Mrs. Potter

“ Potter, coming back from his thoughts; “I always enjoy myself, and I find that other people do the same.” Then he again relapsed into meditation.
“Isn’t he just as horrid as can be?” raged Frances, inwardly. “He believes just because some women think him clever, and because men like him, and because he’s a good business man, and because mama’s always praising him to his face, as she would any one who was papa’s partner, that he is perfect. And no matter how you try to snub him, he is so conceited that he won’t see it. ”

“ Potter reluctantly. “You'd be ashamed to ask for jam if you hadn't. If you had a wife and she was any account you'd have bread and jam when boys come to see you. But I do pity the woman that gets you, Peter Lane! No woman on this earth but a widow that has had experience with men-folks could ever make anything out of you.” ”

“ Potter hastened back to Downs. “Did those papers name Herman von Essen?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“He is dead.... I found him dead on his library floor. That girl was his daughter—she’s going to be my wife.”
“I understand. You’re entitled to some reward, Mr. Waite, and this is a small one. No one shall ever know. His record will be clean.”
“Thank you,” Potter said. “I’m tired.... Good night.”
“Good night,” said the Secret Service man, and he stood looking after Potter until the young man disappeared up the stairs. “That,” he said to himself, “is America....” ”

“ Have you no sense—to be seen in public with this man whose picture is in the papers? For a girl to be with him is to lose her reputation.... And you”—he turned on Potter furiously—“take your car out of my grounds. Never speak with my daughter again. Do you hear? You are a drunken young ruffian.” He launched himself into a tirade of great circumstantiality.
Potter’s eyes were dark with the brooding expression which his friends counted a signal of danger, but he remained motionless, save to turn toward Hildegarde.
“I am sorry, Miss von Essen,” he said. ”

“ Potter, not to bring it. One moment," as he saw Mrs. Potter's face assume a look of anger. "His disappearance has been reported to the police. They tried to keep it quiet, but it was impossible in the case of a man of Mr. Potter's standing. Our paper—the Leader—knows of it. In a short time it will be known to every paper in New York. I think it would be wise for you to meet the situation, and give me whatever information you can. We will only be too glad to help you locate your husband, and I believe there is no better way than by newspaper publicity, even the police will tell you that. ”

“ He seems very intelligent and agreeable; I suppose you have met him, Mrs. Potter?"
"Oh, yes; he was introduced to me the first week I was here," replied Mrs. Potter. "He seems to me to be a Southern gentleman with a good deal of real Yankee shrewdness."
[Pg 51]
"That is my opinion, also," said Mr. Drysdale, "and if he buys Bristed's place, he will join me in some improvements which are much needed."
"Well, good afternoon, Mrs. Drysdale," said Mrs. Potter; "I am going out horseback riding in a day or two, and perhaps I will stop here a few minutes on my way back." ”

“ Some say she has a friend at the Post Office; others, that she owes much to her ayah’s circle at the bazaar, or that Joe Potter, her husband, has his ear to the ground in the city—where he is a vague ‘something.’ They live in a fine bungalow in Secunderabad, but have no claim to any social standing. All the same, Mrs. Potter goes everywhere; her card is filled the moment she appears at a dance, she is never ‘left out’ of any entertainment, and people propitiate her with craven attentions. ”

“ Potter, with a smile. “You don't get a chance like that every day.”
He filled Uncle Gussie's glass for him, and that gentleman at once raised it and proposed the health of the young couple. “If anything was to 'appen to break it off now,” he said, with a swift glance at his sister, “they'd be miserable for life, I can see that.”
“Miserable for ever,” assented Mr. Potter, in a sepulchral voice, as he squeezed the hand of Miss Spriggs under the table.
“It's the only thing worth 'aving—love,” continued Mr. Price, watching his brother-in-law out of the corner of his eye. “Money is nothing.” ”

“ Although Lord Potter was the dirtiest of the dirty, and held a high position among the men of the set, I heard afterwards that he was not popular among the ladies, not only because of his arrogance, but because, being a most eligible bachelor, he had omitted to marry so many of their daughters. ”

“ Lucas. "My consceounce alive, I wush I may never stir agin, ef I didn't 'spect ter find you all starved ter death."
Potter looked up with a broad smile, and attempted to make some sort of a pleasant reply, but had no sooner said "madam" than the old woman, using an illustration afterward employed by Alf, "fairly fluttered." "Oh don't call me er madam," she exclaimed. "Gracious knows I didn't come all the way over here ter be madamed. When a man calls a woman madam, he thinks he's done the biggest sorter day's work. Now thar's Jeff grin [Pg 84] nin' jest like er 'possum. ”

“ Oh, Mr. Potter, how I wush I wuz at de house drinkin' butter milk. Lawd, yo' ole servant wushes you'd strike deze pant'ers wid lightnin'. Oh, Lawd, I'd ruther die den ter be killed by er pant'er."
The panthers stood gazing at them.
Potter's pallor was gone, and on his face there rested an expression of resignation. "If they intend to do anything," said he, "I wish they would not put it off any longer. This delay is awful."
"Oh, doan say dat, Mr. Potter; oh, sweet Mr. Potter, doan say dat. Doan make no sich subjestions ter 'em, fur doan you see da's jes' waitin' fur dar mines ter git made up. ”

“ A woman and a girl stepped into the room. John and Potter sprang up with the quick impulse of courtesy's sudden demand, and offered them seats. Alf put down his fiddle, and bowing, gave the visitors a grinning welcome.
"Where are your women folks?" the elder visitor inquired.
"We have none, madam," Potter replied, "except this girl, the daughter of this old——"
"Servant o' the Lawd," Alf interjected.
"This servant of the Lord," Potter smilingly repeated, "who assists us in tending our crop, and who is——"
"Erbout de bes' cook in dis yere neighborhood," Alf again broke in. ”

“ Briggles. “The sheriffs deputy is in the office here; he has been looking for you.”
“Oh, that's all right!” said Peter. “You can tell Joe I've gone on up to the jail,” and he drew his arm away and went on down to the street. Mrs. Potter called after him.
“Peter Lane! Peter!” she called, but Peter had hurried away. Buddy raised his head suddenly and looked up into Mrs. Potter's face.
“I know who you are,” he said fearlessly. “You 're Aunt Jane.”
“No, child,” said Mrs. Potter, “I ain't anybody's aunt. I'm just a worthless old creature.” ”

“ Major Potter was out of the way, I would make twain of the widow, merely for the love her children bear me." Here he jerked the reins and bade old Battle, who was giving strong proof of the quality of his wind, quicken his pace. "However, as it is wicked to contemplate matrimony with a wife on hand, I must console myself with having cleared in the trade with her and the fishmonger, at least two dollars and forty cents. The chickens are not what she takes them for. ”

“ Under that momentary glamour forgetfulness took possession of them.
“She said,” recalled Potter, “that was the first time she had been thoroughly happy and secure.”
He ruminated on, connecting this sudden, vivid pleasure of hers, this mood of safety and surrender, with the deadening outcome they now faced. His own fear had never left him since that night—that one night, for it had had no sequel. Now he interpreted the event fatalistically. Nature had waited for that happy mood of Ellen’s before making her a mother. Nature was a subtle monster, a thing of scheming purposes. ”

“ Potter; we shall be delighted to see you. Good afternoon."
On Mrs. Potter's return to the hotel, she stayed in the parlor for some time, and as Mr. Andrews came in soon after, they had a pleasant tete-a-tete before going to dinner.
The next morning Mr. Andrews went out to get a cabinet-maker to make a small book-case for his room, and the hotel clerk directed him to the shop of Mr. Breed. The latter said that he was very busy, indeed, but that he could get a young man who was boarding with him to do the job.
"Is he a good workman?" asked Mr. Andrews. ”

“ It was at this moment that, turning into the main road, they beheld a dusty chaise approaching at a smart trot, whereupon, the way being somewhat narrow, Mr. Potter pulled aside to make room; but scarcely had he done so than a cheery voice hailed him, the chaise pulled up, and out from the window came a bewigged head.
“Why, Potter—George Potter,” cried a merry voice. “God bless ye, George; ’tis very well met! And my friend Hosea too! How art thou, my Aged Soul? I vow thou’rt looking younger than ever!”
“Lord, Sir John!” exclaimed Mr. Potter heartily, “I be main glad to see ye back, sir.” ”

“ I said. “There is never smoke without fire. Mrs. Potter has some grounds for her story,” and sitting up and grasping my fan tightly in both hands, I turned towards him and continued with my usual volubility. I described the visit of the Hayes-Billingtons; her extraordinary beauty and charm, my aunt’s fascination and temptation; how Mrs. Hayes-Billington and I had come out together in the Asphodel. ”

“ Potter was indeed, as he had told me, a peaceable and law-abiding citizen, a man of—not brilliant, but very good abilities, not an orator, but a most sensible and persuasive talker, a studious and dutiful worker, of unflinching courage in the right, and a fine chivalrous character that inspired everyone with confidence and good-will—in short such a man as you would like to have for a co-worker, a neighbors and a friend. ”

“ Miss Meyers don’t feel that she can play on Wednesday nights. And there ought to be somebody to start the hymns. Mrs. Potter is getting old, and she always starts them too high. It won’t take much of your time, and it will keep people from talking. ”

“ Potter replied. "You are an excellent shot, I suppose?"
"Wall, I mout not hit er pin-head, but I reckon I could hit er steer."
"Mr. Potter," said Alf, as he stood over the fire frying the turkey breast, "wush I had axed you ter fetch de ole man some fiddle strings."
"Well, if I didn't bring you some I [Pg 44] hope, as John's aunt would say, 'I may never stir agin.' Here they are."
"Wall, fo' greshus, ef you ain't de thoughtfules' white man I eber seed. Thankee, sah, thankee. Man mus' almos' be 'spired ter think erbout ever'thing diser way. ”

“ Potter smiled back, forced himself to cast off the mood, compelled his mind away from Cantor. It was a thing not easy to accomplish. Every time he headed his thoughts away from the man they dodged around and approached from a new angle. He set his teeth and plunged into conversation with Eldredge. It was not an intelligent conversation, and more than once, when Potter gave vague replies or forgot to reply at all, Jack wondered what had gotten into his friend.... He was thinking now of Hildegarde von Essen—thinking bitter, unsavory thoughts. ”

“ His mother smiled at his disgust. "Nay, child, thy face has the man in it most plainly written. There is in it what women love—and it is of this that I would speak.
"Excepting myself, Charmides, you have known no woman well; and the feeling of a man for his mother is never his feeling for any other of her sex. Woman's nature is as yet, I think, closed to your understanding. In this long journey upon which you are faring forth, I do not doubt that you will encounter women, more than one, who will seek you for the beauty of your face. For women love beauty in men, as men desire it in them. ”

“ The look on your face one sees only once a lifetime. It is youth, and—innocence, I think. How old are you? Oh, pardon! I am absurdly thoughtless! But you look so young!"
"I am eighteen," responded Deborah at once.
"And I—nineteen. Beside you I appear thirty. It is because I have lived here for three years. Ah! How I have been bored!"
"It must have been very lonely all the summer. But now, with Monsieur the Marshal returned, it will be better." ”

“ One was a thin, rather angular but not uncomely instructress in the art classes, who had come from New York and the Art Students’ League. Potter never probed her jolly, untroubled character very deeply, but she had a firm pencil stroke that he admired, and after a few talks with her he discovered that she breathed a freer air than the folk at Athens. To his fraternity brothers she was a frump, socially impossible. ”

“ Miss Potter lived through a Roman winter with her nose perpetually tilted in chronic disgust; but she was delighted with the carnival, and with the admiration her own neat little person evoked, as she tripped about the dirty streets, with her gown pinned high, and a petticoat short enough to show slim ankles in green silk stockings. She admitted that the churches were handsomer than any she had seen in London, but vowed they were all alike, and that she would not know St. ”

“ Potter passed on with his nose in the air, but when he had gone another two or three steps, turned round and said to Mr. Perry: "You have had a lucky escape, sir. Your method of life is bringing you down pretty low, and if you are wise you will give up all this nonsense, and return to the quite respectable class in which you were born." ”

“ They started on their burdensome and solemn march, and must have gone two miles, when Alf said:
"We mout ez well put him down now an' rest erwhile."
"No," replied Potter; "let us hurry on so that a physician may be summoned."
"Dar ain't no use'n er doctor," said Alf. "De man is dun dead."
So he was. They put down the stretcher. The sounds of hoofs attracted their attention.
"Yonder comes Mrs. Forest," said John.
"Yes," replied Potter, "and I will meet [Pg 122] her and guide her away from this awful sight."
"You are the very man I want to see," cried Mrs. ”