University of Virginia Library

17. CHAPTER XVII.
JEALOUSY.

The day following Mr. Stuart's visit was Saturday, and as
there was no school, Mary decided to call upon her sister,
whom she had not seen for some months. Mrs. Mason, who
had some shopping to do in the village, offered to accompany
her, and about two in the afternoon, they set forward in Mr.
Knight's covered buggy. The roads were smooth and dry,
and in a short time they reached the bridge near the depot.
A train of cars bound for Boston was just going out, and
from one of the windows Mr. Stuart was looking, and waving
his hand towards Mary, who bowed in token of recognition.

The sight and sound of the cars made “old Charlotte,”
whom Mrs. Mason was driving, prick up her ears, and feet
too, and in a few moments she carried her load to the village.
Leaving Mrs. Mason at the store, Mary proceeded at
once to Mrs. Campbell's. She rang the door-bell a little
timidly, for the last time she saw her sister, she had been
treated with so much coldness, that she now felt some anxiety
with regard to the reception she was likely to meet.

“Is Miss Campbell at home?” she asked of the girl
who answered her ring.

“Yes, she's at home,” replied the girl, “but is busy
dressing for company.”

“Tell her her sister is here, if you please. I won't detain
her long,” said Mary, trying hard to shake off the
tremor which always came upon her, when she found herself
in Mrs. Campbell's richly furnished house.

Conducting Mary into the parlor, the girl departed with
her message to Ella, who, together with the young lady
whom Mr. Knight had styled a “white-eyed pucker,” but
whose real name was Eliza Porter, was dressing in the
chamber above. The door of the room was open, and from
her position, Mary could hear distinctly every word which
was uttered.

“Miss Ella,” said the girl, “your sister is in the parlor,
and wants to see you.”

“My sister,” repeated Ella, “oh, forlorn! What brought
her here to-day? Why didn't you tell her I wasn't at
home?”

“I never told a lie in my life,” answered the honest servant
girl, while Miss Porter in unfeigned surprise said,
“Your sister! I didn't know you had one. Why doesn't
she live at home?”

Concealment was no longer possible, and in a half vexed,
half laughing tone, Ella replied, “Why, I thought you
knew that I was an orphan whom Mrs. Campbell adopted
years ago.”

“You an orphan!” returned Miss Porter. “Well, if I
ever! Who adopted your sister?”

“A poor woman in the country,” was Ella's answer.

Miss Porter, who was a notorious flatterer, replied, “I
must see her, for if she is any thing like you, I shall love
her instantly.”

“Oh, she isn't like me,” said Ella, with a curl of her
lip. “She's smart enough, I suppose, but she hasn't a bit
of polish or refinement. She doesn't come here often, and

when she does, I am always in a fidget, for fear some of the
city girls will call, and she'll do something outre.”

“I guess, then, I won't go down, at least not till I'm
dressed,” answered Miss Porter; and Ella, throwing on a
dressing-gown, descended to the parlor, where she met her
sister with the ends of her fingers, and a simple, “Ah,
Mary, how d'ye do? Are you well?”

After several commonplace remarks, Ella at last asked,
“How did you know I was at home?”

“Mr. Knight told me,” said Mary.

“Mr. Knight,” repeated Ella; “and pray, who is he?
I don't believe he's on my list of acquaintances.”

“Do you remember the man who carried me to the
poor-house?” asked Mary.

“Hush—sh!” said Ella, glancing nervously towards the
door. “There is a young lady up stairs, and it isn't necessary
for her to know you've been a pauper.”

By this time Miss Porter was dressed. She was very
fond of display, and wishing to astonish the “country girl”
with her silks and satins, came rustling into the parlor.

“My sister,” said Ella carelessly.

Miss Porter nodded, and then throwing herself languidly
upon the sofa, looked down the street, as if expecting
some one. At last, supporting herself on her elbow, she
lisped out, “I don't believe that he'th coming, for here 'tith
after four!”

“Tisn't likely he'll stay in the graveyard all night,”
returned Ella. “I wish we'd asked him whose graves he
was going to visit, don't you?” Then, by way of saying
something more to Mary, she continued, “Oh, you ought to
know what an adventure I had yesterday. It was a most
miraculous escape, for I should certainly have been killed,
if the most magnificent-looking gentleman you ever saw,

hadn't caught me just in time to keep Beauty from throwing
me. You ought to see his eyes, they were perfectly
splendid!”

Mary replied, that she herself thought he had rather
handsome eyes.

“You! where did you ever see him?” asked Ella.

“He visited my school yesterday afternoon.”

“Oh, no, that can't be the one,” returned Ella, while
Miss Porter, too, said, “Certainly not; our cavalier never
thaw the inthide of a district school-houth, I know.”

“I am quite sure he saw one yesterday,” said Mary, relating
the circumstance of Mr. Knight's meeting him at the
spot where Ella came so near getting a fall.

“Did he go home with you?” asked Ella, in a tone
plainly indicating that a negative answer was expected.

Mary understood the drift of her sister's questioning,
and promptly replied, “Yes, he went home with me, and
staid to tea.”

Ella's countenance lowered, while Miss Porter exclaimed,
“I declare, we may as well give up all hope, for
your sister, it seems, has the first claim.”

“Pshaw!” said Ella, contemptuously, while Miss Porter,
again turning to Mary, asked, “Did you learn his
name? If you did, you are more fortunate than we were;
and he came all the way home with us, too, leading Ella's
pony; and besides that, we met him in the street this
morning.”

“His name,” returned Mary, “is Stuart, and he lives in
Boston, I believe.”

“Stuart,—Stuart,—” repeated Ella; “I never heard
Lizzie Upton, or the Lincolns, mention the Stuarts, but perhaps
they have recently removed to the city. Any way,
this young man is somebody, I know.”

Here Miss Porter, again looking down the road, exclaimed,
“There, he's coming, I do believe.”

Both girls rushed to the window, but Mr. Stuart was not
there; and when they were reseated, Mary very gravely remarked,
that he was probably ere this in Worcester, as she
saw him in the eastern train.

“Why, really,” said Ella, “you seem to be well posted
in his affairs. Perhaps you can tell us whose graves he
wished to find. He said he had some friends buried here,
and inquired for the sexton.”

Mary knew nothing about it, and Ella, as if thinking
aloud, continued, “It must be that he got belated, and went
from the graveyard, across the fields, to the depot;—
but, oh horror!” she added, “there comes Lizzie Upton and
the rest of the Boston girls. Mary, I guess you'll have to
go, or rather, I guess you'll have to excuse me, for I must
run up and dress. By the way, wouldn't you like some
flowers? If you would just go into the kitchen, and ask
Bridget to show you the garden.”

Mary had flowers enough at home, and so, in spite of
Ella's manœuvre, she went out at the front door, meeting
“Lizzie Upton, and the rest of the Boston girls,” face to
face. Miss Porter, who acted the part of hostess while
Ella was dressing, was quickly interrogated by Lizzie
Upton, as to who the young lady was they met in the yard.

“That's Ella Campbell's sister,” said Miss Porter.
Then lowering her voice to a whisper, she continued, “Don't
you believe, Ella isn't Mrs. Campbell's own daughter, but
an adopted one!”

“I know that,” answered Lizzie; “but this sister, where
does she live?”

“Oh, in a kind of a heathenish, out-of-the-way place,
and teaches school for a living.”

“Well,” returned Lizzie, “she is a much finer looking
girl than Ella.”

“How can you say so,” exclaimed three or four girls in
a breath, and Lizzie replied, “Perhaps she hasn't so much
of what is called beauty in her face, but she has a great deal
more intellect.”

Here the door-bell again rang; and Ella, having made a
hasty toilet, came tripping down the stairs in time to welcome
Rose Lincoln, whom she embraced as warmly as if a
little eternity, instead of three days, had elapsed since they
met.

“I had perfectly despaired of your coming,” said she.
“Oh, how sweet you do look! But where's Jenny?”

Rose's lip curled scornfully, as she replied, “Why, she
met Mary Howard in the store, and I couldn't drag her
away.”

“And who is Mary Howard?” asked Lizzie Upton.

Rose glanced at Ella, who said, “Why, she's the girl
you met going out of the yard.”

“Oh, yes,—I know,—your sister,” returned Lizzie.
“Isn't she to be here? I have noticed her in church, and
should like to get acquainted with her. She has a fine eye
and forehead.”

Ella dared not tell Lizzie, that Mary was neither polished
nor refined, so she answered, that “she could not stay
this afternoon, as Mrs. Mason, the lady with whom she lived,
was in a hurry to go home.”

Miss Porter looked up quickly from her embroidery, and
winked slily at Ella in commendation of her falsehood.
Jenny now came bounding in, her cheeks glowing, and her
eyes sparkling like diamonds.

“I'm late, I know,” said she, “but I met Mary in the
store, and I never know when to leave her. I tried to make

her come with me, telling her that as you were her sister,
'twas no matter if she wern't invited; but she said that
Mrs. Mason had accepted an invitation to take tea with
Mrs. Johnson, and she was going there too.”

Instantly Lizzie Upton's eyes were fixed upon Ella, who
colored scarlet; and quickly changing the conversation, she
commenced talking about her adventure of the evening before,
and again the “magnificent-looking stranger, with his
perfectly splendid eyes,” was duly described.

“Oh, yes,” said Jenny, who generally managed to talk
all the time, whether she was heard or not. “Yes, Mary
told me about him. He was in her school yesterday, and if
I were going to describe George Moreland, I could not
do it more accurately than she did, in described Mr.
Stuart. You never saw George, did you?”

“No,” said Ella pettishly, “but seems to me Mary is
dreadful anxious to have folks know that Mr. Stuart visited
her school.”

“No, she isn't,” answered Jenny. “I told her that I
rode past her school-house yesterday, and should have called,
had I not seen a big man's head protruding above the window
sill. Of course, I asked who he was, and she told me
about him, and how he saved you from a broken neck.”

Ella's temper, never the best, was fast giving way, and
by the time the company were all gone, she was fairly in a
fit of the pouts. Running up stairs, and throwing herself
upon the bed, she burst into tears, wishing herself dead, and
saying she knew no one would care if she were, for every
body liked Mary better than they did her.

Miss Porter, who stood by, terribly distressed of course,
rightly guessed that the every body, on this occasion, referred
merely to Mr. Stuart and Lizzie Upton. Ella was
always jealous of any commendation bestowed upon Mary,

seeming to consider it as so much taken from herself, and
consequently, could not bear that Lizzie should even think
well of her. The fact, too, that Mr. Stuart had not only
visited her school, but also walked home with her, was a
sufficient reason why she should be thoroughly angry. Miss
Porter knew that the surest method of coaxing her out of
her pouting fit, was to flatter her, and accordingly she repeated
at least a dozen complimentary speeches, some of
which she had really heard, while others were manufactured
for the occasion. In this way the cloud was gradually lifted
from her face, and erelong she was laughing merrily at the
idea, that a girl “so wholly unattractive as Mary, should
ever have made her jealous!”