another word dived "Twenty Thousand Leagues Underthe Sea," where he remained for two mortal hours, to the generalsatisfaction of his relatives.
Bereft both of her unexpected playfellow and the much-desired book,Rose went into the parlor, there to discover a French novel, whichKitty had taken from a library and left in the carriage among thebundles. Settling herself in her favorite lounging-chair, she read asdiligently as Jamie, while the wind howled and snow fell fast without.
For an hour, nothing disturbed the cosey quiet of the house; for AuntPlenty was napping upstairs, and Dr. Alec writing in his own sanctum;at least, Rose thought so, till his step made her hastily drop thebook, and look up with very much the expression she used to wear whencaught in mischief years ago.
"Did I startle you? Have a screen: you are burning your face beforethis hot fire." And Dr. Alec pulled one forward.
"Thank you, uncle; I didn't feel it." And the color seemed to deepenin spite of the screen, while the uneasy eyes fell upon the book inher lap.
"Have you got the 'Quarterly' there? I want to glance at an article init, if you can spare it for a moment," he said, leaning toward herwith an inquiring glance.
"No, sir: I am reading--" And, without mentioning the name, Rose putthe book into his hand.
The instant his eye fell on the title, he understood the look shewore, and knew what "mischief" she had been in. He knit his brows:then smiled, because it was impossible to help it; Rose looked soconscience-stricken in spite of her twenty years.
"How do you find it?--interesting?"
"Oh, very! I felt as if I was in another world, and forgot all aboutthis."
"Not a very good world, I fancy, if you were afraid or ashamed to befound in it. Where did this come from?" asked Dr. Alec, surveying thebook with great disfavor.
Rose told him, and added slowly,--
"I particularly wanted to read it, and fancied I might, because youdid when it was so much talked about the winter we were in Rome."
"I did read it to see if it was fit for you."
"And decided that it was not, I suppose; since you never gave it tome?"
"Yes."
"Then I won't finish it. But, uncle, I don't see why I should not,"added Rose, wistfully; for she had reached the heart of the romanceand found it wonderfully fascinating.
"You may not _see_, but don't you _feel_ why not?" asked Dr. Alec,gravely.
Rose leaned her flushed cheek on her hand and thought a minute; thenlooked up, and answered honestly,--
"Yes, I do: but can't explain it; except that I know something _must_be wrong, because I blushed and started when you came in."
"Exactly," and the doctor gave an emphatic nod, as if the symptomspleased him.
"But I really don't see any harm in the book so far. It is by a famousauthor, wonderfully well written as you know, and the characters solife-like that I feel as if I should really meet them somewhere."
"I hope not!" ejaculated the doctor, shutting the book quickly, as ifto keep the objectionable beings from escaping.
Rose laughed, but persisted in her defence; for she did want tofinish the absorbing story, yet would not without leave.
"I have read French novels before, and you gave them to me. Not manyto be sure, but the best; so I think I know what is good, andshouldn't like this if it was harmful."
Her uncle's answer was to reopen the volume and turn the leaves aninstant as if to find a particular place; then he put it into herhand, saying quietly,--
"Read a page or two aloud, translating as you go. You used to likethat: try it again."
Rose obeyed, and went glibly down a page, doing her best to give thesense in her purest English. Presently she went more slowly, thenskipped a sentence here and there, and finally stopped short, lookingas if she needed a screen again.
"What's the matter?" asked her uncle, who had been watching her with aserious eye.
"Some phrases are untranslatable, and it only spoils them to try. Theyare not amiss in French, but sound coarse and bad in our bluntEnglish," she said a little pettishly; for she felt annoyed by herfailure to prove the contested point.
"Ah, my dear! if the fine phrases won't bear putting into honestEnglish, the thoughts they express won't bear putting into yourinnocent mind. That chapter is the key to the whole book; and if youhad been led up, or rather down, to it artfully and artistically, youmight have read it to yourself without seeing how bad it is. All theworse for the undeniable talent which hides the evil so subtly andmakes the danger so delightful."
He paused a moment, then added with an anxious glance at the book,over which she was still bending,--
"Finish it if you choose: only remember, my girl, that one may read atforty what is unsafe at twenty, and that we never can be too carefulwhat food we give that precious yet perilous thing calledimagination."
And taking his "Review" he went away to look over a learned articlewhich interested him much less than the workings of a young mind nearby.
Another long silence, broken only by an occasional excited bounce fromJamie, when the sociable cuttle-fish looked in at the windows, or the"Nautilus" scuttled a ship or two in its terrific course. A bell rang,and the doctor popped his head out to see if he was wanted. It wasonly a message for Aunt Plenty, and he was about to pop in again whenhis eye was caught by a square parcel on the slab.
"What's this?" he asked, taking it up.
"Rose wants me to leave it at Kitty Van's when I go. I forgot to bringher book from mamma; so I shall go and get it as soon as ever I'vedone
this," replied Jamie, from his nest.
As the volume in his hands was a corpulent one, and Jamie only a thirdof the way through, Dr. Alec thought Rose's prospect rather doubtful;and, slipping the parcel into his pocket, he walked away, saying witha satisfied air,--
"Virtue doesn't always get rewarded; but it shall be this time, if Ican do it."
More than half an hour afterward, Rose woke from a little nap, andfound the various old favorites, with which she had tried to solaceherself, replaced by the simple, wholesome story promised by AuntJessie.
"Good boy! I'll go and thank him," she said, half-aloud; jumping up,wide awake and much pleased.
But she did not go; for, just then, she espied her uncle standing onthe rug warming his hands with a generally fresh and breezy look abouthim, which suggested a recent struggle with the elements.
"How did this come?" she asked suspiciously.
"A man brought it."
"This man? O uncle! why did you take so much trouble just to gratify awish of mine?" she cried, taking both the cold hands in hers, with atenderly reproachful glance from the storm without to the ruddy faceabove her.
"Because, having taken away your French bonbons with the poisonouscolor on them, I wanted to get you something better. Here it is, allpure sugar; the sort that sweetens the heart as well as the tongue,and leaves no bad taste behind."
"How good you are to me! I don't deserve it; for I didn't resisttemptation, though I tried. Uncle, after I'd put the book away, Ithought I _must_ just see how it ended, and I'm afraid I should haveread it all if it had not been gone," said Rose, laying her face downon the hands she held, as humbly as a repentant child.
But Uncle Alec lifted up the bent head, and looking into the eyes thatmet his frankly, though either held a tear, he said, with the energythat always made his words remembered,--
"My little girl, I would face a dozen storms far worse than this tokeep your soul as stainless as snow; for it is the small temptationswhich undermine integrity, unless we watch and pray, and never thinkthem too trivial to be resisted."
Some people would consider Dr. Alec an over-careful man: but Rose feltthat he was right; and, when she said her prayers that night, added ameek petition to be kept from yielding to three of the small temptationswhich beset a rich, pretty, and romantic girl,--extravagance, coquetry,and novel-reading.