Was It Right to Forgive?, Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr [series like harry potter .txt] 📗

himself. She suffered Harry to kiss the tears off her eyelids and to whisper anew his adoring affection for her.

"Cannot you trust me, Yanna?" he asked. "Cannot you trust me a little while, dearest one?"

"I will trust you, Harry; and you must trust me; for there can be no engagement between us until father is satisfied. Perhaps Antony will explain things in some better way to him."

"No, he will not! Antony is perfectly ferocious on a question relating to any woman's honor. I know that he loves my sister Rose to distraction, and I know equally well that if he ever dares to ask her to be his wife he will do so in the most straightforward, conventional manner. Once when I complained of the strictness of society's rules about women, he said, 'Considering the usual man, society could not make rules too strict.' Antony will not help us by a syllable."

"Then speak to your mother again. Our marriage may be delayed; but our engagement ought to be a recognized one."

"But privately. Cannot we understand each other privately? Look in my eyes, darling, and see my promise there! Give me yours in a kiss."

"Harry, why do you ask me to deceive my father?"

"You love your father better than you love me, Yanna."

She did not answer this accusation in words, though he saw the answer fly into her face; and he was so ashamed of his unreasonableness that he went into the hall and put on his overcoat, and she stood silent, watching him the while. In a few minutes he turned to her with his hat in his hand. "Well, then, Yanna, I am to go away without a promise from you? When may I come again?"

"When you love me with all your heart--when you can put me before every other human being. Please, Harry, say nothing of this event to Rose. Why should we trouble her? And as I have promised to be at Filmer to-morrow morning, it will be best, dear, if you can avoid meeting me. I shall not remain more than an hour or two."

"Very well. I will keep myself out of your way."

"You know what I mean, Harry. Why do you make my meaning worse than it is?"

"Good-bye, Yanna! I am too miserable to split hairs over a meaning."

He was really petted and humiliated, and even a lover in this mood finds it hard to be just and kind. Without another word, he went to the stable for his horse and buggy; and Yanna, watching at the window, saw him drive furiously down the avenue, without giving her any further recognition. For the young man--little accustomed to disappointment of any kind, and still less to a want of personal appreciation--had become angry at his failure. Though he had not permitted himself consciously to make any account of his superior social position, it had influenced his estimate of his probable success; and yet he was forced to acknowledge that his wealth or social position had never been taken into account at all. His acceptance or refusal had hung entirely upon a moral question--the expediency or inexpediency of a secret engagement. Altogether, he felt the situation to have been most unpleasant.

"Nothing has come of it," he thought, "but an assurance of Yanna's love; and what is the use of love that will not sacrifice anything for me?" And as he looked at this question only in its relation to Yanna's sacrificing for him, he did not arrive at any just conception of his own duty in the circumstances.

Mrs. Filmer had been covertly watching for his return; and she was annoyed to find that he went directly to his own apartments, and did not reappear that night. Rose grumbled at his carelessness, and once she went to his door and asked him to come down and look at some of the arrangements; but he refused in the most positive manner. It was altogether a cross, unpleasant evening; the servants were quarreling in every part of the house; Rose was worrying over Harry's indifference; and Mrs. Filmer had a slight sick headache, and said more unkind things than she permitted herself when in good health. Mr. Filmer did not improve the general tone, for he sat quiet, in a provoking mood, watching the burning hickory logs, and listening to the fretful remarks flying between the mistress and her servants, and the mother and her daughter. Their plain speech and honest opinions amused him; and he complacently remarked: "My dear Emma, this little household discussion is very interesting to me. I always have said, 'Let us be sincere and truthful with each other, no matter how unpleasant we may make ourselves.'"

In the morning the storm was over, and there was a clearer atmosphere in the house. But Harry did not appear at the breakfast table. "It is a shame!" said Rose, with great sincerity. "If Harry was against the ball, he ought to have said so at the beginning. I wonder what is the matter with him!"

Mrs. Filmer knew what was the matter, and she privately gave Yanna the blame of all her worries. But for Yanna, Harry would have been enthusiastically busy about all the necessary details which were so annoying to her. She did not love Yanna for her interference; but she was a modern lady, and she was able to keep her dislike to herself. About ten o'clock Yanna arrived at Filmer Hall, and Rose, who had seen her approach, went to the door to meet her.

"Come upstairs, Yanna," she cried. "Come to my room, and I will show you something." She was all impatience and excitement, and Yanna's white face and serious manner did not impress her. With a little flourish, she flung wide the door of her sitting-room, and pointing to a garment lying upon the couch, cried:

"Is not that a dress worth living for, Yanna? It quite expresses me! Look at the opal tints in the silk, and the soft lace, and the pearl trimming! And in the greenhouse, there is the one flower possible to wear with it--a large, soft, feathery, white chrysanthemum! I love chrysanthemums! they give you an impression of poetic melancholy; they have the sadness of an autumn sunset! What do you think of the dress, Yanna?"

"It is beautiful."

"I hope Antony will like me in it."

"He admires you in everything you wear."

"He was not near Filmer yesterday."

"He was in New York."

"Do you know that Harry has become quite ugly about the ball?--every one is talking about the depression in trade; I am sure there is more need to complain about the depression in pleasure--he was eager enough at first about it, but now he thinks the whole subject a bore. Last night he would not even speak to us about it; and this morning he had breakfast in his room, and poor mamma has everything to look after."

"Perhaps he is saving himself for to-night."

"But that is so mean. Men ought to have a few domestic amenities. Miss Polly Barnard says the reformation of men will be the mission of the coming woman. I wish some woman would begin her mission with Harry!"

"Did Miss Polly stay long with you?"

"Only three days. She talked to the servants about saving their money, and improving their minds, and they said she was 'a perfect lady!' A perfect lady is the highest praise servants have for any one they approve. We did not find her perfect. She scolded me about my worldliness, and called me a thoughtless little sinneress." Then suddenly Rose's face fell, and she covered it with her hands, and began to cry.

"Why, Rose, what is the matter?"

"I had such a sad dream last night. I cannot tell it; and I cannot forget it. I wish I could be good, and I cannot be good. We used to have such noble plans for our lives. We meant to be so useful and busy, and I have frittered this summer away in pure idleness. But after this ball is over, I am determined I will do something better with my life than dress and dance, and eat and sleep, and listen to lovers."

"I also have come far short of what I intended, Rose. The summer has gone like a dream, but I feel this morning as if I had awakened from it."

"Well, I have made some good resolutions; and when the time comes, I intend to keep them. To-day, however, is predestined to folly, and I may as well have my share in it. When my conscience pricks me a little I always enjoy my pleasures the most. You know what is said about stolen fruit; it is that kind of a feeling. Why did Antony go to New York? Did he tell you that I had snubbed him the other day?"

"He never talks of you, Rose. Did you go to Mrs. Van Praagh's tea?"

"Unfortunately, I did."

"Was it not pleasant?"

"Do you know the kind of tea, where everybody calls every one else 'dear'?"

Yanna laughed.

"That explains the function. We were all women, and we were all 'dear.' No men were present but Grandfather Praagh and the young Adolphus."

She spoke scornfully, and Yanna said: "I thought you rather admired Adolphus Van Praagh."

"I did, until I met him at various tennis parties. Then I saw that he always wore dingy flannels. Is there anything more levelling in a man's dress than dingy flannels? Now, Harry's tennis suits are fresh, if he puts two suits on every day, to achieve the result. I think Harry is handsome in white flannels. Don't you?"

"Very handsome. Were the Bleeker Van Praaghs there?"

"Of course they were. Van Praaghs always flock together, and have done so, generation after generation."

"I think that is a fine family trait."

"I think so, too--for the family. Personally, I could have wished more of the Milton and Kent and Bannerman element, and less of the Van Praaghs. But I did not remain long. Nelly Milton wore a fetching costume. She said it was a Redfern marvel. I noticed nothing else, but that every one had feather boas round their necks, and that in consequence the doorsteps were strewn with feathers. I hope Antony will come to the ball. Do you think he will dance with me?"

"No."

"But with me? And in that dress!"

"I am sure he will not dance. He would rather lead a 'forlorn hope' or ride a hundred miles after hostile Indians, than go through a dance. It seems, even to me, so absurd to think of men mincing and capering about a room. I could sooner fancy Antony playing 'How Far to Babylon?' with the little children in the street."

"Nevertheless, I shall make him dance."

"I am sure you will not, Rose. Do not try. You will only wound and pain him, and disappoint yourself."

"We shall see."

After some more conversation, they went downstairs to look at the decorations; and greatly to Yanna's surprise, the lunch bell rang; and Mrs. Filmer came through the corridor towards the two girls. She kissed Yanna in her usual manner, and said: "We are going to have a very early lunch, Yanna; stay, and eat it with us."

"I promised father to be home at noon--I did not know it was so late--I must go home at once--I do hope you will have a lovely time to-night--I am sure you ought to have." She was talking with nervous