MARIAN waited for her father's return, having been much too deeplyexcited for the speedy advent of quiet sleep. When at last he cameshe told him everything. As she described the first part of theinterview his brow darkened, but his face softened as she drewtoward the close. When she ceased he said:--
"Don't you see I was right in saying that your own tact would guideyou better than my reason? If I, instead of your own nature, haddirected you, we should have made an awful mess of it. Now let methink a moment. This young fellow has suggested an idea to me,--ageneral line of action which I think you can carry out. There isnothing like a good definite plan,--not cast-iron, you know, butflexible and modified by circumstances as you go along, yet soclear and defined as to give you something to aim at. Confound it,that's what's the matter with our military authorities. If McClellanis a ditch-digger let them put a general in command; or, if heis a general, give him what he wants and let him alone. There isno head, no plan. I confess, however, that just now I am chieflyinterested in your campaigns, which, after all, stand the best chanceof bringing about union, in spite of your negative mood manifestedto-night. Nature will prove too strong for you, and some day--soonprobably--you will conquer, only to surrender yourself. Be that asit may, the plan I suggest need not be interfered with. Be patient.I'm only following the tactics in vogue,--taking the longest wayaround to the point to be attacked. Lane said that if you carriedout your present principle of action you would have a power possessedby few. I think he is right. I'm not flattering you. Little powerof any kind can co-exist with vanity. The secret of your fascinationis chiefly in your individuality. There are other girls more beautifuland accomplished who have not a tithe of it. Now and then a womanis peculiarly gifted with the power to influence men,--strong men,too. You had this potency in no slight degree when neither yourheart nor your brain was very active. You will find that it willincrease with time, and if you are wise it will be greater whenyou are sixty than at present. If you avoid the Scylla of vanityon the one hand, and the Charybdis of selfishness on the other, andif the sympathies of your heart keep pace with a cultivated mind,you will steadily grow in social influence. I believe it for thisreason: A weak girl would have been sentimental with Lane, would haveyielded temporarily, either to his entreaty or to his anger, onlyto disappoint him in the end, or else would have been conventionalin her refusal and so sent him to the bad, probably. You recognizedjust what you could be to him, and had the skill--nature, rather,for all was unpremeditated--to obtain an influence by which youcan incite him to a better manhood and a greater success, perhaps,than if he were your accepted lover. Forgive this long preamble:I am thinking aloud and feeling my way, as it were. What did youask him to promise? Why, to make the most and best of himself.Why not let this sentence suggest the social scheme of your life?Drop fellows who have neither brains nor heart,--no good mettlein them,--and so far as you have influence strive to inspire theothers to make the most and best of themselves. You would not findthe kitchen-maid a rival on this plan of life; nor indeed, I regretto say, many of your natural associates. Outwardly your life willappear much the same, but your motive will change everything, andflow through all your action like a mountain spring, rendering itimpossible for you to poison any life."
"O papa, the very possibility of what you suggest makes life appearbeautiful. The idea of a convent!"
"Convents are the final triumph of idiocy. If bad women could beshut up and made to say prayers most of the time, no harm at leastwould be done,--the good, problematical; but to immure a woman ofsweet, natural, God-bestowed impulses is the devil's worst practicaljoke in this world. Come, little girl, it's late. Think over thescheme; try it as you have a chance; use your power to incite men tomake the most and best of themselves. This is better than levyingyour little tribute of flattery and attention, like other belles,--aphase of life as common as cobble-stones and as old as vanity. Forinstance, you have an artist among your friends. Possibly you canmake him a better artist and a better fellow in every way. Drop allmuffs and sticks; don't waste yourself on them. Have considerablecharity for some of the wild fellows, none for their folly, and fromthe start tolerate no tendencies toward sentimentality. You willfind that the men who admire girls bent on making eyes rather thanmaking men will soon disappear. Sensible fellows won't misunderstandyou, even though prompted to more than friendship; and you will havea circle of friends of which any woman might be proud. Of courseyou will find at times that unspoken negatives will not satisfy;but if a woman has tact, good sense, and sincerity, her position isimpregnable. As long as she is not inclined to love a man herself,she can, by a mere glance, not only define her position, butdefend it. By simple dignity and reserve she can say to all, 'Thusfar and no farther.' If, without encouragement, any one seeks tobreak through this barrier he meets a quiet negative which he mustrespect, and in his heart does respect. Now, little girl, to sum upyour visit, with its long talks and their dramatic and unexpectedillustration, I see nothing to prevent you from going forward andmaking the best and most of your life according to nature and truth.You have a good start, and a rather better chance than falls tothe lot of the majority."
"Truly," said Marian, thoughtfully, "we don't appear to grow oldand change by time so much as by what happens,--by what we thinkand feel. Everything appears changed, including you and myself."
"It's more in appearance than in reality. You will find the impetusof your old life so strong that it will be hard even to change thedirection of the current. You will be much the same outwardly, asI said before. The stream will flow through the same channel ofcharacteristic traits and habits. The vital change must be in thestream itself,--the motive from which life springs."
How true her father's words seemed on the following evening afterher return! Her mother, as she sat down, to their dainty littledinner, looked as if her serenity had been undisturbed by a singleperplexing thought during the past few days. There was the sameelegant, yet rather youthful costume for a lady of her years; thesame smiling face, not yet so full in its outline as to have lostall its girlish beauty. It was marred by few evidences of care andtrouble, nor was it spiritualized by thought or deep experience.
Marian observed her closely, not with any disposition towards coldor conscious criticism, but in order that she might better understandthe conditions of her own life. She also had a wakening curiosityto know just what her mother was to her father and he to her. Thehope was forming that she could make them more to each other. Shehad too much tact to believe that this could be done by generalexhortations. If anything was to be accomplished it must be bymethods so fine and unobtrusive as to be scarcely recognized.
Her father's inner life had been a revelation to her, and she wasled to query: "Why does not mamma understand it? CAN she understandit?" Therefore she listened attentively to the details of what hadhappened in her absence. She waited in vain for any searching andintelligent questions concerning the absent husband. Beyond thathe was well, and that everything about the house was just as shehad left it, Mrs. Vosburgh appeared to have no interest. She wasvoluble over little household affairs, the novel that just thenabsorbed her, and especially the callers and their chagrin atfinding the young girl absent.
"Only the millionnaire widower remained any length of time whenlearning that you were away," said the lady, "and he spent most ofthe evening with me. I assure you he is a very nice, entertainingold fellow."
"How did he entertain you? What did he talk about?"
"Let me remember. Now I think of it, what didn't he talk about? Heis one of the most agreeable gossips I ever met,--knows everybodyand everything. He has at his finger-ends the history of all whowere belles in my time, and" (complacently) "I find that few havedone better than I, while some, with all their opportunities, chosevery crooked sticks."
"You are right, mamma. It seems to me that neither of us halfappreciates papa. He works right on so quietly and steadily, andyet he is not a machine, but a man."
"Oh, I appreciate him. Nine out of ten t
hat he might have marriedwould have made him no end of trouble. I don't make him any. Well,after talking about the people we used to know, Mr. Lanniere begana tirade against the times and the war, which he says have cost hima hundred thousand dollars; but he took care in a quiet way to letme know that he has a good many hundred thousands left. I declare,Marian, you might do a great deal worse."
"Do you not think I might do a great deal better?" the young girlasked, with a frown.
"I have no doubt you think so. Girls will be romantic. I was,myself; but as one goes on in life one finds that a million, moreor less, is a very comfortable fact. Mr. Lanniere has a fine housein town, but he's a great traveller, and an habitue of the besthotels of this country and Europe. You could see the world withhim on its golden side."
"Well, mamma, I want a man,--not an habitue. What's more, I mustbe in love with the man, or he won't stand the ghost of a chance.So you see the prospects are that you will have me on your handsindefinitely. Mr. Lanniere, indeed! What should I be but a part ofhis possessions,--another expensive luxury in his luxurious life?I want a man like papa,--earnest, large-brained, and large-hearted,--who,instead of inveighing against the times, is absorbed in the vitalquestions of the day, and is doing his part to solve them rightly.I would like to take Mr. Lanniere into a military hospital orcemetery, and show him what the war has cost other men."
"Why, Marian, how you talk!"
"I wish I could make you know how I feel. It seems to me that onehas only to think a little and look around in order to feel deeply.I read of an awful battle while coming up in the cars. We havebeen promised, all the spring, that Richmond would be taken, thewar ended, and all go on serenely again; but it doesn't look likeit."
"What's the use of women distressing themselves with such things?"said Mrs. Vosburgh, irritably. "I can't bear to think of war andits horrors, except as they give spice to a story. Our whole troubleis a big political squabble, and you know I detest politics. Itis just as Mr. Lanniere says,--if our people had only let slaveryalone all would have gone on veil. The leaders on both sides willfind out before the summer is over that they have gone too farand fast, and they had better settle their differences with wordsrather than blows. We shall all be shaking hands ana making upbefore Christmas."
"Papa doesn't think so."
"Your father is a German at heart. He has the sense to be practicalabout every-day affairs and enjoy a good dinner, but he amuseshimself with cloudy speculations and ideals and vast questionsabout the welfare of the world, or the 'trend of the centuries,'as he said one day to me. I always try to laugh him out of suchvague nonsense. Has he been talking to you about the 'trend of thecenturies'?"
"No, mamma, he has not," replied Marian, gravely; "but if he doesI shall try to understand what he means and be interested. I knowthat papa feels deeply about the war, and means to take the mosteffective part in it that he can, and that he does not think itwill end so easily as you believe. These facts make me feel anxious,for I know how resolute papa is."
"He has no right to take any risks," said the lady, emphatically.
"He surely has the same right that other men have."
"Oh, well," concluded Mrs. Vosburgh, with a shrug, "there is no usein borrowing trouble. When it comes to acting, instead of dreamingand speculating on vast, misty questions, I can always talk yourfather into good sense. That is the best thing about him,--he iswell-balanced, in spite of his tendency to theories. When I showhim that a thing is quixotic he laughs, shrugs his shoulders, andgood-naturedly goes on in the even tenor of his way. It was theluckiest thing in the world for him when he married me, for I soonlearned his weak points, and have ever guarded him against them.As a result he has had a quiet, prosperous career. If he wishes toserve the government in some civilian capacity, and is well paidfor it, why shouldn't he? But I would never hear of his going tothe front, fighting, and marching in Virginia mud and swamps. Ifhe ever breathes such a thought to you, I hope you will aid me inshowing him how cruel and preposterous it is."
Marian sighed, as she thought: "I now begin to see how well papaunderstands mamma, but has she any gauge by which to measure him?I fear he has found his home lonely, in spite of good dinners."
"Come, my dear," resumed Mrs. Vosburgh, "we are lingering too long.Some of your friends may be calling soon, although I said I didnot know whether you would be at home to-night or not. Mr. Lannierewill be very likely to come, for I am satisfied that he has seriousintentions. What's more, you might do worse,--a great deal worse."
"Three times you have said that, mamma, and I don't like it," saidMarian, a little indignantly. "Of course I might do worse; I mightkill him, and I should be tempted to if I married him. You knowthat I do not care for him, and he knows it, too. Indeed, I scarcelyrespect him. You don't realize what you are saying, for you wouldnot have me act from purely mercenary motives?"
"Oh, certainly not; but Mr. Lanniere is not a monster or a decrepitcentenarian. He is still in his prime, and is a very agreeable andaccomplished man of the world. He is well-connected, moves in thebest society, and could give his wife everything."
"He couldn't give me happiness, and he would spoil my life."
"Oh well, if you feel so, there is nothing more to be said. I cantell you, though, that multitudes of girls would be glad of yourchance; but, like so many young people, you have romantic ideas,and do not appreciate the fact that happiness results chiefly fromthe conditions of our lot, and that we soon learn to have plentyof affection for those who make them all we could desire;" and shetouched a bell for the waitress, who had been temporarily dismissed.
The girl came in with a faint smile on her face. "Has she beenlistening?" thought Marian. "That creature, then, with her vain,pretty, yet vulgar face, is the type of what I was. She has beenlighting the drawing-room for me to do what she proposes to dolater in the evening. She looks just the same. Mamma is just thesame. Callers will come just the same. How unchanged all is, aspapa said it would be! I fear much may be unchangeable."
She soon left the dining-room for the parlor, her dainty, merrylittle campaigning-ground. What should be its future record? Couldshe carry out the scheme of life which her father had suggested?"Well," she concluded, with an ominous flash in her eyes at her fairreflection in the mirror, "whether I can incite any one to betterthings or not, I can at least do some freezing out. That gossipy,selfish old Mr. Lanniere must take his million to some other market.I have no room in my life for him. Neither do I dote on the futureacquaintance of Mr. Strahan. I shall put him on probation. If mendon't want my society and regard on the new conditions, they canstay away; if they persist in coming, they must do something finerand be something finer than in the past. The friendship of one manlike Fenton Lane is worth more than the attention of a wildernessof muffs and sticks, as papa calls them. What I fear is that I shallappear goody-goody, and that would disgust every one, includingmyself."
CHAPTER VII.
SURPRISES.