University of Virginia Library

7. ARABELLA MEETS HER GRAND RELATIONS

The carriage stopped before a large and very substantial mansion of brown stone, upon the older part of Fifth Avenue. Its very aspect sent a chill to the hearts of Arabella and her companion; a cold and sickening feeling possessed them. Mrs. Christie braced herself and brought her native energy of character to bear upon the situation. Arabella, who was imaginative in an unusual degree, suffered more. Her eyes had an unnatural, strained appearance, and the fixed red of her weather-beaten cheeks deepened in color. If the smart lawyer's clerk felt any inward perturbation, he gave no sign.

He inquired of the servant solemnly opening the door if Mrs. Winslow could see them, then, giving the names in answer to the man's demand. The latter ushered them through the wide hall into a room which was clearly a library. Bookcases ran around three sides of the room; busts of celebrated authors were arranged on pedestals; large, leather chairs stood bolt upright, giving an appearance of stiffness. Arabella felt an immediate repugnance to the busts, and shrank away from them. They seemed to stare at her with stony, impassive faces, and she sat down on one of the smaller and less formidable of the chairs. The others were likewise repellant to her, as if they should be occupied by magnates. The silence of the house seemed oppressive. Footsteps were muffled in the pile of the rich, soft carpet, and if there were any voices they must have spoken in whispers.

All of a sudden the handle of the door turned gently. Arabella's heart leaped. Mrs. Christie settled herself more securely on the edge of her chair and tried to look at ease. There was a rustling of silk, a delicate and subtle, yet powerful perfume, and a lady, clad in deep mourning, entered the room. Her hair, which was of an ebony blackness, glossy and lustrous as a raven's wing, was elaborately arranged in a high pompadour, into puffs and curls filling up the spaces on the top of her head. Her brown eyes had, as Mrs. Christie at once observed, a curious resemblance to those of Arabella, with, however, a marked difference in the expression, as if they had looked at widely differing objects, and regarded life itself from another point of view. The complexion was delicately fair, and the arched eyebrows gave a cold and supercilious aspect to the face, which was belied by a certain softness about the mouth and chin.

To Arabella she seemed very beautiful, and like a queen in the perfectly-fitting black dress, which fell around her in graceful folds.

Advancing into the room, she greeted the lawyer's clerk, Mr. Brown, with an indescribably courteous ease, which yet held him completely at a distance, and turned her eyes towards his companions. They had instinctively risen at her approach, Mrs. Christie bolt upright and stiffly defiant, and Arabella nervous and confused, with downcast eyes and burning cheeks. Motioning them all to be seated, Mrs. Winslow sat down herself and began at once, with the air of one who has a duty to perform and would fain be done therewith.

"So, Mr. Brown, you have brought Mrs." — she referred by a hasty glance to a slip of paper in her hand — "Mrs. Christie."

She smiled as she spoke, with a slight, courteous nod to the elder woman.

"Mrs. Christie and — my niece — to see us, as you promised."

"Yes, Madam," said the young man, all deference and civility now, which made Arabella feel that she hated him more than ever, "and I have brought all necessary documents to establish the young lady's identity. Mr. Van Duzen, of our firm, is coming himself later."

"Yes, of course," said Mrs. Winslow. "So very good of him. And my brothers will be here very, very shortly, and then we shall proceed to business."

This announcement of the coming of the lady's brothers was a terrible one to poor, trembling Arabella, and she glanced at her equally uncomfortable companion, who seemed to her a very tower of strength at that moment, and who, in fact, maintained a brave and unshaken demeanor.

"And this," continued the lady, smiling at the young girl; "this is —"

"Arabella," put in Mrs. Christie.

"Arabella!" repeated the other. "What a quaint name. I had fancied it was —" here she again refreshed her memory by glancing at the paper, "Anna Rosetta."

"But you must remember, Madam," explained Mr. Brown, "that neither the Sister Superior nor Mrs. Christie was acquainted with the child's real name."

"Oh, of course not," assented Mrs. Winslow, "how very stupid of me. And was it you, Mrs. Christie, who gave her the name of Arabella?"

"Yes," explained that personage, clearing away a slight nervous huskiness in her throat and raising her voice. "I gave her that flame because of the three letters upon the locket."

"How very clever of you," cried the lady. "What a very good idea!"

Mrs. Christie did not add that the suggestion conveyed by the three letters had further been supplemented by a book from the local library, whereof "Arabella" was the heroine.

"I will always call her by that name," added Mrs. Christie with a touch of defiance, "as long as I have anything to do with her."

"It is very natural that you should," agreed Mrs. Winslow, inwardly wondering why her brothers and the lawyer did not come, that the interview with "these people," which she found wearisome, should terminate. It occurred to her, moreover, that one of them might necessarily become her guest, for an indefinite time. The idea was far from agreeable. She favored Arabella, nevertheless, with a smiling, propitiatory glance.

"We must get to know each other very well, must we not?" she observed.

"Yes, ma'am," said Arabella, not knowing what else to say.

Mrs. Winslow shuddered imperceptibly, and her further efforts were interrupted by the sound of voices in the hall, one of which had a cheery and pleasant tone. Nevertheless, poor Arabella began to quake, and cast an appealing glance towards Mrs. Christie, who maintained, by a valiant effort, her absolute composure. The door was thrown open by the same wooden-visaged functionary who had previously admitted Mr. Brown and his companions.

Of the two men then entering the room, one was tall, thin and dark, bearing a strong resemblance to the lady of the eyebrows; the other was short, round-faced and jovial, with just a suspicion of gray in his chestnut hair. The first, after a word with Mrs. Winslow, nodded carelessly to the lawyer's clerk.

"How d'ye do, Brown!" he exclaimed, and with a slight bow to the others, dropped into a chair. He put one leg over the other, nursing it as though it were a precious object. The other man, saluting Mrs. Winslow cheerily, addressed a pleasant greeting to the lawyer's clerk, and said, in that same hearty, cordial voice already heard in the hall:

"This is Mrs. Christie, is it not?"

"Yes," answered Mrs. Winslow. "Permit me, Mrs. Christie, to introduce my brother, Mr. Frederick Allston, and another brother, Mr. Robert." She added this, turning towards the tall man, who arose hastily from his chair and bowed, while the short one extended his hand.

"I'm glad to meet you, Mrs. Christie," he said, and Mrs. Christie's grimly set face relaxed into an answering smile.

"And I know, without need of introduction," he continued, "that over here in the corner is the little mouse who has been making all the trouble."

He advanced and held out both his hands, taking the girl's in a strong, reassuring grasp, and looking into her face with so kindly and sympathetic an expression that Arabella never felt afraid of him again.

"Poor Jack's daughter," he murmured, "and very like, don't you think so, Clara?"

Was it a tear that glistened in the eyes looking into her own? Arabella could not be sure.

"What is your name, my dear?" he inquired.

"Arabella," answered the girl.

"Of course," interposed Mrs. Winslow, "her real name, as you know, is Anna Rosetta. She was called Arabella by Mrs. Christie because of the three initials on the locket, A. R. A. Wasn't it a good idea? So clever and original."

She included all the spectators in her glance, and the tall man answered:

"Oh, yes, by Jove, very clever."

The short man made no comment.

"Mrs. Christie," he said, still holding Arabella's hand in his, "you have taken excellent care of this, our little girl."

"I couldn't do much for her," blurted out Mrs. Christie, "I hadn't the means nor the time."

This speech, in its blunt honesty, commended itself to Mr. Frederick, and even his languid brother regarded the speaker with a touch of interest. Honesty is always a respectable quality, and commands favorable attention. After that they got to business, only it was first proposed that Arabella might as well retire.

"She will be better with the children while these matters are being discussed," suggested the short gentleman.

Mrs. Winslow agreed with this proposition, and Mr. Robert languidly examined his fingernails and offered no opinion. Arabella cast a terrified glance towards Mrs. Christie. She felt as if she were being torn from a strong bulwark of protection, but Mrs. Christie, though reciprocating the sentiment, was powerless. Her presence and testimony were indispensable at the proposed business conference.

"I think I shall ask Carrie to come and get her," suggested Mrs. Winslow to Mr. Frederick, who nodded approval, and an order was given. When the door opened again Arabella thought it was a vision which appeared upon the threshold. A little girl with large, soft, violet eyes, and hair carefully curled, which fell in a golden shower over the white dress she wore. She advanced, smiling, into the room, where she was warmly greeted by the two men, even Mr. Robert forsaking his finger-nails and calling her by a pet name, which sounded at once appropriate and caressing.

"Carrie," said Mrs. Winslow, leading her over to the corner where poor Arabella sat gazing, "this is your cousin" — there was ever so slight a pause before the word — "Anna Rosetta."

"Otherwise Arabella," laughed the short man. And this was the introduction.