University of Virginia Library

24. CHAPTER XXIV.
A CHANGE OF OPINION.

“Oh, mother, won't you take this pillow from my head, and
put another blanket on my feet, and fix the fire, and give me
some water, or something? Oh, dear, dear!—” groaned poor
Rose Lincoln, as with aching head and lungs, she did penance
for her imprudence in crossing the wet, slippery street
in thin slippers and silken hose.

Mrs. Lincoln, who knew nothing of this exposure, loudly
lamented the extreme delicacy of her daughter's constitution,
imputing it wholly to Mount Holyoke discipline, and wishing,
as she had often done before, that “she'd been wise and kept
her at home.” Jenny would have wished so, too, if by this
means Rose's illness could have been avoided, for it was not
a very agreeable task to stay in that close sick room, listening
to the complaints of her fault-finding sister, who tossed and
turned and fretted, from morning until night, sometimes wishing
herself dead, and then crying because she “wanted something,
and didn't know what.”

“Oh, dear,” said she, one evening several days after the
commencement of her illness, “how provoking to be obliged
to lie here moping with the dullest of all dull company,
when there's Mrs. Russell's party next week, and I've such

a lovely dress to wear. Why ain't I as strong and healthy
as you? though I wouldn't be so fat for any thing.”

Jenny knew that whatever answer she could make would
not be the right one, so she said nothing, and after a moment
Rose again spoke.

“I'll go to that party sick or well. I wouldn't miss of it
for any thing.”

This time Jenny looked up in surprise, asking why her
sister was so particularly anxious to attend the party.

“Because,” returned Rose, “Mary Howard will be there,
and you know as well as I how awkward she'll appear,—never
was in any kind of society in her life.”

“I don't see what inducement that can be for you to
expose your health,” said Jenny, and Rose continued: “I
want to see Ida mortified once, for she might know better
than to bring a green, country girl here, setting her up as
something wonderful, and expecting every body to believe it
just because Miss Selden said so. Didn't you tell me there
was some one continually going to inquire after Mary?

“Yes,” answered Jenny; whereupon Rose got very angry,
complaining that no one called upon her except that little
simpleton Ella, who only came when she thought there was a
chance of seeing Henry!

“Seems to me you've changed your mind with regard to
Ella,” said Jenny.

“No I hain't either,” answered Rose; “I always thought
her silly, and now she hangs round Henry so much I'm thoroughly
disgusted. But see,—there's Henry now, at Mr. Selden's
gate,—with another gentleman.”

The moon was shining brightly, and looking out, Jenny
saw Billy Bender and her brother mounting the steps which
led to Mr. Selden's door.

“It's funny that they should be together,” thought she,

while Rose continued, “Nothing will surprise me now, if Henry
has got to running after her. I am glad George Moreland is
away, though I fancy he's too much good sense to swallow a
person, just because Ida and his old maid aunt say he must.”

Here the conversation was interrupted by the entrance
of Mr. Lincoln, who came as usual to see his daughter. In
the mean time the two young men, who accidentally met at
the gate, had entered Mr. Selden's parlor, and inquired for
the young ladies.

“Come, you must go down,” said Ida to Mary, when the
message was delivered. This is the third time Mr. Bender
has called, and you have no excuse for not now seeing him.
“By the way,” she continued, as Mary said something about
`Billy,' “don't call him Billy; we know him as Mr. Bender,
and Billy is so,—so,—”

“So countrified,” suggested Mary.

“Yes, countrified if you please,” returned Ida. “So
after this he is William. Haven't you noticed that Jenny
calls him so? But come,” she added mischievously, “never
mind brushing your hair. Mr. Stuart isn't down there!”

With the exception of the time when she was hurt, Mary
had not seen William for more than two years and a half,
and now when she met him, she was so much embarrassed
that she greeted him with a reserve, amounting almost to
coldness. He on the contrary, was perfectly self-possessed,
but after a few common-place remarks, he seated himself on
the opposite side of the room, and entered into conversation
with Mrs. Mason concerning Chicopee and its inhabitants.
Frequently Mary's eyes rested upon him, and she felt a
thrill of pride when she saw how much his residence in Boston
had improved him, and how handsome he really was.
But any attempt to converse with him was rendered impossible
by Henry Lincoln, who, toady as he was, thought proper

to be exceedingly polite to Mary, now that the Seldens noticed
her so much. Seating himself by her side with all the
familiarity of an old friend, and laying his arm across the
back of the sofa, so that to William it looked as if thrown
around her shoulders, he commenced a tirade of nonsense as
meaningless as it was disagreeable. More than once, too, he
managed to let fall a very pointed compliment, feeling
greatly surprised to see with what indifference it was received.

“Confound the girl!” thought he, beginning to feel
piqued at her coldness. “Is she made of ice, or what?”

And then he redoubled his efforts at flattery, until Mary,
quite disgusted, begged leave to change her seat, saying by
way of apology that she was getting too warm. In the course
of the evening George Moreland was mentioned. Involuntarily
Mary blushed, and Henry, who was watching her,
proposed that she resume her former seat, “for,” said he,
“you look quite as warm and red where you are.”

“The nearest I ever knew him come to any thing witty,”
whispered Ida, from behind a fire screen. “I do believe
you've rubbed up his ideas, and I predict that you win him
instead of Ella.”

Mary did not even smile, for to her there was something
revolting in the idea of being even teased about Henry, who
was conceited enough to attribute her reserve to the awe
which he fancied his “elegant presence” inspired! If Ella
with all her wealth and beauty placed an invaluable estimate
upon his attentions, why should not her unpretending sister
be equally in love with him? And the young dandy stroked
his mustache with his white fingers, and wondered what Ella
Campbell would say if she knew how much her sister admired
him, and how very nearly his admiration was returned!

At length William arose to go, and advancing towards
Mary, he took her hand, saying in a low tone with marked

emphasis on the word sister, “I find my sister greatly
changed and improved since I last saw her.”

“And you too are changed,” returned Mary, her eyes
filling with tears, for William's manner was not as of old.

“Yes, in more respects than one,” said he, “but I shall
see you again. Do you attend Mrs. Russell's party?”

Mary replied in the affirmative, and the next moment he
was gone. Half an hour after, Henry, too, departed, saying
to Mary as he went out, “You musn't fail to be at Mrs. Russell's,
for I shall only go for the sake of seeing you.—Truth,
upon my honor, what little I have,” he continued, as Mary's
eyes flashed forth her entire disbelief of what he said. “I
am in earnest now, if I never was before.”

Ida laughed aloud at the mystified picture which Mary's
face presented as the door closed upon Henry. “You are
too much of a novice to see through every thing, but you'll
learn in time that opinions frequently change with circumstances,”
said she.

That night in his chamber, with his heels upon the marble
mantel, and his box of cigars and bottle of brandy at
his side, the man of fashion soliloquized as follows:
“Zounds! How that girl has improved. Never saw the like
in my life.—Talk about family and rank, and all that stuff!
Why, there isn't a lady in Boston that begins to have the
air distingue which Mary Howard has. Of course she'll
be all the go. Every thing the Seldens take up is. Ain't
I glad Moreland is in New Orleans; for with his notions,
he wouldn't hesitate to marry her if he liked her, poor as
she is. Now if she only had the chink, I'd walk up to her
quick. I dont see why the deuce the old man need to have
got so involved just now, as to make it necessary for me either
to work or have a rich wife. Such eyes too, as Mary's got!
Black and fiery one minute, blue and soft the next. Well,

any way I'll have a good time flirting with her, just for the
sake of seeing Ella wince and whimper, if nothing more.
Bah! What a simpleton she is, compared wth Mary. I
wonder how much Mrs. Campbell is worth, and if Ella will
have it all”

And the young man retired to dream of debts liquidated
by the gold which a marriage with Ella Campbell would
bring him.