The Crisis — Complete

by Winston Churchill

  CHAPTER XIII. THE PARTY

  To gentle Miss Anne Brinsmade, to Puss Russell of the mischievous eyes,and even to timid Eugenie Renault, the question that burned was: Wouldhe come, or would he not? And, secondarily, how would Virginia treat himif he came? Put our friend Stephen for the subjective, and Miss Carversparty for the objective in the above, and we have the clew. For veryyoung girls are given to making much out of a very little in suchmatters. If Virginia had not gotten angry when she had been teased afortnight before, all would have been well.

  Even Puss, who walked where angels feared to tread, did not dare to gotoo far with Virginia. She had taken care before the day of the party tobeg forgiveness with considerable humility. It had been granted with aqueenly generosity. And after that none of the bevy had dared to broachthe subject to Virginia. Jack Brinsmade had. He told Puss afterward thatwhen Virginia got through with him, he felt as if he had taken a rapidtrip through the wheel-house of a large steamer. Puss tried, byvarious ingenious devices, to learn whether Mr. Brice had accepted hisinvitation. She failed.

  These things added a zest to a party long looked forward to amongstVirginia's intimates. In those days young ladies did not "come out" sofrankly as they do now. Mothers did not announce to the world that theypossessed marriageable daughters. The world was supposed to knowthat. And then the matrimonial market was feverishly active. Youngmen proposed as naturally as they now ask a young girl to go for awalk,--and were refused quite as naturally. An offer of marriage was notthe fearful and wonderful thing--to be dealt with gingerly--which it hassince become. Seventeen was often the age at which they began. And oneof the big Catherwood boys had a habit of laying his heart and hand atVirginia's feet once a month. Nor did his vanity suffer greatly when shelaughed at him.

  It was with a flutter of excitement, therefore, that Miss Carvel'sguests flitted past Jackson, who held the door open obsequiously. Theboldest of them took a rapid survey of the big parlor, before they putfoot on the stairs to see whether Mr. Brice had yet arrived. And iftheir curiosity held them too long, they were usually kissed by theColonel.

  Mr. Carvel shook hands heartily with the young mean and called them bytheir first names, for he knew most of their fathers and grandfathers.And if an older gentleman arrived, perhaps the two might be seen goingdown the hall together, arm in arm. So came his beloved enemy, JudgeWhipple, who did not make an excursion to the rear regions of the housewith the Colonel; but they stood and discussed Mr. President Buchanan'sresponsibility for the recent panic, until the band, which Mr. Hopperhad stationed under the stairs, drowned their voices.

  As we enter the room, there stands Virginia under the rainbowed prismsof the great chandelier, receiving. But here was suddenly a woman oftwenty-eight, where only this evening we knew a slip of a girl. It wasa trick she had, to become majestic in a ball-gown. She held her headhigh, as a woman should, and at her slender throat glowed the pearls ofDorothy Manners.

  The result of all this was to strike a little awe into the souls of manyof her playmates. Little Eugenie nearly dropped a curtsey. Belle Cluymewas so impressed that she forgot for a whole hour to be spiteful. ButPuss Russell kissed her on both cheeks, and asked her if she reallywasn't nervous.

  "Nervous!" exclaimed Jinny, "why?"

  Miss Russell glanced significantly towards the doorway. But she saidnothing to her hostess, for fear of marring an otherwise happy occasion.She retired with Jack Brim made to a corner, where she recited:--

  "Oh young Lochinvar is come out of the East; Of millions of Yankees I love him the least."

  "What a joke if he should come!" cried Jack.

  Miss Russell gasped.

  Just as Mr. Clarence Colfax, resplendent in new evening clothes justarrived from New York, was pressing his claim for the first dance withhis cousin in opposition to numerous other claims, the chatter of theguests died away. Virginia turned her head, and for an instant thepearls trembled on her neck. There was a young man cordially andunconcernedly shaking hands with her father and Captain Lige. Her memoryof that moment is, strangely, not of his face (she did not deign tolook at that), but of the muscle of his shoulder half revealed as hestretched forth his arm.

  Young Mr. Colfax bent over to her ear.

  "Virginia," he whispered earnestly, almost fiercely, "Virginia, whoinvited him here?"

  "I did," said Virginia, calmly, "of course. Who invites any one here?"

  "But!" cried Clarence, "do you know who he is?"

  "Yes," she answered, "I know. And is that any reason why he should notcome here as a guest? Would you bar any gentleman from your house onaccount of his convictions?"

  Ah, Virginia, who had thought to hear that argument from your lips? Whatwould frank Captain Lige say of the consistency of women, if he heardyou now? And how give an account of yourself to Anne Brinsmade? Whatcontrariness has set you so intense against your own argument?

  Before one can answer this, before Mr. Clarence can recover from hisastonishment and remind her of her vehement words on the subject atBellegarde, Mr. Stephen is making thither with the air of one whoconquers. Again the natural contrariness of women. What bare-facedimpudence! Has he no shame that he should hold his head so high?She feels her color mounting, even as her resentment rises at hisself-possession, and yet she would have despised him had he shownself-consciousness in gait or manner in the sight of her assembledguests. Nearly as tall as the Colonel himself, he is plainly seen, andMiss Puss in her corner does not have to stand on tiptoe. Mr. Carveldoes the honors of the introduction.

  But a daughter of the Carvels was not to fail before such a paltrysituation as this. Shall it be confessed that curiosity stepped into thebreach? As she gave him her hand she was wondering how he would act.

  As a matter of fact he acted detestably. He said nothing whatever, butstood regarding her with a clear eye and a face by far too severe.The thought that he was meditating on the incident of the auction salecrossed through her mind, and made her blood simmer. How dared he behaveso! The occasion called for a little small talk. An evil spirit tookpossession of Virginia. She turned.

  "Mr. Brice, do you know my cousin, Mr. Colfax?" she said.

  Mr. Brice bowed. "I know Mr. Colfax by sight," he replied.

  Then Mr. Colfax made a stiff bow. To this new phase his sense of humordid not rise. Mr. Brice was a Yankee and no gentleman, inasmuch as hehad overbid a lady for Hester.

  "Have you come here to live, Mr. Brice?" he asked.

  The Colonel eyed his nephew sharply. But Stephen smiled.

  "Yes," he said, "if I can presently make enough to keep me alive." Thenturning to Virginia, he said, "Will you dance, Miss Carvel?"

  The effrontery of this demand quite drew the breath from the impatientyoung gentlemen who had been waiting their turn. Several of them spokeup in remonstrance. And for the moment (let one confess it who knows),Virginia was almost tempted to lay her arm in his. Then she made a bowthat would have been quite as effective the length of the room.

  "Thank you, Mr. Brice," she said, "but I am engaged to Mr. Colfax."

  Abstractedly he watched her glide away in her cousin's arms. Stephen hada way of being preoccupied at such times. When he grew older hewould walk the length of Olive Street, look into face after faceof acquaintances, not a quiver of recognition in his eyes. But mostprobably the next week he would win a brilliant case in the SupremeCourt. And so now, indifferent to the amusement of some about him, hestood staring after Virginia and Clarence. Where had he seen Colfax'sface before he came West? Ah, he knew. Many, many years before hehad stood with his father in the mellow light of the long gallery atHollingdean, Kent, before a portrait of the Stuarts' time. The face wasthat of one of Lord Northwell's ancestors, a sporting nobleman of thetime of the second Charles. It was a head which compelled one to pausebefore it. Strangely enough,--it was the head likewise of ClarenceColfax.

  The image of it Stephen had carried undimmed in the eye of his memory.White-haired Northwell's story, also. It was not a story that Mr
. Bricehad expected his small son to grasp. As a matter of fact Stephen had notgrasped it then--but years afterward. It was not a pleasant story,--andyet there was much of credit in it to the young rake its subject,--ofdash and courage and princely generosity beside the profligacy andincontinence.

  The face had impressed him, with its story. He had often dreamed of it,and of the lace collar over the dull-gold velvet that became it so well.And here it was at last, in a city west of the Mississippi River. Herewere the same delicately chiselled features, with their pallor, andsatiety engraved there at one and twenty. Here was the same lazy scornin the eyes, and the look which sleeplessness gives to the lids: thehair, straight and fine and black; the wilful indulgence--not of onelife, but of generations--about the mouth; the pointed chin. And yet itwas a fact to dare anything, and to do anything.

  One thing more ere we have done with that which no man may explain. Hadhe dreamed, too, of the girl? Of Virginia? Stephen might not tell, butthrice had the Colonel spoken to him before he answered.

  "You must meet some of these young ladies, sir."

  It was little wonder that Puss Russell thought him dull on that firstoccasion. Out of whom condescension is to flow is a matter of whichHeaven takes no cognizance. To use her own words, Puss thought him"stuck up," when he should have been grateful. We know that Stephenwas not stuck up, and later Miss Russell learned that likewise. Verynaturally she took preoccupation for indifference. It is a matter worthrecording, however, that she did not tease him, because she did notdare. He did not ask her to dance, which was rude. So she passed himback to Mr. Carvel, who introduced him to Miss Renault and Miss SaintCyr, and other young ladies of the best French families. And finally,drifting hither and thither with his eyes on Virginia, in an evil momenthe was presented to Mrs. Colfax. Perhaps it has been guessed that Mrs.Colfax was a very great lady indeed, albeit the daughter of an overseer.She bore Addison Colfax's name, spent his fortune, and retained her goodlooks. On this particular occasion she was enjoying herself quite asmuch as any young girl in the room, and, while resting from a waltz, wasregaling a number of gentlemen with a humorous account of a scandal atthe Virginia Spring's.

  None but a great lady could have meted out the punishment administeredto poor Stephen. None but a great lady could have concerned it. And he,who had never been snubbed before, fell headlong into her trap. Howwas the boy to know that there was no heart in the smile with which shegreeted him? It was all over in an instant. She continued to talk aboutVirginia Springs, "Oh, Mr. Brice, of course you have been there. Ofcourse you know the Edmunds. No? You haven't been there? You don't knowthe Edmunds? I thought every body had been there. Charles, you lookas if you were just dying to waltz. Let's have a turn before the musicstops."

  And so she whirled away, leaving Stephen forlorn, a little too angry tobe amused just then. In that state he spied a gentleman coming towardshim--a gentleman the sight of whom he soon came to associate with allthat is good and kindly in this world, Mr. Brinsmade. And now he put hishand on Stephen's shoulder. Whether he had seen the incident just past,who can tell?

  "My son," said he, "I am delighted to see you here. Now that we are suchnear neighbors, we must be nearer friends. You must know my wife, and myson Jack, and my daughter Anne."

  Mrs. Brinsmade was a pleasant little body, but plainly not a fit matefor her husband. Jack gave Stephen a warm grasp of the hand, andan amused look. As for Anne, she was more like her father; she wasStephen's friend from that hour.

  "I have seen you quite often, going in at your gate, Mr. Brice. AndI have seen your mother, too. I like her," said Anne. "She has such awonderful face." And the girl raised her truthful blue eyes to his.

  "My mother would be delighted to know you," he ventured, not knowingwhat else to say. It was an effort for him to reflect upon their newsituation as poor tenants to a wealthy family.

  "Oh, do you think so?" cried Anne. "I shall call on her to-morrow, withmother. Do you know, Mr. Brice," she continued, "do you know that yourmother is just the person I should go to if I were in trouble, whether Iknew her or not?"

  "I have found her a good person in trouble," said Stephen, simply. Hemight have said the same of Anne.

  Anne was enchanted. She had thought him cold, but these words beliedthat. She had wrapped him in that diaphanous substance with which youngladies (and sometimes older ones) are wont to deck their heroes. She hadapproached a mystery--to find it human, as are many mysteries. But thankheaven that she found a dignity, a seriousness,--and these more thansatisfied her. Likewise, she discovered something she had not lookedfor, an occasional way of saying things that made her laugh. She dancedwith him, and passed him back to Miss Puss Russell, who was betterpleased this time; she passed him on to her sister, who also danced withhim, and sent him upstairs for her handkerchief.

  Nevertheless, Stephen was troubled. As the evening wore on, he was moreand more aware of an uncompromising attitude in his young hostess, whomhe had seen whispering to various young ladies from behind her fan asthey passed her. He had not felt equal to asking her to dance a secondtime. Honest Captain Lige Breast, who seemed to have taken a fancy tohim, bandied him on his lack of courage with humor that was a littlerough. And, to Stephen's amazement, even Judge Whipple had pricked himon.

  It was on his way upstairs after Emily Russell's handkerchief thathe ran across another acquaintance. Mr. Eliphalet Hopper, in Sundaybroadcloth, was seated on the landing, his head lowered to the level ofthe top of the high door of the parlor. Stephen caught a glimpse of thepicture whereon his eyes were fixed. Perhaps it is needless to add thatMiss Virginia Carvel formed the central figure of it.

  "Enjoy in' yourself?" asked Mr. Hopper.

  Stephen countered.

  "Are you?" he asked.

  "So so," said Mr. Hopper, and added darkly: "I ain't in no hurry. Justnow they callate I'm about good enough to manage the business end ofan affair like this here. I guess I can wait. But some day," said he,suddenly barring Stephen's way, "some day I'll give a party. And hark tome when I tell you that these here aristocrats 'll be glad enough to getinvitations."

  Stephen pushed past coldly. This time the man made him shiver. Theincident was all that was needed to dishearten and disgust him. Kindlyas he had been treated by others, far back in his soul was a thing thatrankled. Shall it be told crudely why he went that night? StephenBrice, who would not lie to others, lied to himself. And when he camedownstairs again and presented Miss Emily with her handkerchief,his next move was in his mind. And that was to say good-night to theColonel, and more frigidly to Miss Carvel herself. But music has upsetmany a man's calculations.

  The strains of the Jenny Lind waltz were beginning to float through therooms. There was Miss Virginia in a corner of the big parlor, for themoment alone with her cousin. And thither Stephen sternly strode. Not asign did she give of being aware of his presence until he stood beforeher. Even then she did not lift her eyes. But she said: "So you havecome at last to try again, Mr. Brice?"

  And Mr. Brice said: "If you will do me the honor, Miss Carvel."

  She did not reply at once. Clarence Colfax got to his feet. Then shelooked up at the two men as they stood side by side, and perhaps sweptthem both in an instant's comparison.

  The New Englander's face must have reminded her more of her own father,Colonel Carvel. It possessed, from generations known, the power tocontrol itself. She afterwards admitted that she accepted him to teaseClarence. Miss Russell, whose intuitions are usually correct, does notbelieve this.

  "I will dance with you," said Virginia.

  But, once in his arms, she seemed like a wild thing, resisting. Althoughher gown brushed his coat, the space between them was infinite, and herhand lay limp in his, unresponsive of his own pressure. Not so her feet;they caught the step and moved with the rhythm of the music, and roundthe room they swung. More than one pair paused in the dance to watchthem. Then, as they glided past the door, Stephen was disagreeablyconscious of some one gazing down from above, and he recalled
EliphaletHopper and his position. The sneer from Eliphalet's seemed to penetratelike a chilly draught.

  All at once, Virginia felt her partner gathering up his strength, andby some compelling force, more of wild than of muscle, draw her nearer.Unwillingly her hand tightened under his, and her blood beat fasterand her color came and went as they two moved as one. Anger--helplessanger--took possession of her as she saw the smiles on the faces of herfriends, and Puss Russell mockingly throwing a kiss as she passed her.And then, strange in the telling, a thrill as of power rose within herwhich she strove against in vain. A knowledge of him who guided her soswiftly, so unerringly, which she had felt with no other man. Faster andfaster they stepped, each forgetful of self and place, until the waltzcame suddenly to a stop.

  "By gum!" said Captain Lige to Judge Whipple, "you can whollop me on myown forecastle if they ain't the handsomest couple I ever did see."

  BOOK II.

  Volume 3.