for a few days we lingered at my mother’s fireside, and then, with the fall of the first snowflake, we left for our southern home; richard promising my mother, who was loth to give me up, that when the summer birds came back and roses were blooming again by the door, he would bring his rose to breathe once more the air of her native hills. we stopped at new york, philadelphia, baltimore and washington, and it was not until the holidays were passed that we landed at last at charleston and took the cars for w—— which we reached about dark.
with a loud cry of joy, bill, who was waiting for us, welcomed back his master, and then almost crushing my fingers in his big black hand, said, with a sly wink, which he meant should be very expressive, “i know, now what mass’r kill dem hosses for!” at the same time making some apology for the really sorry looking animals he was compelled to drive in the place of the deceased ferdinand and frederic. as we drove through the town i could not help contrasting my present feelings with those of the year before, when i thought i was leaving it forever. then, weary, sick and wretched, i had looked through blinding tears towards sunny bank, which was now my home, while at my side, with his arm around me, was its owner—my husband.
359“you tremble, rose,” said he, as we drew near the house, and he bade me be calmer, saying the meeting between myself and his sister would soon be over.
but it was not that which i dreaded. it was the presentation to his servants, to whom i bore the formidable relation of mistress, and for whose good opinion i cared far more than i did for that of the haughty mrs. lansing. something like this i said to richard, who assured me that his household would love me because i was his wife, if for no other reason, and thus i found it to be. as we drove into the yard, we were surprised at seeing the house brilliantly lighted, while through the open windows forms of many persons were seen moving to and fro.
in a displeased tone of voice richard, said, “it is angeline’s work, and i do not like it, for you need rest, and are too much fatigued to see any one to-night, but i suppose it cannot be avoided. ho, bill,” he called to the driver, “who is here?”
“some de quality,” answered bill, adding that “miss angeline done ’vite ’em to see de bride.”
“she might at least have consulted my wishes,” said richard, while my heart sank within me at being obliged to meet strangers in my jaded condition.
mrs. lansing, it seems, had in her mind a new piano for lina, their present one being rather old-fashioned, and as the surest means of procuring one she thought to please her brother by noticing his bride. so, in her zeal, she rather overdid the matter, inviting to sunny bank many of the villagers, some of whom were friendly to me and some were not, though all, i believe, felt curious to see how the “plebeian yankee” (thus ada termed me) would demean herself as the wife a southern planter.
dusky faces, with white shining eyes, peered round the 360corner of the building as the carriage stopped before the door, and more than one whisper reached me. “dat’s she—de new miss, dat mars’r’s liftin’ so keerfully.”
upon the piazza stood mrs. lansing, her face wreathed in smiles, while at her side, in flowing white muslin, were ada and lina, the former of whom sprang gaily down the steps, and with well feigned joy threw herself into the arms of her guardian, who, after kissing her affectionately, presented her to me, saying, “will ada be a sister to my wife?”
“anything, for your sake,” answered ada, with rather more emphasis on your than was quite pleasing me.
mrs. lansing came next, and there was something of hauteur in her manner as she advanced, for much as she desired to please her brother, she was not yet fully prepared to meet me as an equal. but richard knew the avenue to her heart, and as he placed my hand in hers, he said, “for the sake of jessie you will love my bride, i am sure.”
it was enough; jessie was forgotten by many who had wept bitterly when first they heard the sad news of her death, but in the mother’s heart there was an aching void, and as if the gentle, blue-eyed child were pleading for me from her little grave, the proud woman’s eyes were moist with tears as she said, “yes, for jessie’s sake do i l——” she paused, for with that sacred name upon her lips even she could not utter a falsehood and say, “i love you,” so she qualified it, and after a moment continued, “i will learn to love you, rose, for such i know would be our angel jessie’s wish.”
from lina i expected no demonstration. she was too selfish, too listless to care for any one, so when she coolly shook my hand and called me mrs. delafield, i was quite satisfied, particularly as the next moment halbert caught me round the neck, shouting out a noisy, but genuine welcome to his 361“aunt rose,” and telling me “he was mighty glad i’d come back to stay for good.”
“you have quite a party,” said richard to his sister as we entered the spacious hall, i shrinking behind him so as to hide myself from the curious eyes which i knew were scanning my dusty travelling dress.
“only a few friends, who i thought would be glad to meet miss lee—i beg pardon—your wife,” she hastily added as she saw the gathering frown upon his brow.
with a look in his eye which made her quail, he said, “never make that mistake again, angeline.” (and she never did!) “rose is too much exhausted to appear in the parlor to-night,” he continued, as we entered my room—our room—the pleasant, tasteful apartment, which i once thought had been fitted up for ada. “you ought to have had more tact than to invite company on the first night of my arrival—when you must have known how weary rose would be. she don’t look like herself, so pale and way-worn,” he continued, himself removing my bonnet and tenderly stroking my aching head.
nothing would please ada better than to present me just as i was, pale and jaded, with dark rims beneath my eyes, induced by the severe headache from which i was really suffering. it would show her own charms to greater advantage, she thought, as she glanced at an opposite mirror and saw the contrast between us.
“oh, richard,” she said pleadingly, “pray don’t object to her going down, it wouldn’t be polite, and then they are all dying to see her.”
“why then didn’t they, some of them, improve the opportunity when she was here before, and on show every day,” said richard, moodily.
and ada, forgetting herself, answered in a low tone, 362“why, that’s plain enough, mrs. richard delafield is a very different personage from miss lee, gov”——
“ada!” sternly interposed my husband, “never a remark like that in my presence.”
“why, uncle dick,” said ada, smothering her anger and winding her white arms around his neck, “how you frighten me. i didn’t mean anything, only i do want rose to go down, so much, can’t you, dear?” and she turned towards me.
with her, i felt that it would hardly be polite to refuse, so i replied that “after a cup of tea and half an hour’s rest, i would try to do so.”
supper was brought to our room, the servant almost touching her knees to the floor, so low was her obeisance to the “new miss.” as i have once before remarked, my head was aching dreadfully, and as i looked at the soft, downy pillows which lay piled upon the snowy bed in the adjoining room, i thought how much rather i would throw myself among them, than join the gay company below. but it could not be, and with something like tears in the sound of my voice, i asked richard to send up my trunks.
closely inspecting me for a moment, he answered. “there is no necessity for you to dress. you look well enough just as you are, and you must not fatigue yourself any more. i shall get you excused in a little while, and sometime after you are thoroughly rested, angeline shall give a large party at her own house, where you’ll have an opportunity to display all the ‘fixins,’” and he laughed, thinking, i suppose, he had said something smart.
my dress was a dark blue merino, trimmed on the basque and sleeves with black velvet. it fitted neatly, and was, i knew, unusually becoming; so after arranging my curls and donning a clean linen collar, i took my husband’s arm and 363went down to the drawing-room, where i found about forty people assembled. with a few of them i was already acquainted, while the majority were only known to me by sight; for though i had often seen them at cedar grove, they had not thought it worth their while to notice a mere governess. now, however, as ada had said, matters were changed, and richard delafield’s wife could not be slighted with impunity. consequently i was for a time overwhelmed with compliments and attention; some with whom i had never before spoken, expressing their delight at seeing me back again, while others said that a bride was just what was wanting to give éclat to the winter gaieties.
close to my side kept ada, assuming a kind of patronizing manner and answering for me whenever she thought the conversation beyond my depth. of course she threw me quite in the shade, and in a measure she had her reward, for she, as well as i, heard a lady, a stranger in w——, say, “how much more beautiful miss montrose is than the bride. i wonder mr. delafield did not prefer her.”
there was a look of exultation on ada’s face as her eyes met mine, but it passed away as we heard the answer made by miss porter, a lady whom ada thought exceedingly aristocratic. “yes,” said she, “miss montrose is rather pretty, but she is fading fast, and i suppose mr. delafield preferred the freshness of youth to the decay of beauty, and for my part, i approve his choice, and think her a very pretty little creature.”
i glanced at my husband—he, too, heard the remark and it pleased him, i knew, while ada crossed over to the opposite side of the room and i saw her no more, for richard soon asked for me to be excused; a request which the company readily granted, saying, “i must of course be tired.”
it was late when richard came up to our room, and i saw 364in a moment that something was the matter, for his face wore the dark, hard look it sometimes did when he was disturbed. i did not then ask the cause of his annoyance, but afterwards i learned that the moment the guests were gone, ada, whose feelings were a good deal ruffled, not only at the attention i had received, but also at the remark of miss porter, commenced censuring my husband for having suffered me to appear in the drawing-room in my travelling dress. “’twas an insult to the company,” she said, “and they could excuse it on no other grounds save the supposition that i was entirely ignorant of etiquette in any form. i didn’t blame her so much,” said she, “for i suppose she didn’t know any better, but i was astonished at you.”
ada had quite forgotten herself, or else she misunderstood the man with whom she had to deal. very quietly he listened, but the storm was gathering within, and when she had finished, it burst upon her with a vengeance; he bidding her never again, either in his presence or the presence of any one, say aught disparagingly of his wife. “her actions shall not be questioned by you,” said he, “and you shall treat her with deference, for in every respect she is your superior, save that of age, and there, i admit, you have the advantage.”
this decided the matter at once, for ada was afraid of him, and though she could not conceal her dislike from me, she was in his presence always kind, considerate and sometimes even affectionate in her demeanor towards me, coming at last to call him “uncle dick,” in imitation of halbert, and me “aunt rose,” particularly if there were any strangers present.
the morning following my arrival i was formally presented to the servants, who received me with many 365demonstrations of joy, the older portion “bressin’ de lord they had lived to see mars’r richard look so happy and peart like as he did with the new miss.” only one eyed me at all askance, and that was aunt hagar, the housekeeper, who saw in me a rival—one who would henceforth wear jingling at her belt the huge bunch of keys, which for so long a time had been to her a badge of honor. then, too, the old lady, like my other new relatives, had some fears “that miss rose didn’t ‘long to the quality, and that mars’r richard had done histed hisself down a peg or so by marryin’ one who was brought up in de free states, whar dar warn’t nary nigger to fotch ’em a drink of water or fan when de sun was roastin’ hot.”
with a look of injured dignity, which made the steeple of a turban on her head tremble, she undid from her waist the bunch of keys, and offering them to me, said, “i ’spects these are yourn now.”
i drew back, for to me there was nothing pleasing in the idea of being disturbed every time a lump of sugar, a piece of coal, or a pan of flour was wanted, so i said, “if my husband is willing i’d rather you’d keep them yourself, as i know you are trusty.”
hagar’s face brightened perceptibly and i am induced to think she forgot in a measure my misfortune in having been born in a free state! at all events i have not now a more devoted servant than hagar, who declares me to be a “perfect lady,” and who has more than once ventured the treasonable remark, that “if all de free state folks is like miss rose, she’ll be boun’ she’d like to live thar!” regularly each morning she comes to me and asks “what miss would like for dinner,” and regularly each morning “miss” answers, “dear me, hagar, i don’t know; get what you like:” feeling confident the while that the programme is already made out 366and that any material suggestion from me would be superfluous. so much for mistress and slave.
with his usual generosity, my husband made all of the negroes presents in honor of his marriage; offering for bill’s acceptance a silver watch, which he had purchased for him in charleston. taking the timepiece in his hand, bill examined it attentively, held it to his ear, put it in his pocket, looked at the key, and then handing it back to his master, said, “no ‘fence, mars’r, but if you please thar’s somethin’ i’d like better.”
“very well, what is it?” asked richard; and bill answered, “why, you see, mars’r, how dem hosses, fred and ferd, has never had proper ’spect showed to thar memory. to be sure, i wars a weed on my hat and i ’fused to gine in de dance t’odder night, but that’s nothin’. ferd had too high blood in him to keer for an ole nigger’s mournin’, and what i wants is for you to paint de stable black, and that i reckons will show ’em proper ’tention. what do you say, miss rose?”
as the horses had fallen in my cause, i readily espoused bill’s project for the novelty of the thing, if nothing else; and should any one of my readers visit sunny bank, which i wish they may, they will see the stables wearing a hue as dark as bill himself, who has now a pair of iron-greys, which he calls “richard” and “rose,” notwithstanding that both are of the masculine gender. these, particularly the latter, are the pride of bill’s heart, and when the year of mourning has expired, he intends, he says, to have the stable painted “yaller,” that being the color of a young girl who has lately made sad havoc with his affections!
here i may as well say that mrs. lansing managed until she procured the desired piano, which came in company with another, a much nicer one, on the front of which was 367inscribed “rose, from her husband.” in return for her brother’s gift, mrs. lansing made a large party, where i had an opportunity of wearing my bridal dress, together with a costly set of diamonds, which i found upon my table, when i went up to make my toilet. it did not need the simple word “richard” on a bit of paper to tell me whence they came, and the tears started to my eyes when i thought how kind he was, while i was conscious of a glow of pride, when i saw little rosa lee flashing with diamonds, which encircled her arms and neck, and shone among the curls of her hair. bertha, my tasteful waiting maid—for i am getting quite southernized—pronounced me beautiful, as she gave the finishing stroke to my toilet, while one, for whose judgment i cared still more, and who all the time had been conning his evening paper, apparently oblivious to the presence of white satin, point lace, orange flowers and diamonds, responded, “yes, bertha, your young mistress is beautiful.”
dress does make a vast deal of difference in one’s looks, and if that night two-thirds of the three hundred particular friends, whose hands i shook, pronounced me “beautiful, handsome, charming, lovely,” and all that, it was owing chiefly, i think, to the fitness of my robes, and the brilliancy of my diamonds. these last were the subject of much remark, they being the finest which had ever been worn in w——, ada very good-naturedly saying, “she hoped my good fortune wouldn’t quite turn my head!”
mrs. lansing’s party was followed by many more, and ere i was aware of it mrs. richard delafield was quite a belle—what she said, what she did, and what she wore being pronounced au fait by the fashionables of w——. upon all this ada looked jealously; never allowing an opportunity to pass without speaking slightingly of me, though always careful that richard should not know of it. in his presence she 368was vastly kind, sitting at my feet, calling me “aunty,” and treating me as if i had been twenty years her senior. at first she spent much more of her time at sunny bank than was at all agreeable to me, and i was not sorry when a little incident occurred which in a measure tended to keep her away. she had always been in the habit of treating my husband with a great show of affection, and now that he was, as she said, “an old married man,” she seemed to think it no matter how much she caressed him. even i dared not seat myself upon his knee as coolly as she would, and her temerity troubled me, particularly as i knew it was annoying to him. this i must have manifested in some way, for one morning, when as usual she entered our room without knocking, and perched herself on richard’s knee, he pushed her off, saying, half in earnest, half in jest, “don’t act so foolish, ada, you make me sick, for now that i have rose to pet me i can easily dispense with your caresses, which are rather too much of a good thing.”
ada was angry, and with a little hateful laugh, she said, turning to me, “jealous, i suppose, and have read your better half a lecture on propriety. when i marry, i trust i shall have faith enough in my husband’s love for me, not to care even if he does chance to look at some one else.”
i knew richard would vindicate my cause, so i remained silent while he answered, “you do rose injustice, for never have we exchanged a word concerning the manner you have assumed towards me, and which i should suppose your own sense of propriety would condemn. were you my wife, ’twould be different.”
“your wife,” interrupted ada, with bitter scorn, “i am not your wife, thank fortune, neither did i ever aspire to be, and i have yet to see the man whom i would for a moment think of marrying.”
369there was not the slightest cause for this speech, but ada was angry; and, as if to exasperate her still more, richard coolly asked, “didn’t you think of marrying herbert langley when you engaged yourself to him?”
he had heard the whole story at meadow brook, but this was the first time he had hinted it to ada, who turned very pale and without another word left the room, going back to cedar grove, where for three weeks she pouted and cried alternately. at the end of that time, however, she concluded it better to “make up” so she wrote a note to us both, asking my pardon for her rudeness and begging my husband to forgive her for the many falsehoods she had told concerning her engagement with herbert, which she now frankly confessed. of course we forgave her, and as she was not one who remembered anything long, she soon began to visit us as of old, though she no longer sat on my husband’s knee, or wound her arms around his neck. his rebuke did her good, and she profited by it, while the fact that he was fully aware of the deception she had practised tended to humble her, and on rainy days, when richard was necessarily away from home, i found her quite an agreeable companion.
thus the winter and spring passed away, and my mother’s letters began to grow urgent for my return, but for various reasons richard did not think it advisable for me to under take so long a journey, and as sunny bank was all the world to me, i very cheerfully consented to wait until another season ere i visited my new england home. about this time i was again seized with my olden desire for authorship, induced in a measure by my knowing how much mrs. lansing reverenced anything which savored of a book-writer. to be an authoress, then, and make her proud to own me as her sister, was a subject over which i grew pale and “nervous,” richard said, while the negroes called me “fidgety” 370and wondered “what done ailded miss rose.” at last, after many wakeful nights and restless days, after sick headaches, nervous headaches, and all kind of headaches, the plan was marked out for a story. i would be the heroine myself and give to the world as much of my history as i thought proper, and if i failed—if no railroad, steamboat, or stagecoach passenger ever pointed me out as “the woman who wrote that book,” or if my publishers “respectfully declined” another bearing my signature, i thought i should still have the satisfaction of knowing i had tried to benefit the world, and i felt almost sure that in meadow brook at least there were people stupid enough to buy my book and possibly to like it, just because little rosa lee, who used to climb fences and hunt hen’s eggs with them in her childish days, had written it. so, one sunny morning in june, when my husband had left me to be gone for two weeks, i shut myself up in my room, donned a loose wrapper, tucked back my curls, opened my writing desk, took out a quire of foolscap, and had just written “meadow brook,” when the bell rang and bertha announced “a lady in the parlor.” with a deep sigh, as i thought how “we writers disliked to be disturbed,” i arranged my curls, resumed my cambric morning gown, and went down to receive my visitor, telling her that i was very well, that the weather was very warm, that i expected to be very lonely without my husband, that her bonnet was very pretty, that i didn’t think negroes as annoying and hateful as she did, after which she took her leave; and i went back to my room, this time locking the door and writing the first chapter of my book before the bell rang for dinner.
to bertha i imparted my secret, reading to her each page as i wrote it, and though she was not, perhaps, the most appreciating auditor one could have, she was certainly the 371most attentive and approving. it is true she objected to my describing myself as such a homely child. “jest tell de truffe and done wid it,” she said; whereupon i assured her that i had told the truth, and then she suggested that in order to make amends for my ugliness i should represent myself as having been “peart like and smart.” so, if the reader thinks i have made myself too precocious, the fault is chargeable to bertha, for i did it to please her!
for two weeks i wrote, scarcely allowing myself a moment’s rest, and bertha, who, when she saw how it wore upon me, began at last to expostulate. “thar wasn’t no ’casion,” she said, “to kill myself, when thar was heaps ’o niggers kickin’ round under foot, and if miss ’sisted on writin’ a book, why didn’t she make some dem lazy critters do it for her!”
at the end of two weeks richard returned, asking me as he looked in my face “what was the matter, and how i had spent my time?”
before i could answer, bertha, who was quite incensed against my book, said, “she’s done writin’ a spellin’ book, or somethin’, and sits up ’most all night. i tell her how ’twill kill her, but she pay no ’tention!”
the secret was out, and with many blushes i plead guilty, and producing my manuscript, watched richard while he read it. over the first chapter, where he thought i was going to die, he cried—or that is, tears came to his eyes; the third he skipped partially, the next entirely, and the next and the next (i hope the reader has not done likewise); but when he found dr. clayton he read every word, his forehead tying itself up in knots, which, however, cleared away the moment he came upon himself at the theatre, though i believe he didn’t feel much complimented by my description of his personal appearance!
372there, just as he was introduced, the story ended, and fortunate was it for me that it did so, for he declared i should not write another word after i got through with him; and i promised that i wouldn’t, mentally resolving that it should be some time before i reached that point. this then, my reader, is the reason why i said no more of him, when first i presented him to your notice, but left him for a while in mystery. i knew richard was anxious to hear what did become of himself, and i fancied that if i wrote considerable before i said anything very definite of him, he would be more likely to let me finish the book, as he would not wish me to waste so much paper for nothing! and the sequel proved that i was right. regularly each day i wrote, richard always stopping me the moment he thought i was tired, and invariably breaking me off in the wrong place, so if there should be any parts of my story which do not join together smoothly, you may know it was there that richard took my pen from my hand, or hid the inkstand.
towards the middle of august, invitations came for us to attend a large wedding in charleston. i was exceedingly anxious to go, having heard much of the bride, who was a distant relative of my husband, and though both he and mrs. lansing raised every conceivable objection to my leaving home, i adroitly put aside all their arguments, and ere richard fully realized that he had been coaxed into doing something he had fully determined not to do, we were rattling along in a dusty charleston omnibus towards one of the largest hotels, where rooms had been engaged for us. the morning after our arrival, i went into the public parlor, and as i seated myself at the piano i saw just across the room, near an open window, a quiet, intelligent-looking lady, apparently twenty-six or twenty-seven years of age, and near her sporting upon the carpet, was a beautiful little girl, 373with flowing curls and soft dark eyes, which instantly riveted my attention, they were so like something i had seen before.
at the sound of the music she came to my side, listening attentively, and when i had finished, she laid one white, chubby hand on my lap and the other on the keys, saying, “please play again, rose like to hear you.”
“and so your name is rose?” i answered, “rose what?”
“rosa lee clayton, and that’s my new ma,” she replied, pointing towards the lady, whose usually pale cheek was for an instant suffused with a blush such as brides only wear.
i knew now why i had felt interested in the child. it was the father which i saw looking at me through the eyes of brown, and taking the little creature in my arms, i was about to question her of her sire, when an increasing glow on the lady’s cheek and a footstep in the hall told me he was coming!
the next moment he stood before me, dr. clayton! his face perfectly unruffled and wearing an expression of content, at least, if not perfect happiness. i was conscious of a faintness stealing over me, but by a strong effort i shook it off, and rising to my feet, i offered him my hand, which he pressed, saying, “this is indeed a surprise, rose—i beg your pardon, mrs. delafield, i suppose?”
i nodded in the affirmative, and was about to say something more, when another footstep approached, and my husband’s tall figure darkened the doorway. for an instant they both turned pale, and dr. clayton grasped the piano nervously; but the shock soon passed away, and then as friend meets friend after a brief separation, so met these two men, who but the year before had watched together over my pillow, praying, the one that i might live, and the other that i might die.
wonderingly the little girl looked up into her father’s 374face, and pulling the skirt of my dress, said, “who is the lady, pa? with the pretty curls so much like mine?”
never before, i believe, did i like dr. clayton as i did at that moment when i saw the deep tenderness which broke over his features as he took his daughter in his arms, and pressing his lips to her forehead, answered, “it is rosa lee, my child, the lady for whom you were named.”
“don’t you love her, pa? i do,” she asked, stretching her little fat arms towards me.
i glanced at my husband—his brow was dark as midnight. i looked at dr. clayton, there was a slight quivering of his lips, while his wife was pale as a water lily, and then i burst into a merry laugh, in which the gentlemen soon joined, though it would have puzzled us all to have told at what we were laughing.
after a few words of explanation as to why we were there, dr. clayton suddenly remembered himself, and leading me towards the lady, introduced her as “my wife, mrs. clayton.” she had been living in florida with a cousin, at whose house they were married, about two weeks before, and they were now on their way to boston, stopping for a few days in charleston to see the city. i found her a very quiet, sensible woman, but as different from dell thompson, or rosa lee, as a person well could be, and i was wondering to myself how it was possible for a man to love so many people of opposite temperaments, when she said something about new england, and i asked if she were ever there.
“oh, yes,” she answered, “i was born there, in wilbraham, mass. i was living with the grandmother of the first mrs. clayton at the time of her death.”
in a moment it all came to me; dell had told me of mabel warrener, who had inherited her grandmother’s fortune, and now she sat there before me, mrs. clayton 2d. surely the freaks 375of fortune are wonderful! naturally refined and intelligent, mabel had employed a part of her money in giving herself a good education, graduating at mount holyoke female seminary, and going thence back to her home in wilbraham, which she had fitted up with much taste, and where she was living when dr. clayton met her on his return from georgia. of her then he only thought as of a pleasant, agreeable woman; but when time, absence, and my marriage had softened the keenness of his disappointment, he often found his thoughts wandering towards the fair mabel, who, upon inquiry, he learned had gone to florida. rose needed a mother, and he needed a wife; so, after an interchange of letters, he one morning started with his little girl for the “land of flowers,” where neither sickness, nor death, nor yet a richard delafield, came between him and his bride. they seemed very happy, for after a little dr. clayton recovered his equanimity, and appeared perfectly natural.
not a word, however, did he say of the past, or in any way allude to georgia, except once when he asked me if i did not think rose resembled jessie in a measure. i had thought of the same thing, though rosa’s eyes were darker and her hair more of a chestnut brown. she was a sweet little creature, and if anything could have reconciled me to being the wife of dr. clayton, it would have been the fact that she was my daughter. but as i contrasted the two men, as my eye fell on dr. clayton’s handsome face and curly locks, and then rested on the dark features and raven hair of richard, i felt that in him there was more of the true, the noble man, and my heart warmly approved me for the choice i had made.
nearly all the morning we sat there talking on indifferent subjects, and when dinner was over, mrs. clayton came to 376my room, staying a long time, and gaining fast in my good opinion, when i saw how kind and friendly she was. she had heard the whole story, for she told me so, holding little rose upon her lap and smoothing her silken curls.
“we cannot all love the same person,” she said in conclusion; “and i am so glad you refused him, for otherwise he would not have been my husband;” and her quiet eyes lighted up with a look of happiness which plainer than words could express told me that she had brought to dr. clayton no divided affections.
at the making of my toilet for the wedding she was present, aiding bertha greatly by her own tasteful suggestions, and when at last i was dressed with perfect childish simplicity, she ran for her husband “to come and see if i didn’t look pretty.”
“mrs. delafield was always pretty to me,” was the doctor’s answer, and that was all he said.
they were to leave early next morning before i would be up, and so when the carriage was announced, we went to bid them good-bye.
“may i kiss your wife?” asked the doctor of my husband, as he held my hand.
“certainly, sir,” answered richard, “an even exchange is always fair,” and instead of once, he kissed the blushing mabel twice, which of course gave dr. clayton liberty to do the same by me.
suddenly remembering something which i had left in my room, i went up for it, and on my way back glanced into the parlor, occupied by dr. clayton. he was seated upon the sofa by the side of his wife, around whose waist his arm was affectionately thrown, while partly on his lap and partly upon that of her step-mother was little rose, her long eyelashes 377drooping sleepily over her eyes of brown. it was a beautiful tableau, and whenever i think of dr. clayton now, it is as i last saw him, happy and contented, for he has not only won a most excellent wife, but also secured that $10,000 after all!
