Mrs. Willers

“ What was the matter with the girl? Mrs. Willers stated positively that, as far as she could ascertain, there was no man that had the slightest influence over Mariposa Moreau’s affections. She was acting entirely on her own volition. But what had made her change her mind, Mrs. Willers did not know. Something had undoubtedly occurred, she thought, that had influenced Mariposa to a total reversal of opinion. Mrs. Willers said she could not imagine what this was, but it had changed the girl, not only in ambition and point of view, but in character. ”

“ She was now fluttering about in a wrapper, and with a piece of black net tied tight over her forehead. Through this the forms of dark circular curls outlined themselves like silhouettes. Mrs. Willers had no war-paint on, and though she looked a trifle worn, was much more attractive in appearance than when decorated with her pink and white complexion and her spotted veil. Edna, who was already dressed, was a beautiful, fair-haired child of twelve. ”

“ Mariposa’s foot lagged when she heard this. It was such a portentous step from the seclusion of a rose-draped cottage in Santa Barbara, even to this talk of singing before a real impresario. She looked down the vista of Third Street where the façade of The Trumpet office loomed large from humbler neighbors, and Mrs. Willers saw hesitation and fright in her eyes. Like a sensible guardian she slipped her hand through the young girl’s arm and walked her briskly forward, talking of the rare chances life offers to a handicapped humanity. ”

“ A boy, with a sleek, oiled head, sat at a table reading that morning’s issue of The Trumpet. He put it down as Mrs. Willers rose before his vision and nodded familiarly to her. She gave him a quick word of greeting and swept Mariposa forward through a doorway, down a long passage, from which doors opened into tiny rooms with desks and droplights. The girl now and then had glimpses of men seated at the desks, the radiance of the droplights hard on their faces that had been lifted expectantly as their ears caught the interesting rustle of skirts in the corridor. ”

“ She was one of those slightly known and unquestioningly accepted people that women, in the friendless and unknown condition of the Moreaus, constantly meet in the free and easy social life of western cities.
She was a Mrs. Willers, long divorced from a worthless husband, and supporting, with a desperate and gallant courage, herself and her child, who was one of Mariposa’s piano pupils. Her appearance gave no clue to the real force and indomitable bravery of the woman, who, against blows and rebuffs, had fought her way with a smile on her lips. ”

“ The other morning I was sent for to the sanctum. There was a little talk about work and then he says to me, ‘Didn’t you tell me your daughter was taking piano lessons, Mrs. Willers?’ Never forgets a word you say. I told him yes; and he says: ‘Isn’t her teacher that Miss Moreau, whose father died a few months ago in Santa Barbara?’ I told him yes again, and then he wheels round on the swivel chair, looks at me so, from under his eyebrows, and says: ‘I knew her father once; a fine man!’”
“Oh, how odd,” breathed Mariposa, quivering with interest. “I never heard father speak of him.” ”

“ No, sir. You’ve run up against the wrong proposition if you think you can scare a woman into marrying you in California in the nineteenth century.”
Essex rose from his chair. He was pale.
“Look here,” he said in a low voice, “I’ve had enough of this. By what right, I’d like to know, do you dare to dictate to me or interfere in my acquaintance with another lady?”
“I’d dare more than that, Barry Essex,” said Mrs. Willers, with her rouge standing out red on her white face, “to save that girl from a man like you. I don’t know what I wouldn’t dare. ”

“ The man opened them, glanced at the names, and placing the “Mignon” aria on the rack, ran his hands lightly and carelessly over the keys in the opening bars of the accompaniment.
“Whenever the lady is ready,” he said, with an air of patience, as though he had endured this form of persecution until all spirit of revolt was crushed.
Mariposa drew back from him, wondering if she were to sing there and then. Lepine was behind her, and behind him she saw, with a sense of nostalgic loneliness, that the Italian conductor was shepherding Mrs. Willers and Shackleton into two seats on the aisle. ”

“ But there’s a lot that get their beauty out of boxes and bottles. There’s a lot—I don’t say who, I’m not one to mention names—but there’s a lot that when they go to bed the beauty all comes off and lies in layers on the floor. Not that I blame them—make yourself as good-looking as you can, that’s my motto. It’s every woman’s duty. But you don’t want to begin so young. I rouge myself,” said Mrs. Willers, with the careless truthfulness of one whose reputation is beyond attack, “but I don’t like it in a young girl.”
“Who was the prettiest girl at the ball?” said Mariposa, deeply interested. ”

“ Willers was piloting into the sanctum, for he had the curiosity of those who hang on the fringes of the newspaper world.
As the ladies passed him, going toward the stair-head, a young man rose above it, almost colliding with them. Then in the gloom of the dejected gas-jets he stood aside, against the wall, letting them pass out. He wore a long ulster with a turned-up collar. Between the edge of this and the brim of his derby hat, there was the gleam of a pair of eye-glasses and a suggestion of a fair mustache. ”

“ I guess it's all over for this time, Wade. Follow me now, quick. I'm goin' ter give 'em the slip. We'll go clean 'round that hill yonder, an' they won't know whatever become of us, ef they do try to out-trick us."
After skirting the hill in silence, old Peter began again: "That was one good short fight, boy, an' I declare ye air a putty good stayer. Ye kin pull ther trigger 'bout as fast as any Kentuckian as ever fit with me, lessen hit was Rube Willers. I remember one time years ago when I was on t'other side o' ther mountain, when Bill Tulliver's outfit was agin me an' Rube Willers. ”

“ Farr come out from the manor grounds. His cap was drawn down over his eyes, and so lost was he in his own thoughts that he passed me on the other side of the road, and did not even see me. There was something in his whole figure and bearing expressive of disappointment and unhappiness. Oh, you needn't look incredulous," turning her head to scan Helen's face. "A person's carriage is often most expressive."
"I wasn't looking incredulous, Nan, I was only wondering what point you were going to make out of all this."
"That Mr. Farr did go to the manor to say good-by to Jean. ”

“ Many American hearts to-day say tenderly, “God bless Lady Henry!” for she is a sweet spirit, a brave soul, a true woman. It is no exaggeration to say that these two heroic women are chief historic figures in the records of their sex, and while they were needful to each other their united labor was more important for the world’s reforms.
So many arc-lights have been thrown on Miss Willard’s character that it may not be possible to add more to the world’s knowledge of her. ”

“ Almost every evening the young people gathered together on the Lawrences' broad veranda, and to-night was no exception to the rule. When the girls strolled out from the dining room, they found Nan and Emily sitting on the steps.
"Why, we never heard you at all," said Jean. "You 20 must have come over the lawn like—oh dear, I can't think of a comparison. The night is too warm for one to exert one's brain unnecessarily."
Nathalie seated herself on the railing.
"Here come Eleanor and Wendell Churchill."
"Ah!" laughed Jean teasingly. Her sister looked around at her with heightened color. ”

“ The widened horizon and the fame which came to the mother in later years was in turn through her daughter, and thus the centripetal and centrifugal forces united in the shaping of an orbit ever true to its foci, God and humanity. Preserving her mental powers undimmed to the last. Madame Willard died after a brief illness, 7th August, 1892, at the age of nearly eighty-eight years. At her funeral it was said, "She was a reformer by nature. She made the world's cause her own and identified herself with all its fortunes. ”

“ Now, from my artistic pinnacle," tilting her head to one side, and surveying the group with critical, but approving eyes, "I declare I prefer brown hands to white ones."
"By the way," asked Jean, with well-feigned indifference, "what did you think of the naval officers?"
"To return to our muttons," murmured Nathalie, with a sidelong glance at her sister.
"Mr. Dudley was very pleasant and agreeable," replied Emily, "but I thought Mr. Farr rather uninteresting."
"Well," laughed Eleanor demurely, "Nan is right. Everything does depend upon one's point of view. ”

“ The pile of sandwiches grew rapidly under the girls' deft hands, and little Larry, wandering in from the veranda, looked longingly at these interesting preparations.
"Wish I could go with you," he ventured, with sudden courage.
"Don't speak of it," replied Helen emphatically, as she ran out of the room to get a fresh supply of bread.
"Guess you'll all be drownded, anyway," and Larry eyed them with a superior and triumphant mien.
"That's right, my cheerful little brother," laughed Jean. "Always look on the bright side of things." ”

“ With all his heart he wants to come close to some other human, touch someone with his hands, be touched by the hand of another. If he prefers that the other be a woman, that is because he believes that a woman will be gentle, that she will understand. He wants, most of all, understanding.
When the moment of sophistication came to George Willard his mind turned to Helen White, the Winesburg banker's daughter. Always he had been conscious of the girl growing into womanhood as he grew into manhood. ”

“ She has the clairvoyance of high spirituality.
“No woman of America has ever done so remarkable a work as that being done by Frances Willard. There is no question of the fact that she was called of the Lord to consecrate herself to this work. She is so simple, so modest, so eager to put every one else in the best possible light, so utterly forgetful of self, that it requires some attention to realize her vast comprehensiveness of effort and achievement. If ever a woman were in touch with the heavenly forces it is she. Frances Willard is the most remarkable figure of her age.” ”

“ You know how fond I am of Guy, and how keenly I took his disappointment to heart. He loved you so, Helen, and he was so miserable."
"Please spare me, Nan," murmured Helen brokenly.
"I can't spare you, dear. If your mistakes had simply made you suffer, I would never have said a word, but it is not so. Miss Stuart has crossed Jean's path, and for her sake I have spoken."
"If it is true, if I were sure of it, I would want to die."
"Dying would not do any good. Live, and some day it may be in your power to put an end to all this sorrow."
"Nan, are you sure that Mr. Farr is in love with Jean?" ”

“ Their route lay past the summerhouse, and when they were opposite it some pin-prick of conscience made them pause and look within. Jean and Farr were deeply absorbed in conversation, and it was quite apparent, even to their childish minds, that their sister would never notice their absence. Of one accord they broke into a run, and did not subside into a more demure pace until the shrubbery hid them from view.
"You see," said Willie, when he had recovered his breath, "it is the greatest fun to play birds. All we've got to do is to use our arms right, an' then we can fly good enough. ”

“ Miss Beaver stood by her patient's bed, her clear gray eyes full upon young Mrs. Wiley. The nurse experienced a kind of disgust, together with one of those uncomfortable intuitions upon the reliability of which Doctor Parris was always depending. She knew, all at once, that Mrs. Wiley was that strange type of modern woman which makes a cult of personal beauty, taking wifehood lightly and submitting to maternity as infrequently as possible. ”

“ Willard entered the regular college course, which he had nearly completed when hemorrhage of the lungs warned him to seek at once a new environment. The years they spent in Oberlin were happy years to Mrs. Willard. There her youngest child, Mary, was born, the year following their removal thither. Her domestic life was well-ordered, and her three children shared the most devoted love and the most careful training, while her intellectual and social gifts drew to their home a circle of choice friends from among the most cultivated women of Oberlin. ”

“ Why in the world should you worry? Of course I will look after them."
"I know you always do, dear; only I wanted to remind you."
"Well, you need not be anxious. When will you return?"
"To-morrow, I think. You might have the carriage meet the afternoon express. Now I must fly."
Jean caught up the valise, and carried it downstairs, while her sister went to say good-by to Mrs. Dennis.
The carriage was already at the door when Helen came out on the veranda. She stopped a moment to kiss the boys and charge them to be good, and caught Gladys up in her arms. ”

“ Helen stooped down to fulfill their clamorous demand.
"Now, be off," she laughed, straightening herself up and shaking a mildly reproachful finger at them, "and don't forget to go in and say good-night to Auntie," and then she and Nathalie proceeded leisurely on their way.
They found the vine-covered porch of the parsonage quite overflowing with people. Wendell Churchill and Farr stepped hastily forward, and, after an interchange of cordial greetings, found seats for them.
"How late you are," called Nan, from somewhere in the background. "I thought you were not coming." ”