CHAPTER XXIII.
THE DEBUT INTO SOCIETY.
"And so it is to be a regular 'come-out party,'" said Dr. Drayton oneevening as he sat smoking with Mr. Berkley in the library, the rest ofthe family being in the parlor.
"Yes, a regular 'come-out party,'" repeated Mr. Berkley; "but I don'tintend to dash out, and make a great spread; hire Papanti's hall, etc. Idon't like that sort of thing. I shall invite enough to fill the house,and yet not have it a perfect jam; have half-a-dozen pieces of music,and a good supper; that's my idea of a party."
"And a very correct idea, I should say," said the doctor.
"Mrs. Berkley rather objected to giving it at all this winter. Marion isstill so young, she wanted me to wait another year; but you see, doctor,I'm pretty proud of my only daughter, and I want her to go about insociety, before I get too old to go with her."
"How old is Miss Marion?" asked Dr. Drayton.
"Eighteen last May."
"Older than Rachel; I thought her younger."
"She looks younger, I think myself, and sometimes seems younger still;but there's good stuff there. She's like her mother, and if I do say it,she'll make a noble woman."
"If she proves to be like her mother, she certainly will," replied Dr.Drayton. "Mrs. Berkley is just my idea of what a wife and mother oughtto be."
"That remark proves you a man of sense and discernment," said Mr.Berkley, highly gratified, both by Dr. Drayton's words, and the warmthof his tone. "But about this party; of course you will come, and dancethe 'German.'"
"I certainly agree to come. It will be my first real entrance intoBoston society; but as for dancing, that's quite another thing; I gavethat up years ago."
"Why, man alive!" exclaimed Mr. Berkley; "any one would think, to hearyou talk sometimes, you were a perfect Methuselah! Here, Marion!" hecried, calling her in from the other room, "I want you to give Dr.Drayton private lessons in dancing, so that he will be able to getthrough the 'German' at your party."
"I am much obliged to Miss Marion," said Dr. Drayton, quietly; "but itis too late for me to begin now; I must decline her services."
"Perhaps it would be as well if you waited until I offered them,"replied Marion, haughtily, piqued at the coolness of his manner. "Icertainly had no intentions of becoming a dancing-mistress for you orany one else!"
The doctor made no reply, but Mr. Berkley laughed aloud, as heexclaimed: "Look here, Marion, that Thornton has spoiled you! You are soused to having him consider it an honor to be allowed to pick up yourhandkerchief, that you begin to think that every one else must do thesame."
"Papa, how unkind!" said Marion, flushing to the roots of her hair; "Idon't know as Mr. Thornton ever picked up my handkerchief in his life,and he wouldn't be so foolish as to consider it an honor if he had."
"No?" replied her father, in the most provoking way; "but there,--youshan't be teased any more! Just turn round, and smile sweetly on thedoctor, and tell him you don't think he's too old to come to yourparty, and you'll let him, if he'll promise to be a good boy."
"I don't care whether he comes or not," cried Marion, struggling to getaway from her father.
"If that is the case," said Dr. Drayton, "I shall certainly come, simplyfor my own amusement. I didn't know but my presence might beparticularly disagreeable to you; but as you seem so thoroughlyindifferent, I shall come, and look on with the other old folks."
Marion bit her lips, and said nothing; but as her father still held herhand, so that she could not get away, she seated herself on the arm ofhis chair with her face turned towards the fire.
"Doctor," said Mr. Berkley, "why don't you shave off that beard? Itmakes you look five years older than you are."
"That is my mask," replied the doctor, stroking his beard with his righthand; "I could not part with it."
"What, in the name of sense, do you want of a mask?"
"Unluckily for me, my mouth is the telltale feature of my face. I found,when I first became a surgeon, that my patients could tell by itsexpression whether they were to live or die; so I covered it up withthis beard. After I had been at the hospital several years, and had seensights that the very telling of them would make you shudder; when Iperformed operation after operation without flinching, or even havingthe slightest feeling of repugnance, I thought I must have got my mouthunder perfect control, and so ventured to trim my mustache and shave mybeard. That very morning I had to attend a poor fellow who had had hisleg amputated the day before; during the examination I never looked athim, for I felt his eyes were fixed on my face. Suddenly he exclaimed:'It's no use, doctor; you can keep your eyes down, but you can't hideyour mouth,--that says death.' It was the truth; mortification had setin, and he died the next morning. After that I let my beard grow, and solong as I remain a surgeon, which I shall so long as my hand is steadyenough to guide the knife, it will stay as it is."
"Well, I think you are right," said Mr. Berkley; "but by and by, whenyou get a wife, perhaps she will think differently, and the beard, andthe profession too, may have to go. The last, I hear, pays you nothing."
"If ever I get a wife," replied Dr. Drayton, "she will probably think asI do,--that, as I have been blessed with more than an ample fortune, Ishould be a heartless wretch, if I did not devote my skill to the reliefof the suffering poor."
Marion, who had listened silently to the above conversation, finding herfather had released his hold of her hand, slipped quietly away.
The weeks flew past, and the eventful day, when Marion was to make herdebut into fashionable society, at last arrived.
Rachel, of course, would not go to the party, as she was still in deepmourning; but Florence was to stay all night with Marion, and Rachelwent round early with her uncle, that she might see her two friends inthe full splendor of their first ball-dresses. She went directly to thedrawing-room, where she heard the voices of the girls, leaving her uncleto find his way to the dressing-room.
"Hands off these two pieces of dry-goods!" cried Fred, who was caperinground his sister and Florence, in a perfect state of delight, and allthe glories of his first dress-coat, when Rachel entered the room. "Youmay admire as much as you please; but you can't touch 'em with aten-foot pole."
"Get out of the way, Fred," said Marion, putting him aside as she wentforward to meet Rachel; "she shall touch me as much as she pleases. Howdo you like it, Rachel? Is it just the thing?"
"I should say it certainly was!" exclaimed Rachel, enthusiastically. "Inever saw anything so lovely in my life; and you two look so prettytogether!"
"You see our dresses are made just alike," said Florence, buttoning hergloves; "only my flowers are pink, and hers white."
The two girls certainly did look lovely. Their dresses were of whitetarlatan, puffed and ruffled sufficiently to be quite a la mode, butstill so light and delicate as to give them a floating, airy appearance,and not make them look like exaggerated fashion-plates. Marion's wascaught, here and there, with white daisies and delicate grasses, awreath of the same in her hair; while Florence's was trimmed with pinkroses and buds.
"May I be allowed to come in at this early hour?" inquired Dr. Drayton,as he appeared on the threshold.
"Yes, indeed," laughed Marion, advancing to meet him, and stopping inthe centre of the room, to drop him a profound courtesy; "you are myfirst arrival."
"And as such claim your acceptance of this bouquet, which I hope youwill honor me by carrying during the evening."
Marion looked up very much surprised, as he held towards her anexquisite bouquet. He was the last man from whom she would have expectedsuch an attention.
"I am very sorry, Dr. Drayton, but you see Fred has one in his handwhich I promised a week ago I would carry to-night; but I am just asmuch obliged, and will set it on the stand close to where I sit in the'German.'"
"No, indeed," replied the doctor, without the slightest appearance ofannoyance; "my poor bouquet shall not be so set aside. Mrs. Berkley,will you honor me?"
"I say, Marion," exclaimed Fr
ed, as Marion took her bouquet from hishand, "what a pity you promised Thornton you'd carry his! The doctor'sis twice as handsome!"
"So it's Mr. Thornton who has got ahead of me?" said the doctor. "MissFlorence, I hope I am not to be equally unfortunate with you;" and hepresented her with a beautiful bouquet, which he had until that momentheld behind him.
"Oh, thank you!" cried Florence, perfectly delighted; "you know it's notmy debut, and no one else has thought of honoring me; it was very kindof you. See, Marion, isn't it lovely?"
"Yes, very," replied Marion, as she bent over it, inwardly provoked withherself for being annoyed because the doctor had not only handed overher bouquet to her mother with such perfect nonchalance, but had alsobrought one for Florence.
* * * * *
But guests were soon seen passing through the hall on their way to thedressing-rooms, and Rachel was obliged to hurry off; soon the roomsbegan to fill, and before long the wonderful "German" was at its height.
The doctor felt himself a stranger in a strange land; he had beenintroduced to, and conversed with, several young ladies, but now allconversation was broken up by the "German," and he stood leaning againstthe door-way, and watched the dance as it proceeded. He noticed severalmen, much older than himself, dancing with fair young girls; and hewondered within himself if they were really enjoying themselves, and whyit was that he stood like one shut out from all the pleasures of youth,young in years but old in feelings; in fact, he was getting a triflemisanthropical, when Marion floated slowly past him, waltzing withArthur Thornton. As they passed, so near that her draperies touched him,he heard Mr. Thornton say, in a low tone full of meaning, "Marion youare enough to make a man mad, to-night! You are almost too lovely!"
"So," thought the doctor, as he turned away, "it is all settled. Well, Isupposed as much."
He did not see Marion as she abruptly stopped dancing, and looked atpoor, infatuated Arthur with a frigid glance, which made his heart leapto his throat, as she said, "Mr. Thornton, you forget yourself; will youlead me to my seat?"
Poor Arthur! it was his first rash act; he had loved Marion so well, andtried so hard to conceal it until he was sure of her feelings; butto-night as he said, she was almost too lovely, and before he hadthought of the consequences he had called her by name and told her so.It was his first act of tenderness and his last, for now he knew as wellthat to her he could never be anything more than a friend, as if she hadrefused him point-blank. Poor fellow! it was a hard blow, but he did notstagger under it; he danced the "German" with as much apparent gayety,and hid his grief under as bright a smile as ever graced a ball-room.But though he flattered himself that no one knew the pain he suffered,there was one, who, although she neither heard his remark, nor Marion'sanswer, witnessed the little scene between them, saw the frigid look inMarion's eyes, and the light die out of his, and her heart ached for thepoor fellow, as only the heart of a young girl can ache, over thesorrows of a man whose happiness is dearer to her than her own.
* * * * *
The next morning Rachel was in the dining-room, waiting for her uncle tocome to breakfast. She had watered and arranged the plants, and nowstood tapping impatiently on the window-pane, and wondering why he wasso late; but he soon made his appearance, coming in with Mrs. Marston.
"O Uncle Robert!" she exclaimed, "I began to think you were nevercoming; don't you know I'm dying to hear about the party?"
"My dear, if I had known you were in such a terrible state of mind andbody," replied her uncle, as he seated himself at the table, "I wouldhave come down at six; but if you will take the trouble to look at theclock, you will see it is you who are early, not I who am late."
"Well, never mind that," impatiently replied Rachel; "how did Marionlook?"
"Didn't you see for yourself?"
"Oh! that was before any one had got there, and she was not at allexcited; she's always lovelier then, she has such a beautiful color, andit makes her eyes handsomer than ever."
"I don't think it's necessary for me to say anything, do you, Mrs.Marston?" said the doctor, as he calmly stirred his coffee; "justimagine her as you saw her, only a little excited, and you'll knowexactly how she looked."
"Did she have much attention?"
"You could hardly expect anything else, as the party was at her house."
"Oh! of course people would be polite; but wasn't there anybodyparticularly attentive? Didn't she get 'taken out' a great deal?"
"'Taken out?'" repeated the doctor, with a puzzled expression. "Mrs.Marston, can you enlighten me?"
"Oh, yes!" laughed Mrs. Marston; "that is only one of the mysteriousphrases of the 'German,' which being interpreted means, did a great manygentlemen ask her to dance?"
"Oh, thank you," replied the doctor. "Yes, Rachel, she got 'taken out' agreat deal; in fact she seemed to be out all the time."
"There! _that's_ what I wanted to know," said Rachel, in a tone ofsatisfaction; "now tell me about Florence."
"I'll try to answer you in the most approved style. She looked verycharming indeed; seemed to have plenty of admirers, for I noticed thatMiss Marion managed to have her share her honors, and made her the guestof the evening; she was 'taken out' a great deal, and above all,continued to carry my bouquet the whole evening without dropping it."
"I'm so glad," cried Rachel, "but wasn't it a shame that Arthur Thorntonshould have sent his bouquet to Marion first?"
"A shame? Why, no indeed," answered her uncle, with the utmostcomposure; "for if he had not, she would have been obliged to carrymine, and I know she preferred Mr. Thornton's."
"I don't believe it; yours was a great deal handsomer."
"Oh! that's not the point! Of course you must see that Mr. Thornton isto be _the_ man."
"Uncle Robert, how absurd! I don't believe Marion would ever have him inthe world!"
"And why not, I should like to know? He is handsome, intelligent,--infact, a very good fellow every way, and has plenty of money."
"But Marion never will marry for money!" cried Rachel.
"I don't say she will; but what is your objection to Mr. Thornton?"
"I haven't any at all; I like him very much, but he would never do forMarion. She wants a much stronger man than he."
"Well, perhaps he will develop his muscle," replied Dr. Drayton, coolly.
"Uncle Robert! you know I don't mean that kind of strength!--mentalstrength; some one in every way superior to herself; in fact, some onethat she could feel was her master."
"Master! I can't imagine Miss Marion yielding her own sweet will to anyone."
"Rachel is right," said Mrs. Marston; "when Marion marries she willchoose a man much older than herself."
"Well, time will show," said Dr. Drayton; "but Rachel, if Marion Berkleyis not engaged to Mr. Thornton at the end of six months, I'll give youthe handsomest diamond ring I can buy at Bigelow's."
CHAPTER XXIV.
CONCLUSION.
The days and weeks flew by like hours, and Marion found herselfsurrounded by a crowd of admirers, and one of the acknowledged belles ofthe season. Balls, parties, receptions, matinees, and formal calls tookup all her time, and what with lying abed in the morning to make up forher late hours, the days were fairly turned into night, and night intoday. Mrs. Berkley remonstrated as she saw her daughter drifting fartherand farther out on the sea of fashionable society, but it was now toolate; she could not refuse all the invitations that were showered uponher, and those that she would have been glad to decline, her fatherwould not allow her to, for fear of giving offence. She had at firstmade a struggle to keep up her French and German, but at last gave it upas useless, for if she had no engagement for those hours, she was tootired and worn out by her dissipation to attend to them properly.
Rachel felt extremely sorry to be obliged to tell her uncle that hisprediction had proved true; that Marion's time was too much occupiedwith balls and parties for her to attend the lessons; but she added asaving
clause, to the effect that when Lent put an end to the extremegayeties of the season, Marion would be glad to join them.
"If she wishes to join us then, well and good," said Dr. Drayton; "butRachel, I want you to fully understand, that you must never ask her todo so; she must come back to us as she left us, of her own free will."
Marion felt far from satisfied with the life she was leading. At firstit was very delightful to find herself so much admired; to know that thehonor of her hand for the "German" was sought days in advance by the menwho were considered the bright, particular stars of the fashionableworld; to have hardly a day go by that did not bring her an exquisitebouquet, or basket of flowers; never go to the theatre or opera thatseveral young exquisites did not come to her seat for a chat between theacts! Oh, it was very delightful indeed; and for a while she thought shehad never been so happy in her life. But only for a while; she grewtired at last of hearing the same things said to her night after night,over and over again; she knew she was wasting her life; the preciousmoments and hours that would never come again. Her health, too, began togive way under this constant dissipation. She had frequent dullheadaches, and could not keep herself from being irritated at triflesthat she would never have noticed before. Even her father began tocomplain that "she was going out almost too much; he never had a quietevening at home, and as for her music he had not heard her touch thepiano for weeks."
Just about this time she received a letter from Mme. Beranger. She wrotein a bright, happy strain, giving an account of what was going on at theschool, alluding with a little conjugal pride to the beneficialinfluence which M. Beranger exerted over the scholars, and the respectwhich he inspired, not only from them, but from Miss Stiefbach also.
She concluded by saying:--
"And now, my dear Marion, I am going to speak of yourself, a subject about which I know very well you do not care to have much said; but you will bear it patiently I feel sure from your old teacher, who says with truth, that, dear as all her scholars have been to her, none ever came so near, so completely won her love, as you have done.
"I wanted to tell you, before the close of school last autumn, how much I rejoiced in the victories which I saw you were daily gaining over yourself; but the opportunity never seemed to arrive when I could do so without appearing to force myself upon you.
"It would make you happy, I know, if you could hear yourself spoken of as I am almost daily in the habit of hearing your name mentioned by one or more of the scholars, in the kindest, most affectionate terms.
"It is a good thing when a girl leaves school carrying with her the love and admiration of her school-mates, and leaving behind her nothing but regret that she is no longer there to join in their studies, or lead them in their fun and frolic.
"Now you have done with school-days, and it is very probable that many of your school-mates you may never meet again; you will form new friends wherever you go, and to a certain extent owe some duties to society; but I cannot imagine you as among the class of young ladies, who, the moment the doors of the school-room close behind them, consider their education finished, and so straightway give up all sensible occupations, and fritter away their time in fashionable dissipation. I have seen too much of you, understand your nature too well, to believe you capable of such folly; but temptations of various kinds will come to you in the future, as they have come in the past, and the same sense of right, the same determination to conquer yourself, which helped you to overcome the faults of your girlhood, will strengthen and sustain you in your endeavors to attain a pure, noble womanhood.
"But I fear you will think I am writing you a sermon, and that I have forgotten that you have passed from under my authority, but 'the spirit moved me,' and so I have spoken; if I have said more than I ought, forgive me, and take it kindly from your old Miss Christine.
"My sister wished to be kindly remembered to you, and my husband says: Faites mes amities a Mlle. Berkley. Good-by, my dear,
"From your true friend,
"CHRISTINE BERANGER."
Marion's conscience smote her as she read the letter, and thought howfar short of all Mme. Beranger had hoped she would be, of all she haddetermined for herself, was the life she was now leading. Day by dayshe became more and more discontented with herself, as she saw howcompletely she had given her time to what her teacher had rightlycalled, "fashionable dissipation."
Lent at last arrived, and Marion, although not an Episcopalian, welcomedit with delight, for now there would be few if any, large parties, andshe would have a chance to rest. She was determined to commence a courseof history; practise at least two hours a day, and, if Rachel proposedit, commence again her French and German, in which her friend had madesuch astonishing progress as to make Marion thoroughly ashamed ofherself. But, much to Marion's surprise, Rachel did not propose it,neither did Dr. Drayton, before whom she had mentioned several times howsorry she was to find herself so far behind Rachel. She thought it verystrange that the doctor did not again offer to teach her with his niece,and resolved, if she could ever manage to humble herself sufficiently toask a favor of him, she would tell him herself she wanted to rejoin theclass.
An opportunity offered itself sooner than she had expected. The doctorhad a fine baritone voice, and was extremely fond of music. Rachel, as ageneral thing, was able to play his accompaniments for him, but now andthen he bought a new song too difficult for her to manage, and he oftenbrought them, at Mr. Berkley's suggestion, for Marion to play for him.One evening he made his appearance with a piece of music in his hand,and said, as he shook hands with her:--
"Miss Marion, I have a song here that is most too much for Rachel: willyou do me the favor of playing the accompaniment?"
"Yes," replied Marion, as she took the music, and glanced over it; "onone condition."
"And that is?" said the doctor.
"That you will let me come back to the French and German readings."
"Are you quite sure you want to come?" asked the doctor, looking downupon her, and speaking very much as he would have done to a naughtychild.
"Very sure," replied Marion, almost provoked with herself for not beingable to say the contrary.
"Very well then, come," said the doctor, in a lower tone, as he arrangedthe music for her. "You must want to very much, if you would be willingto ask it as a favor from me."
Marion bit her lips and said nothing. She had intended to make it appearthat she was granting the favor; but the doctor had reversed the orderof things. The next day the old studies were commenced, and Marion tookhold with a will, determined to conquer all difficulties and put herselfby the side of Rachel. She was at first extremely mortified to find howmany mistakes she made, and how much she had forgotten; but the doctorwas more patient than ever before, and she soon made great improvement.
Of late Marion had seen very little of Mr. Thornton, and now that shewas not going about so much, she began to miss his bright, pleasantface, and many little attentions: and as Saturday after Saturday wentby, and he did not make his appearance with Fred, as he had formerlybeen so often in the habit of doing, she asked her brother what hadbecome of him. Fred's answer was, that "Thornton was cramming likeblazes; he meant to leave college with flying colors."
At first Marion felt a little chagrined that he could so soon haveforgotten her, and had half a mind to write him a charming little note,inviting him over to spend Sunday; but she knew it would only be holdingout a prospect of encouragement which she never really meant to givehim, and so she refrained.
Summer at last arrived, and the Berkleys and Draytons were makingpreparations for spending it among the White Mountains. Fred had urgedthem to stay for "Class-day," as Arthur Thornton graduated this year;but Marion's unusually pale cheeks told too plainly that either thedissipations of the winter, or some other unexplainable cause, had madea deep inroad on he
r health, and her parents were glad to get her awayfrom the city.
Florence's father had married again, and had taken a cottage at thebeach for the summer; so she had declined Rachel's invitation to againmake one of their party.
They travelled slowly through the mountains, stopping for days at a timeat whatever place seemed to them as particularly pleasant. It was tooearly for the great rush of fashionable visitors, and they enjoyedthemselves the more on that account.
After having spent several weeks in this manner, they settled down forthe rest of the summer at a little hotel unknown to fame, and rarelyvisited except by pedestrians and artists wandering about in search ofthe most beautiful views.
Marion had by this time entirely regained her strength, and could climbabout the mountains, and take as long walks as any of the party; butstill she did not seem the same as in former days. Her father and motherdid not notice the change, for with them she was always as gay as ever,and they were perfectly happy to see her so well,--slightly tanned withthe summer's sun, and a bright color always glowing in her cheeks.
But Rachel wondered what had come over her, for when they were alone sheseemed so much more quiet and preoccupied, that her friend could hardlyrealize it was the same Marion Berkley she had known at school. Thedoctor, too, silently noticed her altered manner, and had his ownopinion as to the cause.
One day towards the close of summer, Marion was sitting on a littlepiazza, which belonged exclusively to the private parlor used by theirparty. A book was in her lap, but her hands lay idly on its open pages,as she sat lost in a reverie, from which she was roused by Dr. Draytonas he came round the house, and stood holding a letter over her head,exclaiming, "See what I have for you, Miss Marion! Can you tell thewriting from here?"
"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Marion, in a delighted tone, reaching up her handto take it; "it's from Florence. Do let me have it."
"Not until you promise me," said the doctor, holding the letter out ofher reach, "that you will tell me how you honestly feel about the mostimportant piece of news this letter contains."
"I promise," said Marion, smiling. "It will probably be that her newmamma has given her a lovely picture, and she is the dearest mamma inthe world."
"Never mind what it is," said the doctor; "you have promised;" and heleaned against the pillar opposite Marion, apparently engaged in readinga letter which he had held open in his hand during their conversation,but in reality furtively watching the expression of her face, for heknew what news the letter contained, and wanted to judge of its effectupon her.
She read on, smiling to herself as Florence went into ecstasies over thekindness of her new, darling mamma. Then suddenly an expression ofintense surprise passed over her face, which was succeeded by one whichit would be difficult to define, as the letter dropped into her lap, andshe sat looking straight before her, but evidently seeing nothing, andentirely forgetful of the doctor's presence.
"Poor child!" he thought, as he watched the tears slowly gathering inher eyes; "it has come at last, and she so young! It is cruel in me towatch her; but I _must_ know how deeply it affects her."
Suddenly Marion sprang up with the letter in her hand, and was runningthrough the long parlor-window, when the doctor called to her:--
"Miss Marion, have you forgotten your promise?"
"No, indeed!" answered Marion, without looking round. "Stay there; I'llbe back in a moment."
Dr. Drayton put his letter in his pocket, and folded his arms across hisbreast as he leaned against the pillar, like Marion looking straightbefore him, but seeing nothing. "If she can hide her wounds so bravely,cannot I do the same?" thought he; "it would be too cruel for me to makeher tell me herself; I can at least spare her that." He was so lost inthought, that Marion had again stepped on to the piazza, and stoodbeside him before he was aware of her presence.
"Now, doctor," she said, startling him by the brightness of her tone,"I'm ready to be questioned. There _was_ quite an important piece ofnews in the letter."
"You need not tell me," he said very gently, "I know it already."
"And how did you know it?" asked Marion, in a disappointed tone ofvoice. "I was to be the first one told, and then _I_ was to tellRachel."
"Your letter was delayed probably, and mine from Fred, written the nextday, when every one knew it, came in the same mail."
"But you don't seem a bit glad," said Marion. "_I_ am perfectlydelighted."
He looked down at her silently for a few moments. Could she be acting?He would put her to the test.
"Miss Marion, I _will_ hold you to your promise; you said you would tellme honestly how you felt about this piece of news."
"And so I will," replied Marion, surprised at his serious manner. "Mr.Thornton is as fine a young man as I know, and has always been a goodfriend of mine. When I tell you that I think him in every way worthy ofFlorence, you may know that is the highest compliment I can pay him; andI am perfectly delighted they are engaged."
"And this is on your honor?"
"On my honor," answered Marion, looking up at him with her clear,truthful eyes.
"I believe you," he said; "but forgive me if I ask why, feeling so, thetears should have come into your eyes when you read the letter?"
"Dr. Drayton," cried Marion, her face flushing, "it was too bad of youto watch me! It is cruel in you to ask me."
"I know it is cruel," he answered; "but nevertheless I _must_ ask you."
"I will tell you," replied Marion, hurriedly, "or you will misunderstandme. Florence and I have been very, very dear friends; we have loved eachother all our lives, as I think few girls rarely do love; there hasnever been a cloud between us that was not soon cleared away; and when Ifirst read that she was engaged to Arthur Thornton, I could not helpfeeling a little bit of sorrow, in spite of my greater joy, to thinkthat now she would have some one to take my place away from me. But thatfeeling is all gone now--or will be soon," she added, choking down asob, that would come in spite of her.
"Marion," he almost whispered, as he bent over her, "are you sure younever loved Arthur Thornton?"
"Very sure," answered Marion, not daring to raise her eyes, and blushingcrimson as he for the first time called her by name.
He bent lower still, and was about to lay his hand upon her arm, whenRachel rushed through the parlor-window, exclaiming, "Uncle Robert,Marion can't marry Mr. Thornton, if she wants to ever so much, and Iwant my diamond ring!"
"The six months are past," replied her uncle.
"I don't think that's fair, do you, Marion?" But Marion had slippedaway, and was nowhere to be seen.
A few evenings later the three were sitting on the piazza, enjoyingtheir last night at the mountains. Mr. and Mrs. Berkley had retiredearly, so as to feel bright and fresh for their homeward journey thenext day, but the rest had declared their intention of sitting up towatch the moon, as it went slowly down behind the distant hills.
"Rachel," said Dr. Drayton, as he threw away his cigar, "how should youlike to go to Europe next spring?"
"Like it!" exclaimed Rachel, clasping her hands with delight. "I shouldbe perfectly happy!"
"Well, I thought so," replied her uncle, "and I am going to take you."
"O Uncle Robert! you are too good! Marion, isn't that splendid?"
But before Marion could answer, Dr. Drayton went on, as if he had notheard Rachel's remark. "Of course, it will not do for you to gotravelling over Europe with only me."
"Take Mrs. Marston!" exclaimed Rachel, determined to surmount alldifficulties; "take Mrs. Marston; she's just the one!"
"Oh, no!" replied her uncle, in a very decided tone; "she wouldn't do atall; she's too old. I've been thinking about it for some time; you wanta young person, and so I am going to get married."
"O Uncle Robert!" cried Rachel, jumping up, and taking hold of his arm;"don't get married! please don't! I'd rather never go to Europe as longas I live, than to have you do that!"
"I am sure you are very kind indeed," replied her uncle, "to
give upyour pleasure on my account; but really I don't see as I can very wellhelp being married now, for I've asked the lady, and she said yes."
"O uncle! uncle! to think of your getting married just for the sake ofhaving some one to go to Europe with me! It's dreadful!"
"Yes, dear, I think it would be, if that were the case; but to tell youthe truth I am very much in love with the lady myself."
"Then I shall hate her!" exclaimed Rachel, dropping her uncle's arm,--"Iknow I shall hate her!"
Marion had been sitting perfectly quiet during this conversation, withher back turned towards the speaker; she now rose, and attempted to passby Dr. Drayton into the parlor; but he caught her with both hands, andturned her round towards his niece, saying, as he did so, "Allow me,Rachel, to introduce you to your future aunt; if you don't love her formy sake, try to for her own; she's worth it."
Rachel stood in speechless astonishment, and Marion, also, could notutter a word.
"This is a pretty state of things, I must say," said the doctor."Rachel, won't you kiss your Aunt Marion?"
"Kiss her!" exclaimed Rachel, finding her voice, and throwing her armsround Marion's neck; "I thought I loved her before, but _now_ I shallfairly worship her! I never was so happy in my life!"
"Nor I either," whispered Marion, very softly.
"But I don't understand it," cried Rachel, still in a state ofbewilderment. "I never thought of such a thing. I thought you didn'tlike Marion at all, Uncle Robert."
"I know it, my dear, and she thought the same; but I have satisfied herto the contrary, and I guess I can you."
"Ah! Uncle Robert," said Rachel, archly, "I guess I _shan't_ have thehandsomest diamond-ring at Bigelow's; I suppose Marion has that."
"No, she has not," replied the doctor, lifting Marion's left hand, onwhich Rachel could see in the moonlight a heavy, plain, gold ring.
"What!--not diamonds?"
"No," replied the doctor, as he held the hand in both his own; "my wifeshall have all the diamonds she wants, but this ring must be plaingold."
"Are you satisfied, Marion?" asked Rachel.
Marion gave a quick glance up at the doctor, then looked at Rachel, asshe answered, "Perfectly."
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