Lady of the Ice (7 page)

In
order to get rid of my vexation, mortification, humiliation, and general aggravation, I allowed Jack to persuade me to go that evening to Colonel Berton's. Not that it needed much persuasion. On the contrary, it was a favorite resort of mine. Both of us were greatly addicted to dropping in upon that hospitable and fascinating household. The girls were among the most lively and genial good fellows that girls could ever be. Old Berton had retired from the army with enough fortune of his own to live in good style, and his girls had it all their own way. They were essentially of the military order. They had all been brought up, so to speak, in the army, and their world did not extend beyond it. There were three of them — Laura, the eldest, beautiful, intelligent, and accomplished, with a strong leaning toward Ritualism; Nina, innocent, childish, and kitten-like; and Louie, the universal favorite, absurd, whimsical, fantastic, a desperate tease, and as pretty and graceful as it is possible for any girl to be. An aunt did the maternal for them, kept house, chaperoned, duennaed, and generally overlooked them. The colonel himself was a fine specimen of the vieux militaire. He loved to talk of the life which he had left behind, and fight his battles over again, and all his thoughts were in the army. But the girls were, of course, the one attraction in his hospitable house. The best of it was, they were all so accustomed to homage, that even the most desperate attentions left them heart-whole, in maiden meditation, fancy free. No danger of overflown sentiment with them. No danger of blighted affections or broken hearts. No nonsense there, my boy. All fair, and pleasant, and open, and above-board, you know. Clear, honest eyes, that looked frankly into yours; fresh, youthful, faces; lithe, elastic figures; merry laughs; sweet smiles; soft, kindly voices, and all that sort of thing. In short, three as kind, gentle, honest, sound, pure, and healthy hearts as ever beat.

The
very atmosphere of this delightful house was soothing, and the presence of these congenial spirits brought a balm to each of us, which healed our wounded hearts. In five minutes Jack was far away out of sight of all his troubles — and in five minutes more I had forgotten all about my late adventure, and the sorrows that had resulted from it.

After a time, Jack gravitated toward Louie, leaving me with Laura, talking mediaevalism. Louie was evidently taking Jack to task, and very energetically too. Fragments of their conversation reached my ears from time to time. She had heard some thing about Mrs. Finnimore, but what it was, and whether she believed it or not, could not be perceived from what she said. Jack fought her off skilfully, and, at last, she made an attack from another quarter.

“Oh, Captain Randolph,” said she, “what a delightful addition we're going to have to our Quebec society!”

“Ah!” said Jack, “what is that?”

“How very innocent! Just as if you are not the one who is most concerned.”

“I?”

“Of course. You. Next to me.”

“I don't understand.”

“Come, now, Captain Randolph, how very ridiculous to pretend to be so ignorant!”

“Ignorant?” said Jack, “ignorant is not the word. I am in Egyptian darkness, I assure you.”

“Egyptian darkness — Egyptian nonsense! Will it help you any if I tell you her name?”

“Her name! Whose name? What ‘her?'”

Louie laughed long and merrily.

“Well,” said she, at length, “for pure, perfect, utter, childlike innocence, commend me to Captain Randolph! And now, sir,” she resumed, “will you answer me one question?”

“Certainly — or one hundred thousand,”

“Well, what do you think of Miss Phillips?”

“I think she is a very delightful person,” said Jack, fluently — “the most delightful I have ever met with, present company excepted.”

“That is to be understood, of course; but what do you think of her coming to live here?”

“Coming to live here!”

“Yes, coming to live here,” repeated Louie, playfully imitating the tone of evident consternation with which Jack spoke.

“What! Miss Phillips?”

“Yes, Miss Phillips.”

“Here?”

“Certainly.”

“Not here in Quebec?”

“Yes, here in Quebec — but I must say that you have missed your calling in life. Why do you not go to New York and make your fortune as an actor? You must take part in our private theatricals the next time we have any.”

“I assure you,” said Jack, “I never was so astonished in my life.”

“How well you counterfeit!” said Louie; “never mind. Allow me to congratulate you. We'll overlook the little piece of acting, and regard rather the delightful fact. Joined once more — ne'er to part — hand to hand — heart to heart — memories sweet — ne'er to fade — all my own — fairest maid! And then your delicious remembrances of Sissiboo.”

“Sissiboo?” gasped Jack.

“Sissiboo,” repeated Louie, with admirable gravity. “Her birth-place, and hence a sacred spot. She used to be called ‘the maid of Sissiboo.' But, in choosing a place to live in, let me warn you against Sissiboo. Take some other place. You've been all over New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. Take Petitcodiac, or Washe Aemoak, or Shubenacadie, or Memramcook, or Rechebucto, or Chiputnecticook, or the Kennebecasis Valley. At the same time, I have my preferences for Piserinco, or Quaco.”

At all this, Jack seemed for a time completely overwhelmed, and sat listening to Louie with a sort of imbecile smile. Her allusion to Miss Phillips evidently troubled him, and, as to her coming to Quebec, he did not know what to say. Louie twitted him for some time longer, but at length he got her away into a corner, where he began a conversation in a low but very earnest tone, which, however, was sufficiently audible to make his remarks understood by all in the room.

And what was he saying?

He was disclaiming all intentions with regard to Miss Phillips.

And Louie was listening quietly!

Perhaps believing him!!

The scamp!!!

And now I noticed that Jack's unhappy tendency to — well, to conciliate ladies — was in full swing.

Didn't I see him, then and there, slyly try to take poor little Louie's hand, utterly forgetful of the disastrous result of a former attempt on what he believed to be that same hand? Didn't I see Louie civilly draw it away, and move her chair farther off from his? Didn't I see him flush up and begin to utter apologies? Didn't I hear Louie begin to talk of operas, and things in general; and soon after, didn't I see her rise and come over to Laura, and Nina, and me, as we were playing dummy? Methinks I did. Oh, Louie! Oh, Jack! Is she destined to be Number Four! or, good Heavens! Number Forty? Why, the man's mad! He engages himself to every girl he sees!

Home again.

Jack was full of Louie.

“Such fun! such life! Did you ever see any thing like her?”

“But the widow, Jack?”

“Hang the widow!”

“Miss Phillips?”

“Bother Miss Phillips!”

“And Number Three?”

Jack's face grew sombre, and he was silent for a time. At length a sudden thought seized him.

“By Jove!” he exclaimed, “I got a letter today, which I haven't opened. Excuse me a moment, old chap.”

So saying, he pulled a letter from his pocket, opened it, and read it.

He told me the contents.

It was from Miss Phillips, and she told her dearest Jack that her father was about moving to Quebec to live.

Such
was the remarkable manner in which Jack Randolph accosted me, as he entered my room on the following day at about midnight. His face was more rueful than ever, and, what was more striking, his clothes and hair seemed neglected. This convinced me more than any thing that he had received some new blow, and that it had struck home.

“You seem hard hit, old man,” said I. “Where is it? Who is it?”

Jack groaned.

“Has Miss Phillips come?”

“No.”

“Is it the widow?”

“No.”

“Number Three?”

Jack shook his head

“Not duns?”

“No.”

“Then I give up.”

“It's Louie,” said Jack, with an expression of face that was as near an approximation to what is called sheepishness as any thing I ever saw.

“Louie?” I repeated.

“Yes — ”

“What of her? What has she been doing? How is it possible? Good Heavens! you haven't — ” I stopped at the fearful suspicion that came to me.

“Yes, I have!” said Jack, sulkily. “I know what you mean. I've proposed to her.”

I started up from the sofa on which I was lounging — my pipe dropped to the ground — a tumbler followed. I struck my clinched fist on the table.

“Randolph!” said I, “this is too much. Confound it, man! are you mad, or are you a villain? What the devil do you mean by trifling with the affections of that little girl? By Heavens! Jack Randolph, if you carry on this game with her, there's not a man in the regiment that won't join to crush you.”

“Pitch in,” said Jack quietly, looking at me at the same time with some thing like approval. “That's the right sort of thing. That's just what I've been saying to myself. I've been swearing like a trooper at myself all the way here. If there's any one on earth that every fellow ought to stand up for, it's little Louie. And now you see the reason why I want you to attend to that little affair of the gravestone.”

At Jack's quiet tone, my excitement subsided. I picked up my pipe again, and thought it over.

“The fact is, Jack,” said I, after about ten minutes of profound smoking, “I think you'll have to carry out that little plan of yours. Sell out as soon as you can, and take Louie with you to a farm in Minnesota.”

“Easier said than done,” said Jack, sententiously.

“Done? why, man, it's easy enough. You can drop the other three, and retire from the scene. That'll save Louie from coming to grief.”

“Yes; but it won't make her come to Minnesota.”

“Why not? She's just the girl to go anywhere with a fellow.”

“But not with Jack Randolph.”

“What humbug are you up to now? I don't understand you.”

“So I see,” said Jack, dryly. “You take it for granted that because I proposed, Louie accepted. Whereas, that didn't happen to be the case. I proposed, but Louie disposed of me pretty effectually.”

“Mittened?” cried I.

“Mittened!” said Jack, solemnly. “Hence the gravestone.”

“But how, in the name of wonder, did that happen?”

“Easily enough. Louie happens to have brains. That's the shortest way to account for her refusal of my very valuable devotions. But I'll tell you all about it, and, after that, we'll decide about the headstone.”

“You see, I went up there this evening, and the other girls were off somewhere, and so Louie and I were alone. The aunt was in the room, but she soon dozed off. Well, we had great larks, no end of fun — she chaffing and twitting me about no end of things, and especially the widow; so, do you know, I told her I had a great mind to tell her how it happened; and excited her curiosity by saying it all originated in a mistake. This, of course, made her wild to know all about it, and so I at last told her the whole thing — the mistake, you know, about the hand, and all that — and my horror. Well, hang me if I didn't think she'd go into fits. I never saw her laugh so much before. As soon as she could speak, she began to remind me of the approaching advent of Miss Phillips, and asked me what I was going to do. She didn't appear to be at all struck by the fact that lay at the bottom of my disclosures; that it was her own hand that had caused the mischief, but went on at a wild rate about my approaching ‘sentimental seesaw,' as she called it, when my whole time would have to be divided between my two fiancées. She remarked that the old proverb called man a pendulum between a smile and a tear, but that I was the first true case of a human pendulum which she had ever seen.

“Now the little scamp was so perfectly fascinating while she was teasing me, that I felt myself overcome with a desperate fondness for her; so, seeing that the old aunt was sound asleep, I blurted out all my feelings. I swore that she was the only — ”

“Oh, omit all that. I know — but what bosh to say to a sensible girl!”

“Well, you know, Louie held her handkerchief to her face, while I was speaking, and I — ass, dolt, and idiot that I was — felt convinced that she was crying. Her frame shook with convulsive shivers, that I took for repressed sobs, I saw the little hand that held the little white handkerchief to her face — the same slender little hand that was the cause of my scrape with Mrs. Finnimore — and, still continuing the confession of my love, I thought I would soothe her grief. I couldn't help it. I was fairly carried away. I reached forward my hand, and tried to take hers, all the time saying no end of spooney things.

“But the moment I touched her hand, she rolled her chair back and snatched it away —

“And then she threw back her head —

“And then there came such a peal of musical laughter, that I swear it's ringing in my ears yet.

“What made it worse was, not merely what she considered the fun of my proposal, but the additional thought that suddenly flashed upon her, that I had just now so absurdly mistaken her emotion. For, confound it all! as I reached out my hand, I said a lot of rubbish, and, among other things, implored her to let me wipe her tears. This was altogether too much. Wipe her tears! And, Heavens and earth, she was shaking to pieces all the time with nothing but laughter. Wipe her tears! Oh, Macrorie! Did you ever hear of such an ass?

“Well, you know she couldn't get over it for ever so long, but laughed no end, while I sat utterly amazed at the extent to which I had made an ass of myself. However, she got over it at last.”

“‘Well,' said I, ‘I hope you feel better.'”

“‘Thanks, yes; but don't get into a temper. Will you promise to answer me one question?'”

“‘Certainly; most happy. If you think it worth while to do any thing else but laugh at me, I ought to feel flattered.'”

“‘Now, that's what I call temper, and you must be above such a thing. After all, I'm only a simple little girl, and you — that is, it was so awfully absurd.'

“And here she seemed about to burst forth afresh. But she didn't.

“‘What I was going to ask,' she began, in a very grave way, ‘what I was going to ask is this, If it is a fair question, how many of these little entanglements do you happen to have just now?'

“‘Oh, Louie!' I began, in mournful and reproachful tones.

“‘Oh don't, don't,'” she cried, covering her face, “‘don't begin; I can't stand it. If you only knew how absurd you look when you are sentimental. You are always so funny, you know; and, when you try to be solemn, it looks so awfully ridiculous! Now, don't — I really cannot stand it. Please — ple-e-e-e-e-ease don't, like a good Captain Randolph.'

“At this she clasped her hands and looked at me with such a grotesque expression of mock entreaty, that I knocked under, and burst out laughing.

“She at once settled herself comfortably in her easy-chair.

“‘Now that's what I call,' said she, placidly, ‘a nice, good, sensible, old-fashioned Captain Randolph, that everybody loves, and in whose affairs all his innumerable friends take a deep interest. And now let me ask my question again: How many?'

“‘How many what?' said I.”

“‘Oh, you know very well.'

“‘How can I know, when you won't say what you mean?'

“‘How many entanglements?'

“‘Entanglements?'

“‘Yes. Engagements, if you wish me to be so very explicit.'

“‘What nonsense! Why you know all about it, and the cause — '

“‘Ah, now, that is not frank; it isn't friendly or honest,' said the little witch. ‘Come, now. Are there as many as — as — fifty?'

“‘Nonsense!'

“‘Twenty, then?'

‘“How absurd!'

“‘Ten?'

“‘Of course not.'

“‘Five?'

“‘No.'

“‘Four?'

“‘Why, haven't I told you all?'

“‘Four,' she persisted.

“‘No —'

“‘Three, then — '

“‘It isn't fair,' said I, ‘ to press a fellow this way.'

“‘Three?' she repeated.

“I was silent. I'm not very quick, and was trying, in a dazed way, to turn it off.

“‘Three!' she cried. ‘Three! I knew it. Oh, tell me all about it. Oh, do tell me! Oh, do — please tell me all. Oh, do, ple-e-e-e-ease tell me.'

“And then she began, and she teased and she coaxed, and coaxed and teased, until at last — ”

Jack hesitated.

“Well,” said I.

“Well,” said he.

“You didn't really tell her,” said I.

“Yes, but I did,” said he.

“You didn't — you couldn't.”

“I'll be hanged if I didn't!”

“Not about Number Three?”

“Yes, Number Three,” said Jack, looking at me with a fixed and slightly stony stare.

Words were useless, and I sought expression for my feelings in the more emphatic whistle, which now was largely protracted.

“And how did she take it?” I asked, at length, as soon as I found voice to speak.

“As usual. Teased me, no end. Alluded to my recent proposal. Asked me if I had intended her to be Number Four, and declared her belief that I had thirty rather than three. Finally, the aunt walked up, and wanted to know what we were laughing at. Whereupon Louie said that she was laughing at a ridiculous story of mine, about an Indian juggler who could keep three oranges in the air at the same time.

“‘Captain Randolph,' said she, ‘you know all about Frederick the Great, of course?'

“‘Of course,' I said, ‘and Alexander the Great also, and Julius Caesar, and Nebuchadnezzar, as the poet says.'

“‘Perhaps you remember,' said Louie, in a grave tone, for her aunt was wide awake now, ‘that the peculiar excellence of the genius of that great monarch consisted in his successful efforts to encounter the coalition raised against him. Though subject to the attacks of the three united powers of France, Austria, and Russia, he was still able to repel them, and finally rescued himself from destruction. Three assailants could not overpower him, and surely others may take courage from his example.'

“And after that little speech I came away, and here I am.”

For some time we sat in silence. Jack did not seem to expect any remarks from me, but appeared to be rapt in his own thoughts. For my part, I had nothing whatever to say, and soon became equally rapt in my meditations.

And what were they about?

What? Why, the usual subject which had filled my mind for the past few days — my adventure on the river, and my mysterious companion. Mysterious though she was, she was evidently a lady, and, though I could not be sure about her face, I yet could feel sure that she was beautiful. So very romantic an adventure had an unusual charm, and this charm was heightened to a wonderful degree by the mystery of her sudden and utter disappearance.

And now, since Jack had been so very confidential with me, I determined to return that confidence, and impart my secret to him. Perhaps he could help me. At any rate, he was the only person to whom I could think of telling it.

So you see —