Miss Johnson

“ Johnson’s wife was a rather stout, unsympathetic-looking young woman, with the knit of obstinacy in her forehead; she had that stamp of “hardness” on her face which is the rule amongst English and the exception amongst Australian women. We of Solong thought her hard, selfish and narrow-minded, and paltry; later on we thought she was a “bit touched;” but local people often think that of strangers.
By her voice and her habit of whining she should have been a thin, sharp-faced, untidy, draggled-tailed woman in a back street in London, or a worn-out selector’s wife in the bush. ”

“ But this day, as he stood beside his veteran father, ready to take his place among the chiefs of the Grand Council, she saw revealed another phase of his life and character; she saw that he was destined to be a man among men, and for the first time she realized that her boy companion had gone a little beyond her, perhaps a little above her. They were a strange pair as they stood somewhat apart, unconscious of the picture they made. She, a gentle-born, fair English girl of twenty, her simple blue muslin frock vying with her eyes in color. ”

“ But if Louise had no longer power to wound him on his own account, she brought back to him, with overwhelming sadness, the memory of Inga, and the ceaseless, burning need that all the deeper sources of his nature had of her sustaining presence. Of those who were at the table, he [321] knew almost all, men and women of a fashionable set, several defiant of social censure, others too firmly entrenched to be judged by their companions. Every one at the table must have known what Louise Bowden was, what she had done and would dare to do. ”

“ Johnson’s wife. But, indeed, the reason is graver. What wish would he have had but that the language in the making whereof he took no ignoble part should somewhere, at some time, treat his only friend with ordinary honour?
Men who would trust Dr. Johnson with their orthodoxy, with their vocabulary, and with the most intimate vanity of their human wishes, refuse, with every mark of insolence, to trust him in regard to his wife. ”

“ Don't do it—it's foolish, and you will get the lone notion really fastened in your mind and let some fool man find out that is how you feel. Then it will be all over with you. I have only one regret, and it is that if I ever should be a widow [49] Mr. Johnson wouldn't be here to see how quickly I turned into an old maid, by the grace of God." Mrs. Johnson sews by assassinating the cloth with the needle, and as she talked she was mending the sleeve of one of Mr. Johnson's shirts.
"I think an old maid is just a woman who has never been in love with a man who loves her. ”

“ Inga took him hurriedly in her arms, crying:
“Mr. Dangerfield, nothing’s happened—you’re here. It’s Inga—O’Leary’s here—we’re all here!”
“Inga,” he said slowly, and, already half returned to the land of confused dreams, he dropped his hands and turned his face toward her voice, a clouded, perplexed [171] look in his eyes. She dropped on one knee and met his glance, smiling.
“It’s all right; nothing’s happened. You’re in your studio, safe,” she said, as though she were talking to a child.
“Safe enough for the time being,” said Doctor Fortier, breaking in in quick, staccato tones. ”

“ They had hardly drawn up at the Arcade amid a gathering of small urchins, when a great limousine came superbly up and a familiar voice cried in great excitement:
“Inga! Inga!”
The next moment, the Myrtle Popper, which had been, came flying rapturously toward them, in the figure of a stylishly dressed woman in half mourning. From the limousine, more slowly, King O’Leary descended, somewhat embarrassed at being thus surprised.
“Mr. Dangerfield, how well you look! Inga, how pretty you’ve grown!” cried Myrtle, embracing her. ”

“ Doris, I know you too well—what you've lived with and what you must have." He added, with a doubting smile: "You remember what you said to me that day on our ride, when we passed through that factory village—'ask me anything but to be poor.'"
"Bojo," she said, desperately, "you don't understand what a woman is. That was true—then. There's all that you say in me, but there's something else which you've never called out before, which can come when I love, when I really love." She clung to him, fighting for him, feeling how close she had been to losing him. ”

“ His look regained all its ardor of the morning, until Nicole regarded him with a new interest. He had the long, narrow forehead of the period, marked with thoughtfulness and curiosity. The nose was high-bridged, the nostrils were sensitive and dilating with emotion. The gray eyes were shrewd, kind, gay, and noting, with the mobility and charm of the enthusiast, but, in their repose, without that impress of authority and earnestness of purpose which give to the man of imagination the genius of leadership. ”

“ Dangerfield did not seem to have heard her for he whipped about the room a score of times, before stopping suddenly.
“Inga,” he said nervously, “what would you show him? Just the things I did lately, that bit of Grand Street and the Italian wedding? They’re the best, I think. Or would you show the sketches at the seashore also? Or what would you do?”
Womanlike, she resented this sudden timidity before the judgment of another, resenting that the masculine authority which she had herself built up should yield, if only momentarily, before the personality of another man. ”

“ At the sight of the shriveled-parchment face and the familiar leer Nicole burst out, in astonishment:
"Ah, Cramoisin, I might have known it was you!" She replaced in her belt the knife she had drawn, facing him with the whips of her scorn.
"Women are too strong for you, then! You must match your strength with children. Bravo! my brave fellow, you are the victor at last. Wait until I sing your praises. You shall become famous, tamer of children!"
"Vixen!" shrieked the mountebank, stung to words by her gadding. He shook a lean fist at her, crying, "Thy turn'll come!" ”

“ His eyes came back to hers.
“Pretty hard task you’ve got, Inga.”
“Please be patient—just a while longer. I know it’ll all come back.”
“Wish you were right.”
“It will; it will. I’ve even seen it in your eyes, the way you look at things, that group in the restaurant, the old woman with the newspapers.”
“Seeing is one thing; doing is another.”
“But why don’t you try?” she said hesitatingly. At this, he turned and glanced longingly at the easel in the corner.
“Oh, if you only would! I’d pose for you all day long!” she cried eagerly. ”

“ Feeley, bounding up, came rushing in furiously, but Dangerfield stopped him with a quick oath, and he turned, gazing, too, at the tall figure, purposely concealed in furs and heavy veils.
There was a silence as flat as a calm in a gale. Each recognized at once that it was a woman of the world and that she had the right to be there, and drew back so as to leave the room to the two figures: the woman drawn up scornfully against the door, and Dangerfield, with his lips twitching and his curious bearlike stare, facing her, with the white lights running over his glistening neck and torso. ”

“ Johnson, whose dimensions required rather more than half, placed herself by my side, her husband grasped the reins and crowded his diminutive proportions between us, while the dear little boys stood up behind and held by the back of our seat. Mr. Johnson gave his reins a jerk and flourished a whip—with a very short and white hickory handle, a long lash, and a thong of twisted leather fastened on for a snapper—with peculiar grace over the drooping head of our steed. The poor animal gathered up his limbs and walked down the street, dragging us after him, with great majesty and decorum. ”

“ Besides, if you have any spunk you'll do it," she added artfully.
"What do you mean?"
"Just let Doris get her fill of that old fossil of a Boskirk. Show your independence. Bojo, please do it for me!"
She clung to him, coquetting with her eyes and smile with the dangerous inconscient coquetry of a child, and this radiance and rosy youth, so close to him, so intimately offered, brought him a disturbing emotion. He turned away so as not to meet the sparkling, pleading glance.
"Young lady," he said with assumed gruffness, "I see you are learning entirely too fast. ”

“ I am really delighted with him; he is full as handsome, I think, as Mainwaring, and with such an open, good-humoured countenance, that one cannot help loving him at first sight. Mr. Johnson and he are the greatest friends in the world. ”

“ I have read 'Pilgrim's Progress,' I assure you!—read it through and through, a number of times, and love it dearly."
Dr. Johnson instantly advanced, and rubbing his head against her dress, purred loudly. He then went round to Rose, who sat opposite, and made the same demonstration of good-will to her.
"Dear pussy!" said Rose, stroking him gently, and scratching him behind one ear in a very knowing manner.
Miss Wealthy drew a long breath of satisfaction. "It is all right," she said. "Martha, [63] he is delighted with the young ladies. Dear Doctor! he shall have some almond-pudding at once. ”

“ Suppose you were to see this Mrs. Johnson. A man can sometimes penetrate plans—”
And he was in collusion with Mrs. Johnson, keeping the secret from the woman he loved, but if there should be some mistake!
“Yes, I will see Mrs. Johnson,” he said slowly.
A light footfall came down the stairs, and Marilla flew to his side.
“Oh, I thought I heard your voice,” and both small hands clasped his. “Fairy godmother I have spelled all those queer words until I can just feel them in my brain. Oh, doctor, when I wrote you that letter last summer wasn’t some words wrongly spelled? ”

“ Really, what the law and the police are coming to, I do not know!”
Like many ladies, Mrs. Johnson spent much time in lamenting the inefficiency of these bodies. “Go up to bed, my dear, and I will send you a posset. I am taking one myself for my cold. I fear you are terribly upset, but Emily can sleep with you if you are nervous.”
“No, no, thank you,” said Isoline, making a great effort at self-control. “I am quite well now. I am not afraid, thank you, ma’am, but I was upset at thinking—at thinking——”
“My dear, I can well sympathize,” said Mrs. Johnson, “it is enough to upset any one. ”

“ Dangerfield,” he said, going to her instantly. “I congratulate the wife. Everything is perfect, absolutely,—just so, even to that little touch of red poppies against the carved wood—beautiful, beautiful—just in its place, adds just the note, just the right value. Mr. John Sargent couldn’t have done better. Dan, if you’ve painted anything half as good as this room I shall be satisfied.”
Despite herself, Inga began to laugh. There was something about the little man in his twinkling eyes and shooting eyebrows, his easy adaptability and winning friendliness which could not be resisted. ”

“ I am dying, love, for you."
Leagues afar, across the prairie, she had risen from her bed,
Roused her kinsmen from their slumber: "He has come to-night," she said.
"I can hear him calling, calling;
But his voice is as the dead.
"Listen!" and they sate all silent, while the tempest louder grew,
And a spirit-voice called faintly, "I am dying, love, for you."
Then they wailed, "O! Yakonwita.
He was Pale, but he was true."
Wrapped she then her ermine round her, stepped without the tepee door,
Saying, "I must follow, follow, though he call for evermore,
Yakonwita, Yakonwita;" ”

“ I’m going to let you be my banker for a couple of days. Give him a liberal tip. And I say, when the florist comes in the morning with my boutonnière, attend to that, too, will you? Oh, yes, if Mrs. Van Astorbilt calls again this evening, tell her I have gone to the country—but discreetly, Sassafras, discreetly, in your best manner. Remember—she is a woman, like your mother.”
The sparkling elevator sagged out of sight, burying in the cavernous shaft the body-shaking peals of laughter, leaving O’Leary and Tootles moving down the spacious, murky corridor of the sixth floor back. ”

“ Thrale, quite unaware of any cause in herself, and her flow of pleasant chatter, for Johnson’s reproof, took it as a gratuitous display of surliness and rudeness, showing how a great philosopher can be deficient in humane feeling. She does not even mention that she was eating larks, so that the larks, which were her own supper, become, under her light hand, a merely rhetorical adornment of Johnson’s invective. ”

“ He stopped suddenly and lifted his hand to his head, saying with a ceremonious bow to the glittering room of frantic gamblers which rose in his vision: “Gentlemen, I thank you. You have restored me to my art! Cocher, Rue Bonaparte!” Immediately a frown succeeded, and he said rapidly, in a hard voice: “No, no, and no! I permit you to love another—that is your right. I do not admit of vulgar deception. You will do as I say. You will do it, or I—”
“Mr. Dangerfield,” cried Inga, laying her hand over his, which was whipping back and forth in uncontrolled excitement, “hush!” ”

“ Hamilton declares her love, or rather friendship, was totally innocent, till the temptations of Johnson first led her astray. This latter was, it seems, no novice in impurity, which, as she confess’d, she had learnt and often practiced at Bristol with her methodistical sisters.
As Molly Hamilton was extremely warm in her inclinations, and as those inclinations were so violently attached to Mrs. Johnson, it would not have been difficult for a less artful woman, in the most private hours, to turn the ardour of enthusiastic devotion into a different kind of flame. ”