University of Virginia Library

4. CHAPTER IV.

When Mr. Middleton was spoken to, on the subject of
sending Julia to Frankfort, he at first refused outright.
“No,” said he, “indeed she shan't go! What does she
want of any more flummerdiddle notions? What she does
know is a damage to her!”

“But do you not wish to give your daughters every possible
advantage?” said Mr. Wilmot.

“Who's said any thing about my daughters?” said Mr.
Middleton. “It's nobody but Tempest, and she's always
kickin' up some bobbery. Now if 'twas Sunshine, why, I
might,—but no, neither of 'em shall go. It's all stuff,
the whole on't.” So saying he turned on his heel, and
walked off, while Julia burst into tears, and repaired to her
own room, whither she was soon followed by her mother,
who tried to console her. Said she, “Why, Julia, you don't
take the right course with your father. Why do you not
propose having your sister accompany you? for if you go,
she will, and you know she can always coax her father to do
as she pleases.”

This was rather humiliating to Julia, but she concluded
'twas her only alternative, so she dried her eyes, and seeking
out her sister, very soon talked her into a strong desire to
try the mysteries of a school in Frankfort, and also drew

from her a promise to try her powers of argument upon her
father. Accordingly that evening Fanny made an attack
upon him, and as her mother had predicted, she was perfectly
successful. It was settled that she and Julia should
both go, and the next morning early, Mr. Middleton set off
for Frankfort to find, “as smart a boarding-place for his
gals as any body had.” There was as yet no boarding-house
connected with the school, and he was obliged to find
a place for them in some one of the numerous boarding-houses
with which Frankfort abounds. He at last decided
upon a very genteel establishment, kept by a Mrs. Crane,
who at first hesitated about receiving into her family persons
who possessed so rough and shabbily looking a father.

But Mr. Middleton brought her to a decision by saying,
“What the deuce you waiting for? Is it because I've got
on cow-hide stogies, and a home-made coat? Thunder and
lightning! don't you know I'm old Middleton, worth at least
two hundred thousand?”

This announcement changed the current of Mrs. Crane's
ideas. The daughters were not rough, if the father was, so
she decided to take them, and for the very moderate sum of
seven dollars per week, promised to give them all the privileges
of her house. The first day of June was fixed upon
for them to leave home, and at sunrise, Mr. Middleton's carriage
stood at his door, waiting for the young ladies to make
their appearance. Julia had long been ready, and was waiting
impatiently for Fanny, who was bidding the servants an
affectionate good-bye. Each one had received from her
some little token of love, and now they all stood in one
corner of the yard, to look at their darling as long as possible.

“Lor' bless her,” said one, “Kentuck hain't many like
her, nor never will have.”

“No, nor Frankfort nuther,” said a second. While a
third added, “No, and I reckon Heaven hasn't nuther!”

To which a fourth responded, “Amen.”

Here old Aunt Katy, who had nursed Mr. Middleton and
his children after him, hobbled up to Fanny, and laying her
hard, shrivelled black hand on her young mistress's bright
locks, said, “The Lord who makes the wind blow easy like
on the sheared lamb, take keer of my sweet child, and bring
her back agin to poor old Aunt Katy, who'll be all dark and
lonesome, when Sunshine's done gone.”

This was regarded as a wonderful speech by the negroes,
and as none of them could hope to equal it, they contented
themselves by lustily blowing their trombones, and wiping
the same on their shirt sleeves, or the corners of their aprons.
At last the good-byes all were said. Julia merely noticed
the blacks with a slight nod, and then sprang nimbly into
the carriage, which disappeared from view just as the negroes
struck up in a loud, clear, and not unmusical tone,

“Stop your yelp, can't you?” said Mr. Middleton; but his
voice indicated that he would not be very much displeased
even if they did not obey, so they tuned their pipes still
louder, and this time the six dogs joined in the chorus, with
a long mournful howl.

“Thar, that'll do,” said Mr. Middleton, “now to your
work, quick; and mind, the one that works best this week
shall go Saturday, and carry Miss. Crane some strabries!”

The negroes needed no other incentive to work, than the
prospect before them of going to see Fanny. Never had
Mr. Middleton had so much accomplished in one week.
When Friday night came, it was hard telling which was
the favored one. At last it was settled that Ike should go

to Frankfort, and the rest should have a sort of holiday.
Ike was a sprightly negro boy of seventeen, and almost idolized
his young mistress Fanny. Long before “sun up” (a
favorite expression in Kentucky for sunrise), he had filled his
basket with strawberries, and just as the first rays of sunlight
streaked the eastern hills, he started on his mission,
laden with numerous messages of love for “sweet Miss
Fanny,” and a big cranberry pie, from Aunt Judy, who
“was sartin the baby wanted some of old Judy's jimcracks
by this time.”

Meanwhile Julia and Fanny had become tolerably well
established both in school and at Mrs. Crane's. Julia was
perfectly delighted with her new quarters, for she said,
“every thing was in style, just as it should be,” and she
readily adopted all the “city notions.” But poor Fanny
was continually committing some blunder. She would forget
to use her napkin, or persist in using her knife instead
of her four-tined silver fork. These little things annoyed
Julia excessively, and numerous were the lectures given in
secret to Fanny, who would laugh merrily at her sister's
distress, and say she really wished her father would dine
some day at Mrs. Crane's table.

“Heaven forbid that he should!” said Julia. “I should
be mortified to death.”

“They would not mind his oddities,” said Fanny, “for I
overheard Mrs. Crane telling the exquisitely fashionable
Mrs. Carrington, that our father was `a quizzical old savage,
but rich as a nabob, and we should undoubtedly inherit a
hundred thousand dollars apiece.' And then Mrs. Carrington
said, `Oh, is it possible? one can afford to patronize
them.' And then she added something else which I
think I'll not tell you.”

“Oh do,” said Julia. “It's too bad to raise my curiosity
and not gratify it.”

“Well then,” said Fanny, “Mrs. Carrington said, `There
is a rumor that the eldest Miss Middleton is engaged to
Mr. Wilmot. I wonder at it, for with her extreme beauty
and great fortune, she can command a more eligible match
than a poor pedagogue.”'

The next morning at breakfast, Mrs. Crane informed her
boarders that she expected a new arrival the next day, which
was Friday. Said she, “It is a young gentleman from New
Orleans. His name is Dr. Lacey. His parents were natives
of Boston, Mass., but he was born in New Orleans, and will
inherit from his father an immense fortune; but as he wished
for a profession, he chose that of medicine. He is a graduate
of Yale College, and usually spends his summers North,
so this season he stops in Frankfort, and honors my house
with his presence. He is very handsome and agreeable,
and these young ladies must put a lock and key on their
hearts.”

The last part of this speech was directed to Julia, who
blushed deeply, and secretly wondered if Dr. Lacey were as
handsome as Mr. Wilmot. She frequently found herself
thinking about him during the day, but Fanny never gave
him a thought until evening, when as she and her sister
were together in their room, the latter suddenly exclaimed,
“I wonder if Dr. Lacey will be here at breakfast to-morrow
morning.”

“And if he is,” said Fanny, “I suppose you want me to
be very careful to use my fork, and break my egg correctly.”

“I think it would be well for you always to try and
show as much good breeding as possible,” said Julia.

“Well,” returned Fanny, “I reckon this Dr. Lacing or
Dr. Lacework,—what's his name?—will never be any thing to
us, for I am sure he'd never think of me, and you are engaged
to a man who is much better than any of your New
Orleans' pill bags!”

Little did Fanny dream how closely the “New Orleans
pill bags” were to be connected with the rest of her life.
Julia said nothing but probably thought more.

When the young ladies entered the breakfast room next
morning, they noticed, seated opposite them, a tall, dark,
handsome young man, whom Mrs. Carrington introduced
to them as Dr. Lacey. There was something remarkably
pleasing in his manner, and before breakfast was over, he
had completely won Fanny's good opinion, by kindly breaking
her egg for her, and when she had the misfortune to
drop her fork, he drew the attention of the company from
her, by relating an anecdote of himself, which was, that he
was once invited to a dinner party at the Hon. Henry Clay's,
and as he was trying to be very graceful and polite, he unfortunately
upset his plate, the contents of which, together
with his knife and fork, were deposited in his lap. This
story raised such a laugh that all forgot Fanny, who gave
Dr. Lacey such a look of gratitude, that after breakfast he
asked Mrs. Crane, who the pale, blue-eyed girl was, and received
about the same information that Mrs. Carrington had
received.

That day Mr. Wilmot's eyes were not as handsome, nor
his teeth as white as usual in the estimation of Julia, who
often found herself wondering why he did not wear whiskers.
That evening he called at Mrs. Crane's, and for the first
time in her life, Julia was not much pleased to see him. He
however rose ten per cent. in her estimation when she saw
the familiar and cordial manner with which Dr. Lacey treated
him. They talked as though they were old and dear
friends.

After Mr. Wilmot had left, Dr. Lacey said, “Why, that
Wilmot is a remarkably intelligent man and very agreeable.”
Then turning to Mrs. Carrington, he added, “Let
me see, is he a teacher?”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Carrington, “and these young ladies are
his pupils, and report says he looks after the heart of one of
them as well as the head.”

“Well,” continued he, “whichever one is favored with
his preference should feel honored, for he is a capital fellow.”
Just then his eye fell upon an elegant piano which stood in
the room, and he asked Mrs. Carrington to favor him with
some music.

“Perhaps Miss Middleton will oblige you,” said Mrs.
Carrington, looking at Julia.

“Thank you,” said Julia, “I am just taking lessons,” so
Mrs. Carrington sat down to the instrument, and as Julia
saw how skilfully her white, jewelled fingers touched the
keys, she resolved to spare no pains to become as fine a
player as Mrs. Carrington, particularly as she saw that Dr.
Lacey was very fond of music, and kept calling for piece
after piece till the evening was somewhat advanced.

“You ought to play, golden locks,” said he to Fanny, at
the same time taking one of her long yellow curls in his
hand.

“I am taking lessons,” said Fanny, “but I make awkward
work, for my fingers are all thumbs, as you might
know by my dropping that four-tined pitchfork this morning!”

Dr. Lacey laughed heartily at this speech and called her
an “original little piece,” at the same time saying, “You
remind me of my sister Anna.”

“Where does she live?” asked Fanny.

Dr. Lacey sighed as he answered, “For three years
she has lived in Heaven; three long years to us, who loved
her so dearly.”

Fanny observed that he seemed agitated while speaking
of his sister, so she dared not ask him more about her, although
she wished very much to do so. Perhaps he read

her wishes in her face, for he went on to tell her more of his
sister, who, he said, drooped day by day, and they took her
to Cuba, but she daily grew worse, and often spoke of dying
and of Heaven, and then one bright summer morning, she
passed away from them, and they buried her under a group
of dark orange trees. That night Fanny dreamed of sweet
Anna Lacey, sleeping so quietly in her lone grave, far off
neath the orange trees of Cuba. Julia had dreams too, but
of a different nature. In fancy she beheld Dr. Lacey at her
feet, with his handsome person, princely fortune, and magnificent
home near New Orleans, while off in the dim distance
loomed up a dark coffin, in which was the cold, pale
form of one whom she knew too well. Was her dream an
omen of the coming future? We shall see.

Next morning just as the town clock rang out the hour
of eight, a strange looking vehicle, to which was attached a
remarkably poor looking horse, was seen picking its way
slowly through the upper part of Main Street, Frankfort.
The driver of this establishment was a negro boy, whom we
readily recognize as our friend Ike. He was taking it leisurely
through the town, stopping before every large “smart”
looking house to reconnoitre, and see if it resembled the one
his master had described.

At last he was accosted by a young African, who called
out, “Ho, thar, old boy! what you keepin' yer eyes peeled,
and yer mouth open for? Is you catchin' flies?”

“No sar,” replied Ike. “I's tryin' to find Miss Crane's
boardin' house.”

“Oh yes; wall, it's up t'other way. You jist turn that
ar old rackerbone of yourn straight round, and turn down
that ar street, whar you see that steeple, and the fust house
on the corner is Miss Crane's. But say, is you and that ar
quadruped, jist out of the ark?”

“I dun know nothin' 'bout yer ark,” said Ike, whose

Scripture knowledge was rather limited, “but I 'longs to
Marster Josh, and I'm goin' to see Miss Fanny—and now I
think of it, won't you ride?”

“Lord, no,” said the negro, “I'm in a great hurry; goin'
arter the Doctor for ole Miss, who's sartin she's goin' for to
die this time.”

“You don't seem in much of a hurry,” said Ike.

“No,” returned the other, “ole Miss has died a heap
o' times, by spells, so I reckon she'll hang on this time till I
git back, jist so she can jaw me for bein' gone so long.”

So they parted, the stranger negro to go for the Doctor,
and Ike to go to Mrs. Crane's, with his berries, and Aunt
Judy's cranberry pie. He had often wondered during his
ride whether Fanny would not give him a piece of the pie.
As often as this thought entered his brain, he would turn
down the white napkin, and take a peep at the tempting
pastry; then he would touch it with his fingers, and finally
take it up and smell of it just a little!

While he was making his way into Mrs. Crane's kitchen,
Julia and Fanny were in their room, the windows of which
were open and looked out upon a balcony, which extended
entirely around the house. There was no school that day,
and Fanny was just wishing she could hear from home,
when a servant entered the room, and said there was a boy
in the kitchen, who wished to see Miss Fanny.

“A boy want to see me,” said Fanny, “who can it be?”

“Reckon he's from yer home, 'case he says how he belongs
to Marster Middleton,” said the negro girl.

“Oh, joy!” exclaimed Fanny, “somebody from home;
how glad I am! Come, Julia, won't you go down too?”

“No, indeed,” said Julia scornfully, “I am not so anxious
to see a greasy nigger. I hope you will not take it into
your head to ask him up here.”

But Fanny did not answer, for she was already half way

down the stairs. Going to the kitchen she found Ike, and
seemed as delighted to see him, as though his skin had been
snowy white. Ike delivered all his messages, and then presented
Aunt Judy's pie.

“Dear Aunt Judy,” said Fanny, “how kind she is,” then
seizing a knife she cut a liberal piece for Ike, who received
it with many thanks.

“Now, Ike,” said she, “you must wait here until I go
out and get a ribbon for Aunt Judy's cap, and some tobacco
for old Aunt Katy.” So saying she ran up stairs to her room.

When she entered it, Julia exclaimed, “In the name of
the people, what have you got now?”

“Oh, a pie, which Aunt Judy sent me,” said Fanny.

“How ridiculous,” answered Julia, “I don't think Mrs.
Crane would thank Aunt Judy for sending pies to her
house.”

“Mrs. Crane need know nothing about it, and would not
care if she did,” said Fanny, and then she added, “Ike is
down stairs, and he says father is coming after us in two or
three weeks.”

“Great Heavens,” said Julia, “what is he coming for?
Why does he not send a servant?”

“And why cannot father come,” asked Fanny.

“Because,” answered Julia, “who wants that old codger
here. A pretty figure he'd cut, I think. I should be
ashamed of him; and so would you, if you knew any thing.”

“I know he is odd,” said Fanny; “but he is my father,
and as such I would not be ashamed of him.”

“Well, I'm ashamed to own that he is my father, any
way,” answered Julia; “but where are you going now?”
she continued, as she saw her sister putting on her bonnet.

“I am going to buy some ribbon for Aunt Judy, some
tobacco for Aunt Katy, and some candy for the children,”
answered Fanny.

“Well, I do believe you haven't common sense,” said
Julia; “but where is your money to buy all these things?”

“Oh,” said Fanny, “I've concluded not to go and hear
Fanny Kemble to-night. I had rather spend the money for
the servants; it will do them so much good.”

“You certainly are a fool,” said Julia. Fanny had been
told that often, so she did not reply, but hastened down
stairs, and was soon in the street. As she turned the corner,
she could see the windows of her room, and the whole
length of the balcony on that side of the building. Looking
in that direction, she saw Dr. Lacey sitting out on the balcony,
and so near her window that he must have heard all
the conversation between herself and sister! She thought,
“Well, he of course thinks me a little silly dunce; but I do
like our blacks, and if I ever own any of them, I'll first
teach them to read, and then send them all to Liberia.” Full
of this new plan, she forgot Dr. Lacey, and she ere, was aware
of it, had reached the store. She procured the articles she
wished for, and returning to Mrs. Crane's, gave them to
Ike, who was soon on his way home.

At supper that evening, the conversation turned upon
Fanny Kemble and the expected entertainment. “I suppose
you are all going,” said Mrs. Crane to her boarders.
They all answered in the affirmative except Fanny, who was
about to reply, when Dr. Lacey interrupted her by saying,
“Miss Fanny, will you allow me to accompany you to hear
Mrs. Butler this evening?”

Fanny was amazed. Was it possible that the elegant
Dr. Lacey had honored her with an invitation to accompany
him to the literary treat! She was too much surprised to
answer him, until he said, “Do not refuse me, Miss Fanny,
for I am resolved to have you go!” She then gracefully
accepted his polite invitation, and at the same time glancing
toward Julia and Mrs. Carrington, she saw that the former

frowned darkly, while the latter looked displeased. This
damped her happiness somewhat, and as soon as supper
was over, she hurried to her room.

Mrs. Carrington was a gay, fashionable woman, and was
just as willing to receive attention from unmarried gentlemen
now as she had been in her girlish days. Her husband
was an officer in the United States army, and was absent a
great part of the time, but she had never cared much for
him, so she managed to pass the time of his absence very
happily in flirting with every handsome, wealthy young
gentleman who came in her way. When Dr. Lacey appeared,
she immediately appropriated him to herself. 'Tis true,
she somewhat feared Julia might become a rival, but of the
modest, unassuming little Fanny, she had never once thought,
and was greatly surprised when Dr. Lacey offered to escort
her to the Reading. She had resolved on having his company
herself, and when she saw the frown on Julia's face,
she flattered herself that she could yet prevent Fanny's
going.

Accordingly after supper, she asked Julia to go with her
for a moment to her room. Julia had become perfectly
charmed with the fascinating manners of Mrs. Carrington, so
she cheerfully assented, and the two proceeded together to
her richly furnished apartments. When there, Mrs. Carrington
said, “Miss Middleton, do you not think your sister
too young to accept the attentions of any gentleman, or at
least of a stranger?”

Julia well knew that the fact of Dr. Lacey's being a
stranger was of no consequence in Mrs. Carrington's estimation,
but she quickly answered, “Yes, I do; but what can be
done now?”

“Oh,” said Mrs. Carrington, “your sister is very gentle,
and if we go to her and state the case as it is, I am confident
she will yield.”

So they went to Fanny's room, where they found her
sitting by the window, thinking how much pleasure she
should enjoy that night.

Julia commenced operations by saying, “Fanny, what
made you promise Dr. Lacey that you would go with him
to-night?”

“Why,” said Fanny, “was there any thing wrong in
it?”

Here Mrs. Carrington's soft voice chimed in, “Nothing
very wrong, dear Fanny; but it is hardly proper for a young
school girl to appear in public, attended by a gentleman
who is not her brother or cousin.”

Poor Fanny! Her heart sank, for she was afraid she would
have to give up going after all; but a thought struck her,
and she said, “Well then, it is not proper for Julia to go
with Mr. Wilmot, and she has promised to do so.”

“That is very different,” said Mrs. Carrington; “Julia is
engaged to Mr. Wilmot, and unless you are engaged to Dr.
Lacey,” continued she, sarcastically, “it will not be proper
at all for you to go with him.”

“But I promised I would,” said Fanny.

“That you can easily remedy,” answered Mrs. Carrington.
“Just write him a note, and I will send it to him.”

Thus beset, poor Fanny sat down and wrote as Mrs. Carington
dictated, the following note:—

“That will do,” said Mrs. Carrington; and ringing the
bell, she dispatched a servant with the note to Dr. Lacey.

“You are a good girl to submit so readily,” said Mrs.
Carrington, laying her white hand on Fanny's head. But
Fanny's eyes were full of tears, and she did not answer; and
Mrs. Carrington, sure of Dr. Lacey's attendance that evening,
left the room exulting in the result of her plan. In a short
time she descended to the parlor, where she found Mr. Wilmot
and Julia, but no Dr. Lacey, neither did he make his
appearance at all, and after waiting impatiently for a time,
she was at last obliged to accept the arm of the poor pedagogue,
which was rather unwillingly offered, for Mr. Wilmot
greatly preferred having Julia all to himself. She had become
as dear to him as his own life, and in his opinion, her
character was like her face—perfect. Deluded man! 'Twas
well that he died before he had come to a knowledge of her
sinfulness.

But to return to Fanny. After she was left alone by her
sister, she threw herself upon the sofa, and burst into tears;
but at length wiping them away, she arose and went down
to the parlor, determined to have a nice time practising her
music lesson. It was rather hard, and with untiring patience
she played it over and over, until she was suddenly
startled by a voice behind her, saying, “Really, Miss Fanny,
you are persevering.” Looking up, she saw Dr. Lacey, who
had entered unperceived.

“Why, Dr. Lacey,” said she, “how you frightened me!
Why are you not at the Reading?”

“Because,” answered he, “when my lady breaks her engagement,
I think I too can remain at home. But why did
you change your mind, Miss Fanny? I thought you were
anxious to go.”

Fanny blushed painfully, and the tears came to her eyes,
but she replied, “I was anxious to go, but they thought I
had better not.”

“And who is `they,”' asked the Doctor; “and why did
they think you had better not go?”

Fanny answered, “Mrs. Carrington and Julia said I was
too young to go out with —”

“With such a bad man as I am,” said Dr. Lacey,
laughing.

“Oh no,” said Fanny, “they do not think you bad;
they said with any gentleman.”

“Too young, are you?” said Dr. Lacey. “How old are
you, Fanny?”

“I was sixteen last May,” she replied.

“Sixteen; just as old as Anna was when she died, and
just as old as my mother was when she was married; so it
seems you are not too young to die, or to be married either,
if you are too young to go out with me,” said Dr. Lacey.

Fanny did not reply; and he continued, “Whom would
you have gone with, if you had not spent your money this
morning for those old Aunts?”

Fanny started; and giving him a searching look, was
about to reply, when he anticipated her by saying, “Yes,
Fanny, I overheard your conversation this morning, and I
cannot sufficiently admire your generous self-denial. I have
heard Fanny Kemble two or three times, so I did not care to
hear her again; but I decided to go, for the pleasure of having
you hear her; but as you did not choose to go, I have
remained here with you, and wish to have you tell me something
about your parents and your home, and also wish you
to ask me to go there some time.”

Fanny answered hesitatingly, “I am afraid you would
not like to go there, Dr. Lacey.”

“Why not?” said he. “Do you not like your home?”

“Oh yes, very much,” she replied; “but father is a little
odd, and you might feel inclined to laugh at him; but he is

very kind, and if you could forget his roughness, you would
like him.”

“I know I shall like him, just because he is your
father,” said Dr. Lacey.

He then turned the conversation upon other subjects;
and Fanny found him so agreeable, that she never thought
of the hour, until Mr. Wilmot, Mrs. Carrington and Julia,
suddenly entered the parlor.

“Upon my word,” said Mrs. Carrington, “you have
both stolen a march upon us. No wonder neither of you
wished to go out.”

“I hope you have been agreeably entertained, Dr.
Lacey,” said Julia, in an ironical tone.

“I assure you I have,” said he warmly. “I do not remember
having passed so pleasant an evening for a long,
long time.”

“I dare say not; Fanny is usually very interesting,” was
Julia's contemptuous reply, and as Mr. Wilmot just then
took his leave, she very haughtily left the room, and went
up stairs, muttering to herself, “Foiled for the first time in
my life.”

From this time nothing of particular importance occurred
for two or three weeks, except that Dr. Lacey seemed
each day to grow fonder of Fanny, which greatly annoyed
Mrs. Carrington and Julia, both of whom spared no pains
to make Fanny appear in as bad a light as possible. But
Dr. Lacey understood their manœuvres, and whenever they
were present, seemed to take delight in being very attentive
to Fanny. He ardently desired to see the father of the two
girls, and ere long his wish was gratified. But of this we
will speak in another chapter.