Читать книгу Who Would Have Thought It? - María Ruiz de Burton - Страница 13

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THE Norval family had floated on a delightful stream of prosperity for nearly three years, when the eventful 1861 dawned upon the land in all its gloom of political clouds.

Few men as yet believed that there would be a war; and one of these few was Dr. Norval.

"Sinclair writes me he is going to send his wife and daughter to Europe for a year or so, until things get clearer in this country," said the doctor, one morning, at the breakfast-table. "Don't you think this is a good opportunity for the girls to go too? Mrs. Sinclair says she will be very glad to take charge of them, if you don't go."

"I!" exclaimed Mrs. Norval, letting her buckwheat-cakes drop from the fork.

Mattie made a rush at her father, and kissed him fervently, saying, between her kisses,

"You are the darlingest old papa anybody ever had!---you are, you are!"

"Sit still, Mattie. What a rough, unladylike girl you are!" said Mrs. Norval, sternly. "I am very much obliged to Mrs. Sinclair; but I have no wish to send my girls to foreign countries, when we have a better one of our own,-a great deal better one."

Oh, mamma!" ejaculated the apathetic Ruth, with a flush on her usually calm face, "it ain't possible you'll let us lose such a splendid chance to go to Europe?"

"Doctor, I am very sorry you mentioned this thing here. Why didn't you tell it to me alone? Now I shall have no peace, I know."

"I didn't tell it to you alone, because I knew you would be horrified at the idea of it: so I thought I would let the girls know that they can go if they wish, and you can settle the matter among yourselves," said the doctor, rising and taking his newspaper, to peruse it by the fire.

"Oh, what a man! what a man! He makes it his study to do, and say, and suggest always what he knows will make me wretched."

"Bah!" said Mattie. "Everybody knows that papa is the best husband and the best father in these United States."

"Hold your tongue, miss! You are intolerably saucy, and your father encourages you."

Ruth gave Mattie a very expressive look, which Mattie evidently understood. Ruth was a diplomat by instinct. She liked to manage her mother, because she was the power of the family. Besides, she had made up her mind to have a trip to Europe. Not that she cared to see Europe for its historical or classic associations or treasures of art: she wanted to go to Europe because in her two trips to New York she had discovered that it was genteel to talk of having been in Europe, and that you were not considered "tip-top" exactly until you spoke of Paris and the Coliseum, and going up the Thames and down the Rhine, and up and down the Danube, and being presented to crowned heads.

Nothing more was said then, but as she got into bed, Ruth told Mattie that night,"Consider yourself bowing to Queen Victoria," and then turned over to sleep.

Lola was decidedly too black and too young for Julian Norval to take a fancy to her; whilst she, the poor, lonely little soul, idolized Julian, and in her heart she couldn't compare the handsome boy to anything but an archangel.

Lola's black skin and youth were not the principal reasons of Julian's indifference. The principal reason was Emma Hackwell, the Rev. Hackwell's sister, a young lady of five-and-twenty, who had lately come to make her home with her brother. With this young lady,—she being five years older than himself,—of course, Julian fell desperately in love. He would have run away with Emma and married her the first week of their acquaintance if that young lady had felt inclined to marry a boy seventeen years old,—very handsome, it is true, but whose impetuosity was to Emma alarming, being to her way of thinking unnatural in a good New Englander, and not to be trusted by a sensible. Yankee girl. She would not even engage herself to him; not until he was twenty-one years old, when he would be better able to know his own mind. Julian wrote wild love-ditties and desperate Byronic son nets, and, for two sessions and one vacation, he threatened to kill himself. But on the second vacation-Julian being near twenty-his ardor began to calm down somewhat. Emma was too calculating and matter-of-fact to keep his poetical glow alive. He began to foresee the day when he would write to her altogether in prose, and, maybe, begin his letters with "Dear friend," or "Dear Miss Hackwell," and not have to sign himself, "Your ever-loving Julian."

But in proportion as Julian's love began to diminish, Emma's began to increase, or rather to become alarmed at his coldness. She wrote to him asking what was the cause of that change. He denied his having changed, only he was very busy with his studies, as he would graduate that spring. Moreover, he said, people spoke about the probability of a war; and as, if there was to be a war, he would be a soldier, he thought it was well that they were not engaged, though, "of course, he felt for her as he always would, etc. etc. etc."

Emma was frightened. She consulted her brother. He asked her to show him Julian's letter. After reading it he threw it on Emma's lap, saying, with ill-suppressed anger,

"Serves you right! I told you to make sure of the boy in some way or other; but no, you must go and, like a fool, let him off. He is not engaged, and he'll go off and take a fancy to some one else. You'll never have such another chance, I can tell you." And his reverence walked off in great indignation.

Poor Emma! It was bad enough to be forgotten by her lover, without being scolded for it. But, though Mr. Hackwell scolded, he did not lose hope. Indeed he was not the man to let such a brilliant match for his sister slip without clutching at it with eager fingers. What would be the use of his great favor with the stately matron Mrs. Norval, who now always consulted Mr. Hackwell in every important occurrence in her family wherein she wished for any one's advice? Thus they had many tête-à-têtes, which Mr. Hackwell meant to turn to account.

Just about the time when Emma received Julian's letter, the question of the proposed trip of Ruth and Mattie to Europe came up.

Nothing could have suited Mr. Hackwell's plans better. He advocated it, and, a few days after, Mrs. Norval gave her consent.

The girls will be out of the way," said Mr. Hackwell to himself as he walked home from Mrs. Norval's. "And that is something. I wish Emma had not been so stupid! As if a boy is to love a red-headed, uninteresting woman after he gets to be a man! Absurd! Of course he'll bolt. But the girls will be off in two weeks, and then we'll see what can be done to mend Emma's affair."

Ruth felt no more now the pangs of other days, when she had lain awake at night thinking how she could fix up her old dresses to make them look like new; when she used to go to church to watch with enraptured gaze the lovely bonnets of Julia Dix, while Mr. Hammerhard delivered his demolishing sermons.

Now the Misses Norval—and even poor Lavvy-had been for three years the leaders of fashion.

In their handsome carriage, dressed in costly silks, the Misses Norval drove around to all their friends' houses to bid them good-by. In old times Ruth and Mattie used to walk all over the village almost daily in the summer, and in the winter would walk to a hill two miles off to slide down-hill on sledges with the Cackle boys and girls, and they did not mind the violence of that exercise. Now they seldom walked. Since their new elegance, Ruth had found out that the reason why Spanish ladies have small feet and delicate ankles is because they walk so very little. Ruth's foot was large, and her ankle solid, with welldeveloped sinews, like Mrs. Norval's; still, she hoped at least to make her feet softer, less rebellious to going into small shoes.

On the morrow the Misses Norval would make their farewell appearance in church, and the day after would start for New York.