A Little Girl of Long Ago, Amanda Minnie Douglas [the kiss of deception read online .txt] 📗

housekeeping and sewing, and fit myself for a minister's wife. That seems so solemn, doesn't it? Oh, I do wonder if I can be good enough! And visiting the poor, and helping to the right way, and being patient and sweet, and real religious! But he will help me; and he is so good! I think he couldn't have been anything but a minister. I _do_ suppose Mrs. Reed knows about it in heaven. She was so different that last year, sweeter and kinder; and we feel sure she has gone to heaven. But we want her to know; and dear little Tudie! You must come over and spend the day, now that school is ended; and we will do nothing but talk about it. Oh, Hanny, I hope some day you will have a lover! But you seem such a sort of a little girl even yet. And I have worn long skirts a whole year."

A lover! Hanny's face was scarlet in the fragrant dusk.

"We must go in. I promised mother we would not stay late. And Charlie has some examinations for to-morrow. You may tell your mother and Daisy Jasper."

Joe said they needn't hurry off so; and Charles flushed as he looked at Josie. They rose and said good-night; and Josie kissed Hanny in a rapturous kind of fashion.

"I'll bet a sixpence those two youngsters are engaged," said Jim. "Hanny, what was all the long talk about?"

She was not quite sure all the rest were to be taken in the confidence; but she looked so conscious, and Jim was so positive, that she admitted the fact.

"That's just like a theological student."

"It is a very suitable engagement. Mrs. Dean has brought Josie up sensibly; and Charles is such a fine fellow. Of course they must all be pleased about it," commented Mrs. Underhill.


CHAPTER XX

MISS NAN UNDERHILL

Just a few days later, Mrs. Odell came down for some advice and help, for Janey was to be married. Her betrothed was a well-to-do young farmer up in Sullivan County. He was coming down in August to go to the World's Fair; and he wanted to be married and make a general holiday of it.

"I am not much judge of such matters; but Stephen's wife will go shopping with you. I don't know what we should do without her," said Mrs. Underhill.

That very morning two silver-embossed envelopes came for Miss Nan Underhill. One schoolmate was to be married in church at noon, and go to Niagara on a wedding journey. The other was an evening ceremony with a reception afterward. Mr. James Underhill had an invitation to this also.

Was all the world getting married, or being engaged! Standing on the threshold, Hanny shrank back in dismay. It was looking out of a tranquil cloister into a great, unknown world; and it gave her a mysterious shiver. She didn't feel safe and warm until she had dropped on her father's knee, and had his strong, fond arms about her.

Dolly's party was a great success. The young people were invited to meet Miss Nan Underhill. And Miss Nan wore her graduation dress and blue ribbons. Blue gave her a sort of ethereal look; pink added a kind of blossomy sweetness.

Dolly knew so many young folks. True, there were some older ones. Ben and Delia came up for an hour. Dolly said they were old-fashioned married people already. Hanny thought there didn't seem much difference, only Ben had a new strange sort of sweetness. She was very fond of Delia; and it was a delight to feel free to go down to Beach Street.

Peter and Paulus Beekman came; and they were nice, fine, rather stout young men. Peter was a lawyer; he and Jim were quite friends. Paulus was in shipping business.

"Oh," said Peter to Nan, "you look just as you did when you were a little girl and used to come to grandfather's. Do you remember that beautiful Angora cat? That was grandfather's sign. He always took to people Katschina liked. And your hair hasn't grown any darker. I like light hair. Aunt Dolly has such beautiful hair! And I'm glad you have not grown up into a great, tall May-pole. I just adore little women. When I marry, I am going to choose a 'bonnie wee thing,' like the wife in the song."

Hanny flushed rosy red. Oh, why would people talk about being married, and all that? And if Peter wouldn't look at her in just that way! It gave her a touch of embarrassment.

But oh, they had a splendid time! Modern young people would have been bored, and voted it "no spread at all." They played Proverbs, and What is my thought like? and everybody tried to bring out their very best, and be as bright and witty and joyous as possible. They had plain cake and fancy cake, and a new kind of dainty crisp crackers; candies, nuts, raisins, and mottoes, which were the greatest fun of all. Afterward, some dancing with the Cheat quadrille, and it was so amusing to "cut out," or run away and leave your partner with his open arms, and a blank look of surprise on his face.

Doctor Joe came to take the little girl home; for he was quite sure Jim would want to take some one else's sister.

"Aunt Dolly," said Peter, when he was going away without any girl at all, though he had hoped to walk home with Hanny, "isn't Nan Underhill just the sweetest little thing in the world? I don't wonder grandfather liked her so. With that soft, indescribable hair, and her eyes,--twilight eyes, some one put in a poem,--and that cunning dimple when she smiles, and so dainty altogether. What made you say she was not pretty?"

"Why, I said, she was not as handsome as Mrs. Hoffman."

"She suits me ten times better. She is like this,


"'A creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food.'"


Dolly repeated the talk and the verses to Stephen. "And Peter is such a solid, steady-going fellow. He was really smitten."

"The idea! And with that child!"

Dolly laughed gaily. "I suppose when our girls get to be eighteen, you will still think them children. Why, I wasn't quite fifty when you fell in love with me!"

Fifty! How ridiculous it was to think of Dolly ever being fifty. Ah, it is love alone that holds the secret of eternal youth!

"Well, I hope there won't any one be foolish over Hanny, in a long while," said Stephen, decisively.

"Foolish!" repeated Dolly, in a tone of resentment. But then they both laughed.

The Odell girls came down to make a two days' visit. They went up to the Deans' to tea; and the two engaged girls strayed off by themselves, with their arms about each other, and had confidences in which the masculine pronoun played an important part. And poor Polly bewailed the prospect of being left alone. If she had a brother like Jim, she wouldn't mind.

Jim's girls were a kind of standing amusement to the family. This was a case where there was safety in numbers, Mrs. Underhill felt assured. If she had known of the episode of Lily Ludlow, her confidence would have been a little shaken. Jim was a general lover of the sex, and a good-looking, entertaining young fellow is apt to be spoiled.

Just now he had a penchant for Daisy, who teased him, and was as uncertain as an April shower. She and Hanny were inseparables. Jim took them round to Dolly's, or down to Ben's, or to Mrs. Hoffman, who had a new grand piano, and had refurnished her parlor, quite changing the simplicity of her first wedded life. Through the winter, she had given fortnightly receptions, that had an air and grace of the highest refinement. You always met some of the best and the most entertaining people. It was not a crush and a jam; but men and women really talked at that period, and brought out their best. Knowledge was not at a discount.

Young ladies came to call on Miss Underhill; and in the evenings, they brought their brothers or admirers. When she knew of it beforehand, she always had Daisy to help. Sometimes the whole party would go out for a little walk, and have some cream or water ices. The city was still so airy and open, you did not have to fly out of it at the first pleasant day.

This summer, nearly everybody was staying at home, and waiting for the big fair to open. Rooms at hotels and private houses were engaged; and the plainer country people came in to visit. There would be crowds, of course.

The Underhills had invited some of the elder relatives, since they had plenty of room.

And on July 4th, this great event occurred. The President, Mr. Franklin Pierce at that time, was the grand master of the occasion. Oh, what a Fourth of July it was! The grounds were crowded. The military were out in force; and the fireworks would have done credit to the empire of China. Never had the city seen such a gala time; the Victory of Peace it was called.

The men had it largely to themselves this day. It was more the ceremonies, than the articles exhibited, that attracted attention. That came later on.

There was a great influx of visitors in the city. The streets were thronged; the stages were crowded. One wonders what they did without electric cars. But numbers of people still kept carriages, and temporary lodging-houses were erected in the vicinity of the Palace. It certainly was a great thing for that day. And the interior, with its handsome dome, its galleries, its arched naves, and broad aisles, had a striking and splendid effect.

And, oh, the riches of the world that had contributed some of its choicest treasures! There were many people who never expected to go to Europe, and who were glad beyond measure to have it come to them. Here was the largest collection of paintings and sculpture that had ever been gathered in New York. Then, for the first time, we saw Powers' matchless Greek slave, and Kiss' Amazon, and many another famous marble. There was the row of the Apostles by the sculptor Thorwaldsen, about which there was always a concourse of people; and some of the devout could almost see them in the flesh.

We have had a Centennial since, and a famous White City, and almost any day, in New York, you can see some famous pictures and statuary. Then people run over to Europe, and study up the galleries, and write books of exquisite descriptions; but it was not so at that time. There is the grand Museum of Art near to where the old Palace stood; but all was new then. We had not been surfeited with beauty; we had not had a flood of art critics, praising or denouncing, and schools of this or that fad. It is good for cities, as well as nations, that they should once be young, and revel in the enchanting sense of freshness and delight.

Presently, it became a sort of regular thing to go,--a kind of summer-day excursion. There were delightful walks and drives up above. Bloomingdale was still a garden of sweetness. Riverside was unknown, only as the beautiful bank of the Hudson. You went and carried your lunch, or you found some simple cottage, where a country-woman dispensed truly home-made bread, and delicious ham, and a glass of milk,