 | Chapter 7 A Fancy of Hers |  |
Chapter 7
A few evenings later, at Mrs. Pratt's house, Mabel met an individual of whom she had frequently heard since her arrival in Granville. This was Mr. Randolph Chester, a bachelor from New York, who generally passed part of the summer in the village. He was reputed to be rich, and, though his wealth was exaggerated, he actually had enough to support a single man in comfort and even luxury. Though a bachelor, he allowed it to be understood that he was in the matrimonial market, and thus received no little attention from maneuvering mothers, single ladies of uncertain age, and blooming maidens who were willing to overlook disparity in age for the sake of the wealth and position which it was understood Mr. Chester would be able to give them.
Why did Mr. Randolph Chester (he liked to be called by his full name) summer in Granville when he might have gone to Bar Harbor or Newport? Because at these places of resort he would have been nobody, while in a small New Hampshire village he was a great man. In Granville he felt, though in this he was perhaps mistaken, that he could marry any of the village belles to whom he chose to hold out his finger, and this consciousness was flattering.
On his arrival at the hotel, where he had a special room reserved for him summer after summer, he was told of the new school teacher, a young, beautiful, and accomplished girl from New York.
"If I like her looks," thought he to himself, "I may marry her. Of course she's poor, of she wouldn't be teaching here for the paltry wages of a country school mistress, and she'll be glad enough to accept me."
When he was introduced to her Mabel saw before her a middle aged man, carefully dressed, passably good looking, and evidently very well pleased with himself. On his part, he was somewhat dazzled by the school teacher's attractions.
"Why, the girl has actual style," he said to himself. "Egad, she would appear to advantage in a New York drawing room. I wonder if she's heard about me."
He felt doubtful on this point, for Mabel received him with well bred indifference. He missed the little flutter of gratified vanity which the attentions of such an eligible parti usually produced in the young ladies of Granville.
"I believe you are from New York, my own city," he said complacently.
"I have passed some time there."
"You must — ahem! — find a considerable difference between the city and this village."
Undoubtedly, Mr. Chester. I find it a pleasant relief to be here."
"To be sure. So do I. I enjoy leaving the gay saloons of New York for the green glades of the country."
"I can't say," returned Mabel mischievously, "that I know much about the saloons of New York."
"Of course I mean the saloons of fashion — the shining circles of gay society," said Mr. Chester hastily, half suspecting that she was laughing at him. "Do you know the Livingstons, Miss Frost?"
"There is a baker of that name on Sixth Avenue, I believe," said Mabel innocently. "Do You mean his family?"
"No, certainly not," said Mr. Randolph Chester, quite shocked at the idea. "I haven't the honor of knowing any baker on Sixth Avenue."
Neither had Mabel, but she had fully made up her mind to tease Mr. Randolph Chester, whose self conceit she instinctively divined.
"Then you don't live on Sixth Avenue," she continued. "I wonder where I got that impression!"
"Certainly not," said Mr. Chester, scandalized. "I have apartments on Madison Avenue."
"I know where it is," said Mabel.
"She can't move in any sort of society, and yet where on earth did she get that air of distinction?" Randolph Chester reflected. "Do you like school teaching?" he asked in a patronizing tone.
"I find it pleasant."
"I wonder you do not procure a position in the city, where you could obtain higher wages."
"Do you think I could?" asked Mabel.
"My friend, Mr. Livingston, is one of the School Commissioners," said Mr. Chester. "I can mention your name to him, and you might stand a chance to obtain the next vacancy."
"Thank you, Mr. Chester, you are exceedingly kind, but I don't think that I wish to become a candidate at present,"
"But you are really throwing away your talents in a small country village like this."
"I don't think so," said Mabel. "I find many of my scholars pretty intelligent, and it is a real pleasure to guide them."
"Mr. Randolph Chester, you mustn't try to lure away Miss Frost. We can't spare her," said Mrs. Pratt.
"You see, Mr. Chester, that I am appreciated here," said Mabel. "In the city I might not be."
"I think," said the bachelor gallantly, "that you would be appreciated anywhere."
"Thank you, Mr. Chester," returned Mabel, receiving the compliment without seeming at all overpowered by it; "but you see you speak from a very short acquaintance."
Mr. Randolph Chester was piqued. He felt that his attentions were not estimated at their real value. The school mistress could not understand what an eligible parti he was.
"Do you propose to remain here after the summer is over, Miss Frost?" he asked.
"My plans are quite undecided," said Mabel.
"I suppose she isn't sure whether she can secure the school for the fall term," thought the bachelor.
There was a piano in the room, recently purchased for Carrie Pratt, Mrs. Pratt's daughter.
"I wonder whether she plays," thought Mr. Chester. "Will you give us some music, Miss Frost?" he asked.
"If you desire it. What is your taste?"
"Do you know any operatic airs?"
"A few; and Mabel began with an air from La Sonnambula." She played with a dash and execution which Mr. Chester recognized, though he only pretended to like opera because it was fashionable.
"Bravo!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands in affected ecstasy. "Really you are an excellent player. I suppose you have attended the opera?"
"Occasionally," said Mabel.
"And you like music? But I need not ask."
"Oh, yes, I like music. It is one of my greatest pleasures."
"You would make a very successful music teacher, I should judge. I should think you would prefer it to teaching a country school."
"I like music too well to teach it. I am afraid that I should find it drudgery to initiate beginners."
"There may be something in that."
"Do you sing, Miss Frost?" asked Mrs. Pratt.
"Sometimes."
"Will you sing something, to oblige me?"
"Certainly, Mrs. Pratt. What would you like?"
"I like ballad music. I am afraid my ear is not sufficiently trained to like operatic airs, such as Mr. Randolph Chester admires."
After a brief prelude Mabel sang an old ballad. Her voice was very flexible, and was not wanting in strength. It was very easy to see that it had been carefully cultivated.
Mr. Chester was more and more surprised and charmed. "That girl is quite out of place here," he said to himself. "Any commonplace girl would do for the Granville school mistress. She deserves a more brilliant position."
He surveyed Mabel critically, but could find no fault with her appearance. She was beautiful, accomplished, and had a distinguished air. Even if she were related to the baker's family on Sixth Avenue, as he thought quite probable, she was fitted to adorn the "saloons of fashion," as he called them.
"I rather think I will marry her," he thought. "I don't believe I can do better. She is poor, to be sure, but I have enough for both, and can raise her to my own position in society."
Fortunately Mabel did not know what was passing through the mind of the antiquated beau, as, she regarded him, who amused her by his complacent consciousness of his superiority. When it was ten o'clock, she rose to go.
"It won't do to be dissipated, Mrs. Pratt," she said. "I must be going home."
"Permit me to escort you, Miss Frost," said Mr. Chester, rising with alacrity.
She hesitated, but could think of no reason for declining, and they walked together to Mrs. Kent's. The distance was' short — too short, Mr. Chester thought, but there was no way of lengthening it.
"I hope to have the pleasure of meeting you again soon, Miss Frost," said the bachelor at parting.
Mabel responded in suitable terms, and Mr. Randolph Chester went back to the hotel in quite a flutter of excitement. The staid bachelor was as nearly in love as such a well regulated person could be.
The next evening Mabel spent in writing a letter to Mary Bridgman, part of which it may be well to quote.
"You," she said, "are the only person in my confidence, the only one who knows of my present whereabouts. You will, I feel sure, be glad to know that my experiment is proving to be a success. I believe I have inspired in my pupils a real and earnest interest in study. It gives me genuine pleasure to see their minds unfolding and expanding, day by day, and to feel that I am doing an important part in guiding them in this intellectual growth. I can assure you that I get more satisfaction and exhilaration from the life I am leading now than I found in my last summer's round of amusements at Newport.
"When will it end? How long will this fit of enthusiasm last? If you ask these questions, I cannot tell you. Let time decide.
"You have heard, I suppose, of Mr. Randolph Chester, the elderly bachelor who favors Granville with his presence every summer. I made his acquaintance yesterday, while calling upon Mrs. Pratt. His air of condescension on being introduced to the school teacher was very amusing. He was evidently disappointed by my indifference, and seemed piqued by it. When I was asked to play I determined to produce an impression upon him, and I did my best. Mr. Chester seemed surprised to find a country school mistress so accomplished. He recommended me to become a music teacher and offered to assist me to obtain a position in the city, professing to regard me worthy of a larger field than Granville affords. He offered his escort home, and I accepted.
"Today Mr. Chester did me the great honor of visiting my school. He professed a great interest in the subject of education, but I learn, on inquiry, that he has never before visited the school. I suggested to him that Miss Bassett would be glad to receive a call; but he shrugged his shoulders and did not welcome the proposal. I felt a malicious satisfaction in introducing him publicly to my scholars as one who took a strong interest in them, and announced that he would address them. My visitor started, blushed, and looked embarrassed, but retreat was impossible. He made a halting speech, chiefly consisting of congratulations to the scholars upon having so accomplished and capable a teacher. On the whole he rather turned the tables upon me.
"It is quite in the line of possibility
| Chapter 7 A Fancy of Hers | |