University of Virginia Library

22. CHAPTER XXII.
IS HE A GENTLEMAN?

The days and weeks that followed were to Dennis such
as only come once in a lifetime, and not in every lifetime
either. A true, pure love was growing up within his heart
—growing as the little child developes in strength and
pleasurable life, and yet unconsciously to itself. It seemed
as if some strong magician's wand had touched the world
or him. Everything was transfigured, and no wonder-land
was more full of interest than that in which he existed.
His life was a waking dream, in which nothing was distinct
or definite, but all things abounded in hope and happy
suggestion. He compared them afterwards to a tropical
island of the Pacific, a blissful fragment of life by itself,
utterly distinct from the hard struggling years that preceded,
and the painful awakening that followed.

Even the place of his daily toil was pervaded by a
beautiful presence. For many days he and Christine
worked together, and at last her eyes had rested on, and
her fingers touched nearly everything in the store, and
therefore all was associated with her. Throughout their
labors his quick sympathy and appreciation, made him almost
hands and feet to her, and she regarded him as a
miracle of helpfulness—one of those humble, useful creatures
who was born to wait upon and interpret the wishes
of the rich and great. His admiring glances disturbed

her not, nor raised any suspicion in her mind—she had
been accustomed to these for years, and took them as a
matter of course.

She treated the young men whom she met in society
with a courtly ease and freedom, but her smiles and repartee
ever seemed like brilliant moonlight that had no
warmth; and while no restraint appeared, she still kept all
at a distance. There was a marked difference in her intercourse
with Dennis.

Regarding him as too humble to ever presume upon
her frankness, she daily spoke more freely, and more truly
acted out herself before him. She was happy and in her element
among the beautiful works of art they were arranging,
and in this atmosphere her womanly nature, chilled
and dwarfed though it was, would often manifest itself in
ways as sweet as unexpected. Under no other circumstances
could she have appeared as well. She as often
spoke to herself in racy comment on what was before her,
as to Dennis, and ever and anon would make some pleasant
remark to him, as she might throw a dainty morsel to
her greyhound, Wolf, as he looked wistfully at her while
she dined. At the same time it must be confessed that
she had a growing respect for him, as she daily saw some
new proof of intelligence and taste but both education
and disposition inclined her instinctively to the old feudal
idea that even genius, if poor, must wait a humble servitor
on wealth and rank, and where a New England girl would
have been saying to herself “This gifted, educated man is
my equal, and whether I want to or not, I ought to treat
him as such,” she was not troubled at all. To her, he was
her father's clerk and man-of-all-work, a most useful, trusted
and agreeable servant, and as such she was kind to
him, as the little Autocrat was to every one that pleased
her. She was a benign queen to obedient subjects, but
woe unto them if otherwise.

To Dennis, however, though he realized it not, she was
becoming as the very apple of his eye. He was learning
to regard her with a deeper interest because of the very
defects that he plainly recognized. While on the one hand
he had the enthusiastic love of admiration, on the other
he felt the tenderer and greater love of pity. He tried to
account for his feelings toward her by the usual sophistries
of unconscious lovers. It was friendship; it was artistic
interest in her beauty; it was the absorbing unselfish
regard of a Christian for one providentially and specially
commended to him to lead out of darkness into light.
How could he help thinking of one for whom he prayed
night and morning and every hour in the day? It was all
this, but he was soon to learn that it was a great deal more.
And so the days of work and companionship passed; the
spell worked on with increasing and bewildering power,
and the crisis could not be delayed much longer.

One morning, the latter part of April, she seemed more
gracious than usual. Their labors were drawing to a close,
and as he had proved so tasteful and efficient in the store,
she concluded that he might be equally useful in other
ways and places. She could command him at the store, but
not in respect to a task that she had in view; so she adopted
a little feminine artifice as old as the time that Eve handed
Adam the apple, and looked at him in such a way that he
could not refuse.

Blind honest Dennis of course saw nothing of this little
strategy of which he was destined to be the happy willing
victim, and his love expanded and bloomed under the
genial light of her presence and kindness like the flowers
of the convolvulus in a bright dawn of June. She brought
her general graciousness to a definite and blissful climax
by saying when about to leave—

“Well, Mr. Fleet, you have done better than usual to-day,
and I certainly must give you credit for possessing
more taste than any young man of my acquaintance.”

Dennis's heart gave as great a bound as if the laurel
crown of all the Olympic games had been placed upon his
brow.

“I am now going to ask a favor,” she continued.

“You may command me, Miss Ludolph,” interrupted
Dennis.

“No, not in this case,” she replied, “Whatever you
do will be regarded as a personal favor to me. At the same
time it will afford you scope for such display of your taste
as will secure many compliments.”

“If I am able to satisfy you I shall be more than compensated,”
said Dennis with a bow.

She smiled and thought to herself, “That isn't bad for
Pat Murphy's successor,” and explained as follows:

Some young ladies and gentlemen have decided upon
giving a rare and elegant entertainment, consisting of music,
tableaux, and statuary. Now in regard to the two latter
parts, we need above all things some person of taste
like yourself, whose critical eye and dexterous hand will
ensure every thing to be just right. You will be a sort of
general stage manager and superintendent, you know. I
feel sure you will be all the more willing to enter upon this
work when you know that the proceeds are to go towards
the Church of the Holy Virgin. This is going to be a
very select affair, and the tickets are five dollars each.

“Is it a Protestant church?” asked Dennis in some
trepidation.

“O certainly,” she answered with a peculiar smile, “an
Episcopal church.”

“It seems a strange name for a Protestant church,”
said Dennis. “It is enough for me that you wish it; at
the same time it certainly is a pleasure to contribute what
little I can towards any Christian organization.”

“Come, Mr. Fleet, you are narrow,” she said with a
controversial twinkle in her eye. “Why not towards a
Catholic church?”

“I fear that all people with decided religious opinions
are sometimes regarded as narrow,” he answered with a
smile.

“That is an inadequate answer to my question,” she
said, “but I will not find fault since you have so good-naturedly
acceded to my request. Come to No. — Wabash
avenue at three this afternoon. Papa gives you a leave of
absence.”

She vanished, and figuratively the sun went down to
Dennis, and he was in twilight till he should see her again.
He looked forward to the afternoon with almost feverish
eagerness, for several reasons. It would be his first introduction
to “good society,” for as such the unsophisticated
youth regarded his invitation. He had the natural longing
of a young, healthful nature for companionship of those
of his own age and culture, and his life in the great city
had often been very lonely. He expected to be treated
as an equal as a matter of course, at the artistic entertainment
in which he was to participate. In his business relations
at the store he had taken a subordinate position
and made up his mind to the logical consequences. But
now that he was invited to a private house, and would appear
there possessing all the qualities of a gentleman, he
surely would be treated as one.

“Is not this Chicago, where nearly all its citizens were
poor a few years ago?” he thought; “and surely if what
Miss Ludolph says is true, I have advantages in my taste
over most poor young men.”

Moreover it was his ideal of an entertainment, where
art and music should take the place of the coarser pleasures
of eating, drinking, and dancing.

Chief of all, Christine would be there, and even he in
his blindness became a little uneasy and self-conscious as
he realized how this thought towered above the others.

She had given him a list of the things he was to bring

with him in the afternoon, and he occupied every spare
moment in getting them ready. At quarter past two he
summoned the carman of the store and they loaded up
the miscellaneous cargo needed for the coming mysteries,
and by three, all were before the large elegant mansion to
which he had been directed. Dennis rang the bell and
was shown by a servant into the front parlor, where he
found Miss Ludolph, Miss Brown, a tall, haughty brunette
and the young lady of the house, Miss Winthrop, a bright,
sunny faced blonde, and two or three other young ladies
of no special coloring in character, being indebted mainly
to their toilets for their attractions.

Dennis bowed to Miss Ludolph, and then turned toward
the other ladies as if expecting as a matter of course
to be introduced. No introduction came, but his expectant
manner was so obvious, that Miss Ludolph colored,
looked annoyed, and the young ladies tittered outright.

Advancing a step or two she said coldly, “Mr. Fleet,
you may help Mapes carry the things into the back parlor,
and then we will direct you as to the arrangement.”

Dennis crimsoned painfully. At first he was too confused
to think, and merely obeyed mechanically. Then
came the impulse to say boldly that this kind of thing might
answer at the store, but not here, and he nearly carried it
out: but soon followed the sober second thought that such
action would bring a blight over all his prospects, and involve
the loss of his position at the store. Such giving
way to passion would injure only himself. They would
laugh, and merely suffer a momentary annoyance; to him
and his the result would be most disastrous. Why should
he let those who cared not a jot for him cause such sad
injury?

By the time he had carried his first armful into the
back parlor, he had resolved for his mother and sisters'
sakes that he would go through the following scenes as

well as he could, and then turn his back on society till he
could enter it a recognized gentleman; and with compressed
lips and flashing eye he mentally vowed that that
day should soon come.

As he was unpacking his materials he could not help
hearing the conversation in the front parlor.

“Did you ever see such presumption?” exclaimed
Miss Brown. “He evidently expected to be introduced,
and that we should rise and courtesy all around.”

“He must have seen better days, for he certainly appeared
like a gentleman,” said Miss Winthrop.

“I should hardly give that title to a man who swept a
store out every morning,” replied Miss Brown.

“No indeed!” chorused the three colorless young
ladies.

“I know nothing about this young man,” said Miss
Winthrop ruffling her plumage somewhat for an argument,
of which she was fond, “but as a case in hand, suppose
a highly educated and refined man for some reason swept
a store out every morning—what would you call him?”
And she looked around as if she had given a poser.

The colorless young ladies looked blank—their natural
expression.

“Nonsense,” said the positive Miss Brown, “such
men don't sweep stores. He may have passed current in
some country village, but that is not our set.”

“But the case is certainly supposable,” retorted Miss
Winthrop, more intent upon her argument than Dennis.
“Come, what does the Countess say?” she asked, turning
to Christine, for that was the familiar name by which she
went among her young companions.

“The case is not supposable, but actual,” she answered,
so distinctly that it seemed that she meant Dennis to hear.
“As far as I have any means of judging he is a refined,
educated man, and I have learned from papa that his

motive in sweeping the store is the support of his mother
and sisters—certainly a very worthy one. To your question,
Susie, I answer unhesitatingly that in accordance with
your American principles and professions he is a gentleman,
and you ought to treat him as such. But you Americans
are sometimes wonderfully inconsistent, and there is
often a marvellously wide margin between your boasted
equality and the reality. Now in Europe these questions
have been settled for ages, and birth and rank define a
person's position accurately.”

“I neither boast nor believe in equality,” said Miss
Brown with a toss of her head. (Her father was a mighty
brewer, but he and his were in character and antecedents
something like the froth on their own beer. All they had
and were had but recently come out of the hops.)

Miss Winthrop was a little embarrassed at finding her
supposable case a real one, for it might involve some practical
action on her part. Many an ardent advocate of the
people in theory practically give them the cold shoulder,
and are content to stay on the summit of Mt. Olympus.
She was a girl of good impulses and strong convictions of
abstract right, but never had either the courage or much
opportunity to carry them out. She was of the old Boston
family of Winthrops, and therefore could meet Miss Ludolph
on her own ground in the way of pedigree.

But however Dennis fared she felt that she must look
after her argument, and having conquered theoretically as
far as America was concerned, determined to carry war
into Europe, so she said—

“Are you not mistaken in saying that birth and rank
only settle position abroad? Some of the most honored
names there, are or were untitled.”

“O certainly, but they were persons of great genius,
and genius is the highest patent of nobility. But I leave
you republicans to settle this question to suit yourselves.

I am going to look after the preparations for this evening,
as I have set my heart on a success that shall ring through
the city.”

But they all flocked after her into the back parlor, now
doubly interesting as it contained an object of curiosity
in Dennis Fleet—a veritable gentleman who swept a store.