University of Virginia Library

34. CHAPTER XXXIV.
HOW MISS SALLIANNA ALLUDED TO VIPERS, AND FELL INTO
HYSTERICS.

Verty paused upon the threshold of the mansion to push back
his long, curling hair; and with a glance behind him, toward
Cloud, meant as a caution to that intelligent animal and to Longears,
deposited his rifle against the door.

The young man, as we have said, had once more donned his
rude forest costume; and even at the risk of appearing to undervalue
the graces and attractions of civilization with the costume,
which is a necessary part thereof, we must say that the change
was an improvement. Verty's figure, in the dress which he generally
wore, was full of picturesqueness and wild interest. He
looked like a youthful Leather-stocking; and seemed to be a part
of the forest in which he lived, and from which he came.

He had been cramped in the rich clothes; and the consciousness
of this feeling, so to speak, had made his manner stiff and
unnatural; now, however, he was forest Verty again. His long
hair had already become tangled, thanks to the autumn winds,
and the gallop to which he had pushed Cloud;—his person assumed
its habitual attitude of wild grace; his eye no longer restless
and troubled, had recovered its expression of dreamy mobility,
and his lips were wreathed with the odd Indian smile, which
just allowed the ends of the white teeth to thread them;—Verty
was himself again.

He raised his head, and would have caught sight of the young

girls in the garden, but for a circumstance which occurred just at
that moment.

This circumstance was the appearance of Miss Sallianna—
Miss Sallianna arrayed in all her beauties and attractions, including
a huge breastpin, a dress of enormous pattern, and a scarf
around her delicate waist, azure-hued and diaphanous like the sky,
veiled with an imperceptible cloud.

The lady was smiling more than ever; her air was more languishing;
her head inclined farther to one side. Such was her
ecstacy of “inward contemplation,” to use her favorite phrase,
that the weight of thought bent down her yellow eye-lashes and
clouded her languishing eyes.

She raised them, however, and glancing at Verty, started.

“Good-morning, ma'am,” said Verty—“Miss, I mean. I got
your letter.”

“Good-morning, sir,” said Miss Sallianna, with some stiffness;
“where are your clothes?”

Verty stared at Miss Sallianna with great astonishment, and
said:

“My clothes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“These are my clothes.”

“And Verty touched his breast.

“No, sir!” said Miss Sallianna.

“Not mine?”

“They may be yours, sir; but I do not call them clothes—
they are mere covering.”

“Anan?” said Verty.

“They are barbarous.”

“How, ma'am?”

Miss Sallianna tossed her head.

“It is not proper!” she said.

“What, ma'am?”

“Coming to see a lady in that plight.”

“This plight?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Not proper?”

“No, sir!”

“Why not?”

“Because, sir, when a gentleman comes to pay his respects to
a lady, it is necessary that he should be clad in a manner, consistent
with the errand upon which he comes.”

“Anan, ma'am?”

“Goodness gracious?” cried Miss Sallianna, forgetting her
attitudes, and vigorously rubbing her nose; “did any body ever?”

“Ever what, ma'am?”

“Ever see a person so hard to understand as you are, sir.”

“I don't understand long words,” said Verty; “and you know
I am an Indian.”

“I knew you were, sir.”

Verty shook his head, and smiling dreamily:

“I always will be that,” he said.

“Then, sir, we cannot be friends—”

“Why, ma'am—I mean, Miss?”

“Because, sir, the properties of civilization require a mutual
criterion of excellence—hem!”

“Oh yes,” said Verty, very doubtfully, and checking by an
effort his eternal exclamation of ignorance; “but I thought you
liked me.”

“I do, sir,” said Miss Sallianna, with more mildness—“I
thought we should be friends.”

Verty smiled.

“What a funny letter you wrote to me,” he said.

“Funny, sir?” said Miss Sallianna, blushing.

“Very pretty, too.”

“Oh, sir!”

“But I did'nt understand more than half of it,” said Verty
with his old dreamy smile.

“Pray why, sir?”

“The words were so long.”

Miss Sallianna looked gratified.

“They were expressive, sir, of the reciprocal sensation which
beats in my heart.”

“Yes, ma'am,” said Verty.

“But recollect, sir, that this sentiment is dependent upon exterior
circumstances. I positively cannot receive you in that
savage dress.”

“Not receive me?”

“No, sir.”

“What's the matter with my poor dress?”

“It's abominable, sir—oderous; and then your hair—”

“My hair?” said Verty, pulling at a curl.

“Yes, sir—it is preposterous, sir. Did any body ever!”

And Miss Sallianna carried her eyes to heaven.

“I don't know,” Verty said; “but it feels better.”

“It may, sir; but you must cut it off if you come again.”

Verty hesitated.

“I thought—” he began.

“Well, sir?”

“I was thinking,” said the young man, feeling a vague idea
that he was going wrong—“I thought that you were not so very
particular, as you are only a school-mistress, and not one of those
fine ladies I have seen riding by in their carriages. They might
think some ceremony needed—”

“Not a—very well, sir—a schoolmistress—only—indeed!'
said Miss Sallianna, with dignity.

Verty was too little acquainted with the expression of concentrated
feeling to understand these words, and smiling,

“Then,” he said, “there was another reason—”

“For what, sir?” said Miss Sallianna, with great dignity.

“For my not being very particular.”

“Please state it, sir.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

The lady sniffed with indignation.

“I meant, said Verty, “that as you had very few beaux here
—I believe you call 'em beaux—I could come so. I know that
Mr. Jinks comes, but he is too fierce to be agreeable, and is not
very nice, I should think.”

Miss Sallianna darted a glance of scorn at the unlucky Verty,
which would have transfixed that gentleman; but unfortunately
he, did not see it.

“Yes,” he went on, “there is a great deal of difference, Miss
Sallianna, between coming to see you, who are only a school-mistress,
and hav'nt much fine company, and the rich ladies;—
then you know I thought that the difference between our ages—
you being so much older than I am, about thirty or thirty-five, I
suppose—”

The cup was full.

“Mr. Verty,” gasped Miss Sallianna, “you will please to end
our interview at once, sir!—this language, sir, is intolerated, sir!
—if you wish to insult me, sir, you can remain!—I consider
your insinuations, sir, as unworthy of a gentleman. The viper!”
cried Miss Sallianna, becoming hysterical, and addressing her
observations to the ceiling; “the viper which I warmed in my
bosom, and who turns and rents me.”

Which was very ungallant in the viper not to say extraordinary,
as it implied that vipers dwelt in houses “to let.”

“Who beguiled himself into this resort of innocence, and
attacked my suspicious nature—and now casts reproaches on my
station in society and my youth!”

“Oh, ma'am!” cried Verty.

“Don't speak to me, sir!”

“No, ma'am.”

“Your very presence is deletrious.”

“Oh, Miss Sallianna!”

“Go sir—go!”

“Yes, ma'am—but are you well enough?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Have a glass of water?”

“No, sir!”

“I'm so sorry I said anything to—”

“There is reason, sir.”

“You don't hate me?”

“No, sir!” said Miss Sallianna, relenting, and growing
gradually calmer; “I pity and forgive you.”

“Will you shake hands?”

“Yes, sir—I am forgiving, sir—”

“At your time of life you know, ma'am, we ought'nt to—”

Unfortunate Verty; the storm which was subsiding arose again
in all its original strength.

“Leave me!” cried Miss Sallianna, with a tragic gesture.

“Yes, ma'am—but—”

“Mr. Verty?”

“Ma'am!”

“Your presence is opprobrious.”

“Oh, Miss Sallianna!”

“Yes, sir—intolerant.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Therefore, sir, go and leave me to my thoughts again—go,
sir, and make merry with your conjugal companions!”

“Yes, ma'am,” said Verty; “but I did'nt mean to worry you.
Please forgive me—”

“Go, sir!”

Verty saw that this tragic gesture indicated a determination
which could not be disputed.

He therefore put on his hat, and having now caught sight of
Fanny and Redbud, bowed to his companion, and went—into
the garden.

Miss Sallianna gasped, and sinking into a chair, fell into violent
hysterics, in which numerous allusions were made to vipers.
Poor Verty!