Читать книгу Mildred Keith - Complete 7 Book Collection - Finley Martha - Страница 47

Table of Contents

"Self is the medium least refined of all,

Through which Opinion's searching beam can fall;

And passing there, the clearest, steadiest ray,

Will tinge its light, and turn its line astray."

—Moore.

It was at the breakfast table the next morning that Mildred had her first sight of the new comers.

They were late in making their appearance, excusing themselves on the ground of fatigue from the journey of the previous day.

Juliet, the elder of the two, was an extremely sentimental young lady; tall and thin, with fair complexion, pale auburn hair, and faded blue eyes.

The other, Reba, a noisy, rattling, romping, pert young Miss, with staring black eyes, black hair, straight and coarse, and a muddy skin, which she strove with very limited success to conceal with toilet powder and rouge.

She prided herself on being a fast girl, a good shot with a pistol, and not afraid to mount the wildest horse that could be found.

Her talk was of horses and dogs, race courses and shooting matches; her sister's of beaux, parties and dress.

Juliet had a great deal to say about her summer at Saratoga, and the gentlemen she had met there, especially a certain titled foreigner, whom she spoke of as "that charming, fascinating Count De Lisle."

It came out in the course of the morning, that she had heard from him since her return home in the fall, and would not be surprised if he should follow her to Roselands.

"Pa won't like it if he does," remarked Reba. "He thinks he's a fortune-hunter, with nothing to recommend him but his title, and that very likely it is all a pretence. And I am inclined to think pa is right, and that the fellow is not even a foreigner."

"As if your opinion was of the least consequence!" sneered her sister. "I consider both you and pa extremely uncharitable to indulge in such suspicions. I have seen a good deal more of the Count than either of you, and he is a delightful man."

"Well, don't waste your time disputing, girls," interrupted Mrs. Dinsmore, "you have yet to decide what you will wear to-night."

They were in the dressing-room appropriated to the sisters during their stay; Mildred was with them, Mrs. Dinsmore having invited her in, that they might have the benefit of her taste.

A quantity of finery was spread out upon the bed, table, and chairs, and presently the four were deep in consultation on the all important subject.

Mildred was gifted with artistic taste in dress, and great facility in giving form and shape to her conceptions, by the use of scissors and needle. She was also very obliging, and having fallen to-day into the hands of those who were selfishly unscrupulous about imposing upon good nature, she was given little rest until the two girls were fully attired for the ball.

They surveyed themselves with delight; and indeed both looked remarkably well for them; Juliet in white gauze over pale blue silk, and a few white blossoms from the green-house in her hair; Reba in black silk with black lace overskirt looped with scarlet ribbons, and hair trimmed with flowers of the same brilliant hue.

She was in her wildest spirits, dancing, and pirouetting round the room, declaring that Mildred had laid her under lasting obligations, she had had no idea how handsome she was, and it would be strange if she didn't make a conquest before the evening was over; Juliet hearing it all with a half contemptuous smile, while contemplating the reflection of her own charms in the glass, with the self-satisfied thought that they far exceeded those of her sister.

"You are entirely welcome," said Mildred, "and I am very glad you are satisfied with the result of my labors. Now I must go to Aunt Belle, for I promised to put the finishing touches to her toilet."

"We'll go too, and show ourselves," said Reba, and all three tripped gayly down the stairs, into Mrs. Dinsmore's dressing-room.

They found her resplendent in silk, lace and diamonds. The costly gems depended from her ears, sparkled on her wrists, at her throat, on every link of her watch chain; and Mildred's task was to place a spray of them in her hair, already elaborately dressed by her waiting maid.

"Oh, you are splendid, Aunt Belle!" cried Reba, clapping her hands. "I declare I believe you look younger and prettier than either of us."

"Don't turn flatterer, child," said Mrs Dinsmore, coloring with pleasure at the compliment, and giving her mirror a glance of unmistakable satisfaction.

"Oh, you needn't pretend you don't know it," laughed Reba. "But now look at us and say if you're not proud of your nieces."

"Yes indeed," Mrs. Dinsmore said after a moment's critical survey, "you are charming girls, both of you. Mildred, I think you deserve any amount of credit."

"Eh! what has she been about?" Mr. Dinsmore asked, coming in from an adjoining room; "superintending the toilet of these girls? Why she is certainly a young lady of taste, and a useful member of society."

"Decidedly prettier in her neat home dress than they in all their finery," he added mentally. Then aloud, "Come, Milly, don't you begin to want to go along? It isn't too late yet to change your mind. We'll wait for you to dress."

"Thank you," she answered brightly, "but I have not changed my mind, and really feel quite sure that I shall enjoy myself better at home."

"Such odd taste," laughed Reba.

"But perhaps she does not expect to pass the time alone," drawled Juliet with a significant look.

Mildred repelled the insinuation with dignity. "I expect no company but my books," she said, "and certainly desire no other."

She was entirely sincere, yet it did seem a little lonely as she sat by the fire in her own room after they had gone.

But she turned resolutely to her books, soon grew interested, and after a couple of hours spent in close study, retired to bed.

Only her uncle, Miss Worth, and the children met her at the breakfast-table the next morning.

Mr. Dinsmore explained that his wife and her nieces were sleeping off their fatigue, adding, "The girls danced all night, and really it was near sunrise when we reached home."

"They must be very tired," Mildred said. "Aunt Belle and you too, uncle."

"Yes; I think your plan was the wisest, after all. But what shall you do with yourself to-day? I fear you will be left quite to your own resources."

"I assure you I will be at no loss," she returned with a cheery smile.

The first thing in order after breakfast was a ride, in which Adelaide, Louise and Lora were her companions. A very enjoyable one, the morning being bright, clear and not very cold.

On their return, as they cantered up the avenue, Adelaide exclaimed, "There's the Ion carriage at the door. What an early call Mrs. Travilla is making!"

But it was only a servant with a note for Mildred; an urgent invitation to her to drive over to Ion and spend the day.

"I send my carriage for you," wrote Mrs. Travilla, "hoping it may not return empty. Uncle Eben is a careful driver, will bring you safely, I think, and carry you back when you feel that your visit must come to an end. I should drive over for you myself, but am confined to the house by a severe cold."

No more welcome invitation could have come to Mildred. Full of delight she hastened to her room to change her riding habit for something more suitable for the occasion. That was the work of but a few moments, and leaving a message for Mrs. Dinsmore, who had not risen, she was presently bowling briskly along the road leading to Ion.

She anticipated a delightful day and was not disappointed. It was passed principally in Mrs. Travilla's boudoir and without other companionship, and seemed to Mildred very much like a day at home with her mother; for this new friend was a woman of the same spirit, and very similar gifts and graces. And she received her young guest with truly motherly warmth and tenderness of greeting.

The talk was first of Mildred's far off home and the dear ones there, then of the better land and the dearest Friend of all that either possessed; and while conversing of Him and His wondrous love their hearts were drawn very close together.

"Mrs. Travilla," Mildred said, breaking a pause in the conversation, "there is some one I want you to help me pray for; one who wants just such a kind, loving, powerful, everpresent Friend as Jesus."

"Yes, my child, I will," Mrs. Travilla responded with feeling, "we will unite our prayers, and he will know whom we mean, though I am ignorant of it; He whose precious promise is, 'If two of you shall agree on earth as touching anything that they shall ask it shall be done of them of my Father which is in heaven.'"

"It is a precious promise," Mildred said, tears springing to her eyes. "And there are others—O, Mrs. Travilla, can you not guess whom? that I want to plead it for. Some that I love, who are very kind to me, but seem to care nothing at all about this Friend, and to have no thought or concern for anything beyond this life."

"Yes, I know," Mrs. Travilla said, pressing the girl's hand tenderly in hers, "and you may well believe that I have not known them all these years without often asking my dear Lord to reveal himself to them in all his loveliness; and now I am very, very glad to have a helper in this."

They sat silent then for some minutes, when the adornments of the room attracting Mildred's eye, reminded her of a question she had been longing to ask.

Beginning with an account of her visit to Mrs. Landreth and the talk between them, in which Mrs. Travilla seemed interested, she went on to say, with a smiling glance around the tasteful apartment, "I feel sure that you do not think as she does, and that she is not right in her views or practice either; and yet I confess I am at a loss to know how to refute her arguments. So I have wanted to ask an explanation of your views. Do you think Mrs. Landreth a really good Christian woman?"

"Yes, my dear, I do," Mrs. Travilla said "She is beyond question very self-denying and benevolent; but I think she forgets that we are to 'adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour in all things;' and so fails to recommend it as she might to others; particularly her husband and his nephew.

"I quite agree with your mother that it is a wife's duty to study the comfort and happiness of her husband in everything that she can without violating the plain commands of God.

"Mrs. Landreth and I take different views on the question of the best way to help the poor. She gives money, I let them earn it, paying them liberally for their work; this plan encourages industry and honest pride of independence; while the other teaches them to be willing to be idle pensioners on the bounty of their richer neighbors.

"Mine certainly seems the more self-indulgent way," she added with a smile, "for my house is thus filled with pretty things while Mrs. Landreth's is left very bare of ornament; and yet I think it is the better plan."

"I am sure it is," Mildred responded with an energy and positiveness that brought a musical laugh from the lips of her friend.

"And," resumed Mrs. Travilla, "we differ quite as decidedly on the question of dress—she considering it a duty to spend as little as possible upon herself, that she may have the more to give; I thinking that those who have the means to do so without stinting their charities, or driving hard bargains with their tradesmen, should buy beautiful and expensive things in order to help and encourage manufacturers, and render themselves and their houses attractive.

"Surely God would not have implanted in us so strong a love of the beautiful, and given so much to gratify it, if he meant us to ignore and repress it."

"No, surely not," Mildred said, thoughtfully. "Oh, how good he is! how much he has given us to enjoy! there are so many beautiful sights and sounds in nature, so much to gratify the taste and smell—the perfume from your plants comes most pleasantly to my nostrils at this moment, and the sweet song of that mocking bird to my ear. And I do so love old ocean's roar and the rippling of running water. Does it not seem like a slander upon the God of love, to teach that he would have us spend all our time, effort and means on those things that are utilitarian only?"

"It certainly does; and yet are not some of these things which some condemn as mere indulgences, really useful, after all? the surroundings affect the spirits, and they in turn the health, and therefore the ability to work. Grand or beautiful scenery has often an inspiring or soothing effect, and their pictured representations the same to some extent."

"And just so with a sweet and noble face," Mildred said, "and what a lovely one that is," turning her eyes toward a painting on the opposite wall.

"Yes," returned her friend, "I love to lie on my couch and gaze upon it, when not able to sit up, and it has been a comfort and help to me in many an hour of pain or sadness. Ah who shall say that an artist's work is a waste of time—when his pencil is devoted to the reproduction of the good and beautiful—or that his God-given talent is not to be improved?"

Then she drew Mildred's attention to other paintings, and pieces of fancy work, to each of which she had a story attached: generally of a struggle with poverty and want on the part of the one of whose talent and skill it was a specimen.

These tales were told in no boastful spirit, yet Mildred learned from them a valuable lesson on the best use of wealth, and how much good might be done with it, in the way of lending a helping hand to those who needed assistance or lift them out of otherwise hopeless poverty, and how it could be accomplished without sacrificing a praiseworthy pride of independence.