University of Virginia Library

4. CHAPTER IV.
DELPHINE AND M'GREGOR.

In Mrs. Wilson's parlors Josephine first met the two
persons who were so greatly to influence her after life.
It was the day following their arrival, and Anna had invited
them to tea. Pleading a headache, Josephine did
not make her appearance until evening, thinking her
charms would be greatly enhanced by candle light.

With all the dignity of a queen she swept into the
room, and Anna herself was surprised at the case with
which she returned the salutations of M'Gregor and Delphine.
Seating herself upon a low ottoman, she for a
time seemed unconscious of M'Gregor's presence, but
fixed her eyes curiously upon Delphine, who, she concluded,
was the most polished, lady-like person she had
ever seen. Envy, too, crept in, and mingled with her
admiration, for though she knew Miss Granby was not as
beautiful as herself, there was still a nobleness, an elegance
of appearance about her, which would readily distinguish
her from a thousand.

At length it was Delphine's turn to look, and her bright
hazel eyes fastened upon Josephine, whose face turned
scarlet, for she fancied that the hated words, “milliner,”
“shoemaker,” “gable-roof,” were stamped upon her brow
as legibly as “seamstress,” “companion,” were written
in the tiny note. Delphine was puzzled at Josephine's
confusion, but soon forgetting it, she complied with Anna's
request, and seated herself at the piano.

“Do you play, Miss Clayton?” asked M'Gregor.

“No, sir,” was the reply.

“Nor sing?” he returned.

“Certainly not,” Josephine answered somewhat haughtily.
“If I could sing I should play, of course. They
usually go together.”

M'Gregor was taken aback. He was perfectly bewildered
with Josephine's beauty, although her cool reserve
had slightly disconcerted him; and as he was nothing of a
lady's man, he had tried hard to think of something to
say to her, and now that he said it, 'twas not the thing.
Josephine, however, had scanned him from head to foot,
wig and all, and with Delphine's assertion, “he is rich,”
still ringing in her ears, she had secretly concluded that
he would do, in spite of his awkwardness. Fearing lest
he should question her on other points than music, she
did not wait for him to broach another subject, but did it
herself, by asking about his European tour.

Once during the evening she heard Delphine telling
Anna that on her return home she had stopped for a day
and a night with her cousin Mabel, at Snowdon. In an
instant her brow became crimson; but her fears were
groundless, for not a word was spoken of the “gable-roof,”
and her heart was beginning to beat at its usual
rate, when Delphine added, “By the way, Anna, I must
tell you that at Snowdon I saw my beau ideal.”

“Indeed,” said Anna, and M'Gregor continued: “Oh,
yes, and she has done nothing since but talk of the handsome
student, who is still in his minority.”

“What is his name?” asked Anna.

“Clayton, I believe,” answered M'Gregor, and then
turning to Josephine, he said, “A relative of yours, perhaps!
You remind me of him.”

“I am not aware of his being so, for I have no relations
in Snowdon!” was Josephine's unhesitating answer;
and in the first part of the assertion, she spoke

the truth, for at Jimmy's request, a knowledge of his
studies had been kept from her, and she did not believe
that Jimmy, her homespun brother, could possibly interest
the elegant Miss Granby.

But all doubt on the subject was removed, when, as
Delphine was about to depart, she remarked, “There is
something, too, so romantic about this young Clayton.
His father, as I am told, is a poor shoemaker at Snowdon,
and his son, until recently, has worked with him at his
trade. Just think of it, a learned shoemaker. Of course
he will be a great man;” and she ran gaily down the
steps followed by M'Gregor, horribly jealous of Jimmy
Clayton, two-thirds in love with Josephine Clayton, and
never suspecting the relationship between them.

That night Josephine bitterly repented her falsehood,
for if Delphine Granby could be interested in Jimmy,
knowing his poverty, she really would not scorn his sister;
but 'twas too late to retract, and though she knew that,
sooner or later, her lie would be known, she resolved to
put a bold face upon the matter and make the best of it.
She had never spoken of Snowdon as being the residence
of her parents, consequently Anna had no suspicion that
the student whom Delphine extolled so highly was in any
way connected with her protege.

It would make our story too long to enumerate the
many ways in which Josephine sought to enslave
M'Gregor, who for three weeks lingered at Lockland,
vacillating between Delphine and herself. Josephine
fascinated him, but there was about her something
which bade him beware; and he never would have
thought seriously of her, had not Delphine kindly but
firmly refused the hand he offered her, her mother meantime
wondering what she could object to, for if he was
not quite as polished as some, he was rich, well educated,

and amiable to a fault, or as one of the villagers said,
“wonderful clever.” But it was this very cleverness
which Delphine disliked. Had M'Gregor possessed more
intellect, more energy and decision of character, she
might —, but no, she had seen Jimmy Clayton, and
though she would not own it, either to herself or to
M'Gregor, the remembrance of his high, classical brow,
bright, intelligent eye, and sad, handsome face, influenced
her decision.

After M'Gregor's first mortification was over, he turned
to Josephine, and in the sunshine of her smiles soon forgot
that Delphine had said, “I can never love you;”
but, other than by actions, he did not commit himself, and
when he left Lockland, he was not pledged to Josephine,
who for several days kept her bed, troubling in every
possible way poor Mrs. Wilson, who wondered at her
grand-daughter's fancy in choosing such a companion, as
much as Aunt Sally wondered at my choice of a subject.