Jaqueline was very busy paying visits and having a good time. They had been up to the Pineries twice without her. Truth to tell, she was a little afraid of her own counsel, and hoping Marian would have spirit enough to assert herself. One day she was very much surprised by the advent of Mr. Ralston.
"Yes, honey; he jes' done ask to see you, not yer mar ner ennyone! And he looks jes laik a lover comin' to de house," announced Julia, one of the waiting-maids.
Jaqueline went down with a deeper flush on her cheek and a beating heart. There was a courteous greeting, and then a touch of embarrassment. Ralston was first to surmount it.
"Miss Mason," he began abruptly, "when have you seen Miss Floyd?"
"Not since she was here. I have been away from home. Papa and part of the family were up last week."
"Will you read this note?"
It was from Marian—very brief and cold. She had considered the matter, and felt that it would be impossible to keep up the acquaintance. It would be useless either to come or to write.
"If Miss Floyd was merely amusing herself, of course that is the end of it. Do you know whether she has a lover? There was some mystery about her I could not quite fathom. I may have been misled, but I thought she cared for me. Indeed," he added, flushing a little and softening his tone, "it seemed a case of mutual attraction at first sight. We became such friends while she was at her sister's."
Jaqueline considered a moment. Then she said: "I had better tell you the whole story. And if you knew grandpapa—he is as arbitrary as a king. He looks like one too."
She recapitulated the advances of Mr. Greaves, and admitted that Marian was yielding and stood in awe of her father. "But I am quite certain she loves you," declared the incautious girl.
"I felt rather certain," with a satisfied half-smile. "And I can understand that Mr. Greaves is a rival not to be despised. I have no broad acres nor ancestral home, but youth and ambition and a good profession. Surely when Mr. Floyd comes to understand, he cannot force his daughter's inclinations! I will devote my whole life to her, my best energies. I am sure I shall succeed."
"Marian never could resist him if she saw him now," Jaqueline thought, he looked so proud and so in earnest. But Grandpapa Floyd!
"You give me hope. You are young to advise anyone in a love affair," and he laughed in a genial, amused fashion. "I came here because you knew about those two days, and I thought you might be more in Miss Floyd's confidence than her sister, though I can count on Mrs. Jettson's influence and approval, I am certain. Do you think Miss Floyd may have told her father?"
"Oh, no; I am sure she has not. Only I do think some influence has been brought to bear upon her, and she has felt afraid—"
Jaqueline looked very pretty and spirited, standing up straight and slim, her dark eyes aglow with earnestness and eager interest. She would not be afraid to stand up for her lover.
"Shall I go or write?"
"Oh, I am afraid to advise!" She turned pale then.
"And it is unmanly to ask it."
"Perhaps papa could tell better."
"I wonder if I might see him?"
"Oh, yes. Will you amuse yourself while I find him? Louis is away, and the children are having a picnic down in the grove."
Mr. Mason was ensconced in a willow easy-chair, with a high back and a cushion, while his wife was reading aloud from the pages of Oliver Goldsmith. He glanced up, and Jaqueline suddenly realized the gravity of the matter in hand.
"Mr. Ralston is here, and would like to see you, papa!" she exclaimed persuasively.
"Ah—can't you bring him out here?"
"It is quite important and—" hesitatingly.
"Yes, I'll come." He reached for his coat, and sighed at the added warmth.
Jaqueline slipped her hand through his arm.
"It's about—Marian."
"I was afraid there would be trouble. Jack, was their meeting here pure accident? Tell me the truth. Or did you have mischief in your mind?"
"It wasn'tquitethat. But Marian did not know. And I did not really promise Mr. Ralston."
"I wish you had kept out of it, my girl."
"But Mariandoeslove him. And surely grandpapa will never make her marry that stupid old Mr. Greaves!"
"Take care. I am getting old."
"But you will never be stupid." She reached up and kissed him.
"You know grandfather is very fond of having his own way. Mr. Greaves isn't so bad, when all is said."
"You wouldn't make me marry him?"
"I am afraid I would have a tough job," and he laughed.
"Now I shall leave you to your own wisdom."
The squire nodded.
The young lover presented his case in a very straightforward, honorable fashion. Mr. Mason's heart went out to him, but he understood his stepfather's obstinacy and his dislike to be meddled with or thwarted. His mother was in favor of the marriage also, which would make it harder for Marian.
"If you write to Mr. Floyd you will receive a polite but decided dismissal. If you see him I am afraid the result will be the same, and less pleasant to remember."
"Do you suppose I am coward enough to relinquish the woman I love in such an emergency as this? If I heard from her own lips that she did not care for me, that would influence my conduct. But I am certain she does care, and I want her to know that I am ready to take any step for her happiness. I am too much of a soldier to give up without an effort, even if I have seen only fair-weatherservice. What would you have done in your youth?"
"Made a good fight," smiling at the other's eagerness.
"Then I shall go. To be merely dismissed would be mortifying. And any woman would despise such a tame lover! Thank you for your cordial reception. In any event I shall count on your friendship."
He shook Mr. Mason's hand warmly.
"But you will stay and have some supper with us? And why not accept our hospitality for the night?"
"Thank you. I have some important matters on hand to-morrow morning. I am truly sorry not to have a delightful evening with you, and I am indebted to you for this kindly attention on a troublesome subject. I sincerely trust that some day I shall stand in a nearer relation. You can wish me success—I hope?"
The truth and honor in the lines of the face appealed to the elder man. He had found so many charms in his new wife, so much sweetness in the daily love, that he could be generous in his wishes.
"Yes, I hope you will succeed," and the squire said it from the depth of his heart, although his latent judgment was not so hopeful.
"He will go to the Pineries," he said as he rejoined his wife and daughter. "It will not do any good, and I am afraid we are in for a family fracas. Marian may refuse to marry Mr. Greaves, but her father will not accept Ralston. I am sorry. They would make a nice, happy young couple."
"But she might wait a year or two."
"It isn't easy waiting when there is no real hope, and the influence is all on the other side. You see, Grandfather Floyd has trained his children to habits of obedience. He isn't turned about with every wind of doctrine, as I am. Not a child stands in awe of me. And when Ipick out my future son-in-law, Miss Jaqueline, I expect you will turn up your pretty nose and utterly refuse him."
"I shall if he has four children belonging to another woman."
Her father raised his brows. The young girl turned scarlet and clasped her arms about Mrs. Mason's neck.
"Mother dear, forgive that awkward speech. We are all glad to have you, as you must be aware by this time, and since you are such a comfort and pleasure to papa it would be the height of jealous unamiability not to love you. But ifyouhad left four children you wouldn't want me for their stepmother, would you, now? Confess the truth."
She looked very arch and pretty, and her voice had a persuasive cadence that amused her father.
"They might fare worse, my dear girl," returned Mrs. Mason. "I should trust Annis anywhere with you. And Marian would make a charming mother, but I do think she is entitled to some young, sweet life of her own. I cannot help thinking how one extreme begets another. Your grandparents are very authoritative—"
"Domineering is better," interposed the squire laughingly. "You are great for picking out the softer words, Patty. Mr. Floyd is of the old school, and his beliefs intensify with age. His children were put in the world to honor and obey him. Brandon married an heiress with an estate and no end of slaves. Jane slipped through with the man of her choice, but you can notice that he is rather captious about Arthur, who is doing very well and will be a rich man if he doesn't blunder in the Washington bogs. I think myself Marian and Dolly are kept in very narrow bounds. Dolly has a way of slipping out, but Marian is rather timid."
"The system has made her so, but I should think shewould have inherited a good deal of spirit and force of character."
"I think I shall turn over a new leaf myself," declared the squire, with a twinkle of humor in his eye. "In the future, Miss Jaqueline, I wish you to consult me about your goings-out and comings-in. You are to say 'Sir' to me in the most respectful fashion. Perhaps your mother would like you to address her as 'Madam.' You are to take no hand in the affairs of foolish young lovers. You are not to go careering about the plantation on horseback, but to be sober, discreet, and industrious with your needle. Perhaps it would be well for you to keep a journal. Is there anything else? I must consult Aunt Catharine. Your mother is quite too easy."
There was a laugh in every dimple and line in the young girl's face. Any pretense of austerity sat oddly enough on the squire's round, humorous countenance.
There was a sudden interruption of the three younger children racing up the patch in a breathless fashion. Annis went straight to her mother's arms, Charles halted at his father's side and snatched his hand.
"Is Annis my sister truly, papa?"
"But it's just the same," interrupted Varina, whose tone indicated that she had been in a warm discussion. "And, papa, can he marry her?"
"More family difficulties!" declared the squire. "Is the world going crazy? And, Varina, marriages do not begin with the babies of the family."
"I'm not a baby." Charles straightened himself up to his tallest. "I said when I was a grown man I should marry Annis. I am going to study hard and go to Congress; perhaps I shall be sent abroad on some mission."
"And isn't the husband always the oldest, papa? Charles is almost two years younger than Annis."
"One year and eight months," corrected Charles. "I don't see what difference it can make. I shall be the tallest and earn the money. And she isn't my own sister. She isn't any real relation. But if she was my cousin I could marry her."
The squire laughed heartily, which rather disconcerted Varina.
"Truly," he said, "love seems to have broken out as a distemper. And so you want Annis for a sweetheart, Charles? What does Annis say to all this?"
Annis was caressing her mother's hand.
"She likes me better than anybody except her mother."
"Oh, little Annis, have you thrown me over? And after the pony, too!"
The squire's voice was whimsically upbraiding, and his glance touched her tender heart. She flew over to him.
"Oh, I do love you!" she cried. "But you have mamma, and I know I can never get back all of her."
"Do you want all of her back? Would you take her away?"
"I wouldn't have any home to take her to. And she likes it here and all the children and you, and I like it too now. I don't mind giving part of her away."
"And next she likes me." Charles went around and stood by her side in his manliest pose. They made a pretty picture.
"I thought you lovedmea good deal," interposed Jaqueline.
"Oh, I love you all!" said the child, though she glanced doubtfully at Varina.
"But, then, girls don't marry ever, no matter how much they love each other," said the young admirer.
"And sheisour sister," persisted Varina.
"Not in that sense, my little girl. And the age makesno difference. So she can be Charles' sweetheart until he goes to college and gets another one."
"But I do not mean ever to get another one. And we were playing keep house under the big hemlock. Dinah had made us some cookies. And Rene was the company—"
"I shall not be company any more," returned the child, with a toss of the head. "If you want Annis, take her then."
"There, children, no quarreling. Aren't the cookies good enough to be peacemakers?"
"But we've eaten them all up."
Varina marched off in a huff. Jaqueline was laughing. Mrs. Mason looked annoyed. The stepfather kissed Annis tenderly.
"There," he said, "run off and finish your play. Be the best of friends, and have the best times you can. The world will look different to you a dozen years hence, and love will settle perplexities."
Jaqueline had followed her sister, though she knew Varina was generally the marplot in their play.
"Oh, Randolph, how could you!" exclaimed Mrs. Mason, with a touch of upbraiding. "Such matters are too grave and serious for children's plays."
"Yet I suppose we have all taken a hand in it. When I was a boy of nine or ten I was very much in love with a young relative who used to visit us. She taught me to dance, and I remember I wrote some verses to her. She must have been at least fifteen, for two years later she married, and I was so surprised and hurt that I think I always hated her husband until I was nearly grown and fell in love again. And after that I met your cousin."
Mrs. Mason still looked unconvinced.
"It won't hurt Charles. I like to see boys chivalrous and devoted, and Annis is such a darling. It would delightme if they were old enough to have it all in sober earnest. There, do not look so grave over a little childish nonsense. Let us rather be fortifying ourselves for the avalanche that is to descend on our devoted heads. One can hardly blame Jaqueline, but I am afraid poor Marian will have a hard time. Presentlyweshall begin to be plagued with lovers."
Mrs. Mason gave a little sigh. It had been quite a task at first to induce Annis to be really friendly with the children; now she and Charles were inseparable. At first Varina had tormented them with childish jealousy, though there were not many of their enjoyments she wanted to share. Boisterous games and frolics were more to her fancy than books, but Annis could have listened forever. They were both extravagantly fond of flowers and rambling about. Mrs. Mason had so many duties to the household and the slaves, that she was often relieved when the little girl found amusement elsewhere. And Charles was an admirable companion, with his even temper, his heroic romances, his innate love for whatever was noble and true, his courtesy and kindliness. In the earlier years Varina had quite tyrannized over him, but as their tastes began to differ he quietly emancipated himself with the rare art born in some people. The tutor had given him a dignity of position. Annis appreciated this quiet side of his nature, though she enjoyed the songs and dances and frolics of the pickaninnies, and often joined in a game of romps.
Just now the mother had a half-jealous feeling that her child should find satisfaction elsewhere. There were so many years between her and womanhood that it was foolish to pay heed to the child's play, she knew.
From various causes they had not made their usual weekly visit to the Pineries. Jaqueline half wished Patricia would insist upon going, but she did not. As forherself, she hardly dared venture, lest some untoward questions might be asked.
And so one day the old-fashioned yellow coach with driver and footman turned up the avenue. There had been a recent rain, and the air was cool and fragrant. Mr. and Mrs. Mason were out on the wide porch at the northern end. Dinner was over, and the squire had tilted back his chair where he could lean against the great square column, and prepared for his siesta.
Mrs. Mason was sewing. The girls were in the big swing under some great sycamore trees, and Louis was lounging on the grass.
"Randolph, your mother and Mr. Floyd," said his wife, startled.
Mr. Mason rose, but the footman had helped out Mr. Floyd, who sat nearest, and Mr. Mason clasped his mother's hand after she had alighted.
"This is a great surprise and pleasure, but the air is magnificent, just the day for driving. I was over to the courthouse most of the morning. I've had that bother of the Chaffee estate on my hands, but we are getting it into shape. It has taken a good deal of my time."
"We had looked for you up," returned his mother, with a touch of asperity in her tone.
"Scipio, see that the horses are put out—"
"The horses have been attended to. We stopped at Rhoby's and had a little rest and a bite of something."
"But you will have dinner—"
"No, no!" Mr. Floyd waved his long white hand impressively. "We have not come to stay, and will drive back presently."
Mrs. Mason had come forward and greeted her guests. But she felt the storm in the air, and caught the perplexity in her husband's eye.
"Shall we go within?"
"No; it is so much pleasanter here. There is enough time in winter to be shut up in rooms. Give me the great world out of doors, when it is neither too hot nor too cold."
"All are well, I suppose?" asked Mrs. Mason.
"Brandon's little son is quite ill—the second child. We only heard last evening. Some kind of a fever. I hope it will not be severe. They are fine boys," declared their grandmother with pride.
"We have escaped wonderfully on the plantation. Very little sickness so far," Mr. Mason remarked, and there was an ominous pause.
"Mr. Mason," began the old gentleman, clearing his voice, "I had a visitor a few days ago, who, I understood, had your countenance in a very impertinent matter. I was amazed that you should for a moment entertain the thought that anything he might say would be acceptable to me—to us," glancing at his wife.
Randolph Mason met the issue squarely.
"You mean Lieutenant Ralston?"
"That ill-bred puppy who, if he wants to do his country any service, had better go out against the Indians and protect the border people from their depredations instead of flirting around after women. I wonder that you sent him on such a fool's errand. You knew my plans concerning my daughter Marian?"
"I advised him to write to you, but he was very much in earnest and thought he could plead his cause better."
"The fellow is a silly, insufferable idiot! Yes—I know," waving his hand authoritatively, "the kind of people Jane consorts with, and I might have been certain the society there would do the girls no good. But that you should not only aid and abet him, but allow your home to be made the scene of an intrigue, is treating your mother and myself shamefully, and exposing your youngsister to the machinations of an unprincipled fellow! If you choose to allow your daughters to consort with such cattle—"
"Hold, Mr. Floyd! I will not have an honorable young man accused in that manner, neither will I allow you to traduce my household. There was no intrigue, but an accidental meeting here—"
Mr. Floyd rose in a passion, his eyes sparkling, his face flushed.
"Do you dare to tell me there was no underhand plan in all this? Jaqueline's adroitly worded note, that might have aroused suspicion if we had not considered you above such a scheme. It was atrocious, sir! We had refused to have her visit her sister on that account. She had met the young man there. And how was itheshould come at this particular juncture?"
"My son brought him down from Washington. He is in the habit of asking his friends. Another friend was coming, Mr. Roger Carrington."
"Where is Louis? Let me see him. Let him deny his part of the plan, if he can, with truth."
"Mr. Floyd, do common justice to the young man. He is a fine, highly esteemed person, in a good position, and numbers his friends among the best. His attentions would be no insult to any woman. That a pretty young girl should be admired is no uncommon thing; that more than one man should want to marry her is nothing derogatory. You may not care to accept him for a son-in-law—"
"She should not marry him if she never married at all!" thundered the irascible old man. "I had other and better plans for her. Some months ago one of our most estimable neighbors, a man of large property and unsullied reputation, asked for her hand. Being a widower, he would make no advances until the year ofmourning had expired, which certainly evinced a delicacy worthy of all commendation. Marian knew she was as good as betrothed. Ha! Louis!" as the young man crossed the porch. "Tell me the truth, sir? Did you not bring that scheming adventurer down here to meet Marian?"
"I have no idea to whom you refer. I have no such person on my list of acquaintances," declared Louis haughtily.
"That beggarly lieutenant! Don't tell me he wouldn't be glad enough to marry a girl with a good dower."
"I certainly asked Lieutenant Ralston to come with Mr. Carrington. I knew the Fairfax girls were to be here, but Marian was a surprise to me."
"You are not telling the truth, young man."
"Very well. Believe as you like." Louis turned on his heel and walked off indignantly.
"Father," said Mrs. Floyd reprovingly, "Jaqueline must have known. It was her letter that made all the trouble. I dare say Louis was not in the plot."
Mrs. Floyd was proud of her fine-looking grandson. He had always been a favorite.
"Yes; where is that deceitful girl? I warn you, Randolph Mason, that you will have trouble with one so headstrong and lawless."
"You forget you are speaking of my daughter."
"I don't care whose daughter she is!" the old man roared in his anger. "I want to tell her that her schemes have fallen through, that she has only made Marian a miserable, disobedient girl in encouraging this wicked fancy when she was on the eve of an engagement with her parents' approval and sanction."
Jaqueline walked across the path and up the steps with her head held haughtily erect.
"I am here to answer for any crime I may have committed,"she said in a clear, cutting tone. "Papa allows us some liberty in choosing our friends, and certainly as guests in the house they are under his supervision. The Fairfaxes were old neighbors. The Carringtons were old friends of my own mother and her dear cousin. Mr. Ralston is held in high esteem in Washington. I was not at all sure Marian would come when I wrote, but I thought it a good opportunity—"
"For that fellow to turn her head with his wretched nonsense, to make her silly and disobedient and full of romantic notions. But it will do no good, I tell you! She has been proposed to in due form by Mr. Greaves, and you may notify your friend that she is engaged. And, Miss Jaqueline, I warn you not to write her any letters upholding your views, which are certainly most pernicious and shocking for a young girl. Until she is married you are not to meet again. I call you a dangerous girl."
"That will do," said Randolph Mason, coming and taking his daughter's hand in his. "I think you quite forget yourself, Mr. Floyd. If Marian had not cared for this young man there would not have been any trouble. Beware how you compel her to marry one man while her heart is another's!"
"My daughter has been trained to habits of obedience and respect for her parents' opinions," returned the old gentleman loftily. "You will find that you have made a great mistake in the rearing of yours. But, on the other hand, they have been bereft of a mother's wisdom and care, such asyourmother has given to mine," and he bowed in a courtly fashion to Mrs. Floyd. "I am afraid that you, madam," turning to Mrs. Mason, "will find your way a thorny one indeed, if you have any regard for the probity and welfare of these children you have undertaken to train."
"We will not go into a discussion of methods," returned Mr. Mason with a sort of dry austerity. "I am sorry that Marian's meeting Lieutenant Ralston here should have led to such an unpleasant culmination. Young people of to-day do have more liberty than the older generation, yet I should have taken it very hard if Jaqueline Verney's father had compelled her to marry a man she did not like when she loved me. So we cannot blame the young man for trying—"
"That was a suitable, sensible match," interrupted Mr. Floyd. "This is a foolish, sentimental affair. And I have to say if it receives any more encouragement from this house, it will make a lasting breach. If Marian should dare to leave her home and throw herself on this fellow's protection we should cast her out altogether, and she would be no daughter of ours."
"Father, father!" entreated Mrs. Floyd, placing her hand upon his arm.
"I mean it. This is my warning. I will not be interfered with."
Mr. Mason had been standing beside his wife's chair. Now he advanced toward his stepfather.
"I have made my apology. I am sorry such a thing should have happened here, though I cannot find it in my heart to blame the young people. And now let us heal the difference. Have a glass of wine and some refreshments."
"We must return at once. It is a long ride. But I wanted you to know what your daughter's meddling had led to, and my unalterable determination. Come, Elizabeth," holding out his hand to his wife. "We shall be glad to see you and Mrs. Patricia, but for the present I insist there shall be no communication with the young people."
He glared at the group and turned away. Mr. Masonoffered no further entreaty, but went around to his mother's side.
"Twice you have married the man of your choice," he said in a low tone. "I suppose you have been very happy. Try and deal gently with Marian and persuade rather than force."
"You will understand when your girls want to make unsuitable and willful marriages. You had better look sharply after Jaqueline. When Marian is left alone she will soon recover her tranquil frame of mind. Jane is interdicted as well. Jane has grown very frivolous since she has had so much Washington society. And Mrs. Madison is extremely worldly and vain, and not to be compared with Mrs. Adams or Mrs. Washington."
Mrs. Mason rose and bade her guests a formal adieu. Mr. Mason walked down the broad steps and saw them seated in the coach. When it had turned into the winding part of the avenue Jaqueline made a rush and flung her arms around her father's neck.
"Oh, papa, dear!—I never supposed it would make any trouble. And I wasn't sure Mr. Ralston would come, or Marian either, for that matter, and I never said a word to Marian. Jane is so much interested in the matter, and both she and Mr. Jettson like Mr. Ralston so very much. But grandpapa grows more and more arbitrary—"
"Of course he was very much vexed. I am afraid I am a foolish fellow and let you children run over me. You don't even seem to stand in awe of your stepmother. I shall have to get my backbone stiffened by some process."
They came up the steps with their arms about each other. Mrs. Mason stood there, Annis clinging to her skirt, Patricia and Varina looking on in curious expectancy. Louis ventured out of his retreat.
"We don't want papa changed any, do we?" placing her other arm over her mother's shoulder, and glancing fondly into her eyes.
"I wouldn't live with grandpapa for all the world!" began Patricia.
"There, children!" exclaimed their father; "we will not discuss the matter. Mr. Floyd feels sure he is right, and I am very sorry it should have happened, though I can't see that any of you were out of the way—"
"I knew Ralston cared a great deal for Marian," said Louis, "and I never imagined that old Mr. Greaves would stand in the way. Do you suppose he would if he knew it? And I admire Ralston bearding the lion in his den. It's a shame that poor Polly should have to suffer, but I hope she will be spunky and not give in."
"Do you mean to make us marry whoever you like?" Patty edged up to her father and raised a saucy face with laughing eyes.
"You will find me terrible when you reach that period," declared their father. "At present there are enough things for you to consider and learn about without taking up marriage."
"Do you suppose grandpapa is in real earnest? He looked very resolute, didn't he? I've seen him angry with the slaves, and I shouldn't like to belong to him,I really shouldn't. And do you think he actually doesn't want any of us to come up—"
"Not at present. I trust the matter will blow over. Marian will give in after a while and, no doubt, be very comfortable. Ask your mother if she is sorry. I know little Annis wants to go back to Kentucky," and he pinched the child's cheek.
"You'll have to go alone," declared Louis.
"But I can't go alone; I should get lost. And I don't want to go away from you all."
Mrs. Mason flushed and smiled at the raillery.
"But, you see, we are old enough to appreciate mamma," began Jaqueline. "And those Greaves children are all little, and they are very plain too. One of the boys has a squint eye. It looks so queer, as if he always saw two ways. And poor Marian will have to settle to playing whist, and she does love so to dance. She had such a good time here, and in Washington with Jane."
Dixon, the overseer, came up the path. Mr. Mason was wanted to settle some matter. Patty and Jaqueline sat down on the step by their mother and Annis leaned against her knee, while Varina hung over Patty's shoulder, rather to her sister's discomfort. And, in spite of their father's request, they went on talking of Marian. Their mother said they were too young to know what was really best in such matters; but they thought they did, and she could not lead them to other subjects. They were very happy, and not difficult to get along with, if they were rather lawless. To be sure, Jaqueline did evince a tendency to admiration, and often gave dangerous glances out of eyes that could look languishing as well as laughing.
Louis did not hesitate to express his indignation to both of his sisters.
"Grandpapa is an old tyrant!" he declared; "and Idare say we'll never hear. It's like someone taking off your book when you are at the most interesting part."
"Do you suppose we'll be asked to the wedding?" wondered Patty; "and what a farce congratulations would be? 'I hope you will be very happy.' 'I wish you much joy.'"
Patty pirouetted round, shaking an imaginary hand and using a most affected tone, at which they all laughed.
But Marian surprised them all with a letter, written the day her parents were away. How she sent it was a mystery. It excited them all beyond measure.
"It was dreadful," she wrote. "Oh, Jaqueline! if I could have known Lieutenant Ralston was there I should have rushed into the room and told him that I loved him, and that I should never, never marry anyone else, if father shut me up in a dungeon and kept me on bread and water! But I did not know until he was sent away, and I can't know all that father said to him, but I do know he was very fierce and unreasonable. And I was so frightened when father went at me that I had to confess about those two delicious days. He was sure it was a plot on your part, and he taxed me with having known all about it. I didn't dream of such a thing at first, but I am afraid it was so.
"I never saw anyone so angry. At first I was dreadfully frightened. But when he accused me of duplicity and forwardness, and said I had run after Mr. Ralston, it roused me, and I said I loved him and I never would marry anyone else. I know he would wait years for me. And when Mr. Greaves asks me I shall tell him plain out how I feel about it, and I am quite sure he will not want to marry me. I hate the prosy old fellow! I wish Mr. Ralston could know how much I care for him. I expect you are having a terrible time to-day with father. Oh, I wish he could be like brother Randolph! Oh, Jaqueline,do you know how delightful it is! And your mother is so sweet, just like another girl. Such old people as father and mother forget they ever were young."
There was much more youthful and romantic protest and resolve.
"I really didn't think Marian had so much force of character," said Louis. "I do wonder if it would be wrong to give Ralston an inkling of how the case stands? It seems as if she almost expected us to do it."
"I think papa ought to see the letter," returned Jaqueline soberly. "And I almost know he will not want us to stir further in the matter. Marian must have someone she can trust, or she would not have dared to write the letter. Oh, I hope she will be true and brave, and some time it may come out right!"
"Mis' Jettson's come," said Julia. "And your pa and ma have gone over to Middle Creek."
"Oh, Jane!" They all made a rush to the great front piazza, Jaqueline with her letter in hand.
"Oh, girls!" cried Jane, "did you have a dreadful time when father was down here? He wrote me a letter. But Lieutenant Ralston had been in, and he told me of his call at the Pineries. You see, he thought they were as good as engaged; only he meant to begin honorably, and ask father's sanction to his addresses. But father was—yes, really outrageous—if he is my father! I've always felt he would be a gentleman under any circumstances, but this was insulting, abusive; and Lieutenant Ralston is well bred and well connected, and is in the way of getting a fine position. And, in any event, there was nothing derogatory to Marian in his falling in love with her. Why, he is invited almost everywhere, and the girls are pulling straws for him. Then father writes me a very cross and irritating note, and says for the present Marian is to hold no communication with me—my own sister, too!—and that Iam not to mention nor in any way refer to Mr. Ralston, but that any letter of mine will be read by him first. Why, we might as well go back to the Dark Ages, or be Puritans at once! I believe those old Puritan fathers compelled their daughters to marry to their liking. If Icouldonly know how Marian feels! Why do you all look so queer? Jaqueline, who is your letter from?"
"From Marian," said the girl, with rising color.
"Oh, Imustsee it." She took it from Jaqueline's hand. "Oh, poor, dear Marian! If she loves him it will be all right. And she does. I think father won't have such an easy time persuading her to marry Mr. Greaves. Why, he could have been her father; he's old enough! And none of us can write to her. It is too cruel! Now tell me what was said the day they were down here."
The scene lost nothing by repetition. They all agreed about the injustice. Then Jane decided she would return at once. The baby was teething and rather fretful. They were to go to Bladensburg for a fortnight.
"And, Jaqueline, I wish you could come. It is really quite gay there, and the water is said to be so good. Arthur is too busy to leave, and often has to spend his evenings drafting and making plans. Patty might come too, if she liked."
So the word of encouragement went its way to the lover, and was a great comfort and delight.
"I hope you will all respect grandfather's wishes," said Mr. Mason, when he read his young sister's letter. "I shall trust you not to hold any communication with Marian."
"But if Jane does?" commented Louis.
"That is not strictly our affair. And, Louis, do not be too ready to give young Ralston the encouragement of this letter, even. Mr. Floyd is very tenacious and—"
"Oh, you might as well call it obstinate," laughed Louis. "Perhaps Marian may inherit some of the same characteristics, when it comes to the point. And I fancy we are all on her side. It is as you once said, Jack, wedohave to take sides!"
"And I'm going to be on Marian's side," said Varina proudly. "I don't like grandpapa very much. Annis, what will you do?"
"I like Marian," she replied a little timidly.
"Now we must go and see what side Charles will take. The old knights fought for the ladies."
"I see you are all arrayed in rebellion," and the squire shook his head. "I am afraid I have not brought you up properly."
Jaqueline and Patty went to Bladensburg, which was quite a resort. Louis joined a party who were going down the Chesapeake in a sailing vessel, and the three young ones played and disputed and made up friends. The elders essayed several duty visits to the Pineries, but they saw the girls only in the presence of their parents, so Marian had no opportunity of explaining how matters were going with her; but she was thinner and heavy-eyed, and had lost her spirits. Mr. and Mrs. Floyd held their heads high and were rather captious.
What had happened when Mr. Greaves' year of mourning had expired was that he went over to the Pineries one afternoon dressed in a new suit and gotten up quite in the style of the day. After Marian entered the room he made a formal proposal for her hand and asked her father's consent.
"You have mine, most cordially," said Mr. Floyd in his grandest manner. "It is my wish that my daughter should accept you as her future husband. It is natural and womanly that she should have some misgivings on the subject, as it is a grave one and full of responsibility.But we have reared her to do her duty in that state of life to which it shall please God to call her. And her mother and I hope to see her fill this place in your home and your affections, and become a happy wife at the proper time. We are in no hurry to part with her, but until that time you will be a most welcome guest."
Marian shivered, but her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth when she would have spoken. It seemed to her as if she should scream if he touched her hand, but he contented himself with making a rather elaborate speech to her mother, and pressing the elder's hand to his lips. There was some wine and cake brought in, and healths were drunk. After some desultory conversation supper was announced, a very high tea befitting a festive occasion. There was the inevitable game of whist afterward. This was Thursday, and Sunday Mr. Greaves walked over to the Floyds' pew, and down the aisle with Miss Marian, Mrs. Floyd having taken Dolly under her wing. And the matter seemed to be settled without any voice from Marian either way.
"But it is dreadful! I never, never will marry him!" sobbed the girl on Dolly's neck in the quiet of their own chamber. "If Icouldrun away! And if I only knew about Mr. Ralston!"
"If we could only hear from Jane! You will have to let things go on and hope for some way out of it. I wonder who will come along for me? And we might be having such a delightful time with Jane! I sometimes wish Mr. Ralston had not come to hand and spoiled it all."
"But you can't think, Dolly, how deliciously sweet those two days were! A whole lifetime of that!" sighingly.
"But men only love that way a little while. Then it gets to be an old story and is merely respect," returned the wise younger sister.
"I am sure Arthur is fond of Jane and proud enough of her too, and look at brother Randolph! Oh, I just envy Jaqueline! What a nice time she will have!"
Dolly had said so many times, "It's just awful, Marian," that she had nothing more left to say. Then, it was hard to be watched and questioned and not allowed any liberty on Marian's account. She didn't see how Marian could run away, for she was never trusted to go anywhere alone. And no well-bred girl would throw herself at her lover without a very urgent invitation.
The clergyman and his wife came in to tea, and found Mr. Greaves there, and congratulated them both. Then the neighbors took it up as a settled thing, and poor Marian felt the net closing about her. There had been a vague half-expectation that Lieutenant Ralston would make some effort to assure her of his constancy. Or if some word could come from Jane!
Louis went back to Williamsburg, and Patricia was sent for some educational advantages. There was a new little girl at the Jettsons', and Jaqueline was to be one of the godmothers. Afterward Jane pleaded so hard for her to remain. She could go on with her French and her singing, as she had a very pretty voice and singing was one of the accomplishments of the day. Then, too, the Carringtons were very glad to have her. Indeed, Jaqueline was a great favorite for her vivacity and her charming manner, which was so pretty and deferential to her elders, so bright and winsome to her compeers.
Mrs. Mason took up the education of the two little girls with Charles' help. He went over to the house of the clergyman every morning, who was a graduate of Oxford and quite ready to piece out his salary with a class of five small boys in the neighborhood. Charles was a born student, delighted with all kinds of knowledge. Annis was always interested as well.
"You will make the child a regular bookworm," declared the squire. And then he would take her and Varina off for a canter over the hills.
"I don't see why girls and women shouldn't love to learn," Charles said to his mother.
"But they can't be doctors, nor ministers, nor judges, nor politicians," smilingly.
"They could help their husbands if they knew how."
"But they help them by keeping the house in good order, and watching the servants, and sewing, and making their husbands comfortable and happy."
"I want Annis to learn a great many other things, for you know I am to marry her when we are grown up," said the little boy gravely.
Mrs. Mason smiled at his earnestness.
A messenger had been sent down from the Pineries early in December to invite all the family to a Christmas dinner. Mrs. Floyd had not been in her usual health for some weeks back, and now that the cause of disagreement had been removed she was anxious to receive all the family that could come together. She had hoped to have Mr. and Mrs. Conway, but he could not leave his parish at such an important time. So, if they would waive their own family gathering and join her she would be most grateful. She realized that she and Mr. Floyd were getting to be old people, and they could not tell how much longer they might be spared.
"Then it is all settled that Marian will marry Mr. Greaves," said Mr. Mason.
His wife gave a little sigh.
Jaqueline came home to hear the verdict and vent her indignation. Jane had received a letter from her father announcing that Marian had accepted the husband selected for her and given up her rebellious attitude. So the family,he hoped, would meet in amity once more. Mrs. Floyd had not been well of late, and was desirous of seeing her new little granddaughter.
"Marian can't have given up so easily! And all this time Mr. Ralston has been so confident! What an awful disappointment it will be to him! He has gone up to Philadelphia to consult with some engineers. Oh, papa, can't something be done? Jane is almost wild about it."
"My dear girl, if Marian is satisfied—"
"But I cannot think she is. She did love Mr. Ralston so!"
"A girl's fancy. How many lovers have you had? See how indulgent I am to trust you to Jane, who really hasn't much more sense than you."
"Why, I haven't any real lover. And I do not want one for ever so long." Yet she flushed and dropped her eyes.
Perhaps he would not have trusted his daughter in the giddy whirl of society if he had not known of someone every way worthy and acceptable, who was watching her and waiting for the right moment to speak. When she had taken her fling of gayety, she would be the more ready to listen. And he would not mar what he really desired by seeming to bias her inclinations. She was not a girl to be forced into a step or have her patience worn out, as he suspected was the case with his young sister Marian.
"Of course Jane means to join the family party?"
"Oh, yes. Jane has been almost heartbroken over the matter. She is very fond of Marian and Dolly. Oh, papa, I hope you won't get cross and queer as you grow older!"
He laughed and patted her shoulder. "Grandfather thinks you will all come to grief from over-indulgence."
"We are all going to come out magnificently in theend, just to prove him a false prophet and you the very dearest of fathers."
"You are a sad flatterer, Jack. I'm afraid you learn too much of it in the gay circles. But you must be on your best behavior at the Pineries, and not stir up any disaffection. Family differences are very disagreeable things; and, after all, age is entitled to a certain indulgence and respect. I shouldn't wonder if you were a queer, arbitrary old lady yourself."
"Oh, papa!" reproachfully.
Patricia thought it very hard that she could not come home for Christmas, which was the great holiday of all the year. But Louis was not coming; he had some arrears to make up, and was also very much interested in one of a certain household of girls, and was to attend their Christmas-Eve ball. Patty grumbled a good deal. Aunt Catharine treated her like one of the children. She was not allowed to go to parties, and she had to learn all kinds of fancywork and cooking, and making sauces and everything. "And I've made up my mind if keeping a house is so much work I shall never get married," declared the much-tried girl. "And I think aunt was much nicer as an old maid than a married woman. Though she's a great personage now, and everybody comes to her for advice and patterns and stitches in lace-making and recipes for everything. If I ever did marry, I wouldn't be a clergyman's wife."
Mrs. Conway wrote a rather stilted, but very affectionate, letter to her mother and Marian. She congratulated the latter warmly. Gray Court was certainly a fine old place. Four children were a great responsibility; she found her three a continual care, but Mr. Conway was so devoted to his study, his classes, and his sermons she could have no help from him. As they wanted certainly to come to the marriage in the spring, it was better to waituntil then, as it was quite impossible to get away now. She sent Marian a piece of fine old lace that she had bought from a parishioner in very reduced circumstances, and who was the last of her line.
The Pineries wore a welcome aspect for the guests. Great fires were kept blazing in the wide chimneys, and the Franklin stove in the hall sent out pleasant cheer. Brandon the son, his wife, and three children were among the first guests. The Masons added six, and Mrs. Jettson came with her three babies, but her husband was not to join them until Christmas morning, on account of some engagements.
There was staying at the house a young Mr. Floyd, a distant relative from South Carolina. It was plain to be seen that he was very sweet on Dolly, and grandfather was highly elated.
Mr. Greaves had certainly thawed a little. He was quite lover-like in a courtly and formal fashion, and made himself very much a son of the house. In arranging for the guests Mrs. Floyd had brought her two daughters next to her own room so there should be no chance for nightly gossips or confidences over dressing. Marian had begun to think a home of her own desirable. With the unreason of womankind she felt that Mr. Ralston ought to make some effort to learn her true sentiments. As he had not, as also her mother persisted that young society men of that class thought it entertainment to make love to every woman they met, she had yielded reluctantly.
Then, too, Gray Court was a fine old place. It had not suffered much during the Revolution, though the treasures of plate and fine china had been buried out of harm's way. Marian found that she was the envy of the elder spinsters, and even the younger girls thought her lucky. So she had given in on condition that the marriage should not take place until May.
"Honey, dat's an awful onlucky month!" said her old nurse.
"Then it shall be June," returned the prospective bride.
"And suppose I should be married at the same time! This is Preston Floyd's second visit, and he and father hit off wonderfully well. They agree in politics, and I wonder why it is such a pleasure to have the country go to ruin. However, I don't think it will; it has stood many storms. And Charleston must be an agreeable city to live in, if all be true that is said about it. I would like Philadelphia or New York, but I see no prospect of getting there. So if Preston asks me to marry him I shall accept. I don't suppose father would ever trust us to visit Jane again. And when you are gone it will be dismal. Marriage seems the right and proper thing. I wonder if Jaqueline has a lover!"
A modern girl would have complained that Jaqueline made "big eyes" at Preston Floyd. Before she had been an hour in the house there was a different atmosphere. She was not aggressive, and her rather hoydenish ways were toned down to a certain fearless elegance. She was bright and vivacious and had bits of merry wit at her tongue's end, yet it was not so much what she said as her manner of saying it.
"I can't get a word alone with Marian," complained Jane to the young girl. "But I must say that Mr. Greaves acquitted himself wonderfully well last evening. Only Mr. Ralston is so sure Marian will be faithful through everything. He gave me so many messages for her, and mother makes a great point of not mentioning his name. What shall I do?"
"It's horrid! I do believe Marian has ceased to care for him. And now that everything is settled it would seem dreadful to stir it all up again. Papa insisted that I should let the matter entirely alone."
"But Mr. Ralston will be so dreadfully disappointed. He was so proud of his new position for her sake. And Marian really puzzles me. Sheseemscontent. Oh, did you see that exquisite lace Aunt Catharine sent her? Of course itisall settled, and if Marian is satisfied—oh, Jaqueline, I hope you will really fall in love! I adore lovers, even if I am the mother of three children. I mean that my little girl shall have a delightful time when she is grown up."
The children were having a gay time. Varina was the leader, and Annis, with her soft ways, the peacemaker, when anything went wrong. The two Jettson boys adored her. Charles roamed over the old house, and pleased grandfather by his interest in family legends and the history of various articles of furniture and plate. It was grandfather's boast that there wasn't a stick of Yankee furniture in the house. Charles longed to have Annis with him, but though grandfather said "she was a nice little thing," he did not take very fervently to little girls, and had more than once regretted that Jane and Marian had not been boys.
"I don't see what you find interesting about those babies," Charles said rather disdainfully. "They're always wanting to tumble over you and make a noise, and they're never as funny as the little slave children, whocanamuse you if you want that sort of fun. I wish you'd come and hear grandfather talk about the Indians and when the settlers first came to Virginia."
"I don't think he quite likes me," Annis said hesitatingly, with a nervous little laugh.
"As well as he likes any child girls. I think he likes them better when they are big enough to play whist. But you could listen, all the same."
"I get tired of just listening. I like the children becausethey are alive and can laugh and talk. The other people who have been dead so long—"
"But you liked Captain John Smith, and the Froissart men who were so brave. And King Arthur—"
"But Grandfather Floyd said there never was any such King Arthur, nor Merlin, nor ever so many other people."
"Grandfather is wrong about some things. And it isn't polite to contradict him, because he is an old man. Oh, do come!"
"Annis! Annis!" called two or three eager baby voices.
"Oh, yes, I would rather be with them. And when we get home you may tell me all these things. They'll sound so much better than in grandpapa's voice. It sometimes gets shaky and seems cold, while yours is soft and sweet and fine when you come to the grand places."
That mollified the boy, who certainly had become grandfather's favorite, and was pronounced sensible.
The slaves at the Pineries were kept with a rather strict hand. Very few were sold off the plantation, and then for the gravest misconduct, when whipping had ceased to be efficacious. But they had increased largely, and were often hired out, those for the year at Christmas or the beginning of the year. Christmas Eve there was a general gathering, and they were allowed a sort of ball in the great kitchen, where most of the rough work was done. There were music and song singing, charms were tried, and they ended with dancing. All the autumn it was looked forward to eagerly.
The supper in the main house was early, and the smallerchildren were put to bed. The three Masons and young Archibald Floyd, who had his grandfather's name, were to be allowed at the "grand occasion." There were a number of guests, and seats around the outside were prepared for them.
"And we used to open the dancing," said Jane. "How proud they were about young missy! And we tried some of the charms. Looking for your future husband in a pail of water with a mirror at the bottom. And jumping over the candles—do you remember that, Polly? What fun we used to have with the girls! Why, it is three or four years since I have been here at Christmastide."
"Oh, will they jump over the candles?" cried Jaqueline. "They did it at the Fairfaxes' last year, and Betty put the very first one out."
"Why, Betty must be two and twenty," said Jane. "It would be queer if the sign came true."
"It doesn't really," laughed Jaqueline. "It is like tipping your chair over and tumbling up stairs."
"I want to try it," declared Dolly. "If you go over the whole seven you are going to be married soon. The others count for years. And if you put the first one out you will surely be an old maid."
Some of the songs were very pretty, some ridiculously funny, several embellished by pantomime. Then the charms began. The first few were rather simple, and caused an immense amount of giggling among the young Phillises. The shadow faces were pursued with a certain awe, as if they really were something uncanny.
Dolly, Jaqueline, and a young lady guest were the only ones of the "quality" who cared to look.
"It is as much your own shadow as anything," declared Jaqueline, "and it quivers so that you can hardly make it out."
The candles were lighted and placed in a row at evendistances. The young lads tried them first. There were no skirts in the way, and they went over them triumphantly.
"But men can get mah'ied when they like," said Rose, Marian's pretty young maid, in her soft half-lisping tone, "but girls can't always."
"Try, Rose!" exclaimed Jaqueline.
"I doan know anyone I want. An' I'm promised to go over to Gray Court with Miss Mayan."
"You'll find someone there, perhaps."
Bathsheba, tall and supple, with the figure of a Greek sculpture, went over the seven triumphantly. Sam caught her by the hand, and a shout went up, echoing in a laughing chorus.
Others tried it with varying luck, evident mortification, and disappointment. There were some who had been practicing in secret the whole week, and were well prepared.
"Now I am going to try," said Dolly; and there was a general applauding among the slaves. The space was made a little larger, though eyes were eager and necks were craned; and broad smiles illuminated black and brown faces.
"Way for Miss Dolly now. She goin' ober de whole row. Whoop, now!" and Jep gave his knee a resounding slap.
Dolly gathered up her skirts. The first jump was a success, the candle only flaring a little. The second—then some clapping began. The third dainty leap brought more applause, then on and on until she had cleared the mystical number. Shouts and laughter almost shook the roof.
"I knew you could do it, Miss Dolly," said Rose, in exultation. "And Miss Mayan can, too."
"Now you will see my luck," and Jaqueline stepped out on the floor.
"One—two." Out went the third candle, but Jaqueline kept on and put out the fourth. She had half a mind to be angry.
"Well, two years isn't long to wait," remarked Dolly consolingly.
"It isn't the waiting. I don't see how I could have been so stupid, for I can jump almost anything."
Miss Marshall was a little timid, but went through the ordeal successfully, amid bravos.
"Marian, try your luck," said Dolly, as Preston Floyd squeezed her hand so hard it brought a flush to her cheek. "Ought she not, Cousin Preston? She's the only remaining single girl here."
"Yes, she must," insisted Jaqueline. "You'll all have time to get good and ready for my wedding."
Jaqueline had recovered her spirits, and caught Marian's arm, laughing gayly.
"Yes. Why it's rare fun! Come, Marian. Then I'll try. I shall go the whole seven," declared Preston.
Marian hung back, but they all persisted. If Mr. Greaves had been there, or her mother, but the elders had settled to whist, there being enough for two tables. Some sudden spirit roused her. She had done it times before. She would be young and gay just for five minutes.
"Come." Preston was leading her out, to Jane's utter surprise. Marian had been so dignified for the last twenty-four hours; ten years older, it seemed, than last winter. And how girlish then!
"Marian!"
Preston laughed. "Now, Cousin Marian. The whole seven, for the honor of the house of Floyd."
There were two graceful, successful leaps. Her hand trembled, half a yard of skirt dropped, and out went the third candle. There was a general cry of disappointment.
"That was an accident," declared Preston. "Light the candle. Marian, you shall have another chance."
"No, no, no!" She caught Jane's arm. "It was very silly," but her voice had a strained, broken sound, and she looked frightened.
"Take your turn, Cousin Preston, then let them go to dancing. The fiddlers are tuning up."
Jane drew her sister a little aside, while Preston Floyd won the acclaim of the crowd.
"Are you happy and satisfied, Marian, or miserable?" she asked in a rapid tone, just under her breath. "You are so queer and changed."
"Don't," Marian entreated. "Of course I shall marry Mr. Greaves. That was girlish foolishness, you know. And the candles really didn't mean anything. Jaqueline," as the girl had come up to her, "we were both in the same boat for awkwardness. I think I must be growing old, but you did not have so good an excuse. Do you want to stay for the dancing? Had we not better all return to the drawing room?"
The younger group demurred.
"Then Jane will stay and play propriety."
Marian turned swiftly, and was gone before Jane could utter a word. But she paused in the hall and leaned up against the door jamb that was almost like a column. Her breath came quick and hard.
"It is too late," she said breathlessly, to herself. "And he doesn't care. I have passed my word, and to break it would call down a judgment upon myself. Then—I couldn't," and she shuddered. "I am not daring like Jaqueline, or even Dolly. But Dolly thinks it best."
When she entered the room her mother glanced up with sharp inquiry that softened as she motioned her to her side.
"Did you get tired of the nonsense?" she asked, in anapproving tone. "My hand is most played out, and you shall take my place."
Mr. Greaves sat over opposite. He raised his serious, self-complacent face. She could recall another,—eager, warm with rushing emotions,—and it stood back of this one like a shadow. But, somehow, it did not beckon her. She was only a commonplace girl, rather straitly and strictly reared, with obedience impressed upon her from babyhood. Her father and mother always kept their promises, and she must do the same.
The fun was fast and furious out in the great kitchen. But at ten the mistress appeared and made them a little speech. They were to go to their cabins in an orderly manner, and any disturbance would be reported. To-morrow morning they would come for their gifts, and the week would be one of holidays.
"T'ankee, missus; t'ankee, missus!" came from voices still full of jollity; and woolly heads bobbed in a tumultuous manner.
Christmas Day was made festive by a grand dinner, to which all the gentry round were invited. The children had theirs in a smaller room, with quite ornate serving, and afterward there were games until dark, when the visitors were sent home in the different carriages. Everybody was tired from the festivities, and the day had certainly been a success.
"I suppose the lieutenant is quite crowded out of it all?" inquired Mr. Jettson of his wife. "Really, Mr. Greaves isn't so bad. But Ralston will take it mightily hard. He'd wait seven years for a woman. And Marian seems, somehow, years older, and is beginning to have some of your mother's dignity."
"It is all settled, certainly. As a topic it is interdicted, and one doesn't get a chance at Marian. Mother and father are elated, only that isn't quite the word to applyto them. And there is the Floyd cousin, very much smitten with Dolly, and I suppose that will be a match. I feel as if I had lost both of the girls. I had planned to do so much for Marian, and keep her near to me."
Mrs. Jettson sighed plaintively.
"You poor girl! Then you will have to comfort yourself with Jaqueline."
"It's queer," continued Jane retrospectively, "but Randolph's family seem nearer to me since they are growing up than my own sisters and brother. Brandon is so bitter against the administration, and such a tremendous aristocrat, while Randolph is always jolly and good-humored, if he can't quite approve of what is done. And Jaqueline is so diverting and attractive, while Mrs. Patricia is charming. If Dolly should go away—"
"Preston Floyd is an agreeable young fellow. Of course the family is all right, and the money, I suppose. Your father will look out for that."
"I know Marian isn't happy—"
"It's a sad piece of business, but it is too late to move in it now."
Jane felt this was true. Could her father have madehergive up her lover? Certainly he was not as arbitrary then. Or was it her salvation that no rich lover came to hand?
There was another day of festivity, and a dinner to some who could not come on Christmas Day. Miss Greaves was present with the two elder children, who were stiff and proper. She did not altogether approve of the young wife, when there were more suitable women ready to take her brother.
The Masons gathered up their flock and drove home immediately afterward, Mr. Jettson going with them, and the others were to follow the next day.
"There wasn't much fun at grandpapa's, except onChristmas Eve," declared Varina. "Archie Floyd thinks he owns the whole world. If grandpapa should die they will come there to live, and Uncle Brandon own the slaves and everything."
"Children must not discuss such matters," said her father rather peremptorily.
"But Archie said—"