University of Virginia Library

35. CHAPTER XXXV.
DOMESTIC CONSULTATIONS.

ON the afternoon after the croquet party Aunt Maria
Wouvermans and Mrs. Van Arsdel, withdrawn to
the most confidential recess of the house, held
mysterious council.

“Well, Nelly,” said Aunt Maria, “how did you think things
looked yesterday?”

“I thought a crisis was impending, but after all nothing
came. But you see, Maria,” said Mrs. Van Arsdel, “that
girl! she is the most peculiar creature. She wouldn't give
him the least chance; she just held herself away from him.
Two or three times I tried to arrange that they should be
alone together, but she wouldn't. She would keep Susan and
Jane Seaton at her elbow as if they had been glued to her.”

“It was so provoking,” said Aunt Maria, “because all
the Elmores were there watching and whispering. These
Elmores are in such an elated state on account of the wedding
in their family. You'd really think it was a royal
marriage at the very least; and they whisper about and talk
as if we had been trying to catch Sydney and couldn't; that's
what provokes me! they were all on tiptoe watching every
turn, and I did long to be able to come down on them with
an announcement! What ails Eva? Of course she must
mean to have him; no girl at her age would be fool enough
to refuse such an offer; you see she's three-and-twenty.”

“Well, if you'll believe me, Eva actually went and gave
that croquet pin Sydney gave her to Sophie Elmore! I
overheard her urging it on her, and he overheard it too, and
I know he didn't like it; it was so very marked a thing, you
see!”

“Eva gave that pin to Sophie Elmore! The girl is crazy.
She is too provoking for anything! I can't think what it
is, Nelly, makes your girls so singular.”

Mrs. Wouvermans, it will appear, was one of that very
common class of good people who improve every opportunity
to show how very senseless their neighbors are compared
with themselves. The sole and only reason, as might
be gathered from her remarks, why anything disagreeable
happened to anybody, was because they did not do, or had
not done just as she should have done in their circumstances.

Now Mrs. Van Arsdel, though conceding in general that
sister Maria was stronger and brighter than herself, was
somewhat rebellious under the process of having it insisted
in detail that every unfortunate turn of affairs was her fault,
and so she answered with some spirit.

“I don't see that my girls are any more singular than other
people's. Very few mothers have brought up nicer girls
than mine. Everybody says so.”

“And I say, Nelly, they are peculiar,” insisted Mrs.
Wouvermans. “There's Ida going off at her tangent! and
Miss Eva! Well! one thing, it isn't my fault. I've done
the very best I could in instructing them! It must come
from the Van Arsdel side of the house. I'm sure in our
family girls never made so much trouble. We all grew up
sensible, and took the very best offer we had, and were
married and went about our duties without any fuss. Though
of course we never had a chance like this.”

“Now, I shouldn't wonder in the least,” said Mrs. Van
Arsdel, “if Sydney should fly off to Sophie Elmore. It's
evident that she is perfectly infatuated with him! and you
know men's hearts are caught on the rebound very often.”

“Oh, yes,” said Aunt Maria, “I shouldn't wonder, just as
Jerold Macy flew off to Blanche Sinclair, when Edith Enderly
coquetted so with him. He never would have gone to
Blanche in the world if Edith had not thrown him off.
Edith was sorry enough afterward when it was too late to
help it.”

“I declare,” said Mrs. Van Arsdel, “one never knows
what trouble is till one has girls at the marrying age!”

“It's all your own fault,” said Aunt Maria, “you indulge
them too much. For my part,” she continued, “I like the
French way of arranging these things. It ought not to be
left to the choice of a young silly girl. The parents ought
to arrange for her, and then the thing is settled without any
trouble. Of course people of experience in mature life can
choose better for a girl than she can choose for herself! Our
girls in America have too much liberty. If I had daughters
to bring up I should bring them up so that they would never
think of disputing what I told them.”

“So you are always saying, Maria,” said Mrs. Van Arsdel,
“it's quite safe to say what you'll do when you haven't any,
but it's very provoking to me. I only wish you had Ida and
Eva to manage.”

“I only wish I had!” said Aunt Maria. “I should have
had them both well married by this time. There shouldn't
be any of this kind of nonsense that you allow. I'd set down
my foot. I wouldn't have it. My daughters should obey me.
You let them make a perfect nose-of-wax of you. They
treat you in any way they please.”

“You always think so much of yourself, Maria, and whatever
happens you turn round and blame me. I wish to mercy
you'd had children and then you'd see! People who haven't
are always delighted with themselves and always criticising
people who have. If you had a family of children to manage
they'd soon bring you down.”

“Well, Nelly, you'll just see, you'll have a lot of old maids
on your hands, that's all,” said Aunt Maria. “Ida is a gone
case now, and Eva is on the certain road. Girls that are so
difficult and romantic and can't tell their own mind are sure
to make old maids at last. There was Ellen Gilliflower,
and Jane Seabright, they might both have had houses and
horses and carriages of their own if they had taken offers
when they could get them.”

“You know poor Jane lost her lover.”

“To be sure. Well, he was dead, wasn't he? and she
couldn't marry him, but was that any reason why she never
should marry anybody? There was John Smithson would
have put her at the head of one of the best establishments
about New York, and she might have had her own coupé and
horses just as Mrs. Smithson does now. It's all this ridiculous
idea about loving. Why, girls can love anybody they'd
a mind to, and if I had a daughter she should.”

“Oh! I don't know, Maria,” said Mrs. Van Arsdel. “I
think it is a pretty serious thing to force a daughter's affections.”

“Fiddlestick upon affections, Nelly, don't you begin to
talk. It makes me perfectly sick to hear the twaddle about
it. People in good circumstances always like each other
well enough, and any girl can get along with any man that
puts her in a good position and takes good care of her. If
Ida had been made to marry a good man when she first
came out of school she never would have gone off at all these
tangents, and she'd have been a contented woman, and so
would Eva. She ought to be made to marry Wat Sydney,
it is a tempting of Providence to let the thing drag on so.
Now, if Sydney was like Sim Rivington, I wouldn't say a
word. I think Polly's conduct is perfectly abominable, and
if Sim goes on getting drunk and raises a hell upon earth
at home Polly may just have herself to thank for it, for she
was told all about him. She did it with her eyes open, but
Eva's case is different.”

At this moment the door-bell rung, and the waiter
brought in a letter on a silver salver. Both ladies pounced
upon it, and Aunt Maria saying, “It's to you, from Sydney,”
eagerly broke it open and began reading.

“I should think, sister,” said Mrs. Van Arsdel, in an injured
tone, “I might be allowed the first reading of my
own letters.”

“Oh, pshaw, don't be so peevish,” said Aunt Maria,
pushing it petulantly toward her. “If you don't want me
to take any interest in your affairs I'm sure I don't see why

I should. I'll go, and you may manage them yourself.”

“But, Maria,” said poor Mrs. Van Arsdel, apologetically,
“one naturally has the wish to see one's own letters first.”

“Well, mercy on us, child, don't be in a passion about it,”
said Aunt Maria, “you've got your letter, haven't you?
Do read it, and you'll see it's just as I thought. That girl
has offended him with her airs and graces, and he is just on
the point of giving her up.”

“But, you see, he says that he still desires to propose
to her,” said Mrs. Van Arsdel, reading, “only that as her
manner to him is so marked he does not wish to expose
himself to another refusal.”

“Well,” said Aunt Maria, “now you see, Nelly, after all,
that letter leaves the game in Eva's own hands. If now she
will behave herself and let you invite him to an interview
and treat him properly, it can all be settled. The
letter, in fact, amounts to a proposal in form. Now, Nelly,
that girl must be made to behave herself. I wish I could
put some pluck into you; you must be decided with her.”

“It's of no use, sister, you don't know Eva. She's an
easy child to be coaxed, but she has a terrible will of her
own. The only way to manage her is through her affections.
I can't bear to cross her, for she always was a good
child.”

“Well, then, tell her just how critical the state of the
family is. She may have it in her power to save her father
from failure. It may be just life or death with us all.
Put it to her strongly. It would be a pretty thing, indeed,
if instead of being mistress of Clairmont and that place
at Newport, we should all be driven to take second-rate
houses and live like nobodies, just for her foolish fancies.
You ought to frighten her, Nelly. Set it out strongly. Appeal
to her affections.”

“Well, I shall do my best,” said Mrs. Van Arsdel.

“Where is she? let me talk with her,” said Aunt Maria.

“She and Ida are both gone driving in the Park this afternoon,
but after all, sister, I think I had best manage it. I

think I understand Eva better than you do. She would do
more for me than for anybody, I think, for the child is very
affectionate.”

“There can't be anybody else in the case, can there?”
said Aunt Maria. “I began to think it rather imprudent
to have that Henderson round so much, but of late he seems
to have stopped coming.”

“I flatter myself, I managed him,” said Mrs. Van Arsdel,
with complacency. “I gave him a little motherly admonition
that had a wonderful effect. After all it was a duty
I owed to him, poor youth! Eva is wonderfully fascinating,
and I could see he was getting too much interested in
her. I have a regard for him. He is a nice fellow.”

“I intended to have him take Ida,” said Aunt Maria.
“That would have been the proper thing to do.”

“Well, Maria, I should think you might have found
out by this time that everybody in the world isn't going
to walk in the ways you mark out for them.”

“It would be better for them if they would,” said Aunt
Maria. “If I had had the bringing up of your children from
the beginning, Nelly, and you had never interfered, I think
you would have seen results that you never will see now.
It seems mysterious that Providence shouldn't send children
to those best fitted to bring them up. Well, you must
do the best you can. What time is it? Dear me, it is
almost dinner time and I have a new table girl to-day. I
expect she'll have everything topsy-turvey. I'll call round
to-morrow to see how things come on.”