CHAPTER VIII.
_BREAKERS AHEAD._
Anxious to smooth the way for Phebe, Rose was up betimes, and slippedinto Aunt Plenty's room before the old lady had got her cap on.
"Aunty, I've something pleasant to tell you; and, while you listen,I'll brush your hair, as you like to have me," she began, well awarethat the proposed process was a very soothing one.
"Yes, dear: only don't be too particular, because I'm late and musthurry down, or Jane won't get things straight; and it does fidget meto have the salt-cellars uneven, the tea-strainer forgotten, and youruncle's paper not aired," returned Miss Plenty, briskly unrolling thetwo gray curls she wore at her temples.
Then Rose, brushing away at the scanty back-hair, led skilfully up tothe crisis of her tale by describing Phebe's panic and brave effortsto conquer it; all about the flowers Archie sent her; and how Steveforgot, and dear, thoughtful Archie took his place. So far it wentwell, and Aunt Plenty was full of interest, sympathy, and approbation;but when Rose added, as if it was quite a matter of course, "So, onthe way home, he told her he loved her," a great start twitched thegray locks out of her hands as the old lady turned round, with thelittle curls standing erect, exclaiming, in undisguised dismay,--
"Not seriously, Rose?"
"Yes, Aunty, very seriously. He never jokes about such things."
"Mercy on us! what _shall_ we do about it?"
"Nothing, ma'am, but be as glad as we ought, and congratulate him assoon as she says 'Yes.'"
"Do you mean to say she didn't accept at once?"
"She never will if we don't welcome her as kindly as if she belongedto one of our best families, and I don't blame her."
"I'm glad the girl has so much sense. Of course we can't do any thingof the sort; and I'm surprised at Archie's forgetting what he owes tothe family in this rash manner. Give me my cap, child: I must speak toAlec at once." And Aunt Plenty twisted her hair into a button at theback of her head with one energetic twirl.
"Do speak kindly, Aunty, and remember that it was not Phebe's fault.She never thought of this till very lately, and began at once toprepare for going away," said Rose, pleadingly.
"She ought to have gone long ago. I told Myra we should have troublesomewhere as soon as I saw what a good-looking creature she was; andhere it is as bad as can be. Dear, dear! why can't young people have alittle prudence?"
"I don't see that any one need object if Uncle Jem and Aunt Jessieapprove; and I do think it will be very, very unkind to scold poorPhebe for being well-bred, pretty, and good, after doing all we couldto make her so."
"Child, you don't understand these things yet; but you ought to feelyour duty toward your family, and do all you can to keep the name ashonorable as it always has been. What do you suppose our blessedancestress, Lady Marget, would say to our oldest boy taking a wifefrom the poor-house?"
As she spoke, Miss Plenty looked up, almost apprehensively, at one ofthe wooden-faced old portraits with which her room was hung, as ifasking pardon of the severe-nosed matron, who stared back at her fromunder the sort of blue dish-cover which formed her head-gear.
"As Lady Marget died about two hundred years ago, I don't care a pinwhat she would say; especially as she looks like a very narrow-minded,haughty woman. But I do care very much what Miss Plenty Campbell says;for _she_ is a very sensible, generous, discreet, and dear old lady,who wouldn't hurt a fly, much less a good and faithful girl who hasbeen a sister to me. Would she?" entreated Rose, knowing well that theelder aunt led all the rest more or less.
But Miss Plenty had her cap on now, and consequently felt herselftwice the woman she was without it; so she not only gave it a somewhatbelligerent air by setting it well up, but she shook her headdecidedly, smoothed down her stiff white apron, and stood up as ifready for battle.
"I shall do my duty, Rose, and expect the same of others. Don't sayany more now: I must turn the matter over in my mind; for it has comeupon me suddenly, and needs serious consideration."
With which unusually solemn address, she took up her keys and trottedaway, leaving her niece to follow with an anxious countenance,uncertain whether her championship had done good or ill to the causeshe had at heart.
She was much cheered by the sound of Phebe's voice in the study; forRose was sure that if Uncle Alec was on their side all would be well.But the clouds lowered again when they came in to breakfast: forPhebe's heavy eyes and pale cheeks did not look encouraging; while Dr.Alec was as sober as a judge, and sent an inquiring glance toward Rosenow and then as if curious to discover how she bore the news.
An uncomfortable meal, though all tried to seem as usual, and talkedover last night's events with all the interest they could. But the oldpeace was disturbed by a word, as a pebble thrown into a quiet poolsends tell-tale circles rippling its surface far and wide. AuntPlenty, while "turning the subject over in her mind," also seemedintent on upsetting every thing she touched, and made sad havoc in hertea-tray; Dr. Alec unsociably read his paper; Rose, having saltedinstead of sugared her oatmeal, absently ate it feeling that thesweetness had gone out of every thing; and Phebe, after choking down acup of tea and crumbling a roll, excused herself, and went away,sternly resolving not to be a bone of contention to this belovedfamily.
As soon as the door was shut, Rose pushed away her plate, and going toDr. Alec peeped over the paper with such an anxious face that he putit down at once.
"Uncle, this is a serious matter, and _we_ must take our stand atonce; for you are Phebe's guardian and I am her sister," began Rose,with pretty solemnity. "You have often been disappointed in me," shecontinued, "but I know I never shall be in you; because you are toowise and good to let any worldly pride or prudence spoil your sympathywith Archie and our Phebe. You won't desert them, will you?"
"Never!" answered Dr. Alec, with gratifying energy.
"Thank you! thank you!" cried Rose. "Now, if I have you and aunty onmy side, I'm not afraid of anybody."
"Gently, gently, child. I don't intend to desert the lovers; but Icertainly shall advise them to consider well what they are about. I'llown I _am_ rather disappointed; because Archie is young to decide hislife in this way, and Phebe's career seemed settled in anotherfashion. Old people don't like to have their plans upset, you know,"he added, more lightly; for Rose's face fell as he went on.
"Old people shouldn't plan too much for the young ones then. We arevery grateful, I'm sure; but we cannot always be disposed of in themost prudent and sensible way; so don't set your hearts on littlearrangements of that sort, I beg," and Rose looked wondrous wise; forshe could not help suspecting even her best uncle of "plans" in herbehalf.
"You are quite right: we shouldn't; yet it is very hard to help it,"confessed Dr. Alec, with a conscious air; and, returning hastily tothe lovers, he added kindly,--
"I was much pleased with the straightforward way in which Phebe cameto me this morning, and told me all about it, as if I really was herguardian. She did not own it in words: but it was perfectly evidentthat she loves Archie with all her heart; yet, knowing the objectionswhich will be made, very sensibly and bravely proposes to go away atonce, and end the matter,--as if that were possible, poor child," andthe tender-hearted man gave a sigh of sympathy that did Rose good tohear, and mollified her rising indignation at the bare idea of endingPhebe's love affairs in such a summary way.
"You don't think she ought to go, I hope?"
"I think she will go."
"We must not let her."
"We have no right to keep her."
"O uncle! surely we have! Our Phebe, whom we all love so much."
"You forget that she is a woman now, and we have no claim upon her.Because we've befriended her for years is the very reason we shouldnot make our benefits a burden, but leave her free; and, if shechooses to do this in spite of Archie, we must let her with aGod-speed."
Before Rose could answer, Aunt Plenty spoke out like one havingauthority; for old-fashioned ways were dear to her soul, and shethought even love affairs should
be conducted with a proper regard tothe powers that be.
"The family must talk the matter over and decide what is best for thechildren, who of course will listen to reason and do nothingill-advised. For my part, I am quite upset by the news, but shall notcommit myself till I've seen Jessie and the boy. Jane, clear away, andbring me the hot water."
That ended the morning conference; and, leaving the old lady to sootheher mind by polishing spoons and washing cups, Rose went away to findPhebe, while the doctor retired to laugh over the downfall of brotherMac's match-making schemes.
The Campbells did not gossip about their concerns in public; but,being a very united family, it had long been the custom to "talk over"any interesting event which occurred to any member thereof, and everyone gave his or her opinion, advice, or censure with the utmostcandor. Therefore the first engagement, if such it could be called,created a great sensation, among the aunts especially; and they werein as much of a flutter as a flock of maternal birds when their youngbegin to hop out of the nest. So at all hours the excellent ladieswere seen excitedly nodding their caps together, as they discussed theaffair in all its bearings, without ever arriving at any unanimousdecision.
The boys took it much more calmly. Mac was the only one who came outstrongly in Archie's favor. Charlie thought the Chief ought to dobetter, and called Phebe "a siren, who had bewitched the sage youth."Steve was scandalized, and delivered long orations upon one's duty tosociety, keeping the old name up, and the danger of _mesalliances_;while all the time he secretly sympathized with Archie, being muchsmitten with Kitty Van himself. Will and Geordie, unfortunately homefor the holidays, considered it "a jolly lark;" and little Jamienearly drove his elder brother distracted by curious inquiries as to"how folks felt when they were in love."
Uncle Mac's dismay was so comical that it kept Dr. Alec in goodspirits; for he alone knew how deep was the deluded man's chagrin atthe failure of the little plot which he fancied was prospering finely.
"I'll never set my heart on any thing of the sort again; and the youngrascals may marry whom they like. I'm prepared for any thing now: soif Steve brings home the washerwoman's daughter, and Mac runs awaywith our pretty chamber-maid, I shall say, 'Bless you my children,'with mournful resignation; for, upon my soul, that is all that's leftfor a modern parent to do."
With which tragic burst, poor Uncle Mac washed his hands of the wholeaffair, and buried himself in the counting-house while the stormraged.
About this time, Archie might have echoed Rose's childish wish, thatshe had not _quite_ so many aunts; for the tongues of those interestedrelatives made sad havoc with his little romance, and caused him tolong fervently for a desert island, where he could woo and win hislove in delicious peace. That nothing of the sort was possible soonbecame evident; since every word uttered only confirmed Phebe'sresolution to go away, and proved to Rose how mistaken she had been inbelieving that she could bring every one to her way of thinking.
Prejudices are unmanageable things; and the good aunts, like mostwomen, possessed a plentiful supply: so Rose found it like beating herhead against a wall to try and convince them that Archie was wise inloving poor Phebe. His mother, who had hoped to have Rose for herdaughter,--not because of her fortune, but the tender affection shefelt for her,--put away her disappointment without a word, andwelcomed Phebe as kindly as she could for her boy's sake. But the girlfelt the truth with the quickness of a nature made sensitive by love,and clung to her resolve all the more tenaciously, though grateful forthe motherly words that would have been so sweet if genuine happinesshad prompted them.
Aunt Jane called it romantic nonsense, and advised strongmeasures,--"kind, but firm, Jessie." Aunt Clara was sadly distressedabout "what people would say" if one of "our boys" married a nobody'sdaughter. And Aunt Myra not only seconded her views by paintingportraits of Phebe's unknown relations in the darkest colors, bututtered direful prophecies regarding the disreputable beings who wouldstart up in swarms the moment the girl made a good match.
These suggestions so wrought upon Aunt Plenty that she turned a deafear to the benevolent emotions native to her breast, and takingrefuge behind "our blessed ancestress, Lady Marget," refused tosanction any engagement which could bring discredit upon the stainlessname which was her pride.
So it all ended where it began; for Archie steadily refused to listento any one but Phebe, and she as steadily reiterated her bitter "No;"fortifying herself half unconsciously with the hope that, by and by,when she had won a name, fate might be kinder.
While the rest talked, she had been working; for every hour showed herthat her instinct had been a true one, and pride would not let herstay, though love pleaded eloquently. So, after a Christmas any thingbut merry, Phebe packed her trunks, rich in gifts from those whogenerously gave her all but the one thing she desired; and, with apocketful of letters to people who could further her plans, she wentaway to seek her fortune, with a brave face and a very heavy heart.
"Write often, and let me know all you do, my Phebe; and remember Ishall never be contented till you come back again," whispered Rose,clinging to her till the last.
"She _will_ come back; for in a year I'm going to bring her home,please God," said Archie, pale with the pain of parting, but asresolute as she.
"I'll earn my welcome: then perhaps it will be easier for them to giveand me to receive it," answered Phebe, with a backward glance at thegroup of caps in the hall, as she went down the steps on Dr. Alec'sarm.
"You earned it long ago, and it is always waiting for you while I amhere. Remember that, and God bless you, my good girl," he said, with apaternal kiss that warmed her heart.
"I never shall forget it!" and Phebe never did.