Miss Pomeroy

“ Miss Pomeroy did not answer immediately. Apparently, the excitement created by their dance had rather strengthened than diminished during the interval, and she was playing almost nervously with her fan. Miss Pomeroy was not a nervous person as a rule.
{62}
“I don’t know,” she said vaguely. “Yes, it’s very pretty, isn’t it? But I don’t think I should much care to have a big place, do you know. I don’t think places make much difference.”
Her voice was low, and very prettily modulated, and Julian threw a quick sideways glance at her. ”

“ Mrs. Pomeroy looked after Julian with an approving smile. He was a favourite of hers.
“Such a nice fellow,” she murmured amiably; and Mrs. Romayne laughed her pretty, self-conscious laugh.{174}
“So glad you find him so,” she said. “Oh, by-the-bye, dear Mrs. Pomeroy, can you tell me anything about a Mr. Marston Loring? He goes everywhere, doesn’t he? I think I have seen him at your house.”
“Oh, yes,” returned Mrs. Pomeroy, as placidly as ever, but with a decision which indicated that she was giving expression to a popular verdict, not merely to an opinion of her own. ”

“ Romayne gaily. “No? Then you must simply go instantly. The most marvellous thing I ever saw! Go along at once.”
With a laugh Julian turned to Miss Pomeroy. “We must do as we are bidden, of course,” he said. “Will it bore you frightfully?”
A smile and the slightest possible shrug of the shoulders constituted Miss Pomeroy’s answer, and they were turning away together,{59} followed by a keen glance from Loring, when the girl in the contadina dress, passing close to them with her somewhat noisy court, intercepted their passing. ”

“ The next instant Julian stood beside her.
“Don’t turn your back on me,” he implored gaily. “No fellow ever had such hard luck as I’ve had to-night. Be a great deal kinder to me than I seem to deserve, and forgive me. Please!”
Miss Pomeroy turned her head and looked at him with a serene calm on her pretty face, which seemed to relegate him to a place among inferior objects entirely indifferent to her. Her voice was perhaps a little too indifferent.
“Oh, Mr. Romayne!” she said. “You’ve actually appeared!” ”

“ Maud, dear”—Miss Pomeroy had recently become Maud to Mrs. Romayne—“do you see? I really think something might be done in that way.”
Miss Pomeroy, who was standing in front{238} of the stall, a charming and apparently quite inanimate figure in white, assented demurely, and Mrs. Romayne, looking round for a man, caught the eye of Loring. He came to her instantly.
“You’ll do capitally,” she said brightly, and Miss Pomeroy, making no objection to the proceeding, was started forth with Loring, the latter carrying a small stock-in-trade, to emulate Miss Newton and Julian. ”

“ After luncheon I could get no sleep, for Miss Pomeroy was singing things which Cecilia says are camp meeting hymns. They sounded to me like a circus, but they may introduce dance music at church services in New York, and make horses dance to it, too. Anything is possible 94 to a people that can produce girls like Virginia Pomeroy. ”

“ There was a hardly perceptible pause—a hardly perceptible flash of comprehension on Loring’s face, and the vindictive satisfaction in his eyes deepened.
“What makes you ask me that?” he said, in a tone which seemed to fence gravely with the suggestion rather than to repudiate it.
Miss Pomeroy responded with growing conviction.
“Because I’m quite sure that he is married. And, of course, as he doesn’t own it, there must be something—something not nice about it. And it does seem to me so wrong that people should like him so much when he isn’t a bit what they think he is.” ”

“ One blade’s all right, and ’twould be an extra fine article if the other blade was fixed up a bit.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Polly, fervently, as she slipped her two presents into her petticoat pocket, “you’re just as good as you can be. Perhaps I shall come back here to stay, but, anyway, Miss Pomeroy would let me come to see you all, sometimes, I’m sure.”
“I reckon you’ll never come back here,” muttered Uncle Blodgett to the chopping block, “not to stay, if that Pomeroy woman has got eyes and a heart.” ”

“ An access of conventionality, demureness, and insipidity seemed to be inspiring Miss Pomeroy; an access characterised by a certain absolute obstinacy of colourlessness. She had no opinions, no sentiments of any sort or kind to offer; her expressions of regret at leaving were as unmeaning as they were correct. Mrs.{69} Romayne’s plans seemed to wither under her little non-committal smile and comment; and she took her irreproachable leave an hour later with a vaguely expressed hope that they might meet “somewhere,” and apparently without hearing Mrs. Romayne’s parting allusion to Julian. ”

“ Miss Pomeroy was pale, and her usual still{67} placidity seemed to be accentuated into absolute stupidity. Julian’s face was quite colourless, and beneath the travesty of his usual manner which he assumed in speaking to his mother, there was an indefinable expression which made him look ten years older and twenty years harder and more bitter. ”

“ Where’s the little girl’s baggage, Miss Hetty?”
“It’s there in the back of the wagon,” said Miss Pomeroy; “a big black bag.”
“If you please, I can carry it, Miss Arctura,” said Polly, stepping forward to take the bag. “I’m real strong.”
“I want to know,” said Arctura, placidly. “Well, considering how many times as big as you are I am, supposing you let me lug it upstairs for you just this once. I shouldn’t know I was hefting more’n a feather’s weight,” and she swung the bag jauntily as she marched into the house after Miss Pomeroy, gently pushing the little girl before her. ”

“ I dare say you’ll find plenty to amuse you in the house, and you are free to go anywhere. I’m sure I can trust such a careful, quiet little girl as you are.”
When the door that led into Miss Pomeroy’s room across the hall was fairly shut, Polly executed a silent dance on the soft gray and pink carpet.
“I guess Mrs. Manser’d think I was doing pretty well,” said Polly, thrilling with pride. “I never was called ‘quiet’ or ‘careful’ before. She’d hardly believe it. I must be growing like Eleanor pretty fast. As soon as I’ve put away my things I shall lie right down on that bed. ”

“ Pomeroy should say to her, "Eleanor, I love you, and I want you to become my wife," all power of resistance would be taken from her, and that she should have no alternative but to yield. At present she had not yielded, and she would try to keep out of his way for a little while longer. When next he should encounter her, the spear of his love would smite her, and she must needs become his bondswoman for ever. ”

“ Pomeroy can write the letter to-night.’” Here Mrs. Halse’s breath gave out for the moment, and she let her eyes, which had strayed constantly in the direction of Julian and Miss Pomeroy, rest on the young man’s good-looking, well-bred face. “We must have your son among the stewards, Mrs. Romayne,” she said. “So important! Now, I wonder whether it has occurred to you, as it has occurred to me, that a man or two—just a man or two”—with{127} an impressive emphasis on the last word, as though three men would be altogether beside the mark—“would be rather an advantage on the ladies’ committee? ”

“ And on the tone of that first evening, that of the fortnight into which Miss Pomeroy’s stay lengthened itself was modelled. They were very dissipated, Mrs. Romayne asserted laughingly; and she further declared that she had never enjoyed dissipation so much. Julian’s hard-working impulses seemed to be in partial abeyance for the time being; their demands on him, though peremptory when they did occur, did not prevent a great deal of attendance on his mother and her guest. Loring also seemed hardly to have settled back into his usual routine, and frequently made one of the party. ”

“ I believe I shall win it in time.”
“Of course, you will,” said Arctura, stoutly. “I can’t quite make her out sometimes. She’ll seem real gay for a few minutes and then sober down all of a sudden, as if she remembered something. She’s just as anxious to please you as ever a child could be. Do you suppose that Manser woman could have scared her any way? Told her you were set on having her act any particular way, or anything?”
Miss Pomeroy’s life had been singularly apart from the current of village gossip ”

“ We haven’t got time now,” she said, glancing at the clock, “for those cakes have got to come out in a minute, and then I’ll have to fly around; dinner time always gains on me, someway.”
“Do you know anything special I could do to please Miss Pomeroy?” asked Polly, wistfully. “She’s being so good to me.”
“Let’s see,” said Arctura, meditatively. “Why, of course, she wants you to enjoy yourself. I expect she’d be pleased to see you take notice of things like the old shells and so on, and there’s the books; Bobby admired to read, and she always said Eleanor was quite a hand for stories, too. ”

“ Polly had once watched a sunbeam dance on a violet bow in Mrs. Talcott’s bonnet.
“How do you do, my dear?” the visitor had asked, when Miss Pomeroy presented “little Mary Prentiss” to her. “I’m sure I have caught a glimpse of you now and then at church. I believe you don’t go to the Number Three school with my children, do you?”
“I am very well, thank you, ma’am,” said Polly, sedately, though her dimples showed. “Yes’m, I have seen you in church; the sun comes in the gallery window and dances on your bonnet sometimes, just as pretty. ”

“ Miss Pomeroy shook her head.
“Well, there is such a thing as knowing people too well,” said Loring deliberately. “And then you find out little traits that don’t do. To tell you the truth, Romayne and I have quarrelled.”
“I’m glad of that,” said Miss Pomeroy softly.
He looked at her quickly, but he was not quick enough to catch the spiteful gleam in her eyes.
“Would it be inquisitive to enquire why?” he said.
“I don’t think Mr. Romayne is a nice young man,” was the answer. “I would rather people I like——” She broke off in pretty confusion. “I would rather you weren’t a friend of his, Mr. ”

“ Romayne’s eyes at the momentary pause, but there was a certain satisfaction, too, in her smile as the two girls stood face to face. Maud Pomeroy certainly never appeared to greater advantage than in contrast with a pronounced type of the modern society girl. The juxtaposition seemed to bring into strong relief everything about her appearance and demeanour which was dainty, gentle, and sweet, and to throw into shade all her more negative charm. ”

“ Pomeroy in the motor; they said we should get there quicker that way! He meant to drive Miss Pomeroy in the pony chaise, not being at all afraid, he said, of any pony, however spirited. Of course nothing would induce me to enter a pony carriage drawn by that animal again. A motor is more dangerous in some ways, but at any rate it cannot sit down like that pony, and they all assured us that it was both safe and speedy. Mrs. Pomeroy had been quite at ease in it, she said, so at last I consented to go. Cecilia tied on my bonnet with my grey wool shawl, and we set out. ”

“ She has black eyes, and knows how to use them. I don't like dark women; if you must have a woman about, I prefer pink and white—it looks clean, at any rate. The name of these people is Pomeroy, Johnson told me; they 21 appear to have got the hang of mine at Exeter; trust women for that sort of thing.
'Good morning, Sir Archibald,' said Miss Pomeroy now, as pat as you please. 'It's a mighty pretty morning, isn't it? Don't you long for a walk? ”

“ Would not Matthew Kelvin's revenge be far sweeter to him if the woman who had rejected him so contemptuously should marry an adventurer like Pomeroy, who could have no other object than her supposed wealth in trying to win her for his wife, than if she should become the promised bride of Captain Dayrell, who, though he should be told Miss Lloyd's real history at the last moment, might still be chivalrous enough to make her his wife? ”

“ I mean they had burned themselves up! Don’t you like to play any make-believes?”
“Yes, I like some,” admitted the boy, frankly, “but you wouldn’t like my kind, and I call yours pretty slow.”
“What kind of make-believes do you like best?” asked Polly, as she and the dreaded guest sat together in the library at dusk. Miss Pomeroy was entertaining Marm Hackett in the parlor, much to the old woman’s rage, she having desired a talk with the newcomer, for whom she had prepared a list of searching questions.
“I like the kind of make-believes that are in books,” said the boy, staring into the fire. ”

“ Pomeroy that to do as you are told by four or five different people with totally different ends in view is apt to lead to confusion.
Mrs. Romayne fell in with the plan proposed, after an instant’s demur, with smiling alacrity, and the “turn in the Park” that followed was a very gay one. Miss Pomeroy and Julian laughed and talked together—that is to say, Julian laughed and talked in the best of good spirits, and Miss Pomeroy put in just the correct words and pretty smiles which were wanted to keep his conversation in full swing. Mrs. Romayne and Mrs. ”

“ In any case, thus it was that Olive reasoned with herself, and for this reason it was that John Pomeroy's name was never mentioned by her in connection with Miss Lloyd.
"That was a devilish scheme of revenge that you suggested to me one morning in my office! I have had no peace of mind since I agreed to it."
"You talk as a woman might talk. I certainly gave you credit for more strength of purpose," said Olive, with the slightest possible touch of contempt in her voice.
"Strength of purpose has nothing to do with the point in question," he said, harshly. ”