Jewel: A Chapter in Her Life. Clara Louise Burnham

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СКАЧАТЬ the first time the girl lost her perfect poise, and the color fluctuated in her cheek. She clasped her hands. “It would be heaven compared with the feeling, the sickening, appalling suspicion, that we are becoming akin to the adventuresses we read of, the pretty, luxurious women who live by their wits.”

      “Silence!” commanded Mrs. Evringham, her eyes flashing and her effective black-clothed figure drawn up.

      Eloise sighed again. “I didn't expect to accomplish anything by this talk,” she said, relapsing into listlessness.

      “What did you expect then? Merely to be disagreeable? I hope you may be as successful in worthier undertakings. Now listen. Some of the plans you have suggested at various times might be sensible if you were a plain girl. Your beauty is as tangible an asset as money would be; but beauty requires money. You must have it. Your poor father might have left it to you, but he didn't; so you will marry it—not unsuitably,” meeting an ominous look in her child's eyes, “not without love or under any circumstances to make a martyr of you, but according to common sense; and as a certain young man is evidently more and more certain of himself every time he comes”—she paused.

      “You think there is no need for him to grow more certain of me?” asked Eloise.

      “You might have saved us the disagreeables of this interview. And one thing more,” impressively, “you evidently are not taking into consideration, perhaps you never knew, that it was your grandfather's confidence in a certain course which induced your poor father to take that last fatal flyer. Your grandfather feels—I'm sure he feels—that much reparation is due us. The present conditions are easier for him than a separate suitable home would be, therefore”—Mrs. Evringham waved her hand. “It is strange,” she added, “that so young a girl should not repose more trust in her mother's judgment. And now that we are on the subject, I wish you would make more effort with your grandfather. Don't be so silent at table and leave all the talking to me. A man of his age likes to have merry young people about. Chat, create a cheerful atmosphere. He likes to look at you, of course, but you have been so quiet and lackadaisical of late, it is enough to hurt his feelings as host.”

      “He has never shown any symptoms of anxiety,” remarked Eloise.

      “Well, he is a very self-contained man.”

      “He is indeed, poor grandfather; I don't know how you will manage, mother, when you have to play the game of 'pretend' all alone. He is growing tired of it, I can see. His courtesy is wearing very thin. I'm sorry to make it harder for you by taking away what must have been a large prop and support, but I heard papa say to himself more than once in those last sad days, 'If I had only taken my father's advice.'”

      “Eloise,” very earnestly, “you misunderstood, you certainly misunderstood.”

      The girl shook her head wearily. “No, alas! I neither misunderstand nor forget, when it would be most convenient to do so.”

      Mrs. Evringham's fair brow contracted as she regarded her daughter with exasperation. “And you are only nineteen! One would think it was you instead of me to whom the next birthday would bring that detested forty.”

      The girl looked at her mother, whose youthful face and figure betrayed the source of her own heritage of physical charm.

      “I long ago gave up the hope of ever again being as young as you are,” she returned sadly. “Oh!” with a rare and piteous burst of feeling, “if dear papa could have stayed with us, and we could have had a right somewhere!”

      Mrs. Evringham threw her arms about the young creature, welcoming the softened mood. “You know I took you right to my own people, Eloise,” she said gently. “We stayed as long as I thought was right; they couldn't afford to keep us.” A sound at the door caused her to turn. The erect form of her father-in-law had just entered the room.

      “Ah, good evening, father,” she said in tones whose sadness was not altogether feigned, even though she secretly rejoiced that Eloise should for once show such opportune emotion. “Pardon this little girl. She was just feeling overwhelmed with a pang of homesickness for her father.”

      “Indeed!” returned Mr. Evringham. “Will you walk out? Mrs. Forbes tells me that dinner is served.”

      Eloise, hastily drawing her handkerchief across her eyes, passed the unbending figure, her cheeks stinging. His hard voice was in her ears.

      That she was not his son's child hurt her now as often before in the past two months, but that he should have discovered her weeping at a moment when he might have been expected to enter was a keen hurt to her pride, and her heart swelled with a suspicion of his unspoken thoughts. She had never been effusive, she had never posed. He had no right to suspect her.

      With her small head carried high and her cheeks glowing, she passed him, following her mother, who floated on before with much satisfaction. These opportune tears shed by her nonconforming child should make their stay good for another two months at least.

      “You must have had a beautiful ride, father,” said Mrs. Evringham as they seated themselves at table. She spoke in the tone, at once assured and ingratiating, which she always adopted toward him. “I noticed you took an earlier start than usual.”

      The speaker had never had the insight to discover that her father-in-law was ungrateful for proofs that any of his long-fixed, solitary habits were now observed by feminine eyes.

      “I did take a rather longer ride than usual,” he returned. “Mrs. Forbes, I wish you would speak to the cook about the soup. It has been served cool for the last two days.”

      Mrs. Forbes flushed as she stood near his chair in her trim black gown and white apron.

      “Yes, sir,” she replied, the flush and quiet words giving little indication of the tumult aroused within her by her employer's criticism. To fail to please Mr. Evringham at his meals was the deepest mortification life held for her.

      “I'm sure it tastes very good,” said Mrs. Evringham amiably, “although I like a little more salt than your cook uses.”

      “You can reach it I hope,” remarked the host, casting a glance at the dainty solitaire salt and pepper beside his daughter's plate.

      “But don't you like it cooked in?” she asked sweetly.

      “Not when I want to get it out,” he answered shortly.

      “How can mother, how can mother!” thought Eloise helplessly.

      “There is decided spring in the air to-day,” said Mrs. Evringham. “I remember of old how charmingly spring comes in the park.”

      “You have a good memory,” returned Mr. Evringham dryly.

      “Why do you say that?” asked the pretty widow, lifting large, innocent eyes.

      “It is some years since you accompanied Lawrence in his calls upon me, I believe.”

      “Poor father!” thought Mrs. Evringham, “how unpleasantly blunt he has grown, living here alone!”

      “I scarcely realize it,” she returned suavely. “My recollection of the park is always so clear. It is surprising, isn't it, how relatives can live as near together as we in New York and you out here and see one another so seldom! Life in New York,” sighing, “was СКАЧАТЬ