CHAPTER XIV.THE HOUSE-WARMING.THE next day the piano and theétagèrecame, and were duly disposed of in our pretty parlor. I could not help agreeing with Lilian that both of them were absolutely necessary to the proper appointment of the room. After she had covered theétagèrewith a variety of articles, most of which had to be purchased for the purpose, the effect was pleasing.The piano filled a waiting space; and really there seemed to be nothing more to wish for in this world. Lilian played a few tunes on the newinstrument, and my home seemed to be invested with a new charm. Beyond the party, I looked forward to pleasant hours when our friends should gather in this room on Sunday evening to sing sacred music, for which Tom Flynn had a decided partiality.On Friday morning I went to the bank as usual. When I returned, Smith had taken possession of the house, and was making his arrangements for the grand occasion in the evening. I am bound to say that he made but little fuss for so great an affair. When the evening came, a colored gentleman in white cotton gloves was stationed at the door, and more waiters were disposed of in other parts of the house. People came—every body Lilian had invited, except those she wanted most, viz: my wealthy friend from Beacon Street, with his family. They did not come, and I had not supposed they would.Mrs. Oliphant came, and certainly this was a triumph. Lilian felt that she had outgeneralled her mother, and conquered a peace. I am afraid it required a desperate struggle on the part of “dear ma” to yield the point, and I could only guess at the consideration which induced her to come down from the “high horse.” But she wasstiff and magnificent at first. She did not seem to enjoy the affair, and looked upon me as an ogre who had defeated all her cherished plans.Miss Bertha came, and so did Tom; and early in the evening I was not a little surprised to hear the piano giving out the solemn notes of Peterboro and Hebron, sung by a large portion of the company. The instrument was pronounced excellent. Bertha sang like a nightingale, and I am not sure that the piano did not cement a regard which ultimately transformed the fair pianist into Mrs. Tom Flynn.Everything went well, and at eleven o’clock Smith’s supper was uncovered. When I saw the stores with which the table was loaded, I was afraid that the expense would spoil the face of a hundred dollar bill. A little later, when champagne, Madeira and sherry were produced, I was somewhat troubled. Reading the dates on the bottles, I was absolutely alarmed.“I did not think you intended to have wine, Lilian,” I remarked, rather seriously.“Not have wine!” exclaimed she, after she had imbibed a glass of champagne. “Why, it would be no party at all without wine. I told Smith to bring the best, and plenty of it.”He had evidently done so, and I groaned in spirit.“Tom Flynn don’t drink wine,” I added.“Let him drink coffee, then. We can suit his taste.”“He thinks it is wicked to furnish wine.”“Well, he can have the full benefit of his opinion,” laughed Lilian, whose tongue flew merrily under the stimulus of the wine she had drank.Mrs. Oliphant took champagne, and warmed up under its influence. She became quite sociable, and even forgiving. I was very glad to see that Miss Bertha, for some reason best known to herself, did not partake of the generous beverage. I am not sure that it was not the prospect of disposing of another of her incumbrances quite as much as the influence of the champagne which melted Mrs. Oliphant. Certainly Miss Bertha’s chances were very flattering. Psalmody seemed to have done its perfect work.Tom looked very serious when the wine began to flow in rivers of profusion. He did not like it, and he seemed to be out of his element. While most of the party were eating and drinking in the hall, dining and sitting-rooms, I heard the voices of Bertha and Tom mingling with the notes of the piano in a sacred song. They were alone in the parlor, preferring to be away from the noisy revel over the wine cup.The House Warming.Page 204.Smith’s stores of champagne and Madeira seemed to be inexhaustible, and when the clock struck one, some of the party, not excluding a few of the ladies, were in an exceedingly happy frame of mind. Then a dance was proposed, and Tom and Bertha were driven from the parlor. A gentleman played and called the changes. My good friend was actually scandalized by the orgies of the revellers. He never danced; he did not believe in it. Bertha appeared to sympathize with him, though this was not in accordance with her antecedents.Wine was brought up to the parlor, and the dance went on, though some of my guests were slightly unsteady in their movements. I was shocked to see how wild Lilian was, and I mentally decided that no wine should ever be brought into my house again, for the occasion was now nothing but a revel. Some of the older of the party proposed to go home, and Tom joined them. Miss Bertha was attended to her house by him. When everybody was worn out, the party broke up, and all went away. Lilian dropped into her bed exhausted, and in a measure stupefied. As thehostess, she had been compelled to imbibe oftener than she desired, and really I was grieved to see her in this condition. After all was still, I went through the rooms to see that the windows were secure and the lights put out. I was shocked when I saw what damage had been done to the furniture. The carpets were stained with wine, ice cream and cake; the new piano was scratched and discolored, and the cloth greased. Besides the cost of this house-warming, whatever it might be, the damages could not be less than three hundred dollars.At daylight I went to bed, sick at heart. I doubted whether the hundred and fifty dollars in my pocket would pay the bills, and I was miserable. I was in debt at least twenty-five hundred dollars. Lilian slept heavily after the night’s debauch. But I could not sleep. What if the bank should discover what I had done? What would the world say the next day, when the particulars of my party were known? for I was satisfied they could not be concealed.At seven o’clock I got up, my head aching fearfully, for I had not wholly spared the champagne. I was positively miserable. I intended to visit Springhaven that day, and secure the loanfrom Aunt Rachel. It was not safe to let the matter stand any longer. I went to the bank, and with a throbbing brow attended to my duties. Tom looked very serious, but he did not say any thing to me. Probably he thought I was going to ruin rapidly, not because I had appropriated the funds of the bank, but because I furnished wine to my guests.The news of my party had not yet been circulated, and I was spared any allusion to it. When I went home I found Lilian had not risen from her bed. She was quite sick. Biddy had done what she could to restore the house to its wonted order, but it was still in confusion. I could not go to Springhaven that day. By Monday morning Lilian was able to get up, and was herself again. She was even willing to acknowledge that such parties “do not pay.” I am sure I enjoyed our little Sunday evening gatherings, when Tom and Bertha sang sacred music, much better.When I went to the bank on Monday, I found Smith’s bill enclosed in an envelope. I was afraid to open it at first, but when I did so my worst fears were more than confirmed. The total was three hundred and fifty dollars, of which two-thirds was for champagne, Madeira and sherry. Iwas appalled and terrified. It must be promptly paid, or Smith would be dunning me. I was short two hundred dollars.I read the bill a second time, and I was absolutely in despair. My month’s salary, when paid, would not make up the deficiency; and I had all my house bills to provide for, which would take up the whole sum. I was running blindly before the wind to destruction. My extravagance would ruin me in a short time. But it was no use to cry. I was in the scrape, and I must get out of it.My hopeful tendencies came to my aid. With careful economy I could soon pay my debts. A bright idea flashed through my excited brain. Would it not be just as easy to induce Aunt Rachel to lend me two thousand dollars as fifteen hundred? It was a brilliant thought, in my estimation. Five hundred dollars could make no difference to her, if the interest was punctually paid. It was a plain case. If the old lady did not promptly meet my views, I could frighten her into acquiescence. All right! The two thousand was sure enough.I did not think I should be able to go to Springhaven before Saturday, and I did not careto receive a dunning visit from Smith. I might as well “be hung for an old sheep as a lamb.” I could borrow five hundred more from the bank, with no greater risk than I had already incurred—and I did so! My cash was then two thousand short; but before another week had passed, I should get the money from Aunt Rachel, and make good the deficit.I called upon Smith, and paid the bill. I did not venture to suggest that it was more than I had expected it would be. With so much money in my pocket I felt rich again, and did not bother my head to consider how I had obtained it. I went home in better spirits than for a week. I talked pleasantly and magnificently to Lilian. I had even forgotten my good resolution to practise a rigid economy, for with three hundred dollars in cash in my pocket, it no longer seemed necessary.Lilian, too, was in excellent spirits. She was very affectionate, and when I sat down on the sofa after supper, she seated herself beside me, and told me how happy she was in her new home, and how glad she was that I had compelled her to move into it. With my head upon her shoulder and her arm around my neck she told mehow kind and indulgent, how tender and affectionate I had always been, and then—added that she had not had a new dress since we were married! Mrs. Gordon Grahame had just come out in a splendid black silk; Lilian had never had a black silk, and she wanted one just like it.“How much will it cost, Lilian?” I asked, rather startled by this ultra-affectionate turn in the conversation.“You won’t be angry with me, Paley—will you?”“Of course I won’t be angry with you, Lilian,” I laughed.“But I have been very economical with clothes.”“I know you have, my dear; and I haven’t a word of fault to find. I only asked how much the black silk would cost.”“I can’t tell exactly what it will cost,” she answered, biting her finger nails, as though she feared even to express an opinion.“Will it cost fifty dollars?” I asked, thinking I was placing it high.“Fifty dollars! Why, what an ignoramus you are, Paley!” tinkled she, in the most silvery of tones. “You don’t think I can buy a black silk such as a lady would wear for fifty dollars, do you?”“Well, I don’t know any thing about it,” I replied, abashed at my own ignorance. “Will a hundred do it?”“Hardly. I can’t tell precisely what it will cost, but I think Mrs. Gordon Grahame’s did not cost less than a hundred and twenty. Don’t be angry with me, Paley. Don’t look so cold!”“I am neither angry nor cold, dearest,” I answered, pulling out my portmonnaie, and taking therefrom one hundred and fifty dollars, which I handed to her.It was the half I had left of what I had stolen that day—for, in the light of after days, I may as well call the act by its true name. I could not bear to have her accuse me of being angry, or of being cold, or of grudging her any thing I had, or any thing I could get.“O, thank you, Paley! How generous you are!” she exclaimed, giving me a rapturous kiss.She was satisfied, and so was I. We talked and read and played backgammon till ten o’clock.“Paley, won’t you take a glass of wine?” she asked. “We had some left the other night.”“I don’t care, Lilian. Did I tell you how much that party cost?”“No.”I told her.“I think that was quite reasonable, considering what we had. The champagne was splendid, and the Madeira had been to India three times—so Smith said.”She brought a bottle of sherry. It was old and strong. I was rather startled to see her take two glasses within a few minutes of each other, and I wished there was no wine in the house. We went to bed happy, and no thought of the future disturbed me.The following Saturday was the last day of the month, and I was detained at the bank so late that I could not go to Springhaven. I did not like to leave while others remained, for I did not know but Mr. Bristlebach might take it into his head to overhaul my cash again. The next Monday I learned that Aunt Rachel was very sick, had been attacked with paralysis. I went down to see her that night. She was almost senseless, and I could not talk with her. But she might die in a few days, and then her money would all be mine—I hoped; for it did not yet appear that she had made a will.Two or three days later, my uncle, Captain Halliard, came into the bank just as we were closing. He looked particularly grim and savage.“Paley, your aunt is very sick,” said he.“I know she is, but I hope she will get better,” I replied, perhaps stretching the truth no more than many people do under such circumstances.“I am attending to her affairs, as usual.”I bowed, and wondered what was coming.“I found among her papers a note for a thousand dollars, signed by you,” he added, taking the document from his pocket.My heart came up into my throat. What was he driving at?“If you can afford to give parties and fill your guests with champagne, you can afford to pay this note,” he continued, sternly.My plan was set at naught.
CHAPTER XIV.THE HOUSE-WARMING.THE next day the piano and theétagèrecame, and were duly disposed of in our pretty parlor. I could not help agreeing with Lilian that both of them were absolutely necessary to the proper appointment of the room. After she had covered theétagèrewith a variety of articles, most of which had to be purchased for the purpose, the effect was pleasing.The piano filled a waiting space; and really there seemed to be nothing more to wish for in this world. Lilian played a few tunes on the newinstrument, and my home seemed to be invested with a new charm. Beyond the party, I looked forward to pleasant hours when our friends should gather in this room on Sunday evening to sing sacred music, for which Tom Flynn had a decided partiality.On Friday morning I went to the bank as usual. When I returned, Smith had taken possession of the house, and was making his arrangements for the grand occasion in the evening. I am bound to say that he made but little fuss for so great an affair. When the evening came, a colored gentleman in white cotton gloves was stationed at the door, and more waiters were disposed of in other parts of the house. People came—every body Lilian had invited, except those she wanted most, viz: my wealthy friend from Beacon Street, with his family. They did not come, and I had not supposed they would.Mrs. Oliphant came, and certainly this was a triumph. Lilian felt that she had outgeneralled her mother, and conquered a peace. I am afraid it required a desperate struggle on the part of “dear ma” to yield the point, and I could only guess at the consideration which induced her to come down from the “high horse.” But she wasstiff and magnificent at first. She did not seem to enjoy the affair, and looked upon me as an ogre who had defeated all her cherished plans.Miss Bertha came, and so did Tom; and early in the evening I was not a little surprised to hear the piano giving out the solemn notes of Peterboro and Hebron, sung by a large portion of the company. The instrument was pronounced excellent. Bertha sang like a nightingale, and I am not sure that the piano did not cement a regard which ultimately transformed the fair pianist into Mrs. Tom Flynn.Everything went well, and at eleven o’clock Smith’s supper was uncovered. When I saw the stores with which the table was loaded, I was afraid that the expense would spoil the face of a hundred dollar bill. A little later, when champagne, Madeira and sherry were produced, I was somewhat troubled. Reading the dates on the bottles, I was absolutely alarmed.“I did not think you intended to have wine, Lilian,” I remarked, rather seriously.“Not have wine!” exclaimed she, after she had imbibed a glass of champagne. “Why, it would be no party at all without wine. I told Smith to bring the best, and plenty of it.”He had evidently done so, and I groaned in spirit.“Tom Flynn don’t drink wine,” I added.“Let him drink coffee, then. We can suit his taste.”“He thinks it is wicked to furnish wine.”“Well, he can have the full benefit of his opinion,” laughed Lilian, whose tongue flew merrily under the stimulus of the wine she had drank.Mrs. Oliphant took champagne, and warmed up under its influence. She became quite sociable, and even forgiving. I was very glad to see that Miss Bertha, for some reason best known to herself, did not partake of the generous beverage. I am not sure that it was not the prospect of disposing of another of her incumbrances quite as much as the influence of the champagne which melted Mrs. Oliphant. Certainly Miss Bertha’s chances were very flattering. Psalmody seemed to have done its perfect work.Tom looked very serious when the wine began to flow in rivers of profusion. He did not like it, and he seemed to be out of his element. While most of the party were eating and drinking in the hall, dining and sitting-rooms, I heard the voices of Bertha and Tom mingling with the notes of the piano in a sacred song. They were alone in the parlor, preferring to be away from the noisy revel over the wine cup.The House Warming.Page 204.Smith’s stores of champagne and Madeira seemed to be inexhaustible, and when the clock struck one, some of the party, not excluding a few of the ladies, were in an exceedingly happy frame of mind. Then a dance was proposed, and Tom and Bertha were driven from the parlor. A gentleman played and called the changes. My good friend was actually scandalized by the orgies of the revellers. He never danced; he did not believe in it. Bertha appeared to sympathize with him, though this was not in accordance with her antecedents.Wine was brought up to the parlor, and the dance went on, though some of my guests were slightly unsteady in their movements. I was shocked to see how wild Lilian was, and I mentally decided that no wine should ever be brought into my house again, for the occasion was now nothing but a revel. Some of the older of the party proposed to go home, and Tom joined them. Miss Bertha was attended to her house by him. When everybody was worn out, the party broke up, and all went away. Lilian dropped into her bed exhausted, and in a measure stupefied. As thehostess, she had been compelled to imbibe oftener than she desired, and really I was grieved to see her in this condition. After all was still, I went through the rooms to see that the windows were secure and the lights put out. I was shocked when I saw what damage had been done to the furniture. The carpets were stained with wine, ice cream and cake; the new piano was scratched and discolored, and the cloth greased. Besides the cost of this house-warming, whatever it might be, the damages could not be less than three hundred dollars.At daylight I went to bed, sick at heart. I doubted whether the hundred and fifty dollars in my pocket would pay the bills, and I was miserable. I was in debt at least twenty-five hundred dollars. Lilian slept heavily after the night’s debauch. But I could not sleep. What if the bank should discover what I had done? What would the world say the next day, when the particulars of my party were known? for I was satisfied they could not be concealed.At seven o’clock I got up, my head aching fearfully, for I had not wholly spared the champagne. I was positively miserable. I intended to visit Springhaven that day, and secure the loanfrom Aunt Rachel. It was not safe to let the matter stand any longer. I went to the bank, and with a throbbing brow attended to my duties. Tom looked very serious, but he did not say any thing to me. Probably he thought I was going to ruin rapidly, not because I had appropriated the funds of the bank, but because I furnished wine to my guests.The news of my party had not yet been circulated, and I was spared any allusion to it. When I went home I found Lilian had not risen from her bed. She was quite sick. Biddy had done what she could to restore the house to its wonted order, but it was still in confusion. I could not go to Springhaven that day. By Monday morning Lilian was able to get up, and was herself again. She was even willing to acknowledge that such parties “do not pay.” I am sure I enjoyed our little Sunday evening gatherings, when Tom and Bertha sang sacred music, much better.When I went to the bank on Monday, I found Smith’s bill enclosed in an envelope. I was afraid to open it at first, but when I did so my worst fears were more than confirmed. The total was three hundred and fifty dollars, of which two-thirds was for champagne, Madeira and sherry. Iwas appalled and terrified. It must be promptly paid, or Smith would be dunning me. I was short two hundred dollars.I read the bill a second time, and I was absolutely in despair. My month’s salary, when paid, would not make up the deficiency; and I had all my house bills to provide for, which would take up the whole sum. I was running blindly before the wind to destruction. My extravagance would ruin me in a short time. But it was no use to cry. I was in the scrape, and I must get out of it.My hopeful tendencies came to my aid. With careful economy I could soon pay my debts. A bright idea flashed through my excited brain. Would it not be just as easy to induce Aunt Rachel to lend me two thousand dollars as fifteen hundred? It was a brilliant thought, in my estimation. Five hundred dollars could make no difference to her, if the interest was punctually paid. It was a plain case. If the old lady did not promptly meet my views, I could frighten her into acquiescence. All right! The two thousand was sure enough.I did not think I should be able to go to Springhaven before Saturday, and I did not careto receive a dunning visit from Smith. I might as well “be hung for an old sheep as a lamb.” I could borrow five hundred more from the bank, with no greater risk than I had already incurred—and I did so! My cash was then two thousand short; but before another week had passed, I should get the money from Aunt Rachel, and make good the deficit.I called upon Smith, and paid the bill. I did not venture to suggest that it was more than I had expected it would be. With so much money in my pocket I felt rich again, and did not bother my head to consider how I had obtained it. I went home in better spirits than for a week. I talked pleasantly and magnificently to Lilian. I had even forgotten my good resolution to practise a rigid economy, for with three hundred dollars in cash in my pocket, it no longer seemed necessary.Lilian, too, was in excellent spirits. She was very affectionate, and when I sat down on the sofa after supper, she seated herself beside me, and told me how happy she was in her new home, and how glad she was that I had compelled her to move into it. With my head upon her shoulder and her arm around my neck she told mehow kind and indulgent, how tender and affectionate I had always been, and then—added that she had not had a new dress since we were married! Mrs. Gordon Grahame had just come out in a splendid black silk; Lilian had never had a black silk, and she wanted one just like it.“How much will it cost, Lilian?” I asked, rather startled by this ultra-affectionate turn in the conversation.“You won’t be angry with me, Paley—will you?”“Of course I won’t be angry with you, Lilian,” I laughed.“But I have been very economical with clothes.”“I know you have, my dear; and I haven’t a word of fault to find. I only asked how much the black silk would cost.”“I can’t tell exactly what it will cost,” she answered, biting her finger nails, as though she feared even to express an opinion.“Will it cost fifty dollars?” I asked, thinking I was placing it high.“Fifty dollars! Why, what an ignoramus you are, Paley!” tinkled she, in the most silvery of tones. “You don’t think I can buy a black silk such as a lady would wear for fifty dollars, do you?”“Well, I don’t know any thing about it,” I replied, abashed at my own ignorance. “Will a hundred do it?”“Hardly. I can’t tell precisely what it will cost, but I think Mrs. Gordon Grahame’s did not cost less than a hundred and twenty. Don’t be angry with me, Paley. Don’t look so cold!”“I am neither angry nor cold, dearest,” I answered, pulling out my portmonnaie, and taking therefrom one hundred and fifty dollars, which I handed to her.It was the half I had left of what I had stolen that day—for, in the light of after days, I may as well call the act by its true name. I could not bear to have her accuse me of being angry, or of being cold, or of grudging her any thing I had, or any thing I could get.“O, thank you, Paley! How generous you are!” she exclaimed, giving me a rapturous kiss.She was satisfied, and so was I. We talked and read and played backgammon till ten o’clock.“Paley, won’t you take a glass of wine?” she asked. “We had some left the other night.”“I don’t care, Lilian. Did I tell you how much that party cost?”“No.”I told her.“I think that was quite reasonable, considering what we had. The champagne was splendid, and the Madeira had been to India three times—so Smith said.”She brought a bottle of sherry. It was old and strong. I was rather startled to see her take two glasses within a few minutes of each other, and I wished there was no wine in the house. We went to bed happy, and no thought of the future disturbed me.The following Saturday was the last day of the month, and I was detained at the bank so late that I could not go to Springhaven. I did not like to leave while others remained, for I did not know but Mr. Bristlebach might take it into his head to overhaul my cash again. The next Monday I learned that Aunt Rachel was very sick, had been attacked with paralysis. I went down to see her that night. She was almost senseless, and I could not talk with her. But she might die in a few days, and then her money would all be mine—I hoped; for it did not yet appear that she had made a will.Two or three days later, my uncle, Captain Halliard, came into the bank just as we were closing. He looked particularly grim and savage.“Paley, your aunt is very sick,” said he.“I know she is, but I hope she will get better,” I replied, perhaps stretching the truth no more than many people do under such circumstances.“I am attending to her affairs, as usual.”I bowed, and wondered what was coming.“I found among her papers a note for a thousand dollars, signed by you,” he added, taking the document from his pocket.My heart came up into my throat. What was he driving at?“If you can afford to give parties and fill your guests with champagne, you can afford to pay this note,” he continued, sternly.My plan was set at naught.
THE HOUSE-WARMING.
THE next day the piano and theétagèrecame, and were duly disposed of in our pretty parlor. I could not help agreeing with Lilian that both of them were absolutely necessary to the proper appointment of the room. After she had covered theétagèrewith a variety of articles, most of which had to be purchased for the purpose, the effect was pleasing.
The piano filled a waiting space; and really there seemed to be nothing more to wish for in this world. Lilian played a few tunes on the newinstrument, and my home seemed to be invested with a new charm. Beyond the party, I looked forward to pleasant hours when our friends should gather in this room on Sunday evening to sing sacred music, for which Tom Flynn had a decided partiality.
On Friday morning I went to the bank as usual. When I returned, Smith had taken possession of the house, and was making his arrangements for the grand occasion in the evening. I am bound to say that he made but little fuss for so great an affair. When the evening came, a colored gentleman in white cotton gloves was stationed at the door, and more waiters were disposed of in other parts of the house. People came—every body Lilian had invited, except those she wanted most, viz: my wealthy friend from Beacon Street, with his family. They did not come, and I had not supposed they would.
Mrs. Oliphant came, and certainly this was a triumph. Lilian felt that she had outgeneralled her mother, and conquered a peace. I am afraid it required a desperate struggle on the part of “dear ma” to yield the point, and I could only guess at the consideration which induced her to come down from the “high horse.” But she wasstiff and magnificent at first. She did not seem to enjoy the affair, and looked upon me as an ogre who had defeated all her cherished plans.
Miss Bertha came, and so did Tom; and early in the evening I was not a little surprised to hear the piano giving out the solemn notes of Peterboro and Hebron, sung by a large portion of the company. The instrument was pronounced excellent. Bertha sang like a nightingale, and I am not sure that the piano did not cement a regard which ultimately transformed the fair pianist into Mrs. Tom Flynn.
Everything went well, and at eleven o’clock Smith’s supper was uncovered. When I saw the stores with which the table was loaded, I was afraid that the expense would spoil the face of a hundred dollar bill. A little later, when champagne, Madeira and sherry were produced, I was somewhat troubled. Reading the dates on the bottles, I was absolutely alarmed.
“I did not think you intended to have wine, Lilian,” I remarked, rather seriously.
“Not have wine!” exclaimed she, after she had imbibed a glass of champagne. “Why, it would be no party at all without wine. I told Smith to bring the best, and plenty of it.”
He had evidently done so, and I groaned in spirit.
“Tom Flynn don’t drink wine,” I added.
“Let him drink coffee, then. We can suit his taste.”
“He thinks it is wicked to furnish wine.”
“Well, he can have the full benefit of his opinion,” laughed Lilian, whose tongue flew merrily under the stimulus of the wine she had drank.
Mrs. Oliphant took champagne, and warmed up under its influence. She became quite sociable, and even forgiving. I was very glad to see that Miss Bertha, for some reason best known to herself, did not partake of the generous beverage. I am not sure that it was not the prospect of disposing of another of her incumbrances quite as much as the influence of the champagne which melted Mrs. Oliphant. Certainly Miss Bertha’s chances were very flattering. Psalmody seemed to have done its perfect work.
Tom looked very serious when the wine began to flow in rivers of profusion. He did not like it, and he seemed to be out of his element. While most of the party were eating and drinking in the hall, dining and sitting-rooms, I heard the voices of Bertha and Tom mingling with the notes of the piano in a sacred song. They were alone in the parlor, preferring to be away from the noisy revel over the wine cup.
The House Warming.Page 204.
The House Warming.Page 204.
The House Warming.Page 204.
Smith’s stores of champagne and Madeira seemed to be inexhaustible, and when the clock struck one, some of the party, not excluding a few of the ladies, were in an exceedingly happy frame of mind. Then a dance was proposed, and Tom and Bertha were driven from the parlor. A gentleman played and called the changes. My good friend was actually scandalized by the orgies of the revellers. He never danced; he did not believe in it. Bertha appeared to sympathize with him, though this was not in accordance with her antecedents.
Wine was brought up to the parlor, and the dance went on, though some of my guests were slightly unsteady in their movements. I was shocked to see how wild Lilian was, and I mentally decided that no wine should ever be brought into my house again, for the occasion was now nothing but a revel. Some of the older of the party proposed to go home, and Tom joined them. Miss Bertha was attended to her house by him. When everybody was worn out, the party broke up, and all went away. Lilian dropped into her bed exhausted, and in a measure stupefied. As thehostess, she had been compelled to imbibe oftener than she desired, and really I was grieved to see her in this condition. After all was still, I went through the rooms to see that the windows were secure and the lights put out. I was shocked when I saw what damage had been done to the furniture. The carpets were stained with wine, ice cream and cake; the new piano was scratched and discolored, and the cloth greased. Besides the cost of this house-warming, whatever it might be, the damages could not be less than three hundred dollars.
At daylight I went to bed, sick at heart. I doubted whether the hundred and fifty dollars in my pocket would pay the bills, and I was miserable. I was in debt at least twenty-five hundred dollars. Lilian slept heavily after the night’s debauch. But I could not sleep. What if the bank should discover what I had done? What would the world say the next day, when the particulars of my party were known? for I was satisfied they could not be concealed.
At seven o’clock I got up, my head aching fearfully, for I had not wholly spared the champagne. I was positively miserable. I intended to visit Springhaven that day, and secure the loanfrom Aunt Rachel. It was not safe to let the matter stand any longer. I went to the bank, and with a throbbing brow attended to my duties. Tom looked very serious, but he did not say any thing to me. Probably he thought I was going to ruin rapidly, not because I had appropriated the funds of the bank, but because I furnished wine to my guests.
The news of my party had not yet been circulated, and I was spared any allusion to it. When I went home I found Lilian had not risen from her bed. She was quite sick. Biddy had done what she could to restore the house to its wonted order, but it was still in confusion. I could not go to Springhaven that day. By Monday morning Lilian was able to get up, and was herself again. She was even willing to acknowledge that such parties “do not pay.” I am sure I enjoyed our little Sunday evening gatherings, when Tom and Bertha sang sacred music, much better.
When I went to the bank on Monday, I found Smith’s bill enclosed in an envelope. I was afraid to open it at first, but when I did so my worst fears were more than confirmed. The total was three hundred and fifty dollars, of which two-thirds was for champagne, Madeira and sherry. Iwas appalled and terrified. It must be promptly paid, or Smith would be dunning me. I was short two hundred dollars.
I read the bill a second time, and I was absolutely in despair. My month’s salary, when paid, would not make up the deficiency; and I had all my house bills to provide for, which would take up the whole sum. I was running blindly before the wind to destruction. My extravagance would ruin me in a short time. But it was no use to cry. I was in the scrape, and I must get out of it.
My hopeful tendencies came to my aid. With careful economy I could soon pay my debts. A bright idea flashed through my excited brain. Would it not be just as easy to induce Aunt Rachel to lend me two thousand dollars as fifteen hundred? It was a brilliant thought, in my estimation. Five hundred dollars could make no difference to her, if the interest was punctually paid. It was a plain case. If the old lady did not promptly meet my views, I could frighten her into acquiescence. All right! The two thousand was sure enough.
I did not think I should be able to go to Springhaven before Saturday, and I did not careto receive a dunning visit from Smith. I might as well “be hung for an old sheep as a lamb.” I could borrow five hundred more from the bank, with no greater risk than I had already incurred—and I did so! My cash was then two thousand short; but before another week had passed, I should get the money from Aunt Rachel, and make good the deficit.
I called upon Smith, and paid the bill. I did not venture to suggest that it was more than I had expected it would be. With so much money in my pocket I felt rich again, and did not bother my head to consider how I had obtained it. I went home in better spirits than for a week. I talked pleasantly and magnificently to Lilian. I had even forgotten my good resolution to practise a rigid economy, for with three hundred dollars in cash in my pocket, it no longer seemed necessary.
Lilian, too, was in excellent spirits. She was very affectionate, and when I sat down on the sofa after supper, she seated herself beside me, and told me how happy she was in her new home, and how glad she was that I had compelled her to move into it. With my head upon her shoulder and her arm around my neck she told mehow kind and indulgent, how tender and affectionate I had always been, and then—added that she had not had a new dress since we were married! Mrs. Gordon Grahame had just come out in a splendid black silk; Lilian had never had a black silk, and she wanted one just like it.
“How much will it cost, Lilian?” I asked, rather startled by this ultra-affectionate turn in the conversation.
“You won’t be angry with me, Paley—will you?”
“Of course I won’t be angry with you, Lilian,” I laughed.
“But I have been very economical with clothes.”
“I know you have, my dear; and I haven’t a word of fault to find. I only asked how much the black silk would cost.”
“I can’t tell exactly what it will cost,” she answered, biting her finger nails, as though she feared even to express an opinion.
“Will it cost fifty dollars?” I asked, thinking I was placing it high.
“Fifty dollars! Why, what an ignoramus you are, Paley!” tinkled she, in the most silvery of tones. “You don’t think I can buy a black silk such as a lady would wear for fifty dollars, do you?”
“Well, I don’t know any thing about it,” I replied, abashed at my own ignorance. “Will a hundred do it?”
“Hardly. I can’t tell precisely what it will cost, but I think Mrs. Gordon Grahame’s did not cost less than a hundred and twenty. Don’t be angry with me, Paley. Don’t look so cold!”
“I am neither angry nor cold, dearest,” I answered, pulling out my portmonnaie, and taking therefrom one hundred and fifty dollars, which I handed to her.
It was the half I had left of what I had stolen that day—for, in the light of after days, I may as well call the act by its true name. I could not bear to have her accuse me of being angry, or of being cold, or of grudging her any thing I had, or any thing I could get.
“O, thank you, Paley! How generous you are!” she exclaimed, giving me a rapturous kiss.
She was satisfied, and so was I. We talked and read and played backgammon till ten o’clock.
“Paley, won’t you take a glass of wine?” she asked. “We had some left the other night.”
“I don’t care, Lilian. Did I tell you how much that party cost?”
“No.”
I told her.
“I think that was quite reasonable, considering what we had. The champagne was splendid, and the Madeira had been to India three times—so Smith said.”
She brought a bottle of sherry. It was old and strong. I was rather startled to see her take two glasses within a few minutes of each other, and I wished there was no wine in the house. We went to bed happy, and no thought of the future disturbed me.
The following Saturday was the last day of the month, and I was detained at the bank so late that I could not go to Springhaven. I did not like to leave while others remained, for I did not know but Mr. Bristlebach might take it into his head to overhaul my cash again. The next Monday I learned that Aunt Rachel was very sick, had been attacked with paralysis. I went down to see her that night. She was almost senseless, and I could not talk with her. But she might die in a few days, and then her money would all be mine—I hoped; for it did not yet appear that she had made a will.
Two or three days later, my uncle, Captain Halliard, came into the bank just as we were closing. He looked particularly grim and savage.
“Paley, your aunt is very sick,” said he.
“I know she is, but I hope she will get better,” I replied, perhaps stretching the truth no more than many people do under such circumstances.
“I am attending to her affairs, as usual.”
I bowed, and wondered what was coming.
“I found among her papers a note for a thousand dollars, signed by you,” he added, taking the document from his pocket.
My heart came up into my throat. What was he driving at?
“If you can afford to give parties and fill your guests with champagne, you can afford to pay this note,” he continued, sternly.
My plan was set at naught.