THAT MOTHER-IN-LAW OF MINE. 

 “BE TO HER VIRTUES VERY KIND, BE TO HER FAULTS A LITTLE BLIND. ”

 PHILADELPHIA: THE KEYSTONE PUBLISHING CO. 1889. 

 COPYRIGHT BY JOHN E. POTTER AND COMPANY, 1879

 Dedicated TO ALL THOSE HAVING MOTHERS-IN-LAW OR EXPECTING TO HAVE. 

CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER Page

 I. BESSIE AND I AND BESSIE’S MOTHER 7

 II. COURTING THE MOTHER 15

 III. OUR MARRIAGE 28

 IV. MOUNTAINS AND MORE MOTHER-IN-LAW 37

 V. THE RISE AND FALL 50

 VI. WHAT IS HOME WITHOUT A MOTHER-IN-LAW? 71

 VII. MISS VAN’S PARTY AND ANOTHER UNPLEASANTNESS 84

VIII. ANOTHER CHARLIE IN THE FIELD 98

 IX. THE SHADOW ON OUR LIFE 108

 X. MY MOTHER-IN-LAW SUBDUED 115

 XI. GEORGE’S NEW DEPARTURE 123

 XII. BABY TALK, OLD DIVES, AND OTHER THINGS 138

XIII. A SURPRISE 150

 XIV. A HAPPY PROSPECT 158

MY MOTHER-IN-LAW. 

CHAPTER I. 

BESSIE AND I AND BESSIE’S MOTHER. 

“Why, Charlie, you sha’n’t talk so about my mother! I won’t allow it. ”

“It does sound a little rough, my dear; but I can’t help it. She doesexasperate me so. She doesn’t show a proper deference for your husband, my dear. We are married now, and she ought to give up her objections tome. I can’t be expected to place myself in her leading strings. ”

“But you mustn’t demand too much at once, and should try to conciliateher. Now do, for my sake; won’t you, dear?”

Here we were, only a month married, and spending our honeymoon at a mostcharming summer resort, where there was no excuse for getting out ofpatience. Everything was beautiful and attractive: Little hotel, strange to say, quite delightful; no fault to find with surroundings andaccommodations; my darling Bessie, as sweet as an angel and determinedto be happy and to make me happy; everything, in short, calculated togive us a long summer of delight. 

That is, if Bessie had only been an orphan. But there was her mother, who had joined us on our summer trip, after the first two weeks ofunalloyed happiness, and threatened to accompany us through life. Already it almost made the prospect dismal. The idea that Bessie and Iwould ever quarrel, or even have any impatient words together, hadseemed to me to be simply ridiculous. I had seen what I had seen. Mydashing friend, Fred, and his stylish wife, —they had been married twoyears, and a visible coldness had come upon them. I knew, by anoccasional angry whisper and knitting of the brow before people, that hemust sometimes swear and rave in the privacy of their own rooms, and hercutting replies or haughty indifference showed that there had been adeal of love lost between them in those two years. 

Other people, too, got indifferent or downright hostile in theirmarital relations. But then, I was not a dashing fellow and Bessie wasnot stylish, and in other ways we were quite different from most people. Ours had been a real love-match from the first. Bessie was simple andunaffected, honest and pure in every thought, and determined to make mea faithful and loving wife till death did us part. As for me, why, ofcourse I was generous and affectionate, ready to make any sacrifice andbear any burden for the trusting creature who had so freely givenherself into my keeping. There should be no clouds to darken her life. Iwould never be selfish or impatient, or for one moment hurt her gentleheart by heedless act or careless word. 

But plague upon it! I could not get on with her mother; and here I was, before our summer holiday was over, and before we had settled down tothat home life in which trouble and annoyance must needs come, gettingout of patience and saying cruel things; and there was Bessie, sittingin the summer twilight with a light shawl drawn over her shoulders, pouting her pretty lips with vexation, and digging the toes of herlittle boots into the balustrade in front of us, because I had expresseda pious wish that her mother was in Jericho. I declare, if there weren’ttears gathering in her gentle blue eyes!

I was angry with myself, and, putting my arm around her slender waist, Ilaid my cheek against hers and said soothingly, “Never mind, darling! Ididn’t mean it. Don’t think any more about it. ”

But as we sat for the next five minutes without saying a word, Icouldn’t help pondering on the possibilities of the future, for Mrs. Pinkerton was to live with us. That was one of the understood conditionsof our bargain, and it was evident that she was to furnish the test ofall my good resolutions. 

Mrs. Pinkerton had been left a widow when Bessie was twelve years old, with a neat little cottage in the suburbs of the city and a snugcompetence in a secure investment. I was fairly settled in business, with an income that would enable us to live in modest comfort, and wasdetermined not to disturb the investment or have it drawn upon in anyway for household expenses. But the old lady—I already began to speakof her by that disrespectful epithet, although she was still underfifty—was to live with us. I had readily acquiesced in thatarrangement, for was it not my darling’s wish? And I could not decentlymake any objection, for it was mighty convenient to have a prettycottage, ready furnished, in one of the finest suburbs of the city inwhich I was employed. 

Mrs. Pinkerton was a good woman in her way: how could she be anythingelse and the mother of such an angel as I had secured for my wife? Shemeant well, of course; I admitted that, and I ought to be on thepleasantest terms with her, and determined from the first that I wouldbe. But somehow we were not congenial, and when that is the case thebest people in the world find it hard to get along agreeably together. 

The course of true love between Bessie and me had run very smooth. Fromthe moment my old school-fellow, her brother George, now in Parisstudying medicine, had introduced me to her, I had been completely wonby her sweet disposition and charming ways, and she in turn wascaptivated by my manly independence, strong good sense, and generousimpulses. I am not vain, but the truth is the truth; and, as I amtelling this story myself, I must set down the facts. We fell in loveright away, and it was not long before we were mutually convinced thatwe were made expressly for each other and could never be happy apart. 

So it happened that I had to do the courting with the mother. She wasthe one to be won over, and it was not likely to be an easy task, for Iplainly saw that she did not quite approve of me. When I was firstintroduced to her, she looked at me with her great, steady blue eyes, asif analyzing me to the very boots, and evidently set me down as asomewhat arrogant and self-sufficient young fellow who needed ajudicious course of discipline to teach him humility. I was generallyself-possessed and had no little confidence in myself, but I confessthat I was embarrassed in her presence. She was not at all like Bessie, I thought. She had taught school in her youth, and had learned tocommand and be obeyed. The late Mr. Pinkerton, I fancied, had found ituseless to contend against her authority, and this had increased herdisposition to carry things her own way; and her seven years’ widowhood, with its independence and self-reliance, had not prepared her to besubmissive to the wishes of others. 

Still, she loved her daughter with tender devotion, and her chiefanxiety was to have her every wish gratified. Therein was my advantage, for I knew that Bessie, gentle and trusting as she was, would never giveme up or allow her life to be happy without the gratification of herfirst love. So I set to work confidently to make myself agreeable to thewidow and win her consent to our marriage. 

“You must bring mamma around to approve of it, ” Bessie had said, on thatever-to-be-remembered evening, when we were returning from a long drive, and after an hour of sweet confidences she had surrendered herselfwithout reserve to my future keeping. “She is the best mother in theworld, and loves me very much, but she is peculiar in some ways, and Iam afraid she doesn’t altogether like you. I would not for the worlddisplease her, that is, if I could help it, ” she added, glancing up, asmuch as to say, “It is all settled now forever and forevermore, whatevermay befall, but do get my mother to consent to it with a good grace. ”

CHAPTER II. 

COURTING THE MOTHER. 

Mrs. Pinkerton sat in an easy-chair near the window, doing nothing, whenI marched in to begin the siege. I felt diffident and uneasy, although Iam not usually troubled that way. But if I should live to the advancedage of Methusaleh, I could never forget Mrs. Pinkerton’s appearance onthat memorable occasion. Before I had spoken a word I saw that she knewwhat was coming, and had hardened her heart against me. She hadanticipated all that I would say, had discounted my plea, as it were, and prejudged the whole case. Her look plainly said: “Young man, I knowyour pitiful story. You needn’t tell me. You may be very well as youngmen go, you fancy you can more than fill a mother’s place in Bessie’sinexperienced heart, but you can’t get me out. I am Adamant. Yourintentions are all very honorable, but you are a graceless intruder. Your credentials are rejected on sight. ” I saw the difficult task I hadundertaken. “Mrs. Pinkerton, ” I said, mustering all my forces, “it is nouse mincing the matter, or beating about the shrubbery. I am in lovewith your daughter, and Bessie is in love with me. I believe I can makeBessie happy, and am sure nothing but Bessie can make me happy. I havecome to ask your consent to our marriage. ” Then I hung my head like awhipped school-boy. 

Mrs. Pinkerton took off her eye-glasses, and then put them on again withconsiderable care; after which she leveled a look at me and through methat made me feel like calling out “Murder!” or making for the door. ButI stood my ground, and heard her say quietly, —

“So you are engaged to my daughter?”

A simple remark, but the tone meant “You are a puppy. ” I had to musterall my resolution to reply politely and coolly that, with her graciousconsent, such was the fact. 

“Are you aware that it is customary to obtain parental consent beforeproceeding to such lengths?”

“Mrs. Pinkerton, excuse me. I thought in my ignorance that it would bejust as well to do that afterwards; or rather, I didn’t think anythingabout it. I was so much in love with Bessie that it was all out before Iknew it. If I had thought, of course I would have—”

“Yes, yes, ” said Mrs. Pinkerton, “if your kind of people ever thought, they would undoubtedly do differently. Bessie certainly ought to knowbetter. Girls rush into matrimony now-a-days with as much carelessnessas they would choose partners at a game of croquet. I should have beenconsulted in this. It is all wrong to allow young people to have suchentire freedom in affairs of this kind as they are allowed in thesedays. ”

“But certainly, my dear Mrs. Pinkerton, ” I said, becoming somewhatimpatient, “you will not refuse your consent in this case? Bessie’shappiness—that is, the happiness of all of us, or—ourhappiness—Bessie’s and mine, I would say—”

“No doubt your happiness is very important to yourself, Mr. Travers, and as to my daughter’s well-being, I have looked to that for quite anumber of years past, and I flatter myself I shall be able to look outfor it in the future. ”

“Not if you insist on parting us!” I cried, getting out of patience andletting all my carefully prepared plans of assault go by the board. “Youmay withhold your consent, but that cannot prevent our loving eachother!”

“Of course not. Nothing on earth can prevent young people who are inlove from making themselves ridiculous. But getting married and livingtogether soon cures them of sentimentalism. ”

“Won’t you give us that chance to be cured then, my dear Mrs. Pinkerton?” I exclaimed, regaining a little tact. 

She seemed to be taking it under advisement, and my courage came up alittle. Then, looking at me with her peculiarly searching gaze, shesaid, “It isn’t necessary to argue the case; I know all you would say. You love Bessie to distraction; you could not live without her; yourheart would be hopelessly broken if you had to give her up; you will betrue to her forever and a day; you offer her all of the good things ofthis world that any sane woman could desire, besides which you throw inan eternal, undying devotion; and so on, to the end of the chapter. Wewill consider that all said, and so save time and trouble. You thinkthat ought to end the matter and bring me to your way of thinking. Iwonder at the effrontery of young men, who walk into our households andcarelessly tell us mothers what is best for our children, and assure us, between their puffs of tobacco smoke, that a case of three weeks’moonshining outweighs the devotion of a lifetime. ”

I began to see what course was open for me. The old lady was jealous, and I could not blame her. Her objections were general, not specific. Strategy must take the place of a direct assault. There flashed throughmy mind the ridiculous old nonsense rhyme quotation, —

 “I must soften the heart of this terrible cow. ”

I said gently, “I can readily see how a mother must regard the claims ofthe man who comes to her demanding her most precious treasure; and whatyou say makes me feel how presumptuous my demand must seem. I love yourdaughter—that must be my only excuse. And after all, what has happenedwas only what a mother must expect. Your daughter’s love will not be theless yours because she also loves the man of her choice. That she shouldlove and be loved was inevitable. ”

“We will not go into the discussion any further, ” she interrupted. “Idon’t wish to say anything uncomplimentary of you personally, but Isimply am not prepared to give my daughter up at present. My opinion ofmen in general is good, so long as they do not interfere with me ormine. ”

(Mental note: “May there be precious little interference between us!”)

“Your judgment is doubtless good, ” I said, smiling; “but there areexceptions which prove the rule, and I hope you will find that even Iwill improve upon acquaintance. ”

“Your conceit is abominable, young man. ”

“Thank you. I have found no one who could flatter me except myself, so Ilose no opportunity to give myself a good character. ”

“Especially in addressing the mother of the woman you wish to marry, eh?”

“Precisely, as she is naturally prejudiced against me. My dear Mrs. Pinkerton, what must I do to please you?”

“Hold your tongue!”

“Anything but that. You admit that I am a good fellow enough, and thatBessie would probably marry some one in course of time. Now, I don’t seewhy you cannot make us both happy by giving your consent. It costs you apang to do it. I honor you for that. Give me the right to console you. ”

“By making myself an object of pity? No, not yet, not yet. I must, atleast, have time to think. ”

I inwardly cursed my luck. How long was this sort of thing going tolast? I was about to rise and take my leave, when an inspiration struckme. 

“Mrs. Pinkerton, ” I said gravely, “what you have said of the ties thatexist between you and your daughter has touched me deeply. I believe weyoung people do not half appreciate a mother’s unchanging love. It liesso far beneath the surface that we are too apt to forget its constantblessing. My mother died when I was very young. Ah, if she were onlyhere now, to plead my cause for me!”

With these words, I turned on my heel and hastily got out of the room. Iwent into the garden and lighted a cigar, the better to think over thesituation. I could not determine what progress, if any, I had made inthe good graces of Mrs. Pinkerton. While I was cogitating, Bessie cameout and approached me with an inquiring look. I am afraid my returningglance did not greatly reassure her. As she came up and took my arm, shesaid, —

“Well?”

“Well! No, it’s not very well. I am beaten, my dear. Your mother issimply a stony-hearted parent!”

“What did she say?”

“Oh, she wants you to grow up an old maid—as if such a thing werepossible!—and says that lovers have no idea of what a mean, cruel thingit is to rob people of only daughters; and that she shall require timeto think of it. What do you think of that?”

Bessie knitted her pretty brows, and dug her toes into the walk. 

“Perhaps I had better go to her?” she said. 

“Of course you must. But I know it won’t be of any use just yet. Wemust, as she says, give her time. She will come around all right at theend of nine or ten years. The fact is, Bessie, she’s a little bitjealous of me and regards me as an intruder. ”

“Poor, dear mamma!” said Bessie, her eyes becoming moist. 

“Poor, dear pussy-cat! You should have seen her shoot me with her eyesand ridicule my honest sentiment. She used me roughly, my dear, and Ican’t help wondering at my amazing politeness to her. ”

Bessie was not discouraged. She had several interviews with her mother, in which protestations, tears, smiles, and coaxings played a part, butthere was no apparent change of heart on the part of the old lady, afterall. I don’t know how long this disagreeable state of affairs would havecontinued under ordinary circumstances, had not an unexpected, thrilling, and, as it happened, fortunate occurrence hastened a crisisand brought an end to the siege. It was a very singular thing, and itseemed to have been pre-arranged to bring me glory, and, what wasbetter, the desired goodwill of the “stony-hearted parent. ”

If there was any one thing that the worthy Mrs. Pinkerton detested morethan men and tobacco, that thing was a burglar. Add fear to detestation, and you will see that when I defended the old lady from the attentionsof a burglar, I had taken a long step into her good graces. 

It was a week after the interview narrated above, and in the earlysummer, Mrs. Pinkerton had gone down to a quiet sea-side resort for ashort stay, thinking to get away from me; but I was not to be put offso. I followed her, taking a room at the same hotel. 

About one o’clock at night, the particular burglar to whom I owe somuch, effected an entrance into the hotel through a basement window, andquietly made his way up stairs. Every one was asleep except myself, andI was planning all sorts of expedients to conquer the prejudices of mymother-in-law that was to be. Mrs. Pinkerton’s room opened on a longcorridor, near the end of which my modest seven-by-nine snuggery wassituated. It was a warm night, and the transoms over the doors of almostall the bed-chambers had been left open to admit the air. A gleam oflight from a dark-lantern, coming through my transom, was what led me tohastily don a pair of trousers and take my revolver from my valise. ThenI opened my door very cautiously, without having struck a light, andcould see—nothing! I waited a few moments, almost holding my breath. Atthe end of those few moments I could make out the form of a man swarmingover the top of the door of Mrs. Pinkerton’s room. His head andshoulders were already inside the room, and I could see his legs wriggleabout as he noiselessly wormed his way through the narrow transom. Ittook me but a brief second of time to glide forward on tiptoe and mountthe same chair which had been used by the intruder in climbing to thetransom. This done, I seized both the wriggling legs simultaneously, andgave a tremendous pull. 

My excitement must have imbued me with double my natural strength, andthe result of that pull was simply indescribable. Burglar, transom-glass, chair and all, went in a heap on the floor of thecorridor, producing the most appalling and unearthly racket conceivable. The whole house was in an uproar in a moment. People seemed to spring upfrom every square foot of floor in the corridor as if by magic. Cries of“Fire!” “Murder!” “Help!” and screams of frightened women, rose on everyhand. The costumes which I beheld on that momentous occasion were notonly varied but exceedingly amusing and picturesque as well. Theassembled multitude found nothing to interest them, however. I alone wasto be seen, seated on a broken chair, with a rapidly swelling black eye, while broken glass and an extinguished lantern lay on the floor. I toldthe male guests what had happened. The burglar had not waited to ask formy card, but had contented himself with planting one blow from theshoulder on my left eye, before I could get upon my legs. And myrevolver. Well, I had not had the ghost of a chance to use it. It was inmy pocket. Fifteen minutes after the fracas, Mrs. Pinkerton came to myroom, completely dressed, and insisted upon coming in to hear all aboutit and to overwhelm me with thanks and admiration. I was as modest asheroes proverbially are, and then and there told her never to refer tothe subject again unless she addressed me as Bessie’s betrothed. 

We went riding together, Bessie, Mrs. Pinkerton, and I, the day afterthis episode; and without any previous indication of an approachingthaw, that singular old lady began to talk freely about what should beworn at “the wedding, ” referring to it as though she had been theprincipal agent in bringing it about. 

CHAPTER III. 

OUR MARRIAGE. 

So it was that I brought my darling’s mother around to consent, if notwith a very good grace, still with apparent cheerfulness, and she atonce took the direction of the nuptial preparations. I made a show ofconsulting her about many things, but she invariably gave me tounderstand that her experience and superior knowledge in such matterswere not to be gainsaid. I was willing to leave to her all the fuss andfrippery of preparing clothes for her daughter. It always seemed to methat she had clothes enough, and clothes that were good enough formarried life. I couldn’t understand why a young woman, on becoming awife, should need a lot of new and elaborate dresses, such as she hadnever worn and never cared to wear, and an endless variety ofunder-garments of mysterious and incomprehensible make, with frills andfringes and laces and edgings, as if, up to that time, she had never hadanything next to her precious person, except what was visible to theexterior world. And even assuming that she donned these things for thefirst time as parts of a manifold and complicated wedding garment, whyshould so much fine needle-work and delicate trimming be prepared to bestowed away out of sight of prying mortals, for whose vision women arepresumed to dress themselves? Are they got up to show to friends andexcite envy, and to fill the minds of other young people with a sense ofthe difficulties of getting married?

One day, when I happened in, —by accident, of course, —and the motherhappened to be out on one of her many pilgrimages to town, Bessie tookme up to her room in a half-frightened way, as if doing something thatshe was afraid was terribly improper, and showed me a bewilderingprofusion of these things, neatly tucked away in bureau drawers. Ilaughed outright, and asked her who was to see all that finery. She wasvexed and bit her lip, and I was sorry and voted myself a brute. Fromthat moment, I determined not to say a word about the clothes, except toexpress unstinted admiration. 

There was not only clothing, but blankets and quilts and bed linen, though we were to live in her old home, which was already well supplied. One would suppose that a large and sudden increase of family wasexpected at once. These things annoyed me as senseless, and as absorbingso much of my Bessie’s attention that we didn’t have half the blissfultimes together that we had before our engagement was an acknowledgedthing. But I knew that it was the mother’s doings. Bessie did not reallyhave any foolish care for dress, though always beautifully arrayedwithout any apparent effort; but she supposed it was the proper thing, and submitted to her mother. 

But there was one thing I set my heart on. I wanted a quiet wedding, without display or pretence. It did seem to me that this was a privateoccasion in which the wishes of the persons chiefly concerned should beconsulted. It was their business and should be conducted in their ownway. Bessie sympathized with me, and wanted of all things to go tochurch quietly and privately, and then, after a leave-taking with a fewintimate friends at home, start right off on our proposed trip to theWhite Mountains. But no; we were inexperienced, and the widow knew whatthe occasion demanded much better than we did. She was a little grand inher ideas, and felt the importance of keeping on good terms withsociety. I was disposed to apply profane epithets to society, and toinsist that this marriage was mine and Bessie’s, and nobody’s else. Butwhat was the use? There would be unpleasant feelings, and the mamma mustbe conciliated, and so I yielded after a warm but altogetheraffectionate little controversy with Bessie. 

Every time I came to the house now, I was informed of some new featurewhich Mrs. P. Had decided upon as indispensable to the gorgeousness ofthe occasion. 

“Have you ordered your dress suit yet?” she asked one evening. 

“Dress suit? Oh yes. I had almost forgotten that. ”

“And, by the way, those cards? I think you had better send them out:you write such a good, legible hand. ”

“Y-e-s, oh yes. With pleasure. ”

“When you go to the city to-morrow, I wish you would drop in at Draper’sand get me a few little things. I have made out a list, so it won’t beany trouble to you. ”

“No trouble at all. Glad to do it. ”

“That white ribbon should be medium width. And before I forget it, haveyou written yet to your friend De Forest about his standing up?”

“No, I forgot it. I’ll drop him a line to-morrow. But what do you wantthat ribbon to be so long for?”

“That is to be held across the aisle by the ushers, you know, to keepoff the _ignobile vulgus_. You and Bessie will march up _here_, you see, preceded by the four ushers and the bridesmaids and groomsmen, who willthen range themselves off this way. The members of the families and thefriends will be separated from the other people _thus_. It’s verypretty. Belle Graham was married that way at St. Thomas’s, and everybodysaid it was splendid. ”

This is the kind of talk I had to listen to for weeks, and is it anywonder that I grew thin and had sleepless nights?

I was now a mere puppet in the hands of Mrs. Pinkerton, and came andwent as she pulled the wires. She had arranged that the affair was totake place in “her church”—and a very fashionable temple of worship itwas. Her rector was to officiate, assisted by the vealy young man whohad just graduated from the theological seminary. There were to be fourbridesmaids and an equal number of groomsmen and of ushers. I shouldhave liked to have something to say about who should “stand up” with us, as Mrs. Pinkerton expressed it; but when I timidly suggested that someof my friends would be available for the purpose, I was taken aback tolearn that the entire list had been made up and decided upon without myknowledge, and that only one of the groomsmen chosen was a friend ofmine, —De Forest, —the others being young men whom the worthy Mrs. Pinkerton had selected from her list of society people. One of the youngmen was a downright fool, if I must call things by their right names, but he dressed to perfection; the remaining two I scarcely knew bysight, but I did know that one of them had seen the time when he aspiredto occupy the place I was now filling in respect to the Pinkertonhousehold: need I say more concerning my sentiments regarding him?

The ushers, —well, of course, they were the four young gentlemen whoknew everybody who was anybody, and I could not object to them, considering that they charged nothing for their onerous services. 

The bridesmaids were all old school friends of Bessie’s, and two of themwere considered pretty, and the other two were stylish. 

One of my keenest regrets was that Bessie’s brother George was away offin Paris, and could not grace the occasion with his superb presence; forhe was a superb fellow in all respects, and I felt a true brotherlyaffection for him. Had he not introduced me to Bessie? Had he not alwayswanted me to become his brother-in-law?

The great day came at last. The town was full of the invited people, andthe weather, so anxiously looked to on such occasions, was all thatcould be desired. My remembrance of the solemn events of that day isnow rather misty. I remember the tussle De Forest and I had with mycollar and cravat in the morning, and how he stuck pins into my neck, and wrestled mightily with his own elaborate toilet. I remember, andthis very distinctly, how awfully tight were my new patent-leatherboots, which caused me for the time being the most excruciating anguish. Beyond these, and similar minor things which have a way of sticking inthe memory, all the rest is very much like a vivid dream. The closecarriage whirling through the streets; a great crush of people, withhere and there a familiar, smiling face; Bessie in her wedding-dress ofwhite silk, with her long veil and twining garlands of orange blossoms;the bridesmaids, radiant in tarletan, with pretty blue bows and sashes;the long aisle, up which we marched with slow and reverent tread; thepealing measures of the Wedding Chorus; the dignified and fatherlyclergyman; the vealy young assistant; the unction of the slowly intonedwords of the marriage-service; the fumbling for the ring, —and throughit all there rises, as out of a mist, the face of my mother-in-law, thepresiding genius of it all, the unknown quantity in the equation of mymarried life, now begun amid the felicitations, more or less sincere, ofa host of kissing, hand-shaking, smiling, chattering, good-naturedaunts, uncles, cousins, and relatives of all degrees. 

CHAPTER IV. 

MOUNTAINS AND MORE MOTHER-IN-LAW. 

So the bells were rung, metaphorically speaking, and we were wed. I hada long leave of absence from the banking-house in which I held aresponsible and confidential position, and we started for the mountains, leaving mamma Pinkerton to put things to rights and follow us in afortnight, when we had decided to settle down for a month’s quiet stayin a picturesque town of the mountain region. Oh, the unrestrained joyof that fortnight! Everybody at the hotels seemed to know by instinctthat we were a newly-married pair, and knowing glances passed betweenthem. But what did we care? With pride and a conscious embarrassmentthat made my hand tremble, I wrote on the registers in a bold hand“Charles Travers and wife. ” I asked for the best room with a pleasantout-look. The smiling clerk, trained to dissimulation, would appear asunconscious as the blank safe behind him, but he knew all the while, thesly rascal, that we were on a wedding trip, and he paid specialattention to our comfort. We saw the glories and wonders of themountains, and shared their inspiration as with a single heart. We roseearly to drink the clear air and greet the rising sun together. Westrolled out in the evening to romantic spots, and there, with armsaround each other, as we walked or stood gazing on the scene andlistening to the rustling breeze, we were happy. For two weeks our livesblended with each other and with nature, and it was with a sigh that wemounted the lumbering stage to take up our sojourn in the retired townon the hills. We came to the little hotel just at night, and were staredat and commented upon by those who had been there three days and assumedthe air of having had possession for years. We were tired, and keptaloof that evening, and the next day mother-in-law arrived. 

As she dismounted from the coach, she gave the driver a severe warningto be careful of her trunk, an iron-bound treasure that would havedefied the efforts of the most determined baggage-smasher. Bessie hadflown to meet her, and their greeting was affectionate; but to me theold lady presented a hand encased in a mitt, or sort of glove withamputated fingers, and gave me a stately, “I hope you are well, sir, ”that rather made me feel sick. She looked full at me in her steady andcommanding way, as much as to say, “Well, you have committed noatrocious crime yet, I suppose; but I am rather surprised at it. ”

If there is anything I pride myself on, it is self-possession and awillingness to face anybody and give as good as I get, but thatmagnificently imperious way of looking with those large eyes alwaysdisconcerted me. I could not brace myself enough to meet them with anyshow of impudence, though the old lady had not ceased to regard that asthe chief trait of my character. As Mrs. Pinkerton trod with statelystep the rude piazza of that summer hotel, she put her eye-glasses onand surveyed its occupants with a look that made them shrink intothemselves and feel ashamed to be sitting about in that idle way. Ibelieve the old lady’s eyesight was good enough, and that she used herglasses, with their gold bows and the slender chain with which they weresuspended about her neck, for effect. I noticed that if they were not onshe always put them on to look at anything, and if they happened to beon she took them off for the same purpose. 

“Well, ” she said, going into the little parlor, and looking from thewindows, “this really seems to be a fine situation. The view of themountains is quite grand. ”

“Very kind of you to approve of the mountains, but you could give thempoints on grandeur, ” I thought; but I merely remarked, “We find it quitepleasant here. ”

She turned and glanced at me without reply, as much as to say, “Whoaddressed you, sir? You would do well to speak when you are spoken to. ”I was abashed, but was determined to do the agreeable so far as I could, in spite of the rebuke of those eyes. 

“The house doesn’t seem to me to be very attractive, ” she continued, glancing around with a gaze that took in everything through all thepartition walls, and assuming a tone that meant, “I am speaking to you, Bessie, and no one else. ” “What sort of people are there here?”

“Oh, some very pleasant people, I should judge, ” said Bessie, “but wehave been here only one day, you know, and have made no acquaintances tospeak of. Charlie’s friend, Fred Marston, from the city, is here withhis wife; and I met a young lady to whom I took quite a fancy thismorning, a Miss Van Duzen. She is quite wealthy, and an orphan, and ishere with her uncle, a fine-looking gentleman, who is president of abank, or an insurance company, or some thing of the sort. You saw him, Ithink, on the piazza, —the large man, with gray side-whiskers, whitevest, and heavy gold chain. ”

“Yes, I noticed him. A pompous-looking old gentleman, isn’t he?”

“Oh, he is dignified in his manner, but not at all pompous, ” was thereply. 

“Well, I call him pompous, if looks mean anything, ” said the mother, with the air of one to whom looks were quite sufficient. “I think I willgo to my room, ” she added, and turned a glance on me, as much as to say, “You needn’t come, sir. ” I had no intention of going, and wandered outon the piazza, feeling as though Bessie had almost been taken away fromme again. 

When she rejoined me, leaving her mother above stairs, I asked, “Whatdoes she think of her room?”

“Well, it doesn’t quite suit her. She thinks the furniture scanty andshabby, water scarce, towels rather coarse, and she can’t endure thesight of a kerosene lamp; but she will make herself quite comfortable, Idare say. ”

“And everybody else uncomfortable, ” I felt like adding, but restrainedmyself. 

She came down to tea, and being offered a seat on the other side of mefrom Bessie, firmly declined it, and took the one on the other side ofher daughter from me. As she unfolded her napkin she took in the wholetable with a searching glance, and had formed a quick estimate ofeverybody sitting around it. Miss Clara Van Duzen and Mr. Desmond, heruncle, sat opposite, and an introduction across the table took place. The young lady was vivacious and talkative, and tried to make herselfagreeable, but my mother-in-law did not like what she afterwards calledher “chatter, ” and set her down as a frivolous young person. “Miss Van, ”as everybody called her, with her own approval, —for, as she said, shedetested the Duzen which her Dutch ancestors had bequeathed her withtheir other property, —was of New York Knickerbocker origin, now livingwith her uncle in Boston, and was by no means frivolous, thoughuncommonly lively. She had fine, brown eyes, beautiful hair, and acomplexion that defied sun and wind. It had the rosy glow of health, andindicated a good digestion and high spirits. Mr. Desmond seemed to bemostly white vest, immaculate shirt-front, and gold chain, thelast-named article being very heavy and meandering through thebutton-holes of his vest and up around his invisible neck. He saidlittle, and was evidently not much given to light conversation. He wasvery gracious in his attentions to the ladies, however, and seemed topay special deference to Mrs. Pinkerton. I afterwards learned that hewas a widower of long standing, without chick or child, and the guardianof his niece, whom he regarded with great admiration. 

Down at the other end of the table was Marston, evidently giving ventto his impatience about something, and his wife, with fierce eyes, telling him, in manner if not in words, not to make a fool of himself. The rest of the company was made up either of transient visitors or ofpersons with whom this story has nothing in particular to do. 

As we emerged on the piazza after tea, Fred, who had impolitely gone outin advance, called out, “Charlie, old boy, come over here and have asmoke!”

I must confess that these long sittings on the piazzas of summer hotelshad lured me back to my old habits, which I had forsworn in my effortsto conciliate Bessie’s mother. Bessie had encouraged me in it, for totell the truth she rather liked the fragrance of a good cigar, anddearly loved to see me enjoying it. It was my nature to defy the wholeworld and be master of my own habits, but I had felt a mean inclination, after mother-in-law joined the party, to slink away and smoke on thesly. There was nothing for it now, however, but to put on a bold face, or play the hypocrite and pretend I didn’t smoke. The latter I wouldnot do, and if I had attempted it, it wouldn’t go down with Fred, and Ishould have been in a worse predicament than ever. I went boldly acrossthe piazza and took the proffered cigar. Glancing out at the corner ofmy eye as I was lighting it, I saw my mother-in-law regarding me throughher glasses with increased disfavor. She did not, however, seem to besurprised, and doubtless believed me capable of any perfidy. 

“I say, Charlie, old boy, let’s have a game of billiards, ” said Fred, after a few puffs. “I’ll give you twenty points and beat you out of yourboots. ” Now I was very fond of billiards, and usually didn’t care whoknew it, but Mrs. Pinkerton did not approve of the game, and had noknowledge that I indulged in it. But Fred would speak in that absurdshouting way of his, and all the ladies heard him. Again I mustered upresolution and went into the billiard room, but I played veryindifferently, and was thinking all the time of my mother-in-law and heropinion of me. I really wanted to get into her good graces, but itrequired the sacrifice of all my own inclinations, and I despised a manwho deliberately played the hypocrite to win anybody’s favor. 

After two or three listless games I said to Fred, “I guess I will jointhe ladies. ” I was feeling some qualms of conscience for staying awayfrom Bessie a whole hour at once. 

“Oh, hang the ladies!” was Fred’s graceless response; “they can takecare of themselves. My wife gets along well enough without me, I know, and yours will soon learn to be quite comfortable without your guardianpresence; besides she’s got her mother now. By the way, what a mightygrand old dowager Mrs. Pink is!”

“Pinkerton is her name, ” I said, a little haughtily, as if resenting theliberty he took with my mother-in-law’s cognomen. 

“Oh, yes, I know, but the name is too long; and besides, she reminds oneof a full-blown pink, a little on the fade, perhaps, but still with agood deal of bloom about her. Is she going to live with you? Preciousfine time you will have!” he added, having received his answer by a nod. “She’ll boss the shebang, you bet!”

“Oh, I guess not, ” I answered, not liking his slangy way of talkingabout my affairs, and resolving in my own mind that I would be master inmy own house. 

“Well, then there’ll be a fine old tussle for supremacy, and don’t youforget it!”

With this remark Fred wandered off down the dusty road, humming MadameAngot, and I drew up a chair by Bessie’s side. She had evidently beenwishing I would come. Mr. Desmond was sitting a little apart from therest, twisting his fingers in his watch-chain and looking intently atthe mountain-top opposite, as if expecting somebody to come over with adispatch for him. Mrs. Pinkerton sat by her daughter’s side in calmgrandeur, her gray puffs—that fine silver-gray that comes prematurelyon aristocratic brows—seeming like appendages of a queenly diadem. MissVan had been diverting the company with a lively account of her day’sadventures. She was always having adventures, and had a faculty ofrelating them that was little short of genius. 

“Well, my dear, are you having a good time?” I murmured in Bessie’s ear. 

“Oh, yes; but I was feeling a little lonesome without you. ”

The conversation degenerated into commonplace about the scenery andpoints of interest in the neighborhood, and after a while the companydispersed with polite good-evenings. 

When we reached our room, I remarked to Bessie, who seemed more quietthan usual, “I hope your mother will like it here. ”

“Oh, yes, I guess she will like it when she has been here a littlewhile, ” was the answer. “You know she has not been away from home much, of late years, except to the seaside with the Watsons and other of herold friends, and she does not adapt herself readily to strange company. ”

I said nothing more, but was absorbed in thought about my mother-in-law. It is evident by this time that she was no ordinary woman, no coarse orwaspish mother-in-law, but a woman of good breeding and the highestcharacter. She was intelligent and well-informed, a consistent member ofthe Episcopal Church, with the highest views of propriety and areverential regard for the rules of conduct laid down by good society. This made her all the harder to deal with. If she were a common orvulgar sort of mother-in-law, I could assert my prerogatives withoutcompunction; and I was forced to admit that she was a very worthy woman, and not given to petty meddling, but I felt that her presence was anawful restraint. Without her we could have such good times, going andcoming as we pleased, and acting with entire freedom; but she must becounted in, and was a factor that materially affected the result. Shecould not be ignored; her opinions could not be disregarded. That wouldbe rude, and besides, their influence would make itself felt. Strange, the irresistible effect of a presence upon one! She might not openlyinterfere or directly oppose, but there she was, and she didn’t approveof me or like my friends, could not fall in with my ways or my wishes, and make one of any company in which I should feel at ease, and I knewthat her presence would be depressing, and spoil our summer’s pleasure;and after that was over and we were at home, what? Well, sufficient untothe day is the evil thereof. We slept the sound sleep that mountain andcountry quiet brings, and took the chances of the future. 

CHAPTER V. 

THE RISE AND FALL. 

During the next week of our stay at the Fairview hotel, it grew ratherdull. There was little to do but drive on the long country roads, orwander over the hills and in the fields and woods. I could have foundplenty of pleasure in that with Bessie and a party of congenial friends, but it didn’t seem to be right always to leave my worthy mother-in-lawbehind, with her crochet work or the last new novel from the city, onthe sunny piazza or in her dim little chamber. She was not averse todrives, in fact enjoyed them very much, but she seemed to divine that Idid not really want her company, though I protested, as became a dutifulson-in-law, that I should be very glad to take her at any time. She didgo with us once or twice, but the laughter and romping behavior whichgave our rides their chief zest were extinguished, and we jogged alongin the most proper manner, professing admiration for the outlines of thehills and the far-away stretches of scenery between the more distantmountains. We returned as quiet and demure as if we had been to afuneral. Mrs. Pinkerton saw the effect, and with her fine feeling ofindependence, she politely but firmly declined to go afterwards. As forwalking on anything but level sidewalks or gravel-paths, she could notthink of such a thing. The idea of her climbing a hill or gettingherself over a fence seemed ridiculous to anybody that knew her. 

So it was that we were continually forced to leave her behind, or denyourselves the chief recreation of the country. I was sincerelydisinclined to slight her in any way, and desirous of contributing toher pleasure, but what could I do? A fellow can’t get an iceberg toenjoy tropical sunshine. Our dislike to leave the old lady alone, although she insisted that she didn’t mind it at all, led us to pass alarge portion of each day, sometimes all day, about the house. It was“deuced stupid, ” to use Marston’s elegant phrase, but there was littleto do for it. To be sure, there was Desmond, “old Dives, ” Fred calledhim. He seldom went out of sight of the house, but he had a perfectmail-bag of newspapers and letters every morning, and spent the forenoonindoors, holding sweet communion with them and answering hiscorrespondents. In the afternoon he sat on the piazza by the hour, contemplating the mountain-top that had such a fascination for him. Hehad a prodigious amount of information on all manner of subjects, and aquick and accurate judgment; but he was generally very reticent, as hetipped back in his chair and twisted his fingers in and out of that finegold chain. My mother-in-law, from her shady nook of the piazza, wouldglance at him occasionally from her work or her book, as much as to say, “It is strange people can’t make some effort to be agreeable, instead ofbeing so stiff and dignified all the afternoon”; but he seemedunconscious of her looks and her mental comments. His thoughts wereprobably in the marts of trade. 

Fred was continually going off to distant towns, or down to the greathotels in the mountains, for livelier diversion. His wife often insistedon going with him, to his evident disgust, not because she cared to bein his company, but because she wanted to go to the same places andcould not well go alone. Now, Fred wasn’t a bad fellow at heart. I hadknown him for years, and used to like him exceedingly. But he was leftwithout a father at an early age, with a considerable fortune, and hismother was indulgent and not overwise. He got rather fast as he grew up, and then he contracted a thoughtless marriage with Lizzie Carleton, ahandsome and stylish young lady, fond of dress and gay society, andwithout a notion of domestic responsibility or duty. Like most women whoare not positively bad, she had in her heart a desire to be right, butshe didn’t know how. She was all impulse, and gave way to whims andfeelings, as if helpless in any effort to manage her own waywardness. Asa natural consequence there were constant jars between the pair. Fredtook to his clubs and mingled with men of the race-course and thebilliard halls, and Lizzie beguiled herself as best she could with herfashionable friends. 

And where was Miss Van Duzen these long and tedious days? They werenever tedious to her, for she was always on the go. She would go offalone on interminable strolls, and bring back loads of flowers andstrange plants, and she could tell all about them too. Her knowledge ofbotany was wonderful, and she could make very clever sketches; she wouldsit by the hour on some lonely rock, putting picturesque scenery onpaper, just for the love of it; for when the pictures were done shewould give them away or throw them away without the least compunction. She had a fine sense of the ludicrous and was all the time seeing funnythings, which she described in a manner quite inimitable. She had grownup in New York, before her father’s death, in the most select ofKnickerbocker circles, but there was not a trace of aristocracy in herways. She was sociable with the ostler and the office-boy, and agreeableto the neighboring farmers, talking with them with a spirit that quitedelighted them. And yet there was nothing free and easy in her ways thatencouraged undue familiarity. It was merely natural ease and goodnature. She inspired respect in everybody but my mother-in-law, who waspuzzled with her conduct, so different from her own ideas of propriety, and yet so free from real vulgarity. Mrs. Pinkerton could by no meansapprove of her, and yet she could accuse her of no offence which themost rigid could seriously censure. 

Miss Van was the life of the company when she was about, telling of heradventures, getting up impromptu amusements in the parlor, and planningexcursions. She was the only person in the world, probably, who wasquite familiar with Mr. Desmond, and she would sit on his knee, pull hiswhiskers, and call him an “awful glum old fogy, ” whereat he would laughand say she had gayety enough for them both. He admired and loved herfor the very qualities that he lacked. 

All this while I was trying to win the gracious favor of mymother-in-law, but it was up-hill work. She would answer me with severepoliteness, and volunteer an occasional remark intended to be pleasant, but the moment I seemed to be gaining headway, a turn at billiards withMarston, for whom she had a great aversion, a thoughtless expressionwith a flavor of profanity in it, or my cigars, which I now indulged inwithout restraint, brought back her freezing air of disapproval. 

“Oh, dear!” I yawned sometimes, “why can’t I go ahead and enjoy myselfwithout minding that very respectable and severe old woman?” But Icouldn’t do it. I was always feeling the influence of those eyes, andeven of her thoughts. I couldn’t get away from it. Sunday came, and Mrs. Pinkerton expressed the hope that we were to attend divine servicetogether. I hadn’t thought of it till that moment, and then it struck meas a terrible bore. There was no church within ten miles except a littlewhite, meek edifice in the neighboring village, occupied alternately byMethodist and Baptist expounders of a very Calvinistic, and, to me, avery unattractive sort of religion. It was not altogether to mymother-in-law’s liking, but she regarded any church as far better thannone. 

“I presume you will go, sir, ” she said, addressing me when I made noreply to the previous hint. She always used “sir, ” with a peculiaremphasis, when any suggestion was intended to have the force of acommand. 

“Well, really, I had not thought about it, ” I said, rather vexed, as Isecretly made up my mind, reckless of my policy of conciliation, that Iwould not go at any price. A tedious, droning sermon of an hour andperhaps an hour and a half in a country church, full of dismaldoctrines, —the sermon, not the church, —I couldn’t stand, I thought. 

Mrs. Pinkerton’s eyes were upon me, waiting for a more definite answer. “I—well, no, I don’t think I really feel like it this morning. Ithought I would read to Bessie quietly in our room, and take a rest. ”

“Very well, sir, ” she said, “Bessie and I will walk down to thevillage. ”

“The deuce you will!” I thought; “walk a mile and a half on a dustyroad; to be bored!” I knew it was useless to protest, and I was toowilful to take back what I had said, have the team harnessed, and go, like a good fellow, to church. “No, I’ll be blowed if I do!” I muttered. 

So off went the widow and her daughter without me. Bessie tripped aroundto me on the piazza, looking like a fairy in her white dress and bit ofblue ribbon, gave me a sweet kiss, and said, “I’ll be back beforedinner. Have a nice quiet time, now. ”

“Oh, yes; have a nice quiet time, and you gone off with that olddragon!” It was a wicked thought, for she was not a bit of a dragon, butthe feeling came over me that I was going to feel miserable all theforenoon, and so I did. Miss Van and her uncle had gone early to theneighboring town, the largest in the county, for church and theopportunity of observing; Fred and his wife had gone, the night before, round to the other side of the mountains, where there was to be a sortof ball or hop at the leading hotel; and the rest of the people in thehouse might as well have been in the moon, for all that I cared aboutthem. A nice quiet time! Oh, yes; lounging about and trying to think ofsomething besides Mrs. Pinkerton and my own shabby behavior. I would tentimes rather have been in the dullest country church that ever echoed tothe voice of the old and unimproved theology of Calvin’s day. But I wasin for it, and lay in the hammock and looked through the stables, triedto read, tried to sleep, started on a walk and came back, and almostcursed the quiet country Sunday, as specially calculated to make a manof sense feel wretched. 

At last Bessie and her mother returned, and we had dinner. In theafternoon I was an outcast from Mrs. Pinkerton’s favor, but I had Bessieand read to her, and, on the whole, got through the rest of the daycomfortably. 

The week following I began to feel that this was getting tiresome. Underother circumstances it might be very pleasant, but really I began todoubt whether I was enjoying it. But I made up my mind that during thesedays of leisure I ought to be making progress in the favor of mymother-in-law, with whom I was destined to live, nobody could say howmany years. I couldn’t and wouldn’t make a martyr or a hypocrite ofmyself. I wouldn’t conceal my actions or deny myself freedom. So Ismoked with Fred, played billiards, rolled ten-pins with Fred’s wife andMiss Van, and even beguiled Bessie into that vigorous and healthfulexercise, which brought a gentle reprimand from her mother, addressed toher but directed at me. She did not think that kind of amusementbecoming to ladies who had a proper respect for themselves. 

“Why, mamma, Miss Van Duzen plays, and says she thinks it jolly fun, ”said Bessie innocently. 

“That doesn’t alter the case in the least, ” was the rejoinder. “Miss VanDuzen can judge for herself. I don’t think it proper. Besides, yourhusband’s familiar way with those ladies—one of whom is married and nobetter than she ought to be, if appearances mean anything—does notplease me at all. ”

“O mamma, how absurd! I see no harm in it at all, and poor Lizzie, I amsure, never means any harm. ”

“Well, well, my dear, I don’t wish to say anything about other people, and I only hope you will never have occasion to see any harm in yourhusband’s evident preference for the company of people with loosenotions about proper and becoming behavior. ”

On Saturday of that week a little incident occurred that raised meperceptibly in Mrs. Pinkerton’s estimation. The great, lumberingstage-coach came up just at evening, more heavily laden than usual, andtop-heavy with trunks piled up on the roof. The driver dashed along withhis customary recklessness, the six horses breaking into a canter asthey turned to come up the rather steep acclivity to the house. Thecoach was drawn about a foot from its usual rut, one of the wheelsstruck a projecting stone, and over went the huge vehicle, passengers, trunks, and all. The driver took a terrible leap and was stunned. Thehorses stopped and looked calmly around on the havoc. There was greatconsternation in and about the house. Here my natural self-possessioncame into full play. I took command of the situation at once, directedprompt and vigorous efforts to the extrication of the passengers, hadthe injured ones taken into the house, applied proper restoratives, andin a few minutes ascertained that only one was seriously hurt. She was ayoung girl, who had insisted on riding outside, higher up even than thedriver. She had been thrown headlong, striking, fortunately, on thegrass, but terribly bruising one side of her face and dislocating herleft shoulder. In a trice I had made her as comfortable as possible;dashed down to the village for the nearest doctor, having had theforethought to order a team harnessed in anticipation of such anecessity; and, having started the doctor up in a hurry, kept on to theneighboring county town for a surgeon who had considerable localreputation. I had him on the ground in a surprisingly short time, andbefore bedtime the unfortunate girl was put in the way of recovery, having received no internal injury. 

My behavior in this affair, as I said, gave me a lift in mymother-in-law’s estimation, and of course filled Bessie with the mostunbounded admiration, though I had never thought of the moral effect ofmy action. In the morning I determined to follow up my advantage. It wasSunday again, and I bespoke the team early, to go to the neighboringtown, where there was an Episcopal church, and where, for that day, adistinguished divine from the city, who was spending his vacation inthose parts, was to hold forth. When I had announced my preparation forthe religious observance of the day, I actually received what wasalmost a smile of approval from my mother-in-law. I enjoyed the ride, and was not greatly bored by the service, for I was thinking ofsomething else most of the time, or amusing my mind with the nativecongregation. We got back late to dinner, and the rest had left thedining-room. The ladies went in without removing their bonnets, andafter dinner retired to their rooms. 

As I came out on the piazza, Fred, who was walking about in a restlessway, puffing his cigar with a sort of ferocity, as though determined toput it through as speedily as possible, shouted, “Hello! Charlie, oldboy, where the eternal furies have you been? Here I have been about thisdead, sleepy, stupid place all the morning, with nothing to do andnobody to speak to!”

“Why, where’s Mrs. M. ?”

“Lib? Oh, she’s been here, but then she was reading a ghastly stupidnovel, and wasn’t company; and she went off to the big boarding-housedown the road half a mile, to dine with a friend. I wouldn’t go to theblasted place, and really think she didn’t want me to. But where inthunder were you all the while?”

“At church, to be sure, with my wife and her mother. ”

“Oh, yes!” was the reply, peculiarly prolonged, as if the idea neveroccurred to him before. “How long since you became so pious, old man?Didn’t suppose you knew what the inside of a church was used for. Theoutside is mainly useful to put a clock on, where it can be seen. OldPink, —beg pardon! Mrs. Pinkerton, —I suppose, dragged you along by mainforce. ”

“Not at all. I went of my own motion; in fact, suggested it to theladies. ”

“You don’t say so! Well, I see she is bringing you around. It is shethat is destined to gain the supremacy. ”

“Pshaw! Is my going to church such an indication of submission? Itwouldn’t do you any harm to go to church once in a while, Fred. ”

“Well, I don’t know about that, ” he said, taking out his cigar, andstretching his feet to the top of the balustrade; “I don’t know aboutthat. I am afraid it might be the ruin of me. I might become awfullypious, and then what a stick and a moping man of rags I should become. Itell you, Charlie, my boy, there’s many a good fellow spoilt by toomuch church and Sunday school. ”

“Perhaps, ” I replied, “but you and I are beyond danger. ”

“Well, yes, but you can’t be too careful of yourself, you know. ”

There was no answering that, and we relapsed into commonplace, andfinished our cigars. 

“Where’s old Dives to-day, and his charming niece, the lively Van?”asked Fred, after an uncommon fit of silent contemplation. 

“They went over to some town thirty or forty miles away, yesterday, andhaven’t got back, ” I replied. 

“I tell you, that girl knows how to circumvent these stupid Sundays, don’t she, though? And she takes old Dives along wherever she wants togo. I believe she would take him where the other Dives went, if she wasdisposed to take a trip there herself. But, holy Jerusalem! what are weto do to get through the rest of the day. No company, no billiards, nofishing. Confound the prejudices of society. I tell you, it is just suchwomen as that mother-in-law of yours that keep society intimidated, asit were, into artificial proprieties. Now where’s the harm of a pleasantgame on a Sunday, more than sitting here and grumbling and cursingbecause there’s nothing to do?”

I made no reply, and Fred lighted another cigar. He was evidentlythinking of something. “Look here, old fellow, ” he said at length in anundertone, something very unusual with him, “come up to my room. Youhaven’t seen it. Lib won’t be back till teatime, and perhaps we can findsomething to amuse ourselves. ”

He led the way and I followed, thinking no harm. His room was up stairsand on the back of the house, looking up the great hill that stretchedback to the clouds. As we entered, I found he had brought a good manythings with him, and given the room much the air of the quarters of abachelor in the city. His sleeping-room was separate from that, andformed a sort of boudoir for his wife. He motioned me to an easy-chair, set a box of fine cigars on the table, and going to the closet broughtout a decanter of sherry and some glasses. 

“In these cursed places, you can get nothing to drink, ” he said, “unless on the sly, and I hate that; so I bring along my own beverages, you see. ”

I saw and tasted, and found it very good. He was still fumbling aboutthe closet, with profane ejaculations, and finally emerged withsomething in his hand that I at first took for a small book. But heunblushingly put on the table that pasteboard volume sometimes calledthe Devil’s Bible. “Come, ” he said, “where’s the harm? Let us have aquiet game of Casino or California Jack, or something else. It is betterthan perishing of stupidity. ”

I demurred. I was not over-scrupulous, but I had sufficient of my earlybreeding left to have a qualm of conscience at the thought of playingcards on Sunday. 

“Oh, nonsense!” said Fred, carelessly, as he proceeded to deal the cardsfor Casino. “There, you have an ace and little Casino right before you. Go ahead, old man!”

I made a feeble show of protesting, but took up my cards, and, findingthat I could capture the ace and little Casino, took them. From that theplay went on; I became quite absorbed, and dismissed my scruples, when, as the sun was getting low, a shadow passed the window. 

“Great Jupiter!” I exclaimed, looking up. “Does that second-story piazzago all the way round here?”

“To be sure, ” answered Fred, whose back was to the window. “Why not?What did you see, —a spook?”

“My mother-in-law!”

“The devil!”

“No, Mrs. Pinkerton!”

“Well, what do you care? You are your own boss, I hope. ”

“Yes, of course; but she will be terribly offended, and I think it wouldbe pleasanter for all concerned to keep in her good graces. ”

“Gammon! Assert your rights, be master of yourself, and teach the oldwoman her place. D—— me, if I would have a mother-in-law riding overme, or prying around to see what I was about!”

“Oh, I am sure she passed the window by accident. She would never pryaround; it isn’t her style; she has a fine sense of propriety, has mymother-in-law!”

“Oh, yes, old Pink is the pink of propriety, no doubt about that!” saidthe rascal, laughing heartily at his heartless pun. 

But I couldn’t laugh. I saw plainly enough that I had lost more than allthe ground that I had gained in my mother-in-law’s favor, and my taskwould be harder than ever. I had no more desire to play cards, andsauntered down stairs and out of doors as if nothing had happened. Atthe tea-table Mrs. Pinkerton was very impressive in her manner, butshowed no direct consciousness of anything new. On the piazza, aftertea, she was uncommonly affable to her daughter, and, I thought, alittle disposed to keep Bessie from talking to me. The latter appearedtroubled somewhat, and looked at me in an anxious way, as if longing torush into my arms and ask me all about it and say how willingly sheforgave me; but her mother kept her within the circle of her influence, and I sat apart, harboring unutterable thoughts and saying nothing. Atlast Mrs. Pinkerton arose, and said sweetly, “I wouldn’t stay out anylater, dear, it is rather damp. ”

“Stay with me, Bessie, ” I said, “I want to speak to you. Your mother isat liberty to go in whenever she pleases. ” It was then she gave me adisdainful look and swept in, and I muttered the wish regarding hertransportation to a distant clime, which brought out the gentle rebukewith which this story opens. 

I saw no prospect of enjoying a longer stay at the Fairview, unless someburglary or terrible accident should occur to give me chance for a newdisplay of my heroic qualities, and even then, I thought, it would be ofno use, for I should spoil it all next day. So we determined to go homea week earlier than we had intended. The Marstons were going to Canadaand Lake George, and wouldn’t reach home till October. Mr. Desmond andhis niece stayed a month longer where they were, and that would bringthem home about the same time. Bessie and I went home with a lack ofthat buoyant bliss with which we had travelled to the mountains andspent those first two weeks. There was no change in us, but it was alldue to my mother-in-law. 

CHAPTER VI. 

WHAT IS HOME WITHOUT A MOTHER-IN-LAW?

Home! We were back from the mountains, and our brief wedding-journey hadbecome a thing of the past. Mrs. Pinkerton’s iron-bound trunk had beenreluctantly deposited in her bed-chamber by a puffing and surlyhack-driver; and here was I, installed in the little cottage as head ofthe household, for weal or for woe. It was Mrs. Pinkerton’s cottage, tobe sure, but I entered it with the determination not to live there as aboarder or as a guest subject to the proprietor’s condescendinghospitality. I was able and not unwilling to establish a home of my own, and inasmuch as I refrained from doing so because of Mrs. Pinkerton’sdesire to keep her daughter with her, I had the right to consider myselfunder no obligation to my mother-in-law. 

The cottage was far from being a disagreeable place in itself. It wassmall, but extremely neat and pleasant. The rooms were furnished with adegree of quiet taste that defied criticism. The hand of an accomplishedhousekeeper was everywhere made manifest, and everything had an air ofrefinement and comfort. There was no ostentatious furniture; the chairswere made to sit in, but not to put one’s boots on. The cleanliness ofthe house was terrible. One could see that no man had lived there sincethe death of the late Pinkerton. 

Our room was the same that had been occupied by Bessie since she was aschool-girl in short frocks. It was full of Bessie’s “things, ” and itwas lucky that my effects occupied but very little space. 

“This is jolly, ” I said, as I sat down on the edge of the bed and pulleda cigar from my pocket. “How soon will supper be ready, I wonder?”

There was no response. Bessie was unpacking, —and such an unpacking!

I lighted my cigar and threw myself back on the bed, wondering how theyhad got on without me at the bank. Presently in came mother-in-law tolend a hand at the unpacking. She did not see me at first, but thefragrance of my Manila soon reached her nostrils, and she turned. 

Such a look as she cast upon me! It almost took my breath away. But shedid not say a word. “The subject is beyond her powers of speech, ” I saidto myself. “Let us hope it will be so as a general thing. ”

However, it made me feel uncomfortable, so by and by I got off the bedand went down stairs. 

At the supper-table I tried to make myself as agreeable as possible. Italked over the trip, and spoke of the people we had met at themountains; but I had most of the conversation to myself. Bessie did notseem to be in a mood to chat; Mrs. Pinkerton devoted herself to impalingme with her eyes once in a while; in a word, the mental atmosphere wasmuggy. 

“Desmond has travelled a great deal, ” I said. “I was speaking of Frenchpolitics the other day, and he gave me a long harangue on the situation. He was in Paris several years, when he was a good deal younger than heis now. ”

“Mr. Desmond is not a very old man, ” said Mrs. Pinkerton, “but he haspassed that age when men think they know all there is to be known. ”

I accepted this shot good-naturedly, and laughed. 

“His niece is a remarkably bright girl, ” I continued. “Don’t you thinkso?”

“I cannot say I think it either bright or proper for a young lady to gooff alone on mountain excursions for half a day, and return with herdress torn and her hands all scratched. ”

“Well, it was rather imprudent, but you know she said she had nointention of going so far when she started, and she missed her way. ”

“I did not hear her excuses. She appeared to be a spoiled child, and hermanners were insufferably offensive. I should have known she came fromNew York, even if I had not been told. ”

“Do you think all New-Yorkers are loud?”

“I said no such thing. There is a class of New York young people who areso ‘loud’ that respectable people cannot have anything to do with themwithout lowering themselves. Miss Van Duzen belongs to that class. ”

“You are rough on her, upon my word. I don’t think she’s half so bad, do you, Bessie?”

“I liked her very much, ” said Bessie. “She may not be our style exactly, but I think at heart she is a good, true girl. ”

“I wonder if she will call, ” I said. “By the way, Fred Marston is comingout to see us as soon as he gets back to the city. ”

“As to that young man, ” Mrs. Pinkerton remarked, with some show ofvivacity, “he impressed me as being little less than disreputable. ”

“Disreputable! I would have you understand that Fred Marston is one ofmy friends, ” I exclaimed, growing angry, “and he is as respectable asthe rector of St. Thomas’s Church!”

Phew! Now I had done it. Mrs. Pinkerton was thoroughly scandalized andoffended. She got up, and we left the table, Bessie looking troubled. Iwent into the library, and after lighting a cigar, sat down to read thepapers. Bessie, who had followed me, brushed the journal out of my handand seated herself on my knee. 

“Charlie, ” she said, kissing me, and smoothing the hair away from mybrow, “can’t you and mamma ever get along any better than this?”

“A conundrum! I never guessed one, so I shall have to give this up. Butdon’t you see how it is, dearest? I try to be good to her, and she won’tmeet me half-way. On the contrary, she tries to nag me, I think. Itwasn’t my fault to-night. What right has she to run down my friends? Ifshe don’t like them, she might leave them alone, and be precious surethey’d leave her alone. She don’t like smoking; I tried to swear off, tried mighty hard, but it was no use. You see—”

“It wasn’t quite necessary for you to make that remark about the Rev. Dr. McCanon, was it, Charlie?”

“Well, no; I’m sorry, but she provoked me to it. I’ll apologize. ”

“And then, Charlie, you will try to be a little more patient with mamma, won’t you?”

“Yes, I do try, but the trouble is that she don’t like me. Must I keepmy mouth shut, throw away my cigars, bounce all my friends, and sit upwith my arms folded?”

“Oh, no, dear. Be good to her, and be patient; it will all come aroundright in time. ”

That was Bessie’s way of lightening present troubles, —“It will all comearound right in time. ” Blessed hope! “Man never is, but always to beblest. ”

My duties now kept me at the bank nearly all day, and for a few weeksaffairs went on at home very smoothly. At table Mrs. Pinkertonmaintained a sphinx-like silence, and I directed my conversation toBessie. When the old lady opened her mouth, it was to snub me. The snubdirect, the snub indirect, the snub implied, and the snubfar-fetched, —I submitted to all with a cheerful spirit, and not a hastyretort escaped me. 

At Bessie’s request, I now smoked only in the library, or in our ownroom. I bought a highly ornamental Japanese affair, of curiousworkmanship, as a receptacle for cigar-ashes. Altogether, I behaved likea good boy. 

One evening Marston dropped in. When his card was brought up stairs, Ihanded it over to Bessie, and hurried to the library. 

“How are you, old man?” he said, or, rather, shouted. “How do you likeit, as far as you’ve got?”

“Tip-top. I’m glad to see you. When did you get back?”

“Last Saturday, and mighty glad to get back to a live place, too. Smoke?”

“Thank you. Bessie will be down in a minute. ”

“How’s old Pink?”

“S-s-h! She’s all right. Don’t speak so confoundedly loud. ”

“Ha, ha! I see how it is. By and by you won’t dare say your soul’s yourown. I pity you, Charlie, upon my word I do. Ned Tupney was married afew days ago, did you know it? and he’s got a devil of a mother-in-lawon his hands, a regular roarer—”

“Here comes my wife, ” I broke in. “For Heaven’s sake, change thesubject. Talk about roses!”

Bessie entered and exchanged a friendly greeting with Fred. 

“I was telling Charlie about some wonderful roses I saw at Primton’sgreen-house, ” said the unabashed visitor, and he forthwith laid asidehis cigar—on the tablecloth!—and launched into a glowing descriptionof the imaginary flowers. 

Before he had finished, Mrs. Pinkerton entered much to my surprise. Shebowed in a stately manner, inquired formally as to the state of Fred’shealth, and as she took a seat I saw her glance take in that cigar. 

Fred could talk exceedingly well when he was so disposed, and heentertained us excellently, I thought. He had seen a good deal of theworld, was a close observer, and had the faculty of chatting in afascinating way about subjects that would usually be called commonplace. He was pleased with the aspect of the cottage, and complimented itgracefully. 

“Love in a cottage, ” he sighed, casting a quick glance around theroom, —“well, it isn’t so bad after all, with plenty of books, apleasant garden, sunny rooms, a pretty view, and a mother-in-law to lookafter a fellow and keep him straight. ” And the wretch looked at Mrs. Pinkerton, and laughed in a sociable way. 

I promptly called his attention to a beautiful edition of Thackeray’sworks in the bookcase, a recent purchase. 

In the course of a half-hour’s call, Fred managed to introduce thedangerous topic at least a half-dozen times, and each time I wascompelled to choke him off by ramming some other subject down his throatwilly-nilly. 

Finally he rose to go. I accompanied him to the front door. 

“Sociable creature, old Pink, eh?” he said. “Doesn’t love me too well. Is she always as festive and amusing as to-night?”

“Hold on a minute, ” was my reply. I ran back and got my hat and cane, and accompanied him toward the railroad station. 

“See here, Fred, ” I said, “your intentions are good, but I wish youwould quit talking about Mrs. Pinkerton. I am doing my best to livepeaceably and comfortably in the same house with her, and you don’t helpme a bit with your gabble. She is a very worthy woman, and not half sostupid as you imagine. I admit that we don’t get along together quite asI could wish, but I’m trying to please my wife by being as good a sonas I can be to her mother. What’s the use of trying to rile up ourlittle puddle?”

“Oh, all right!” he rejoined. “If you prefer your puddle should bestagnant—admirable metaphor, by the way—it shall be as you wish. OnlyI hate to see the way things are going with you, and I’m bound to tellyou so. You are losing your spirit, tying your hands, and throwing allyour manly independence to the winds. If you live two years with thatirreproachable mummy, you won’t be worth knowing. Do you dare go intotown with me and have a game of billiards?”

I went. We had several games. I got home about midnight. The nextmorning, at the breakfast-table, Mrs. Pinkerton said dryly, —

“Your friend Marston pities you, doesn’t he?”

“I don’t know; if he does, he wastes his emotions, ” I replied. 

“I am glad you think so. He takes a good deal of interest in yourwelfare, and I suppose he could be prevailed upon to give you wiseadvice in case of need. ”

“I dare say. Fred is a good fellow, and advice is as cheap as dirt. ”

“And pity?”

“Pity! Why do you think Fred pities me? Why should he pity me?”

“Your question is hypocritical, because you know very well that hethinks you are a victim, —a victim of a terrible mother-in-law. ”

It was the first time she had ever spoken out so openly. I said, —

“We will leave it to Bessie. Bessie, do I look like a victim?”

“No, ” said Bessie, “but you are both the queerest puzzles! Mamma isalways her dearest self when you are away, Charlie. You don’t know eachother at all yet. When you are together you are both horrid, and whenyou are apart you are both lovely. And yet I don’t know why it should beso; there is no quarrel between you—and—and—”

And Bessie began to cry. I got up. 

“No, there’s no quarrel between us, ” I said; “but perhaps a straight-outrow would be better than forever to be eating our own vitals withsuppressed rancor. ”

Mrs. Pinkerton made as if she would go around to where Bessie sat, tocondole with her, without noticing my remark. 

“No, don’t trouble yourself, ” I cried. “It’s my place to comfort mywife. ” And I took Bessie in my arms tenderly, and kissed hertear-stained cheek almost fiercely. 

This theatrical demonstration caused my mother-in-law to sweep out ofthe room promptly, with her temper as nearly ruffled as I had ever seenit. 

“O Charlie!” whimpered my poor little wife despairingly, “what shall Ido? It’s awful to have you and mamma this way!”

And now it was my turn to say, “Cheer up, my love! It will all comearound right in time. ”

But my _arrière pensée_ was, “Would that that burglar had bagged the oldiceberg, and carried her off to her native Nova Zembla!”

CHAPTER VII. 

MISS VAN’S PARTY AND ANOTHER UNPLEASANTNESS. 

One day in the early fall, Mrs. Pinkerton received a letter postmarkedat Paris, which seemed to throw her into a state of extraordinaryexcitement. I knew her well enough to be certain that she would not tellme the news, but that I should hear it later through Bessie. Such wasthe case. When I came home towards evening and went up stairs to preparefor supper, Bessie, who was seated in our room, said in a joyful tone, —

“George is coming home next month!”

“That’s good, ” I said; and the more I thought of it the better itseemed. A new element would be infused into our home life with hisadvent, and I confidently believed that the widow’s society would bevastly more tolerable when he was among us. George had been so long inParis that he had become a veritable Parisian. That he would bringalong with him a large amount of Paris sunshine and vivacity to enliventhe atmosphere of our little circle, I felt certain. 

“Is he coming to stay?” I asked. 

“He don’t know. He says he never makes any plans for six months ahead. It will depend upon circumstances. ”

“Well, that’s Parisian. I’m very glad he’s coming, and I hopecircumstances will keep him here. Isn’t old Dr. Jones pretty nearlydead? Seems to me George could take his practice. ”

“Now, Charlie!”

“It’s all right, puss; doctors must die as well as their patients. ”

I broached the subject to mother-in-law at the supper-table, and—_mirabile dictu!_—she agreed with me that we must keep George withus when we got him. 

In November George arrived. He didn’t telegraph from New York, but cameright on by a night train, and, walking into the house while we were atbreakfast, took us by surprise. 

Mrs. Pinkerton taken by surprise was a funny phenomenon, and I’m afraidpropriety received a pretty smart blow when she threw her napkin into aplate of buckwheat cakes, dropped her eye-glasses, and rushed to meetthe long-lost prodigal. 

As for George, he brought such a gale into the house with him—there areplenty of them on the Atlantic in November—that everything seemedmetamorphosed. He laughed and shouted, and hugged first one of us andthen another, and finally sat down and ate breakfast enough for sixFrenchmen, every minute ripping out some wicked little French oath andwinking at his mother with the utmost complacency. Never since I hadbecome an inmate of the cottage had we enjoyed a meal so much as thatone. There was an _abandon_, an _insouciance_, an _esprit_, a_je-ne-sais-quoi_ about this young frog-eater that thoroughly carriedaway the whole party, including even Mrs. Pinkerton. 

When George had eaten everything he could find on the table, he lighteda cigarette, —right there in the dining-room, too, and under hismother’s eyes, —and we had a good, long, jolly talk together, Bessiesitting between us and feasting her eyes on her brother’s comeliness. He certainly was handsome. 

“I have no plans, ” he said, “except to loaf here awhile and wait for anopening. ”

“A French Micawber, ” said I. “And I suppose you know all about medicineand surgery?”

“I have learned when not to give medicine, I believe, and so, I think, Ican save lots of lives. ”

A few days after George’s arrival we received a call from the Watsons. Ihad never had the pleasure of meeting the Watsons, but I had had theWatsons held up before me as examples of the right sort of style so manytimes, that I felt already well acquainted with them. 

Mr. Watson was a very retiring, quiet little man, awed into obscurity byhis wife. After a long and persistent effort to interest him inconversation, I was compelled to give it up, and to leave him smilingblankly, with his gaze directed toward the Argand burner. 

Mrs. Watson was immense in every sense of the word. Her moral and mentaldimensions were awe-inspiring; and she delivered what I afterwardsfound, on reflection, to be very commonplace utterances in a style inwhich unction, dogmatism, self-satisfaction, and finality werepredominant. Once, when she had brought forth an unusually imposingsentence, her husband fairly smacked his lips. 

The Watsons had no children. They were among the most prominentattendants of St. Thomas’s, and the old gentleman was reputed to beworth about a million. 

George came in while the call was in progress, and after greeting theWatsons, he turned to Mrs. W. , and uttered one of the most polished, delicate, pleasing little compliments it has ever been my fortune tohear uttered. Then he quietly withdrew into the background. 

Just then some more callers were announced, and what was my surprise tosee Mr. Desmond and Miss Van Duzen enter. The former was as resplendentas to his watch-chain as ever, and his niece looked charming. Introductions all round followed, and the company broke up into groups. 

George took a seat near Miss Van, and a brisk fire of conversation wassoon under way between them, varied by frequent bursts of friendlylaughter. 

Mr. Desmond soon drew out Mr. Watson, and their talk was on stocks, bonds, and the like. 

After Mrs. Watson had proved her theory of the laws of the universe, andhad almost intoxicated my worthy mother-in-law with her glitteringrhetoric, the Watsons took their departure. Before the others followedtheir example, Miss Van extended an informal invitation to us to attenda “social gathering” at her uncle’s residence the following Wednesdayevening. 

We went, of course, Mrs. Pinkerton, George, Bessie, and I. It was apleasant party, and it could not have been otherwise with Miss Van asthe hostess. There was a little dancing, —not enough to entitle it to becalled a dancing-party; a little card-playing, —not enough to make it acard-party; and there was a vast amount of bright and pleasantconversation, but still one could not name it a _converzatione_. Thecompany was remarkably good, and Miss Van’s management, althoughimperceptible, was so skilful that her guests found themselves at theirease, and enjoying themselves, without knowing that their pleasure wasmore than half due to her _finesse_. 

George was quite a lion, and I envied his easy tact, his unconsciousgrace of manner, and his faculty of saying bright things without effort. He and Miss Van got on famously together, and she found him an efficientand trustworthy aid in her capacity as hostess. 

Mrs. Pinkerton made a lovely wall-flower, and I could not refrain from awicked chuckle when I saw her sitting on a sofa, exchanging commonplaceswith a puffing dowager. Presently, however, I noticed that she had gone, and I found that Mr. Desmond had been kind enough to relieve me from theonerous duty of taking her down to supper. 

I wish I had a printed bill of fare of that supper, for even George, fresh from Véfour’s and the Trois Frères Provençaux, acknowledged thatit was sublime, magnificent, perfect. We men folks, in fact, talked somuch about it afterwards, that Bessie rebuked us by remarking that “mendidn’t care about anything so much as eating. ”

As Fred Marston remarked to me, while helping himself a third time tothe salad, “It’s a stunning old lay-out, isn’t it!” His wife was there, dressed “to kill, ” as he himself said, and dancing with every gentlemanshe could decoy into asking her. 

After we had come up from the supper-room, Fred Marston pulled me into acorner, and inflicted on me a volley of stinging observations about thepeople in the room. George, Bessie, Mrs. Pinkerton, and Miss Van were, Isupposed, in one of the other rooms; I had lost sight of them. 

“Old Jenks lost a cool hundred thousand fighting the tiger at Saratoga, this last summer, ” said Fred. “I had it from a man who backed him. Doyou know that young widow talking with him near the end of the piano?No? Why, that’s Mrs. Delascelles, and a devil of a little piece sheis, —twice divorced and once widowed, and she isn’t a day overtwenty-five. You ought to know her. By the way, that brother of yours isa whole team, with a bull-pup under the wagon. Does he let old Pink bosshim around as she does you?”

“It’s a fine night, ” I said. 

“Delightful! I say, Charlie, it must be a terrible bore to lug the oldwoman around to all these shindigs with you, hey?”

“What do you think about the State election?” I demanded. 

“The Republicans have got a dead sure thing, I’ll lay you a V. She hasbulldozed you till you don’t dare open your head, my boy. Yours is oneof the saddest and most malignant cases of mother-in-law I ever struck. ”

“Fred, ” I said, in hopes of bringing his tirade to an end, “yourfriendship is slightly oppressive. Confine your attentions to your owngrievances. I will take care of mine. ”

“Ah! at last you acknowledge that you have one. Confess, now, that oldPink is a confounded nuisance!”

“Well, then, yes, she is! Does that satisfy you, scandal-monger? Now, for Heaven’s sake, shut up!”

I heard a brisk rustling of silk just at my left and a little back ofwhere I sat, and some one passed toward the front parlor. 

“By Jove!” ejaculated Fred, looking intently. “It’s old Pink herself, and I hope she got the benefit of what we said about her. I had no ideashe was sitting near us. ”

“What _we_ said about her!” I repeated. “I didn’t say anything abouther. ”

“Yes, you did. Ha, ha! You said she was a confounded nuisance!”

I shuddered. 

“Oh, well, brace up! Perhaps she didn’t hear that impious remark, ” saidFred, chuckling maliciously. “Or if she did, perhaps she’ll let you offeasy: only a few hours in the dark closet, or bread and water for a dayor two. ”

“Confound your mischief-making tongue!” I growled. “Here comes Miss VanDuzen to bid you quit spreading scandal about her guests. ”

Miss Van Duzen, on the contrary, only wished Mr. Marston to secure apartner for the Lanciers, which he promptly did. 

I sat brooding while the dancing went on, and was somewhat astonished, when it was over, to see George making for my corner. 

“How’s this?” he said. “Didn’t you go home with them?”

“With them? What! You don’t mean to say—”

“But I do, though! Bessie and mother made their adieux half an hourago, and I thought of course you had gone home with them, as nothing wassaid to me. This is a pretty go! Bessie must have been ill. ”

“Nonsense!” I exclaimed. “I should have known if that was the case. Where’s Miss Van?”

“I saw her. She thought it was odd, but supposed you had gone with them. What could have started them off in that fashion?”

“Well, well, don’t let’s stand here talking. Come on. ”

We did not stop for ceremony. Rushing up stairs, we donned our hats andcoats, and made our way out to the sidewalk without losing any time. Ihailed a carriage, and we drove rapidly out of town. It was about halfpast one o’clock when we arrived home. There were lights in our room andin Mrs. Pinkerton’s chamber. George followed me up stairs, and I tappedat the door of our room. 

“Is it you, Charlie?” said Bessie’s voice. 

“Yes, —and George. ”

She opened the door. It was evidently not long since their arrivalhome, for she had not begun to undress. 

“Explain, for our benefit, the new method of leaving a party, ” saidGeorge, “and why it was deemed necessary to give us a scare ininaugurating the same. ” He threw himself into an easy-chair. 

“Perhaps Mr. Travers is better able to tell you why mother should haveleft in the way she did, ” said Bessie, trying to make her speech soundsarcastic and cutting, but finding it a difficult job, with her breathcoming and going so quickly. 

“The deuce he is!” roared George. “Come, Charlie, what have you been upto? I must get it out of some of you. ”

“I am utterly unable to tell you why your mother should have left in theway she did, ” was all I could find to say. 

“Sapristi! This is getting mysterious and blood-curdling. The latest_feuilleton_ is nothing to it. Must I go to bed without knowing thecause of this escapade? Well, so be it. But let me tell you, youngwoman, that it wasn’t the thing to do. If you find your husband flirtingwith some siren, you must lead him off by the ear next time, but don’tsulk. Good night. ”

George walked out and shut the door after him. 

“See here, Bessie, ” I said kindly, “don’t cry, because I want to talksensibly with you. ”

She was sobbing now in good earnest. 

“I want you to tell me what your mother said to you about me. ”

She couldn’t talk just then, poor little woman! But when she had had hercry partly out, she told me. 

Her mother had not told her a word of what had passed between FredMarston and me! The outraged dignity of the widow would not admit of anexplicit account of the unspeakable insult she had received. She hadsimply given Bessie to understand that I had uttered some unpardonable, infamous slander, and had hustled the poor girl breathlessly into a caband away, before she fairly realized what had happened. 

I then told Bessie what our conversation had been, and left her to judgefor herself. I had not the heart to scold her for her part in the Frenchleave-taking, though it made me feel miserable to think how fewepisodes of such a sort might bring about endless misunderstandings andheart-aches. 

Of course more or less talk was caused by the mysterious manner of ourseveral departures from Miss Van’s party; and, thanks to Fred Marstonand his wife and similar rattle-pates, it became generally known thatthere was a skeleton in the Pinkerton closet. 

Miss Van soon heard how it came about, and nothing could have afforded amore complete proof of her refinement of character than the delicacy andtact with which she ignored the whole affair. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

ANOTHER CHARLIE IN THE FIELD. 

The winter, with its petty trials and contentions, had gone by; spring, with its bloom and fragrance, was far advanced; and already anothersummer, with its possible pleasures and recreations, was close upon us. Before it had fairly set in, however, an event of extraordinaryimportance was to occur in our little household. There had beenpremonitions of it for some time, which had a tendency to soften andsoothe all asperities, and cause a rather sober and subdued air topervade the little cottage, and now there were active preparations goingon. Of course, the widow was gradually assuming the management of thewhole affair, and it was a matter in which I could hardly venture todispute her right. Her experience and knowledge were certainly superiorto mine, and it was an affair in which these qualities were veryimportant. In fact, I seemed to be counted out altogether in thepreparations, as if it was something in the nature of a surprise partyin my honor. Mrs. Pinkerton had an air of mysterious and exclusiveknowledge concerning the grand event. Miss Van, who had come to haveconfidential relations with Bessie, of the most intimate kind, notwithstanding the mother’s objections, knew all about it, but had aqueer way of appearing unconscious of anything unusual. There seemed tobe a general consent to a shallow pretence that I was in utter andhopeless ignorance. It annoyed me a little, as I flattered myself that Iknew quite as much about what was coming as any of them, and I thoughtit silly to make believe I didn’t, and to ignore my interest in theaffair. Bessie had no secrets from me, of course, and our understandingwas complete, but one might have thought from appearances that we hadless concern in the matter than anybody else. 

As the auspicious time drew near, the goings-on increased in mystery andthe widow’s control grew more and more complete. Bessie showed me oneday a wardrobe that amused me immensely. It was quite astonishing inits extent and variety, but so liliputian in the dimensions of theseparate garments as to seem ridiculous to me. 

“Aren’t they cunning?” said the dear girl, holding up one after anotherof the various articles of raiment. Then she showed me a basket, marvellously constructed, with a mere skeleton of wicker-work andcoverings of pink silk and fine lace, and furnished with toiletappliances that seemed to belong to a fairy; and finally, removing a bigquilt that had excited my curiosity, she showed me the most startlingobject of all, —a cradle! I had seen such things before and felt noparticular thrill, but this had a strange effect upon me. I didn’t stopto inquire how these things had all been smuggled into the house withoutmy knowledge or consent, but kissed my little wife fondly, and went downstairs in a musing and pensive mood. 

The next day a decree of virtual exile was pronounced upon me. Mymother-in-law thought perhaps it would be better if I would occupyanother room in the house for a time, and let her share Bessie’schamber. The poor, dear girl might need her care at any time, and thewidow looked at me as much as to say, “You cannot be expected to knowanything about these matters, and have nothing to do but obey mydirections. ” I consented without a murmur or the least show ofresistance, for I admitted everything that could possibly be said, andlost all my spirit of independence in view of the impressive event thatwas coming. So I meekly took to the attic, and put up with the mostforlorn and desolate quarters. One or two mornings after, I was arousedat an inhuman hour, and ordered in the most imperative tones to call inDr. Lyman as quickly as possible, and haste after Mrs. Sweet. I hurriedinto my clothes in the utmost agitation, raced down the street in amanner that led a watchful policeman to stop me and inquire my business, rung up the doctor with the most unbecoming violence, and delivered myerrand up a speaking-tube, in answer to his muffled, “What’s wanted?”Then I rushed to the neighboring stable, and got up the sleepy hostlerwith as much vehemence in my manner as if he were in danger of beingburned to death, and induced him to harness a team, in what Iconsidered about twice the necessary length of time; drove three milesin the morning twilight for Mrs. Sweet, a motherly old maid in thenursing business, who had officiated at Bessie’s own _début_ upon thestage of life. When I had got back and returned the team to the stable, and was walking about the lower rooms in a restless manner, feeling asif I had suddenly become a hopeless outcast, the doctor came downstairs, and said, with amazing calmness, as though it was the mostcommonplace thing in the world, —

“Getting on nicely. Fine boy, sir! Mrs. Travers is quite comfortable. Will look in again in the course of the morning. ”

Then I was left alone again, an outcast and a wanderer in my own home. All the life was up stairs, including the wee bit of new life that hadcome to venture upon the perils and vicissitudes of the great world. Itwas two hours, but it seemed a month, before any one relieved mysolitude, and then it was at Bessie’s interposition—in fact, a commandthat she had to insist upon until her mother was afraid of her gettingexcited—that I was admitted to behold the mysteries above. 

Well, it is nobody’s business about the particulars of that chamber. Itwas too sacred for description; but there was the tiny, quivering, rednew-comer, already dressed in some of the dainty liliputian garments, and very much astonished and not altogether pleased at the effect. Bessie was proud and happy, the nurse, moving about silently, knew justwhat to do and how to do it, and the mother-in-law held supreme command. She was grand and severe, and evidently her wishes had been disregardedin respect to the sex of her grandchild. She feared the consequences ofanother Charlie launched into a world already too degenerate, and shehad hoped for an addition to the superior sex. But Bessie and I weremightily pleased that it was a boy. 

There was little to be said then, but in a few days the restraint beganto be relaxed, and discussions arose about what had become the mostimportant member of the household. Even the widow must be content withthe second place now, but I began to have misgivings lest my positionhad been permanently fixed as the third. In my secret mind, however, Idetermined to assert my rights as soon as Bessie was strong again, andreduce my mother-in-law to the position in which she belonged. I had putoff doing it too long, and advantage might be taken of the presentjuncture of affairs to strengthen her claim to supremacy, and it reallywouldn’t do to delay much longer. 

“I think he looks just like Charlie, ” said Bessie to Miss Van, the firsttime the latter called after the great event. 

“Well, I don’t know, ” was the reply. “It seems to me he has his papa’sdark eyes, but I can’t see any other resemblance. ”

“Oh, I do!” Bessie replied with spirit. “Why, it is just his foreheadand mouth, and his hair will be just the same beautiful brown when hegrows up. ”

The old lady was looking on reproachfully, and finally said, “Bessie, mydear, that child looks precisely like your own family. George at his agewas just such an infant; you couldn’t tell them apart. ”

George entered the room at that moment, and with his boisterous laughsaid, “You don’t mean to say that I was ever such a little, soft, ridiculous lump of humanity as that, do you?”

“As like as two peas, ” was the reply of his mother. 

For my part I kept out of the discussion, for I must confess I could seeno resemblance between the precious baby and any other mortal creature, except another baby of the same age. I thought they looked pretty muchall alike, and was not prepared to deny that it was the exactcounterpart of anybody at that particular stage of development. 

“I tell you what, Bess, ” said George, after the debate had fullysubsided, “you must name that little chap for me. ”

“Oh, no, ” replied the proud mother, “that is all settled; his name isCharlie. ”

Nothing had been said on the subject before, and I was a little startledat Bessie’s positive manner, for I thought even this matter would not befree from her mother’s dictation. The old lady seemed surprised andvexed. “George is a much better name, I think, ” she said very quietly, keeping down her vexation, “but I thought perhaps you might rememberyour dear father in this matter. His name, you know, was Benjamin. ”

“Yes, I know, ” said Bessie, very firmly, “but I think there is one witha still higher claim, and the child’s name is Charles. ”

“Good for you, little girl!” I thought, but I said nothing. Within me Ifelt a gleeful satisfaction at Bessie’s spirit, which showed that if itever came to a sharp contest with her mother, nothing could keep herfrom holding her own place by her husband’s side. All my misgivingsabout her possible estrangement by her mother’s influence vanished, andI saw that the new tie between us would be stronger than any earthlypower. 

“Well, ” said George abruptly, after a pause, “I wouldn’t be sodisobliging about a little thing like that. ”

“Ah! you wait until you can afford the opportunity of furnishing names, and see what you will do, ” I said jokingly. My joke was not generallyappreciated. The widow gave me a look a little short of savage. Bessiesuppressed a smile, in order to give me a reproof with her eyes, andMiss Van just then thought of something wholly irrelevant to say, as ifshe had not noticed my remark at all. On the whole, I was made to feelthat it was a disgraceful failure. 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE SHADOW ON OUR LIFE. 

Another summer with all its glory was upon us. It was nearly a yearsince we were married, and I was beginning to feel the dignity of afamily man. As Bessie regained her strength and bloom, she seemed tohave a matronly grace and self-command quite new to her. As I lookedback over our married life I saw no dark shadows, no coldness between ustwo, no misunderstandings that need occasion regret, but somehow itseemed as though that year had not been so bright and happy as it oughtto have been. We had lived under an irksome restraint that wasdepressing. I had felt it more than Bessie, for she had been accustomedto submit to her mother, and did not chafe, but she plainly saw that mylife had not that blithesomeness that would have been natural to me, andwhich she would have been glad to give it. 

It was the presence and influence of the mother-in-law that gave achill to my home life, and yet I could accuse the good woman of nospecial offence. She was no vulgar meddler, and never wished or intendedto mar our domestic felicity. She had managed to keep control of ourhousehold arrangements and we had passively acquiesced, but I felt thatit would be better if Bessie would take command and cater more to ourown desires. We could then have things our own way, and her positionwould be more becoming as the lady of the house. She began to regard itin the same light herself. Our social life, too, had been restrained andrestricted. I was very fond of having my friends about me, and wishedthem to come in for the evening or to dinner or to pass a Sundayafternoon in our little bower, as often as they could find it agreeable. Mrs. Pinkerton made no open objections, but I knew the company of myfriends was not congenial to her, and so was reluctant and backward inmy invitations to them. Besides, they were apt to be chilled anddisconcerted by the widow’s stately presence and rebuking ways, and weredisinclined to make themselves quite at home with us. Fred Marston andhis wife had been quite driven away. Mrs. Pinkerton had declined tospeak to the latter, and had told the former in plain terms that he usedlanguage of which no gentleman would be guilty. 

“By thunder!” roared the impulsive fellow, “I’ll have you to understandthat my wife and I are just as good as you, with your cursed airs ofsuperiority!” and he stormed out of doors, and incontinently returned totown. When I met him afterwards he condescendingly declared that hedidn’t blame me, except that I ought to be a man and not allow “oldPink” to insult my guests. I did not particularly regret hisdiscontinuing his visits, for, to tell the truth, I did not like hismanners, and he had drifted into a circle and among associates not atall to my taste, but it galled me to have any one whom I chose toentertain driven out of my house. 

I think nothing saved our charming friend, Miss Van Duzen, to whom wehad both become greatly attached, from being gracefully snubbed andinsulted, except the presence of her uncle, whenever she came out tovisit us in the evening. Mr. Desmond’s indisputable social rank, hisunimpeachable demeanor as a gentleman, and the dignity andimpressiveness of his presence, though it could by no means overawe mymother-in-law, made it impossible even for her to give him an affront. Besides, she seemed to have a real respect for that fine old gentleman. She would doubtless have thought better of him if he had been a regularattendant at St. Thomas’s Church, but she could not learn that he wasvery constant at any sanctuary. His views were decidedly what are calledliberal, and yet he was very considerate of the religious beliefs andpractices of others, and would cheerfully acknowledge the worthy aimsand good works of all the different Christian denominations. He seemedto understand why other persons should choose to join one or another, while he preferred to stand aloof, have his own ways of thinking, and dowhatever good he might in his own way. He had large business interestsand great wealth, and though he maintained his mansion in the city ingreat elegance, his family expenses were comparatively small, and he wasreputed to make it up fully by supporting more than one poor family ina quiet way. He was liberal in his conduct as well as his belief, andhis character and habits were above the reproach of the severest critic. Hence it was that the widow was forced to respect at least this one ofour visitors, and to treat his niece with common civility, thoughcordiality was out of the question. 

In fact, we owed to Mr. Desmond not a little for what relief we obtainedin our social life from the chilling restraints of the mother-in-law’spresence. He seemed to take a real pleasure in coming out to our littlesnuggery. His stately establishment in town could not be very home-like. His niece presided over it with great skill, and saw that every wish ortaste of his was gratified. She could always entertain him with hersprightly wit, and their social occasions were among the most elegant inthe city. He had his club to go to, which furnished every means thatingenuity and lavish resources could contrive to minister to thepleasures of man. And yet, there was wanting to his life that elementthat was the essence of home. He had longed for it when he was young, and had provided for it in his household; but the wife of his youth hadbeen called from him early, and he had vainly tried to fill all his lifewith business, with silent works of charity, with elegance and profusionin his house, with his clubs, his studies, and his travels; but stillthere was a void, and when he came to visit us, he seemed to findsomething akin to the home feeling in our little circle. So he came faroftener than was to be expected of one in his position. Clara was hisexcuse, but it was plain to see that he liked to come on his ownaccount, and he made himself very agreeable to us all; and when he came, we noticed the chilling influence of Mrs. Pinkerton much less than whenhe was not there. 

Sometimes we had a whist party. It was generally Bessie and I againstClara and George, but the widow had no objection to whist and wasoccasionally induced to take a hand, while Mr. Desmond was quite fond ofthe game and was a consummate player. When we young people made up theset, Mr. Desmond would converse with the widow, for though reticentwhere politeness did not call upon him to talk, he was incapable of therudeness of sitting silent with one other person, or in a small partyof intimate friends; and these conversations, showing his wideinformation on all manner of subjects, his sympathy with all charitablemovements, and his tolerant regard even for the widow’s pet ideas onchurch and society, evidently increased her respect for him. 

George must not be forgotten as a member of our circle, and never can beby those who were in it. His vivacity did much to relieve us from thedepression that brooded over us. He and Clara Van, as he had taken tocalling her as a sort of play upon caravan, —for was she not a wholeteam in herself? he would say, —he and Clara had many a lively contestof words, and were well matched in their powers of wit and repartee. 

Thus there were lights as well as shades, relief as well as depression, in our social life, but over it all was a shadow, the shadow of mymother-in-law. 

CHAPTER X. 

MY MOTHER-IN-LAW SUBDUED. 

As I was saying, I made up my mind that our happiness was marred byhabitual submission to mother-in-law, and I determined to shake off thenightmare, to assert myself, and to reduce that stately crown of graypuffs to a subordinate place. How was I to do it? There was nothing thatI could make the cause of direct complaint, and it was hard to get intoa downright conflict which would involve plain speaking. I consultedwith Bessie, and she agreed with me, and promised to assume thedirection of household affairs. She did not like to hurt her mother’sfeelings, but she admitted that it was best for her to be mistress. Icould but admire the matronly firmness and tact with which she playedher part. She gave her orders and told her mother what she proposed todo, and then proceeded to execute it as if there was no room forquestion. If opposition was made, she very quietly and firmly insisted. Her mother was astonished and had some warm words, in which she accusedme of trying to set her daughter against her. 

“Oh, no, ” said Bessie, “Charlie does not wish to set me against you orto have you made unhappy, but he thinks it better that I should be themistress here, and I quite agree with him, and propose henceforth to bethe mistress. ”

The widow was not offended, but hurt. She had too much good sense not tosee the propriety of our decision, and she surrendered and tried not toappear affected. 

This was the first victory. Another time, at the table, she hadexercised her prescriptive right of extinguishing me for some remark ofwhich she did not approve. I fired up and remarked, “I have the right tospeak my own opinion in my own house, Mrs. Pinkerton. ”

“Certainly you have a right to speak your own opinion in your ownhouse, ” she replied, with the least little sarcastic emphasis on “yourown house, ” which cut me to the quick. 

“But you don’t seem to think so, ” I said. “You have had a way ofsnubbing me and putting me down which I don’t propose to tolerate anylonger. I am master of my own conduct and of my own household, and Ihope, in future, that my liberty may not be interfered with. ”

The widow’s lip quivered, her great eyes moistened, and she left thetable, not because she was offended, but to hide her injured feelings. Ifelt mean, and would have apologized, but that I felt that my cause wasat stake. There was no after-explanation. My mother-in-law came and wentabout the house as usual, calm and polite. A silly woman would haverefused to speak to me for some weeks; but she was not a silly woman, and took pains to speak with the most studied politeness, and to avoidoffence. Here, too, she had evidently surrendered. 

This was victory number two. One more and the battle was won. It was aSunday in June. I had especially invited Mr. Desmond and his niece tocome out to dinner and to spend the afternoon, and had insisted to FredMarston that he should come with his wife. I wanted to vindicate myright to have what friends I pleased, and then I didn’t care overmuch ifI never saw him again. Mrs. Pinkerton had gone to church alone as usual. For some weeks Bessie had been unable to accompany her, and I preferredthe sanctuary at which the scholarly, but heterodox, Mr. Freemanpreached. When she returned, our guests had arrived. She put on hereye-glasses as she entered the gate, and looked about with evidentdisapproval, as we were scattered over the lawn. She did not believe inSunday visits. She was even stiff and distant to Mr. Desmond, andrefused to see the Marstons at all, though they were directly before hereyes. She walked straight into the house. 

“By Jove, ” said George to me in an undertone, “that isn’t right! I shallspeak to mother about cutting your guests in that way. ”

“Never mind, ” I replied, “don’t you say a word; I want an opportunity. ”

He saw it in a minute, and acquiesced with a queer smile. He fullysympathized with me, and had even encouraged me in the work ofemancipation. He had the utmost respect and affection for his mother, but he said it was not right for her to make my home unpleasant. 

That Sunday Mrs. Pinkerton joined us at the dinner-table. I knew shewould not be guilty of the incivility of staying away. 

“You remember my friends, Mr. And Mrs. Marston?” I said, by way ofintroduction, as she came in. 

“I remember them very well, ” was the reply; “too well, ” the toneimplied. I made a special effort to be talkative, and to keep otherstalking during the dinner. It was very hard work, and I met withindifferent success. It was not a pleasant dinner. Mr. Desmond aloneappeared not to mind the restraint, and he alone ventured to address thewidow. She was polite, but far from sociable. We contrived to pass theafternoon tolerably, but not at all in the spirit which I wished to haveprevail when I had friends to visit me, and all because of thatpresence. 

After they were gone, I took occasion to introduce the subject, for Ihad learned that Mrs. Pinkerton’s skill in expressing her disapproval inher manner was so great that she relied on it almost altogether, andrarely resorted to words for the purpose. 

“I am afraid you did not enjoy the company very much to-day, ” I said, aswe were sitting in the little parlor, overlooking an exquisite flowergarden. 

“No, sir, ” she answered, with the old emphasis on the “sir. ” “I do notapprove of company on the Sabbath, and I had hoped you would never againbring those Marstons into my presence at any time. ”

“Excuse me, madam; but I propose to be my own judge of whom I shallinvite to visit me, and of the time and occasion. I presume you admit myright to do so. ”

“Certainly, sir. I never disputed it, and had no intention of sayinganything if you had not introduced the subject. ”

“I introduced the subject for the very purpose; in fact, I brought outthe company for the very purpose of vindicating my right, and it wouldbe very gratifying to me if you would concede it cheerfully, and not, byyour manner and way of treating my friends, interfere with ithereafter. ”

I was almost astonished at my own courage and spirit, and still more soat Mrs. Pinkerton’s reply. It was dusky and I could not see her face, but her voice trembled and choked as she answered, —

“God knows I do not wish to interfere with your happiness. Bessie’shappiness has been my one thought for years, and now it is bound up withyours. I have my own notions, which I cannot easily discard, but I wouldnot do or say anything that would mar your enjoyment for the world. Ihave long felt that I did do so, and have made up my mind to make anysacrifice of pride and inclination to avoid it. ”

Here she actually broke down and sobbed, and I was very near joiningher. “Never mind, ” I said at length, quite softened; “I guess we shallget along pleasantly together in the future, now that we have anunderstanding. ”

“I hope so, ” she said, recovering her serenity, and we relapsed into apainful silence. 

This was the third and final victory, but I felt no elation over it. Mymother-in-law receded somewhat into the background, but it was so muchin sorrow, rather than anger, that I felt her new mood almost asdepressing as the old. I didn’t want her to feel injured or subdued, butevidently she couldn’t help it, and the mother-in-law, though conquered, was herself still, and that congeniality that would make our lifetogether wholly pleasant was impossible. Her existence was still ashadow, less chilling and more pensive, but a shadow in our home, and itseemed destined to stay there. 

CHAPTER XI. 

GEORGE’S NEW DEPARTURE. 

“George is growing very restless. I don’t know what ails him, ” Bessiesaid to me. 

“I can guess, ” I said, looking wise. 

“What is it?”

“Do you remember what an uneasy, good-for-nothing chap one CharlieTravers was, when he first began to call on a certain young woman withconspicuous regularity?”

“O Charlie, you don’t think he—”

“No, no! Now don’t explode too suddenly. I wouldn’t have him know that Isuspect anything for the world. We won’t name any names, but I keep myeyes about me, and I flatter myself I know the symptoms. ”

And with these mysterious words, I started for the bank, leaving toBessie a new and delightful subject for speculation and air-castlebuilding. 

George did not come home to supper that day, but that was nothingextraordinary. I was sitting out on the porch, smoking after the meal, and saw him coming up the street. 

“Where have you been?” I asked, as he joined me and took a seat. 

“None of your business. In town. ”

“Is Miss Van well?” I asked mischievously. 

“How should I know?”

“Come, George, you don’t play the part of Innocence over well. Supposeyou try Candor, and tell me where you have been. ”

“You mistake my identity. I’m not your baby. You will find the youthfulCharlie entertaining his mother up stairs. ”

A long-drawn-out, agonized wail, proceeding from the regions above, showed how Bessie was being entertained. 

“No opening yet?” I ventured to ask, changing the subject. 

“Not the slightest prospect. If some of these doctors could only beinveigled into taking some of their own prescriptions! But no; they aretoo wise. ”

“The bitterness of your tone would seem to indicate that you have notenjoyed your visit to the town. ”

“The town be hanged, and the country too! Let’s take a walk down thestreet. Give me a cigar, confound you! How hot it is!”

We strolled down the street. 

“This is a terrible vale of tears, this world, ” said I. “The world ishollow, and my doll is stuffed with sawdust, which accounts for hishowling. ”

George was silent. He pulled at his cigar ferociously, smoked it halfup, threw it away, and replaced it by a cigarette. 

“When a man throws away the best part of a Reina Victoria he is eitherflush or badly in love, ” said I to myself. I waited patiently for him tospeak, as I was perfectly willing to receive his confidence, but Ididn’t have the chance. He maintained a loud silence all the way, and wewalked back home as we had gone out. 

“Something’s up—something serious, ” I informed Bessie that night, “butGeorge does not confide in me worth a cent, which I think is a littleunbrotherly. ”

The following day George was absent from an early hour in the afternoontill long after all the household were fast asleep at night. I wasawakened at about midnight by a light tapping at the door of our room, and slipped out of bed without disturbing Bessie or the baby. 

“Come up to my den!” whispered George, as I opened the door. “Don’t wakethe others. ”

I quietly got into my clothes and crawled noiselessly up to George’s“den, ” devoured by curiosity. The moment I caught sight of his handsomeface I saw that it was all right with him, and that he had nothing butgood news to tell me. We sat down, hoisted our heels to a comfortablealtitude, and George told his story. I let him tell it himself here:—

“I was feeling terribly blue yesterday, when you saw me, ” he began, “asyou could see. In the afternoon I went into town, and, according to aprevious arrangement, hired a horse and buggy and called to take her outriding. ”

(Of course “her” was Miss Van. )

“We had agreed to take the old Linwood road, and follow it to thevillage, returning through the Maplewood Park and so getting back to thecity at about six. We left the town and passed through the suburbsrapidly, until we struck into the country, and there I let the horse gohis own pace, which was slow. So much the better. Miss Van Duzen wasnever more charming. We had the most agreeable bit of talk, and she drewme out till I amazed myself. She always does. It’s no use my tellingyou, Charlie, but I have been a fool in my love for her ever since thenight she came into this cottage like a stray beam of sunshine on acloudy day. My heart went out of my keeping the night she called herewith the old gentleman. I believe it was her freshness, her moralpurity, that acted on my morbid, half _blasé_ spirit, like a tonic, andbrought me on my feet. I’m talking random nonsense, you say, but whyshouldn’t I? I’m drunk with love. Don’t laugh at me. I’ll be all rightby daylight, except a headache. We got to talking about ourselves. Lovers always do, don’t they? You ought to know. There doesn’t seem tobe much else in the world worth talking about. I told her all aboutmyself, —my past, with its good and bad points, and my present hopes andpurposes. It all popped out as naturally as possible. I suppose it wouldsound like drivel if I were to repeat it. Finally she began to laugh. 

“‘It is dangerous to make a woman your confidant, ’ she said. ‘How do youknow that I can keep a secret better than any other of my sex?’

“‘I am not afraid on that score, ’ said I. ‘This is my confessional. Itis as sacred as any. Am I to receive absolution?’

“She could not fully promise that. She read me a neat little lecture. Itwas fascinating to thus receive correction at her hands. I pledgedmyself, when it was done, to follow the course laid out for me. Then Imade bold to exchange _rôles_. With some maidenly hesitation, which soonvanished, she in turn laid before me the inner history of her life. Ah, my boy, how little there was in it to gloss over! how much to humiliatethe best and noblest of us men! It was a revelation that made meprostrate myself before her. I was not worthy to hear it. ”

George paused, and drummed on the table with his fingers nervously. 

“I may as well tell you all, ” he resumed. “I had resolved to ask thatgirl to marry me when we started on our ride, but after what she said tome so simply and modestly, I positively could not do it. She expected meto speak, I know that, for she would not have told me what she did tellme, otherwise. ”

“So you didn’t speak? Oh, stupid, stupid boy!”

“I know it. But my tongue was tied. Perhaps it was all cowardice; Ican’t say. I never was afraid of any one before. I came home utterlyshattered and down-hearted. To-day I gravitated back to her, after asleepless night. She received me with the same friendly smile as usual, but there seemed to be a slight shadow over her spirits. That little, almost imperceptible change filled me with joy. I jumped to a conclusionthat intoxicated me, and made the plunge at once. 

“‘It is another case of the moth and the candle, ’ I said to her. 

“‘Thank you. So I am a candle? That is a fine figure of speech. ’

“‘Seriously speaking, I think we had not finished what we were talkingof yesterday. ’

“‘What were we talking of yesterday?’ she had the effrontery to ask. ‘Oh, yes, now I recollect. It was yourself. That subject, I fear, youwill never finish talking of. ’

“‘Now that’s a very mean speech, all things considered, ’ I whined. ‘Doyou want to strike a man, when he’s way down?’

“‘Don’t play Uriah Heep. I hate ’umble people. But if I have perchancepierced the thick epidermis of Parisian pride you have so long worn, I’mglad of it. ’

“She likes to abuse me, and I enjoy it quite as well as she. Shecontinued to scold me and mock me for some time, to disguise her actualmood. I saw through it, and let her have her way for a while. The meekermy replies, the greater the exaggerated harshness of her criticisms. Atlast I no longer attempted to reply at all. Leaning back in a corner ofthe sofa, I watched the play of her animated features and the light ofher dark brown eyes, and felt that she was the one woman in theuniverse that suited me, the one woman I could respect and lovepassionately at the same time. 

“‘You say truly I am a coward. I am aware of that. I admit that I am allthat is detestable. If such a wretch as you describe were to love awoman, what unhappiness for him! There could be no hope for him. Hewould know his own irredeemable unworthiness, and so could only slinkaway in shame. ’

“‘You are quite right, ’ she cried, laughing merrily. ‘That would be theonly course for him to pursue. ’

“‘By the way, ’ I said, ‘that reminds me that my train goes out in twentyminutes. ’

“I rose, and she also stood up to accompany me to the door. I held outmy hand. It was an unusual demonstration, and perhaps she thought itmeant good-by in earnest. At least, as she put her hand in mine, Idetected a look I had never before seen in the depths of those fineeyes. With a sudden, unpremeditated, and irresistible movement, I drewher close to me, folded my arms about her, and kissed her passionately. 

“‘Clara!’ I whispered, ‘I love you! I love you! Don’t tell me to go. ’

“She gently drew herself out of my reluctant arms, and though her eyeswere misty now, I saw in them that I was to stay. 

“That’s all the story I have to tell you, Charlie. I am too happyto-night to sleep, so I couldn’t let you sleep. I stayed and spent theevening. Mr. Desmond, bless his dear old heart! cried over Clara, andgave her an old-fashioned blessing. I walked home on air. Do I look verybadly corned?”

I gave him a rousing hand-shake, and wiped away a stray bit of moisturefrom my cheek. 

“May I tell Bessie?” were my first words when I found my tongue. 

“Why not? There will be no long engagement in this case. The knot shallbe tied as soon as possible. ”

The announcement I made to my little wife the following morning was notentirely unexpected, yet it filled her with delight. Miss Van was thewoman of all others that Bessie wished to have George marry. Thearrangement was, therefore, completely to her satisfaction, and shebeamed upon the happy George with true sisterly affection. 

What effect would the news have upon Mrs. Pinkerton? I asked myself. Ihad not long to wait for an answer, for it was at the breakfast-tablethat George fired the shot. 

“Mother, ” said the bold youth, “I’m going to be married. ”

His mother abruptly stopped stirring her coffee, and her spine visiblystiffened, but she said nothing. 

“The event will occur without delay. Of course it is useless to informyou who is the—”

“Quite useless, ” Mrs. Pinkerton broke in; “my wishes in the matter arenot of the slightest consequence to you. ”

“On the contrary. Now, look here; don’t be so infernally quick toanticipate my wilfulness. I want to conform to your wishes if I can. _Que faire?_”

“We will talk about it after breakfast. ”

Accordingly, there was a serious passage-at-arms in the library afterbreakfast. George left the house a conqueror, but the conquered had nosort of intention of abandoning the campaign after a Bull Run defeat. Infact, war had only just been declared. It must not be supposed that itwas a war the movements of which could be followed by the acutestmilitary observer; the batteries were all masked, but the gunpowder wasthere. I felt confident that George would carry everything before him, and he did. He brought Miss Van over to spend the evening, and we hadthe pleasantest time imaginable. He would not allow his mother to say aword against Miss Van, and made a fair show of proving that the latterhad, not only better blood, but also better breeding and a truer senseof propriety than my mother-in-law, that is, “when it came to thescratch, ” as George said. “But who would give a snap for a young womanwho can’t throw aside the shackles of conventionality once in a while, and be herself?”

Miss Van was her own jolliest, sweetest self at this time. Her beautyhad never been so noticeable: joy is an excellent cosmetic, and lovepaints far better than rouge or powder. 

As soon as Mrs. Pinkerton had recovered from her defeat, and when theengagement had become an acknowledged fact which all the world mightknow, the wedding began to loom up before us, and I could not helpwondering if St. Thomas’s Church was to be the scene of as fashionableand grand a display as on the occasion when Bessie and myself were madeone. 

I felt reasonably certain that Mrs. Pinkerton would make an effort tothat end, and I was curious to see how George would look on it. 

Bessie, I think, would have been glad to see the marriage take placewith as much pomp and show as possible. She was intensely interested inwhat Clara should wear, and every visit from that young woman was theoccasion for a vast deal of confidential and no doubt highly important_tête-à-tête_ consultation. 

Mother-in-law sailed into the library one evening with unusual celerityof movement. 

“George, dear, ” she said, “this cannot be true! You would not permitsuch an eccentric, uncivilized proceeding. Surely you will not offendour friends by—”

“Avast there! Our friends be hanged!” cried George wickedly. “Yes, it’strue, too true. The ceremony will be private, and no cards. You cancome, though! Next Wednesday, at two o’clock, sharp!”

This was cruel. I could see his mother almost stagger under the blow. She attempted to remonstrate, but it was too late. George assured herthat “it was all fixed, ” and that Clara had agreed with him regardingthe details. 

“Honest old John Stephens will tie the knot, ” said he, “and it will bejust as tight as if Dr. McCanon manipulated the holy bonds. I trust weshall have the pleasure of your company, mother. Consider yourselfinvited. A few of the choicest spirits will be on hand. Clara will wearthe most exquisite gray travelling suit you ever laid eyes on. ”

The widow was flanked, outgeneralled, routed along the whole line. Shebrought forward all her reserve forces of good-breeding, and thusescaped a disastrous panic by retiring in good order. 

The ceremony occurred, as George had announced, the followingWednesday. The near relatives and best friends of the young couple werepresent, and it was a quiet and thoroughly enjoyable affair for all whoparticipated. An hour after they had been pronounced man and wife, George and his bride rode away to take the train for the mountains. 

 “And on her lover’s arm she leant, And round her waist she felt it fold, And far across the hills they went In that new world which is the old. ”

CHAPTER XII. 

BABY TALK, OLD DIVES, AND OTHER THINGS. 

The cottage seemed dull enough after the departure of George with hisbride. Bessie was so absorbed by the care of our little one that she hadvery little time to think of anything else, and in fact the new-comer, for the time being, monopolized the attention of his grandmother as wellas of his mother. I was therefore left to my own resources. 

“Baby is not very well, Charlie, ” Bessie informed me, one morning, withan anxious air. “Do you think it would do to wrap him up well and takehim for a little ride this afternoon?”

“Yes, that’s a good idea. If I can get that black horse at the liverystable, I’ll bring him around this afternoon. But I don’t see why youshould wrap him up. It’s hot as blazes. ”

“You don’t know anything about babies, Charlie. Go along. Get a nice, easy carriage, and we’ll take mother with us. I long for a ride. ”

I departed, and secured the desired “team. ”

Towards two o’clock I drove up to the cottage, and the entire familybundled into the vehicle, and we were off. I chose a pleasant, shadyroad, and drove slowly, while Bessie and her mother filled the air withbaby talk. 

As we were climbing the hill near Linwood, I saw, a short distance aheadof us, the form of an elderly gentleman toiling up the ascent in thesun. He seemed fatigued, and stopped as we drew near him, to wipe thebeads of perspiration from his brow. 

“Why, it’s Mr. Desmond!” exclaimed Bessie. 

Sure enough! As he turned toward us I recognized the white vest, theexpansive shirt-front, and the resplendent watch-chain that could belongto no other than “old Dives” himself. 

“How d’ye do?” I cried, halting our fiery steed. 

“Ah! Mr. Travers, Mrs. Pinkerton, how do you do? Delighted to meet you. It’s very warm. ”

“How came you so far out in the country afoot?” I asked. 

“I had some business at Melton, and lost the 2:30 train back to town, so I started to walk to Linwood with the purpose of taking a train onthe other road. They told me it was only a mile and a half, but—. ” Andhe sighed significantly. 

“How fortunate that we met you, ” said Mrs. Pinkerton quickly, taking thewords out of my mouth. “Get in and ride to Linwood with us. We have avacant seat, you see. ”

I seconded her invitation, and without much hesitation he accepted, andtook a seat by my side. The conversation turned naturally upon the“young couple” (Bessie and I were no longer referred to in that way), and Mr. Desmond extolled his niece unreservedly. Mother-in-law wasevidently somewhat impressed, but I think she made some mentalreservations. 

“Will you smoke, Mr. Desmond?” I asked, offering him a cigar. 

“No, I thank you. ”

“Oh, I had forgotten you did not approve of the habit. Excuse me. ”

Mrs. Pinkerton explained to Mr. Desmond, apologetically, that I was anirresponsible victim of the nicotine poison. I laughed, but Mr. Desmondreceived the explanation solemnly, and expressed his abhorrence for “theweed. ”

The old gentleman professed great admiration for baby, and said that helooked exactly like his mother; in fact, the resemblance was almoststartling. 

By the time we had got to Linwood, our passenger had talked himself intoa state of good-humor, and we left him at the railroad station, bowingand smiling with true old-school _aplomb_. 

Bessie thought the ride did Charlie, junior, good, and so it became aregular thing, on pleasant afternoons, to take him out for a littleairing. Mrs. Pinkerton overcame her scruples, and usually accompaniedus. A sample of the sweet converse held with my son and heir on the backseat will suffice:—

“Sodywazzaleetlecatchykums! ‘Esoodavaboobangy! Mamma’s cunnin’kitten-baby!”

One day, just before noon, when I had been making a mental calculationas to how I should be able to cover the livery-stable bill, a fineequipage stopped in front of the bank, and through the window I saw thestately driver hand a note to our errand-boy. In a moment Tommy appearedin the room and handed me the billet, which ran thus:—

 MY DEAR MR. TRAVERS, —I trust you will not take it amiss if I send my coachman out your way once in a while to exercise the ponies. Since Clara’s taking-off, they have stood still too much, and knowing that you go to ride occasionally with your family, I take the liberty of putting them at your disposal for the present, with instructions to John, who is a careful and trustworthy driver, to place himself at your service whenever you are so disposed. The obligation will be entirely on my part, if you will kindly take a turn behind the ponies whenever you choose. My regards to your wife and Mrs. Pinkerton. 

 Believe me yours sincerely, T. G. DESMOND. 

I could find no objection to accepting this kindly offer, so delicatelymade, but I did not dare to do so before consulting Bessie and hermother, so I stepped into the carriage and had John drive me to thecottage. There was a consultation, and after I had overcome some feeblescruples on Mrs. Pinkerton’s part, which I am afraid were hypocritical, we decided to take advantage of Mr. Desmond’s generosity. I sent a noteof thanks back by John, and thenceforth we took our rides behind “oldDives’s” black ponies. Occasionally the old gentleman himself came outin the carriage, and proved himself as trustworthy and careful a driveras John, handling the “ribbons” with the air of an accomplished whip. The rides were very pleasant, those beautiful summer days, and thechange from a hired “team” to the sumptuous establishment of Mr. Desmondwas extremely grateful. 

Mr. Desmond was doubtless very lonely without his niece. She had beenthe light of his home, and her absence was probably felt by the oldgentleman with more keenness than he had anticipated at the outset. Hislarge and beautifully furnished mansion needed the presence of just sucha person of vivacious and cheery character as Clara, to prevent it frombecoming cheerless in its grandeur. He intimated as much, and appearedunusually restless and low-spirited for him. He sought to make up forthe absence of the sunshine and joyousness that “Miss Van” had takenaway with her, by applying himself with especial diligence to business;but he really had not much business to engross his attention, beyondcollecting his interest and looking out for his agents, and it failed tofill the void. He betook himself to his club, and killed timeassiduously, talking with the men-about-town he found there, playingwhist, and running through the magazines and reviews in search of witand wisdom wherewith to divert himself. The dull season had set in;there was little doing, in affairs, commerce, politics, or literature;and direct efforts at killing time always result in making time go moreheavily than ever. Mr. Desmond’s attempt was like a curious _pas seul_, executed by a nimble actor in a certain extravaganza, the peculiarity ofwhich is that at every forward step the dancer slides farther andfarther backward, until finally an unseen power appears to drag him backinto the flies. 

It was during one of our afternoon drives, when Mr. Desmond usurped theoffice of his coachman, that he confided to us a plan which he haddevised to cure his _ennui_. 

“I have made up my mind, ” he said, “to go abroad for a good long tour. It will be the best move I could possibly make. ”

“I don’t doubt it, ” I said. “How soon do you propose to go?” And Bessiesighed, “O dear, how delightful!”

“My plans are not matured, ” Mr. Desmond continued, “but I think I shallsail early next month. My favorite steamer leaves on the 6th. ”

“I hope you will enjoy a pleasant voyage, and a delightful trip on theother side, ” said Mrs. Pinkerton politely. 

Mr. Desmond returned thanks. Nothing more was said that day concerninghis project. When he left us at the cottage, he remarked, —

“By the way, Mr. Travers, I wish you would call at my office to-morrowmorning at or about eleven o’clock, if you can make it convenient to doso. ”

“I will do so, ” I replied, wondering what he could want of me. 

At the appointed hour the next day I was on hand at his office. Hemotioned to me to be seated and then said, —

“Yesterday morning I met John K. Blunt, of Blunt Brothers & Company, atmy club, and he told me that their cashier had defaulted. An account ofthe affair is in this morning’s papers. They want a new cashier. I havementioned your name, and if you will go around to their office with me, we will talk with Blunt. ”

“Mr. Desmond—” I began, but he stopped me. 

“Don’t let’s have any talk but business, ” he said. “The figures will besatisfactory, I am confident. ”

Satisfactory! They were munificent! Blunt liked me, and only a few shortand sharp sentences from such a man as Desmond finished the business. Isaw a future of opulence before me. My head was almost turned. I triedto thank Mr. Desmond, but he would not listen to my earnest expressionsof gratitude. 

“I have engaged passage for the 6th, ” he told me when we were parting;“I will try to call at your cottage before I get off. I am busy settlingup some details now. Good day. ”

I hastened home with my good news. Bessie’s eyes glistened when sheheard it, and even my mother-in-law showed a faint sign of pleasure atmy good luck. 

The following Saturday evening Mr. Desmond came out to see us. 

“Don’t consider this my farewell appearance, ” he said. “I merely wishedto tell you that my friends have inveigled me into giving an informalparty Tuesday evening, at which I shall expect you all to appear. ”

He talked glibly, for him, and gave us an outline sketch of his proposedtour. I thought he seemed strangely restless and nervous, and I pitiedhim. 

His “informal party” was really a noteworthy affair, and the wealth andrespectability of the city were well represented. Bessie could not go, on account of the baby, so I acted as escort to Mrs. Pinkerton, who madeherself amazingly agreeable. There were not many young people present, and the affair was quiet and genteel in the extreme. Bank presidents, capitalists, professional men, and “solid” men, with their wives, attired in black silks, formed the majority of the guests. They were Mr. Desmond’s personal friends. My mother-in-law was in congenial company, and I believe she enjoyed the evening remarkably. Most of theconversation turned, very naturally, upon European travel. Americans whoare possessed of wealth always have done “the grand tour, ” and theyinvariably speak of “Europe” in a general way, as if it were all onecountry. 

“When I returned from my first tour abroad, a friend said to me that he‘supposed it was a fine country over there, ’” said Mr. Desmond to me, laughing. 

Some one asked him where he had decided to go. 

“I shall land at Havre, and go straight to Paris, ” he answered. “Iflatter myself I am a good American, and as I have been comparativelydead since my niece left me, I am entitled to a place in thatterrestrial paradise. ”

I thought I had never seen Mrs. Pinkerton appear to so good advantage asshe did on this occasion. Her natural good manners and her intelligencemade her attractive in such a company, and she was the centre of abright group of middle-aged Brahmins throughout the entire evening. Mr. Desmond appeared grateful for the assistance she rendered in making hisparty pass off pleasantly, and as for me, I began to feel that I hadnever quite appreciated her best qualities. She was a woman that onecould not wholly know in a year, perhaps not in a lifetime. “Who knows?”I thought; “perhaps I have wronged my mother-in-law. ”

CHAPTER XIII. 

A SURPRISE. 

We were feeling a little solemn at the cottage. George, with his livelyways, and Clara, with her sparkling vivacity, were away on their weddingtour, and our good friend, Mr. Desmond, to whom we had taken a greatliking, was about to sail for an indefinite absence in foreign lands. Though the mother-in-law’s presence was less oppressive than formerly, there was now a pensiveness, an air of departed glory about it, that wasnot cheerful. There was danger of settling down to a humdrum sort oflife, free from strife, perhaps, but at the same time devoid of thatbuoyancy which should make the home of a young couple joyous. 

I was a little doubtful of making a vacation in the country this summer. To be sure, when George went away, it was agreed that after he had gonethe round of the White Mountains, the attractions of Canada, NiagaraFalls, and Saratoga, he would return for a quiet stay of a few weeks, atthe close of the season, to the little resort which we had visited ayear ago, and there, if Bessie’s health would permit, and I couldarrange for a sufficient absence from business, we would join them. ButI almost dreaded taking Mrs. Pinkerton with us, and doubted whether shewould go; at the same time, I did not like to propose leaving her behindto take care of the cottage. I was in perplexity, and, notwithstandingmy splendid new prospects in business, was not feeling cheerful. 

Coming home from a restless round of the city on the Fourth of July, where I had found the great national holiday a bore, I noticed Mr. Desmond’s team coming up to the garden gate with a brisk turn. That fineold gentleman—I always feel like calling him old on account of his graywhiskers, though he was little more than fifty—came down the walk andwith stately politeness assisted Bessie and the baby out of thecarriage. I looked to see Mrs. Pinkerton follow, but she was not there, and clearly Mr. Desmond had not been to ride. It struck me as a littlequeer, not to say amusing, that they had been having a quiet_tête-à-tête_ together in the cottage while John gave Bessie and thebaby their airing. But then, it was not so strange either, for was henot going to leave us in two days? It was no uncommon thing for Mrs. Pinkerton to stay within while Bessie was out, and he had probablydropped in late in the afternoon, expecting to find us all at home, asit was a holiday. I bade him good by in case I did not see him again, ashe got into the carriage to ride back to the city. 

“Oh, I shall see you to-morrow, ” he said in a brisk tone which had notbeen habitual with him of late. 

That evening my mother-in-law was uncommonly gracious, a littleabsent-minded, and more pleasant in spirit than I had ever known her. She seemed to be filled with an inward satisfaction that I could notmake out at all. Bessie and I both remarked it, but could not surmiseany cause for the apparent change that had come over the spirit of herdream. 

Next morning, on reaching town, I found a note asking me to step overto Mr. Desmond’s office when I could find time. I went at my leisure, wondering what was up. As I entered, he seemed remarkably cordial andhappy. 

“I find that Blunt, ” he said in a business-like way, “would like to haveyou take hold at once, if possible. Their affairs are in some confusionand need an experienced hand to straighten them out. It will benecessary for you to give a bond, which I have here all prepared, withsatisfactory sureties, and you need only give us your signature, which Iwill have properly witnessed on the spot. ”

“Oh, is that it?” I thought. Strange I didn’t think of its havingsomething to do with my new position. I knew I could get away from myold place at a week’s notice, as I had already made known my intentionto leave, and there were several applicants for the position. The bondwas executed without hesitation. 

“You will not lose your vacation, ” Mr. Desmond said, “though your salarywill begin at once. As soon as you can get matters in order, which maytake a month or more, you are to be allowed a few weeks’ absence torecuperate and get fully prepared for your new responsibilities. ”

Thanking him for his kindness, I was about to go, when he said, “Sitdown, Mr. Travers. I have something else to say to you. ”

“What’s coming now?” I wondered, as I took my seat again. Mr. Desmondseemed a little at a loss how to begin his new communication, and camenearer appearing embarrassed than I should have thought possible forhim. 

“The fact is, ” he said at last, “I have changed my mind about goingabroad. ”

I have no doubt I looked very much surprised and puzzled, and smiling atthe expression of my face, he went on, —

“Your mother-in-law, Mrs. Pinkerton, is a very worthy woman; in fact, aremarkably worthy woman. ”

I couldn’t deny that; but why should he choose such a time and place tocompliment her?

“Do you know, ” he added, with a still nearer approach to embarrassmentin his manner, and something like a blush on his usually calm face, “Ihave asked her to become Mrs. Desmond. ”

“The devil you have!” was my thought as astonishment fairly overcameme. I didn’t say it, though, but it was my turn to be embarrassed, and Ihardly knew what to say. 

Having got it out, Mr. Desmond fairly recovered his equanimity. “Yes, ”he said, “I put the idea away from me for a long time, but it wouldpersist in growing upon me, and I finally concluded that perhaps itmight contribute to the happiness of _all_ parties, so I have taken theplunge. I hope you approve of it, ” he added, with a queer twinkle in hiseye. 

“With all my heart, sir, ” I said earnestly; “and I am sure it will be aspleasing as it is surprising to us all. ”

Throughout that afternoon I was restless, and eager to get home to tellBessie the wonderful news. It was the longest afternoon I ever saw, butat length it passed and I hurried home. As Bessie met me at the door Isaid eagerly, “I’ve got a surprise for you, deary. ”

Now I noticed for the first time that she was all smiles and full ofsomething that she was eager to surprise me with. Simultaneously eachrecognized that the other had the secret already. Of course; what afool I was! Her mother naturally enough would tell her while Mr. Desmondbroke the matter to me. 

“Isn’t it jolly?” I said. 

“Why, Charlie, are you then so anxious to get rid of poor, dear mamma?”she said, half reproachfully and half teasingly. 

“Oh, no, of course not, but it is really nice for all of us, isn’t itnow? She won’t be far off, you know; we shall have our little home allto ourselves, and Mr. Desmond will be a sort of guardian for us. And asI said before, I think it is jolly. ”

“Well, I must confess I do not altogether like the idea of mammamarrying again, and I shall miss her very much, after all. ”

I couldn’t help laughing at the little woman’s demure countenance, asshe said this. There was a little trace of jealousy in her gentleheart—jealousy so natural to women—at the idea of another’s taking hermother off, just as that good woman had been jealous at her taking off. I accused her of it, and she repudiated the idea. 

But everybody must admit that things had fallen out just right for allparties, and the shadow was to be taken from our household by a newburst of sunlight, without any heart-burning for anybody, and withnothing but satisfaction for all. It was arranged that the new marriageshould presently occur, and the mature couple take a little trip, andsurprise George and Clara by being at the Fairview Hotel before them. Their first knowledge of the turn of affairs was to come when theyarrived there late in August, and found their new relations inpossession. Bessie and I were to join the party for a brief stay, and somy perplexity was happily ended. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

A HAPPY PROSPECT. 

The landscape is lovely in these latter days of August. The mountainsare grand and solemn in their everlasting silence. We are together atthe Fairview, and everybody feels free and happy. There is no restraint, and our future prospects are delightful. Before George left home in Junehe had made application for a vacant chair in the Medical College andpresented his credentials and testimonials. He expected nothing from it, he said, but would leave me to look out and see what decision was made. I had brought with me the news of his appointment. I had also securedfor him the refusal of an elegant house which had been suddenly vacatedand offered for sale on account of the failure in business of its owner. It was very near our cottage, had lovely surroundings, was beautifullyfurnished, and was to be sold with all its contents. It has now beendecided between George and Mr. Desmond that it shall be purchased atonce, and shall become the legal possession of Clara, being paid for outof her ample fortune, now under her own control, but not yet taken fromher uncle’s keeping. 

Mr. And Mrs. Desmond will take possession of the city mansion, and Ihave no doubt that its state and elegance will be fully kept up. I seebefore me happy times for us all, and at last I think we understand andappreciate each other. Our relations being properly and happilyadjusted, there will be no more “unpleasantness. ” And I must acknowledgethat, in spite of past feelings and the little clouds that have fleckedour sky, sometimes appearing dark and portentous, these happy resultsare due in no small measure to MY MOTHER-IN-LAW. 

THE END. 

Transcriber’s Note: The table below lists all corrections applied tothe original text. 

p. 039: a hand encased in a mit -> mittp. 128: [added quotes] better than any other of my sex?’p. 131: [added quotes] slink away in shame. ’p. 133: [added quotes] _Que faire?_”p. 145: And Besssie sighed -> Bessie