University of Virginia Library

12. CHAPTER XII.
THE TWO MAIDENS.

We now return to Frederica. It will be remembered that she had promised
James Daily to comply with his request, and, in person, take home the
bonnet, which she had, unknowingly, made and trimmed for Grace, and also
be the bearer of a note from him to Mr. Weldon, excusing his absence from
the counting-room, on account of indisposition; the nature of which indisposition,
he did not, however, explain in his note.

It was about nine o'clock, the morning following that eventful night in
which all the events and incidents related in the foregoing eleven chapters,
took place, that Miss Weldon was standing in the drawing-room window of
her father's stately mansion on Summer street, gazing forth without any definite
object before her eyes. She was clad very simply, in a white morning
dress, that finely displayed her noble figure. Her soft brown hair was laid
plainly back from her brow, and bound in a rich knot of shining braids low
in her neck. She was paler than usual, and there was an expression of
anxious thought upon her countenance, for she had not yet ceased to think
of her rencounter with the burglar the evening before, which, though at the
time she carried boldly through, yet now made her tremble even at the
recollection of her danger. The house, too, was in some confusion, which
would account for her anxiety of look, two officers having just left it, after

she had given to them, in her father's presence, a description of the burglar's
appearance.

`You have deserved all the praise the officer bestowed on your courage
and self-possession, Grace,' said Mr. Weldon, entering with a paper in his
hand, from the rear room, and advancing towards her with a parental smile
of approbation.

`I felt that presence of mind alone would avail me, his appearance was so
murderous. I have not slept for dreaming of him!'

`If you had not chanced to have seen him, it might have been impossible
to recover the plate; but your description of him, both last night after you
alarmed us by entering the parlor and making known the robbery, thus giving
me an opportunity of sending to the Police, and to the officers that left
just now, will doubtless enable me to recover it; for they say they know
who the man is from your description, as surely as if they had also seen him
take it!'

`I am glad I have been of service, father; but I confess,' she added,
smiling, `that I should rather not have met him. But I will banish the matter
from my thoughts.'

`That is the best way. Here is an advertisement I have penned, offering
a reward of fifty dollars for the recovery of the plate! I shall send it to
the newspaper after I go to the counting-room. You are still looking very
sad and restless! Are you not well, child? I fear this adventure has affected
your nerves.'

`No sir. I am quite well.'

`I am glad you are. You must not dwell upon it, for you are not wont
to be a weak-hearted girl! But good by, my child! I hope to find you in
better spirits at dinner!'

The merchant affectionately kissed the forehead of his lovely daughter,
and left the room. Grace was by no means weak-hearted. Her sadness
did not altogether proceed from nervousness. She had looked from the window
after the burglar had sprung out, when she saw, on the opposite side of
the street, a person she believed to be James. She saw him pursue the
man, and listening, heard, a few moments afterwards, as she thought, the
sound of a far distant struggle. She had expected James that night to serenade
her, and converse awhile with her through the trellised leaf-drapery
of the window, as he had often done before, not clandestinely, to conceal
their interview, but because it was pleasant thus to talk with each other, the
lover remaining outside leaning upon the window, the maiden within, bending
her ear to listen to his low tones of love and fealty. He had not made
his appearance after she had thought she discovered him, and therefore she
was now tortured with anxiety lest some evil had befallen him, if he had
striven to stay the burglar's retreat. A dozen times she had it upon her
lips during the morning, to tell her father the true cause of her anxiety; but
the natural reserve of a young girl to confess even to a father, her interest
in a lover, restrained her. In going to the counting-room he usually passed
the house, and half an hour earlier than now; but she had been at the window,
save when called away a few minutes to speak with the officers, when
she left a little sister watching, for more than that time, and yet had not seen
him pass.

`It is foolish, I know, to feel so, and I dare say I am nervous; but I am
persuaded that James would have returned and informed us of what he had
seen, unless he had been overpowered; for that a struggle took place between

some persons soon after they went down the place, I am convinced!
and that it was James I saw I am sure, for otherwise he would have been
here! This suspense is painful! If I knew where his mother lived, I
would go there and inquire for him.'

Grace did not know that the shop she entered, and where she spoke for a
hat, was kept by his mother; indeed, she did not ask the name, but pleased
with the beauty and taste of Frederica, and with the hats which she had
made, she engaged her to make one for her. It is doubtful if Miss Weldon
knew that James's mother kept a milliner's shop, though she was quite well
aware she was in humble life, and followed some respectable pursuit. People
in large cities do not know about each other's affairs as in small towns. Grace
had never asked him, perhaps from a feeling of delicacy, what was her mode
of living, and he had never spoken to her of his mother, save to say that he
loved her very tenderly, and meant some day Grace should see her and
know her. He had also spoken of a young friend he wished she should
know, meaning Frederica. Miss Weldon had, moreover, it will be remembered,
been absent at Troy for the most part of her girlhood, and it was
only during the past two or three months that the intimacy formed in the innocence
and faith of childhood, between her and James, had been renewed
under the banners of young Cupid. She had been out but little since her
return, and therefore it is not surprising she should be a stranger to circumstances,
which at first sight it would seem surprising that she was not familiar
with. This explains, also, her not having known Frederica, and why
her face, to the latter, was that of a total stranger.

Grace had hardly finished speaking, when her eyes were attracted by a
young girl of exquisite symmetry of figure, which a small shawl did not
hide, a green veil over her face, and carrying in her hand a band-box, who
with a hesitating step seemed to be examining the house. Grace thought
the form familiar to her and was trying to recollect where she had seen it,
when the young person put aside her veil, and looked earnestly at the name
on the door, for as there was a wide portico intervening, the plate was several
feet distant, and the letters upon it small. She stepped nigher and nigher,
as she tried to make it out, and yet without having noticed Grace at the
window, who had instantly recognized the sweet countenance of the bonnet-girl,
and was now observing her with interested attention.

Frederica having satisfied herself that the name was `Weldon,' upon the
plate, ascended the steps of the portico to ring the bell, while Grace, with
the exclamation to her sister, `little Lizzy,' now a little Hebe of thirteen
years, who at that moment entered the room, of `my new hat, sister!' almost
ran into the hall, to anticipate the footman's duty in opening the street door.

`You are very kind, to bring it yourself,' she said to Frederica; `I did
not mean you should be put to this trouble.'

`Oh, it is a pleasure to me,' said Frederica, lifting her large blue eyes up
to the beautiful face of Miss Weldon, and wondering at her beauty, while
the latter gazed with deep admiration upon the heavenly countenance of the
fair bonnet-girl. Their eyes met, and Frederica blushed and looked confused
and sorrowful, while Grace laughed good humoredly, and said,

`Come in, Frederica, which I think you said is your name. Come in,
and see me try on my hat. I know it is very beautiful, and I want you to
see how it becomes me. It will gratify you, I know, to witness the effect of
your own taste!'

Frederica entered with a gentle step and downcast eyes, for her heart was

heavy, she knew not why; only she wished Grace was less lovely and fascinating,
or else, being lovely as she was, James had never seen her! But
she hoped he loved her not, and this hope buoyed her up.

She followed Grace through a stately and wide hall, hung with pictures,
adorned with busts and statues in niches, and a spacious and elegant stair-way,
winding from its extremity. Passing the foot of it, Grace led her into
the family parlor, a room richly furnished, but more with an eye to comfort
and ease than luxury.

`Sit down, dear child,' said Grace, `you must be fatigued.'

Frederica seated herself in a velvet-covered arm-chair, while Grace
opened the band-box and drew forth the hat. It was, indeed, as the reader
knows, for we have described it already, a beautiful creation of the lovely
bonnet-girl's taste.

`What a love of a hat!' exclaimed Miss Weldon, holding it up to view,
turning it round and admiring it with that manner and look with which a
pretty woman always admires a new and tasteful hat! A new pair of gloves,
a new dress, a new shawl, are each admired and commented upon, each in
its way, and as each deserves. But a hat — a new hat — a fashionable hat,
and especially such a hat as Grace now held elevated at the end of her
graceful arm! a pretty woman has for it a look all its own — gratified,
coquettish, wistful, smiling, triumphant! — a look indescribable, but such as
alone she bestows upon `a love of a hat!'

Frederica could not help being gratified at her praise, and she raised her
large azure eyes and smiled acknowledgment. Grace was struck by the
constrained, grieving expression that the sweet smile she gave her struggled
with, and she turned her gaze from the bonnet to fix it with sympathizing
curiosity upon her countenance. Frederica understood this look, and fearing
she should betray her emotions, she strove to throw off the heavy feeling
that lay like lead at her heart; a feeling, not jealousy exactly, for Frederica
was too benevolent and good to be jealous, but it was its shadow passing
across the bright mirror of hope which lay at the bottom of her heart,
and wherein, till of late, had been reflected, undimmed by a single doubt,
the face of James Daily!

She succeeded in overcoming her feelings, and rising, offered to assist
Grace in trying on the hat. Grace accepted her aid with a smile, and when
the hat was on, she stood before the glass to admire — which shall we say,
the hat or her own beautiful features beneath? This is a question for the
ladies; for none can so well decide whether it be the hat or the face that
is looked at when a bonnet is tried on. Hats in windows do not usually attract
so much attention as hats on, overshadowing a bright pair of eyes, and
reflected from a French, full-length mirror.

But, however it be, it is very certain that the hat did not look like the
same hat on her head, and seen in the mirror. If it was `a love of a hat'
before, it was `a bewitching hat' now! and Grace, too, never looked lovelier
than with it on! Here rises a second question, whether it was the hat that
increased the beauty of the face under it, or the face under it that lent
beauty to the hat. This we leave to be decided in the proper court, which
is held spring and autumn, in sessions of six weeks or more, at White's elegant
bonnet-saloons.

`There can be nothing prettier,' said Grace, after having sufficiently admired
the effect, turning round to poor Frederica, who trembled with fear to
behold her so beautiful and

erica! No less lovely herself than Grace, she knew not she was so —
thought not of any charms she possessed that could win and hold him she
loved, save the strength, and purity, and single-hearted devotedness of her
love.

But Grace, handsome as she was, when she caught a glimpse over her
shoulder, in the glass, of the face of the young bonnet-girl, had a thought
come into her heart—for lovers think with their hearts — that she would
not like to have her for a rival!

`You have made this bonnet very perfect,' said she, looking in her face
with gentle interest.

`You are very good to be pleased with it,' she answered, modestly.

`Is the person who keeps the shop your mother?' asked Grace.

`Oh, no, I have no parents.'

Grace looked sad, and laying down the bonnet, she took Frederica's hand,
and said, with indescribable kindness of tone and look,

`I feel very sorry for you, very! Is the lady kind?'

`She is like my mother. I know no difference.'

`What is your name besides Frederica?'

`It used to be Frederica Kauphen.'

`Used to be?' repeated Grace, feeling at each word she spoke a growing
interest in the lovely girl.

`Yes, but I now write it Frederica Daily, which is my kind foster-mother's
name.'

`Is Daily the name of your foster-mother?' cried Grace, with an emotion
of surprise, while she slowly released her hand.

`Yes, Miss; but I have remained too long,' said Frederica, fearing and
trembling lest any thing more should be asked, for she saw the deep surprise
with which Grace heard Mrs. Daily's name.

`Not yet,' she said, gently detaining her. `Has Mrs. Daily —'

Miss Weldon checked herself. She would have asked `if she had a son
James.' But a feeling of womanly delicacy arrested the inquiry on her lips.
But she fixed her eyes on the pale, interesting face of the young girl, with
a look of inquiry, of doubt, of pain! Frederica had opened the door, when
she recollected James's note.

`I had forgotten,' she said, without raising her eyes. And without speaking
a word further, she placed the note in her hand, and left the room, and
hurried, lest she should be recalled, to pass forth into the street.