Elisabeth Sanxay Holding

“ Dacier caught her hand as she was moving away.
“There are lots of other reasons,” he said; “only there's not time to tell them now, even if you were in the mood to listen. Anyhow, Mildred, I think you know. I'm sure you know. You must have seen, long ago, how I felt.”
“Oh, no!” she said, with a sob. “Not now! Do, please, go away, and leave me alone! You don't know—you can't imagine—I could die of shame and wretchedness. Do go away!”
“Darling girl!” he said. “Dear, darling girl! Come and have your wedding! Hold up your dear head again! ”

“ The dressmaker knelt at her feet as if before an idol, gathered the gleaming material into folds here and there, and put in pins, serious and happy in this congenial work. She admired Mildred immeasurably, because Miss Henaberry was polite and kind and beautiful, and did justice to a dressmaker's art.
Mildred was not the first idol to be obliged to stand still and look lovely while the keenest anguish racked her. Not by the flicker of an eyelash would she betray what she suffered. ”

“ Now, in order to comprehend the case of Mildred Henaberry, one thing must be admitted. She had a thousand good qualities, the best manners in the world, and a rare type of beauty, but she was not lovable. You were obliged to respect and to admire her, and sometimes you resented the obligation.
As a result, the gossip about her had a decidedly malicious flavor. Any number of people were delighted at being able to laugh at perfection brought low. All the malice was toward Mildred—none for Will. ”

“ Any number of people had wanted to warn and advise her about Will Mallet.
“My dear,” said Mrs. Terhune, an old friend of her mother's, “Will can't support a wife.”
“He's never tried,” answered Mildred. “He's never had a wife.”
“But Will is—” Mrs. Terhune began and had to stop.
Impossible to describe just what was wrong with Will Mallet. He came of a good family, and, though he hadn't a penny, he had influential connections. He wasn't lazy, he hadn't a vice in the world, he was intelligent, almost scholarly, and altogether a handsome and endearing boy. ”

“ Before a week had passed, Mildred saw that this must be stopped. It made her angry—so very angry that she nearly wept over it alone at night.
“I suppose he thinks, and Mrs. Terhune thinks, that he's doing a kindness to a poor, forlorn, jilted old maid,” she thought. “He's entirely too sure of himself. He takes it for granted that I'm glad to see him all the time. He thinks—”
Her ideas of what he thought distressed her beyond measure. That evening, when he appeared again, he found her very cool and aloof—even on the moonlit veranda, and even while he made his best efforts to amuse her. ”

“ Naturally she talked to him about Mildred Henaberry, because the affair had upset and troubled her. He listened good-humoredly, not in the least interested; but he was destined to be plunged into that affair, head over heels, and it was Mrs. Terhune who was to push him into it.
It happened simply enough.
“I heard about a new tea room up near Beacon,” he said to his aunt one afternoon. “Let's run up there, Aunt Kate!”
“You don't want to go with your old aunt,” said she, beaming with delight. “At your age, you want the society of young people.” ”

“ To me, loyalty is the most beautiful thing in the world. I have been able to save a little money in the past year, by giving music lessons, and I have rented a dear little cottage here and filled it with what was left of mother's furniture. I am really doing very well, so that even if the florist shop isn't enormously profitable at the start, we shall be able to manage nicely. So far the letter was delightful and comforting; but it went on:
But, Will, you know how thirsty a small town is for gossip, and it has really been more unpleasant than I care to tell you. ”

“ He is inclined to be far too sensitive about his earning powers, but I am sure you agree with me that a man is not to be judged by his financial success. I have perfect faith in Will. Mr. Terhune shook his gray head.
“Too bad!” he said. “Well, I'm not surprised.”
And then and there, over the breakfast table, floated the word from which poor Mildred had run away—that word bitter as death, which she could not tolerate the thought of hearing. It passed between Mr. and Mrs. Terhune, it went out to the servants in the kitchen, it found its way into many other houses—the word “jilted.” ”

“ He didn't believe a word of this, but he was so sorry for the girl, he so much admired her fine pride, that he answered in the most convincing way. He remembered everything he had ever heard about Mallet, and he spoke of him seriously, with interest. He asked about the florist project, and talked to Mildred as to a girl authentically and eternally engaged. It was the nature of the fellow to make himself agreeable. ”

“ I don't care how handsome he is, he's stuffed with straw—when she's married Will Mallet, she'll grow worse and worse. She'll trample on him. It 'll do him good, but it's terribly bad for her. If she'd had a real man like Robert Dacier, she'd have got over that. He's the best-tempered, best-hearted boy in the world, but nobody could trample on him!”
Mr. Terhune respected his wife's distress, and said no more. He couldn't feel quite so strongly about weddings as she did, although he was very fond of Mildred Henaberry, and very sorry for her headstrong folly. ”

“ Not that Dacier gave much time to thinking about Mildred, for he was not at all a thoughtful young man. He was a cheerful, careless, good-looking fellow, who was a nephew of Mrs. Terhune. That lady refused to admit that of all her nephews and nieces he was her favorite, because she prided herself upon being a just and sensible woman, far too reasonable to be beguiled by the lad's curly head and debonair humor. ”

“ She was beautiful, she knew how to dress and how to carry herself, and socially she was perfect; but there is one little truth which Mildred had never been taught. A good example must not be too good, or, instead of producing a desire for imitation, the beholders feel only despair and hopeless inferiority. ”

“ Terhune's nephew,” she thought. “I ought to be nice to him.”
To tell you the truth, no matter whose nephew he had happened to be, I don't believe that Mildred could have helped being nice to him. Very few people could. She let him into her neat little sitting room, and she felt concerned, as any properly constituted woman would have felt, because he was dripping wet. She made him a cup of tea, and, having an hour to wait for the next pupil, sat down to talk to him. Dacier was good at talking. ”

“ Terhune wept.
“It's a tragedy,” she said. “A wonderful girl like Mildred, and that wretched Will Mallet!”
“It's certainly a pity,” said her husband; “but I suppose she knows what she's doing.”
“Of course she knows, but she doesn't care. She's always been like that. I remember that once, when she was a little girl, she said she was going to make a birthday cake for her father. Well, almost as soon as she began, she hurt herself with a hammer, trying to crack walnuts. ”

“ It was summer now, and he began to think with longing of the country.
“The only thing left,” he reflected, “is to go back and try that florist business seriously. I'll write to Mildred first, of course. She'll understand. She's very loyal. Moreover, she's not the sort of girl most men take to. She's—well, she's too fine. She'll help me to get the thing started, and then we'll be married.” ”

“ He said it in a boastful, conceited way that should have been rebuked; but Mildred did not rebuke him.
“Oh, you're a thousand times better!” she cried, instead. “Better and dearer than any one else in the world! Only—”
It has been mentioned before that Dacier was good at talking. He needed all his skill now, for he had only a few minutes in which to overcome any number of objections, to change her tears to smiles, and to persuade her to make haste and get ready. He succeeded.
VIII
The clergyman was not surprised, because the bridegroom was unknown to him anyhow ”

“ We had better be married quietly as soon as you come. I'll arrange everything, if you will let me know when to expect you. This terrified him. Of course, he loved Mildred, and admired her.
“But I'm not worthy of her!” he cried. “I never can be!” And he might truthfully have added: “I never want to be!”
Impossible to say what his conscience would have driven him to, if the landlady had not come up just then and spoken very disagreeably about his rent; so he saw that it was right for him to be a florist. He sent a telegram to announce his arrival three days later.
VII
Mrs. ”

“ The longest-living author of this work died in 1955, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 68 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works. ”