Shirley Watkins

“ An hour later poor Carl was far past caring whether “they” made a fuss over him or not. But indeed the worst part of it was that there was very little fuss made at all. His room was so quiet that the chirping of the birds in the budding trees outside his window, the sound of voices in the street below could all be heard distinctly, and yet Aunt Gertrude and Mr. Lambert sat beside his bed, and Janey was there, clinging to her father’s hand, and Paul sat half hidden in the little window embrasure, staring out soberly at the fading sky. ”

“ There was indeed no girl in Frederickstown who could claim to be quite as pretty as Lily Deacon. Slender and small, with a little tip-tilted nose, which gave the most unexpected and charming spice of coquetry to her delicate face, with large serious blue eyes, and glossy black hair so neatly coiled on the nape of her neck, with beautifully drawn eyebrows, and a tiny mole at the corner of her under lip, accentuating the whiteness of her skin, she would have drawn her tributes of admiration from any pair of eyes that rested on her—and would have been perfectly blind to them. ”

“ Paul picked up a stout log and flung it onto the smouldering ashes, and in a few moments, a bright flame crackled up, sending its ruddy light into every corner of the room.
Everyone is familiar with the exquisite feeling of sympathy, which food, produced at just the right moment, can excite between the most hostile natures, and over their cups of cocoa, Jane and Paul, who had never been really hostile, began to see each other in a new light. For the first time they talked with unguarded friendliness, and gradually Paul became more confiding, and Jane listened with her usual eager interest. ”

“ All around her people were dancing, eating, drinking, talking, laughing. People were leaving, people were coming—she was not thinking about them—she was not even thinking about solemn Mr. Mellitz nor of how Mr. Gilroy coaxed his deep, sweet tones out of the frayed strings of his old cello.
She was wondering where Paul was. The very gaiety of the family reunion made her feel the absence of the outcast all the more keenly. Her cheerful hope of his return had waned steadily during the past weeks. There was no news of him, although Mr. Lambert himself had tried to trace him. No, he was gone. ”

“ Aunt Gertrude’s wedding dress was made of silk, with a tight little bodice and a huge skirt, brave with flounces and gathers; and above its mellow ivory-colored tones Elise’s flaxen hair shone like gold. Lily, Dolly and Annie Lee were loud in their raptures over her plump, blooming prettiness, but Amelia looked on with a rather strained smile.
“Now, put it back in the box, or you’ll soil it,” said Annie Lee. “And I shall help Janey with the tea; you can’t do half a dozen things at once.” ”

“ I’m sure if you beg hard, your mother would let you,” wheedled Annie Lee. Lily shook her head.
“I don’t think so. And I’m afraid mamma thinks its awfully bold of me even to think of such a thing.”
“There’s nothing bold about a Spanish dancer. Just dashing,” said Dolly.
“But Lily isn’t at all dashing,” remarked Amelia.
“I want to be, though,” said Lily suddenly. “I’d like to be very, very dashing just for once in my life. I want to know what it feels like. I’m sick of being demure and lady-like. Yes, I am! And I want to wear a comb in my hair and scarlet heels.” ”

“ On second thought, Peterson did not feel wounded; he felt rather like shaking dear Mr. Tim.
“Say what you like, that’s no way to go on, now. Life’s too easy for him, and that’s the truth, though I don’t say I wouldn’t hate to see it hard for him. But to take on so, just because a young lady was pleased to make up her mind not to have him! ’Tisn’t every young feller has the leisure to sit and mope himself into the vapors over a chip in his heart, that’ll be whole again in three months.” Then Peterson grinned. ”

“ But what was Paul Winkler to the city? And even if at some time in that future to which he looked forward with dogged hope, he should make fame and fortune, would the city care any more about Paul Winkler? Would he not have been wiser—and happier—to have fitted himself to the ways of his own people, to have gone on growing up among them, learning to know them, to honor them for their simple virtues, and to forgive them their weaknesses? ”

“ Paul repeated.
“Do you mean a house-painter, or—” here Mr. Lambert raised his eyes to the ceiling as if invoking the mercy of the gods upon this benighted youth, “or an artist?”
“I’m afraid I mean an artist, sir.”
“A person who,” Mr. Lambert went through a tragic pantomime of painting in the air, “who paints pictures?”
“Yes,” said Paul briefly.
There was a long pause while Mr. Lambert struggled to assimilate this preposterous idea. At last a tolerant, half-pitying smile spread over his features.
“My dear boy, we all have foolish notions in our youth. You will get over this nonsense. ”

“ Annie Lee sat back on her heels, thoroughly satisfied with her achievement. And well she might be. The vivid yellow skirt, which looked almost exactly like real satin, had been judiciously shortened to show the prettiest ankles in Frederickstown, clad in a pair of black silk stockings with scarlet clocks!—another of Lily’s hidden treasures. The black lace scarf, draped like a mantilla over the high tortoise-shell comb, fell over Lily’s slender white shoulders, and framing her face, made her skin seem more transparent, her hair blacker, her eyes bluer, and her mouth redder than before. ”

“ His uncle was getting old, and the silent, tragic appeal in the poor man’s eyes, and his dreadful anxiety about his son had touched Paul even more than Aunt Gertrude’s sorrow.
“Ah, well, what’s the use of trying to settle the whole course of your life,” he said aloud, but more as if he were speaking to himself. “You get worked up, and start pitying yourself before there’s anything definite to pity yourself for.” Then suddenly, he said, “Tell me, cousin, I have wanted to ask you—why is it that you hated me? If you don’t want to answer never mind. ”

“ My dear boy, I am your old Granny!” And weeping from sheer joy, she unhesitatingly flung her arms around his neck and kissed him.
A few moments later the entire family had collected to welcome the newcomer. The twins with their round blue eyes fastened on him gravely, clung to their mother, who kissed him warmly, exclaimed over his size, and at once began to worry affectionately about his wet clothes. Elise greeted him with her usual gentle, modest smile, Carl with a patronizing, “How do you do, cousin?” and a keen glance, as if he were “sizing up” an opponent of some sort. ”

“ Lambert’s warehouse, where already two men in blue shirts were at work tossing a fresh wagon-load of corn husks into the well-filled loft. Early to bed and early to rise was the motto of the industrious folk of Frederickstown, one and all. Wagons covered with white canvas hoods, and filled with tobacco, others, overflowing with pumpkins, celery, apples and cranberries—all the rich autumn produce of the fertile farming country beyond the town—were rumbling over the cobblestones in a picturesque procession, on their way to the market-place. ”

“ So Paul, who had been on the verge of thawing a little, had frozen up again. He concluded immediately that everyone disliked him, and like many sensitive people, instead of attempting to overcome this imagined dislike, he carefully hid all that was winning in his nature, under his cold, unsympathetic manner. He even fancied that his aunt’s affectionate little attentions were only assumed to hide her real feelings. Poor Aunt Gertrude! No one in the world was less capable of insincerity than she, and her gentle heart ached over the forlorn, taciturn youth. ”

“ The whole room was in pleasant disorder, books and games lay scattered around, for Mr. Lambert had relaxed his usual strict Sabbath rules while Carl was ill, and permitted all sorts of uncustomary amusements. Minie was cutting new paper dolls out of the Sunday paper, and painting them in glorious hues. Everyone was gossiping and chattering—everyone, that is except Jane and Paul, who sat on the little bench that made a seat in the embrasure of the casement window. ”

“ Deacon hastily, “that will be charming. And so well chosen. How will you signify yourself?”
“I am going to wear a simple Grecian robe of white muslin, with laurel leaves in my hair. And I shall carry a lyre,” replied Amelia. “I thought I would let my hair hang loose.”
“Ravishing! Simply ravishing!” cried Mrs. Deacon in perfect raptures. “So simple. And after all, is there anything like simplicity?”
“How will you get a lyre?” asked the practical Annie Lee.
“I shall try to make one out of card-board and gold paper.”
“Or you could borrow old Mr. Poindexter’s banjo,” suggested Jane, gravely. ”

“ The melancholy tone of his voice prompted a dozen inquisitive questions to the tip of Jane’s tongue.
“Oh. Are you sick?”
“There are different kinds of illness,” said Mr. Sheridan gloomily and mysteriously. Jane’s grave eyes considered him attentively. Perhaps he was suffering from a guilty conscience. He might have embezzled money from a bank. He might even have killed someone. She felt very sorry for him.
“Don’t you ever want to see anybody? I can’t understand that.”
“My dear child,” said Mr. Sheridan in a patronizing tone, “there are probably several things that you don’t understand yet. ”

“ I want to tell him every bit. And they said that ‘in spite of many something-or-other faults it showed’—I’ve forgotten what—they said it was awfully, awfully good—oh, I don’t know where to begin!”
“Begin at the beginning, darling. No one will interrupt your story,” said Aunt Gertrude, drawing Jane to her. “And Paul’s not going to run away.”
So Janey took a deep breath and commenced afresh; while Paul listened, first growing pale, and then blushing a deep red. He felt the glow rushing all over him, and when she had finished, he could not say a word. ”

“ It is enough to say that her shining eyes were filled with them, that the dimples came, and that when she smiled to herself, she bent her head so that no one would be able to see that smile, and perhaps read its meaning.
Mrs. Deacon had been persuaded to permit the Spanish costume, and under her scarfs and furs, Lily was very dashing indeed, with the high comb, and the clocked stockings, the spangled fan, and the scarlet heels. And she pictured herself naïvely as the belle of the ball; yes, all the young men should besiege her—but she didn’t care about that in itself. ”

“ Jane looked at him intently. He was a little man, of twenty-six or seven, with a rosy face, a pug nose, and bright blue eyes, like pieces of Dutch china. His straw colored hair was combed down on his forehead, curled slightly around his ears, and grew down the nape of his neck. He wore a tiny moustache, which seemed to have no kinship with either his hair or his eyebrows, for where these last were almost flaxen, the stiff fringe on his upper lip was as red as rust. Yet he was a pleasant looking young man ”

“ And in fact, not the least of his grievances against Paul was Jane’s affection for him; for cold and selfish as Carl might be, he loved Jane in his own way, and in addition, he hated not to be the chief object of interest. Besides, he was feeling half ill again.
“Shall we ask Lily to come with us?” suggested Elise, as they reached the top of Sheridan Lane.
“Let’s ask everyone we meet,” said Jane, “everybody! Nobody ought to stay cooped up indoors to-day. Poor Lily—she’s practising again.” ”

“ Instinctively, Elise clung to Hyacinth’s hand, and like the babes in the wood, they slowly walked into the dining room.
Mr. Lambert was seated at his desk; and the light coming in through the window shone upon his glasses so that neither of the quailing young people could quite see his eyes. There was a ferocious frown between his bristling grey eyebrows.
“Mr. Montgomery, I heard some of the remarks you were making to my daughter. I also heard you say that you wanted to see me. I am willing to listen to anything you have to say—provided that you come to the point quickly!” ”

“ And Jane said, beaming at him, “Good morning, Papa,” and rose to kiss his cheek, and then to give her mother a hug that left the plump, smiling, dimpling Gertrude quite breathless.
“Sit down now, you bad child,” whispered Mrs. Lambert, patting Jane’s ruddy cheek, “and don’t talk. Your father is going to.”
The family sat silent and expectant, while Mr. Lambert gravely salted his porridge, then fumbled for his steel-rimmed spectacles in the pocket of his coat, fitted them on his high-bridged nose, and at length cleared his throat. ”

“ Elise, who under her placid exterior had the most romantic of souls, sat down to recount all the details that she had gleaned from her best friend.
“And she’s going to live in that lovely house, and she’ll travel, and she—goodness, do you suppose Paul has burned up another batch of cakes?” she broke off short in her rhapsody over Lily’s prospects to sniff the air.
“Don’t you smell smoke? I do hope he hasn’t had another disaster—he’s been getting along so well. Well, anyway—where was I?”
“You said she was going to travel. What I want to know is when the wedding is going to be,” said Jane. ”

“ In one corner stood Mr. Lambert’s squat, business-like desk, where every evening, from nine to ten, he went over his accounts. At the round table in the center, the family ate their meals, and at night, the children prepared their lessons, while Grandmother Winkler, seated in her padded rocking chair, read her Bible, or nodded over her knitting.
When Jane made her unceremonious entry, the family was seated, and, with their heads bent reverently over their plates of steaming porridge, were reciting grace in unison. ”

“ If he turned his head he could see the whole length of Sheridan Lane. All the trees on Sheridan Lane had turned yellow, and the leaves strewing its cobblestones, looked like golden coins—the generous largess scattered in the progress of jovial King Autumn. Above the mass of frost-nipped foliage rose the rounded belfry of the old church, and underneath lay the double rows of pretty gardens all glowing with their asters and chrysanthemums. ”

“ But to-day, through the ignorance and indifference of the world, the profession is fallen in value, because, forsooth, it is fancied that it caters to the less noble tastes of mankind. My dear boy, it is for you, in whose veins flows the blood of the King of Bakers, to maintain the fame and dignity of your profession. Do not imagine that you lack the gift. It has lain idle, but a little practice will soon prove that it is in your possession.”
Paul, feeling that he had come up against a wall of adamant, got up and began to pace the floor. ”

“ Jane beamed at him, and waved her hand, and he smiled back at her and lifted his hat; but, in that brief second—and Jane did not fail to note this—his eye travelled swiftly over the cluster of pretty faces, and with remarkable keenness, singled out Lily’s, and again he lifted his hat, and bowed slightly.
Jane turned quickly to see Lily blushing pink, and with an answering smile just fading from her eyes.
“Do you know him too?” she demanded. Lily pretended not to hear. ”

“ You can’t think how I dislike being shut up in this room for hours every day without anyone to talk to.” Indeed, there was nothing that Aunt Gertrude disliked more heartily than solitude and silence. Like Jane, she adored people in general, she loved chat and gossip, she loved to hear all that was going on, and could never escape too quickly to the shop, where all day long the townspeople were running in and out, always stopping for a short chat with the lively, inquisitive merry proprietress. ”