The Europeans

by Henry James

  CHAPTER XII

  Felix allowed Charlotte time to plead his cause; and then, on the thirdday, he sought an interview with his uncle. It was in the morning;Mr. Wentworth was in his office; and, on going in, Felix found thatCharlotte was at that moment in conference with her father. She had, infact, been constantly near him since her interview with Felix; shehad made up her mind that it was her duty to repeat very literally hercousin's passionate plea. She had accordingly followed Mr. Wentworthabout like a shadow, in order to find him at hand when she should havemustered sufficient composure to speak. For poor Charlotte, in thismatter, naturally lacked composure; especially when she meditated uponsome of Felix's intimations. It was not cheerful work, at the best, tokeep giving small hammer-taps to the coffin in which one had laidaway, for burial, the poor little unacknowledged offspring of one's ownmisbehaving heart; and the occupation was not rendered more agreeableby the fact that the ghost of one's stifled dream had been summoned fromthe shades by the strange, bold words of a talkative young foreigner.What had Felix meant by saying that Mr. Brand was not so keen? Toherself her sister's justly depressed suitor had shown no sign offaltering. Charlotte trembled all over when she allowed herself tobelieve for an instant now and then that, privately, Mr. Brand mighthave faltered; and as it seemed to give more force to Felix's words torepeat them to her father, she was waiting until she should have taughtherself to be very calm. But she had now begun to tell Mr. Wentworththat she was extremely anxious. She was proceeding to develop this idea,to enumerate the objects of her anxiety, when Felix came in.

  Mr. Wentworth sat there, with his legs crossed, lifting his dry, purecountenance from the Boston "Advertiser." Felix entered smiling, as ifhe had something particular to say, and his uncle looked at him as ifhe both expected and deprecated this event. Felix vividly expressinghimself had come to be a formidable figure to his uncle, who had not yetarrived at definite views as to a proper tone. For the first time inhis life, as I have said, Mr. Wentworth shirked a responsibility; heearnestly desired that it might not be laid upon him to determine howhis nephew's lighter propositions should be treated. He lived under anapprehension that Felix might yet beguile him into assent to doubtfulinductions, and his conscience instructed him that the best form ofvigilance was the avoidance of discussion. He hoped that the pleasantepisode of his nephew's visit would pass away without a further lapse ofconsistency.

  Felix looked at Charlotte with an air of understanding, and then at Mr.Wentworth, and then at Charlotte again. Mr. Wentworth bent his refinedeyebrows upon his nephew and stroked down the first page of the"Advertiser." "I ought to have brought a bouquet," said Felix, laughing."In France they always do."

  "We are not in France," observed Mr. Wentworth, gravely, while Charlotteearnestly gazed at him.

  "No, luckily, we are not in France, where I am afraid I should havea harder time of it. My dear Charlotte, have you rendered me thatdelightful service?" And Felix bent toward her as if some one had beenpresenting him.

  Charlotte looked at him with almost frightened eyes; and Mr. Wentworththought this might be the beginning of a discussion. "What is thebouquet for?" he inquired, by way of turning it off.

  Felix gazed at him, smiling. "Pour la demande!" And then, drawing upa chair, he seated himself, hat in hand, with a kind of conscioussolemnity.

  Presently he turned to Charlotte again. "My good Charlotte, my admirableCharlotte," he murmured, "you have not played me false--you have notsided against me?"

  Charlotte got up, trembling extremely, though imperceptibly. "You mustspeak to my father yourself," she said. "I think you are clever enough."

  But Felix, rising too, begged her to remain. "I can speak better to anaudience!" he declared.

  "I hope it is nothing disagreeable," said Mr. Wentworth.

  "It 's something delightful, for me!" And Felix, laying down his hat,clasped his hands a little between his knees. "My dear uncle," he said,"I desire, very earnestly, to marry your daughter Gertrude." Charlottesank slowly into her chair again, and Mr. Wentworth sat staring, with alight in his face that might have been flashed back from an iceberg.He stared and stared; he said nothing. Felix fell back, with his handsstill clasped. "Ah--you don't like it. I was afraid!" He blushed deeply,and Charlotte noticed it--remarking to herself that it was the firsttime she had ever seen him blush. She began to blush herself and toreflect that he might be much in love.

  "This is very abrupt," said Mr. Wentworth, at last.

  "Have you never suspected it, dear uncle?" Felix inquired. "Well, thatproves how discreet I have been. Yes, I thought you would n't like it."

  "It is very serious, Felix," said Mr. Wentworth.

  "You think it 's an abuse of hospitality!" exclaimed Felix, smilingagain.

  "Of hospitality?--an abuse?" his uncle repeated very slowly.

  "That is what Felix said to me," said Charlotte, conscientiously.

  "Of course you think so; don't defend yourself!" Felix pursued. "Itis an abuse, obviously; the most I can claim is that it is perhaps apardonable one. I simply fell head over heels in love; one can hardlyhelp that. Though you are Gertrude's progenitor I don't believe youknow how attractive she is. Dear uncle, she contains the elements of asingularly--I may say a strangely--charming woman!"

  "She has always been to me an object of extreme concern," said Mr.Wentworth. "We have always desired her happiness."

  "Well, here it is!" Felix declared. "I will make her happy. She believesit, too. Now had n't you noticed that?"

  "I had noticed that she was much changed," Mr. Wentworth declared, ina tone whose unexpressive, unimpassioned quality appeared to Felix toreveal a profundity of opposition. "It may be that she is only becomingwhat you call a charming woman."

  "Gertrude, at heart, is so earnest, so true," said Charlotte, verysoftly, fastening her eyes upon her father.

  "I delight to hear you praise her!" cried Felix.

  "She has a very peculiar temperament," said Mr. Wentworth.

  "Eh, even that is praise!" Felix rejoined. "I know I am not the man youmight have looked for. I have no position and no fortune; I can giveGertrude no place in the world. A place in the world--that 's what sheought to have; that would bring her out."

  "A place to do her duty!" remarked Mr. Wentworth.

  "Ah, how charmingly she does it--her duty!" Felix exclaimed, with aradiant face. "What an exquisite conception she has of it! But she comeshonestly by that, dear uncle." Mr. Wentworth and Charlotte both lookedat him as if they were watching a greyhound doubling. "Of course withme she will hide her light under a bushel," he continued; "I being thebushel! Now I know you like me--you have certainly proved it. But youthink I am frivolous and penniless and shabby! Granted--granted--athousand times granted. I have been a loose fish--a fiddler, a painter,an actor. But there is this to be said: In the first place, I fancyyou exaggerate; you lend me qualities I have n't had. I have been aBohemian--yes; but in Bohemia I always passed for a gentleman. I wishyou could see some of my old camarades--they would tell you! It wasthe liberty I liked, but not the opportunities! My sins were allpeccadilloes; I always respected my neighbor's property--my neighbor'swife. Do you see, dear uncle?" Mr. Wentworth ought to have seen; hiscold blue eyes were intently fixed. "And then, c'est fini! It 's allover. Je me range. I have settled down to a jog-trot. I find I can earnmy living--a very fair one--by going about the world and paintingbad portraits. It 's not a glorious profession, but it is a perfectlyrespectable one. You won't deny that, eh? Going about the world, I say?I must not deny that, for that I am afraid I shall always do--in questof agreeable sitters. When I say agreeable, I mean susceptible ofdelicate flattery and prompt of payment. Gertrude declares she iswilling to share my wanderings and help to pose my models. She eventhinks it will be charming; and that brings me to my third point.Gertrude likes me. Encourage her a little and she will tell you so."

  Felix's tongue obviously moved much faster than the imagination of hisauditors; his eloquence, like the rocking of a boat in a dee
p, smoothlake, made long eddies of silence. And he seemed to be pleading andchattering still, with his brightly eager smile, his uplifted eyebrows,his expressive mouth, after he had ceased speaking, and while, with hisglance quickly turning from the father to the daughter, he sat waitingfor the effect of his appeal. "It is not your want of means," said Mr.Wentworth, after a period of severe reticence.

  "Now it 's delightful of you to say that! Only don't say it 's my wantof character. Because I have a character--I assure you I have; a smallone, a little slip of a thing, but still something tangible."

  "Ought you not to tell Felix that it is Mr. Brand, father?" Charlotteasked, with infinite mildness.

  "It is not only Mr. Brand," Mr. Wentworth solemnly declared. And helooked at his knee for a long time. "It is difficult to explain," hesaid. He wished, evidently, to be very just. "It rests on moral grounds,as Mr. Brand says. It is the question whether it is the best thing forGertrude."

  "What is better--what is better, dear uncle?" Felix rejoined urgently,rising in his urgency and standing before Mr. Wentworth. His uncle hadbeen looking at his knee; but when Felix moved he transferred his gazeto the handle of the door which faced him. "It is usually a fairly goodthing for a girl to marry the man she loves!" cried Felix.

  While he spoke, Mr. Wentworth saw the handle of the door begin to turn;the door opened and remained slightly ajar, until Felix had deliveredhimself of the cheerful axiom just quoted. Then it opened altogetherand Gertrude stood there. She looked excited; there was a spark in hersweet, dull eyes. She came in slowly, but with an air of resolution,and, closing the door softly, looked round at the three persons present.Felix went to her with tender gallantry, holding out his hand, andCharlotte made a place for her on the sofa. But Gertrude put her handsbehind her and made no motion to sit down.

  "We are talking of you!" said Felix.

  "I know it," she answered. "That 's why I came." And she fastened hereyes on her father, who returned her gaze very fixedly. In his own coldblue eyes there was a kind of pleading, reasoning light.

  "It is better you should be present," said Mr. Wentworth. "We arediscussing your future."

  "Why discuss it?" asked Gertrude. "Leave it to me."

  "That is, to me!" cried Felix.

  "I leave it, in the last resort, to a greater wisdom than ours," saidthe old man.

  Felix rubbed his forehead gently. "But en attendant the last resort,your father lacks confidence," he said to Gertrude.

  "Have n't you confidence in Felix?" Gertrude was frowning; there wassomething about her that her father and Charlotte had never seen.Charlotte got up and came to her, as if to put her arm round her; butsuddenly, she seemed afraid to touch her.

  Mr. Wentworth, however, was not afraid. "I have had more confidence inFelix than in you," he said.

  "Yes, you have never had confidence in me--never, never! I don't knowwhy."

  "Oh sister, sister!" murmured Charlotte.

  "You have always needed advice," Mr. Wentworth declared. "You have had adifficult temperament."

  "Why do you call it difficult? It might have been easy, if you hadallowed it. You would n't let me be natural. I don't know what youwanted to make of me. Mr. Brand was the worst."

  Charlotte at last took hold of her sister. She laid her two hands uponGertrude's arm. "He cares so much for you," she almost whispered.

  Gertrude looked at her intently an instant; then kissed her. "No, hedoes not," she said.

  "I have never seen you so passionate," observed Mr. Wentworth, with anair of indignation mitigated by high principles.

  "I am sorry if I offend you," said Gertrude.

  "You offend me, but I don't think you are sorry."

  "Yes, father, she is sorry," said Charlotte.

  "I would even go further, dear uncle," Felix interposed. "I wouldquestion whether she really offends you. How can she offend you?"

  To this Mr. Wentworth made no immediate answer. Then, in a moment, "Shehas not profited as we hoped."

  "Profited? Ah voila!" Felix exclaimed.

  Gertrude was very pale; she stood looking down. "I have told Felix Iwould go away with him," she presently said.

  "Ah, you have said some admirable things!" cried the young man.

  "Go away, sister?" asked Charlotte.

  "Away--away; to some strange country."

  "That is to frighten you," said Felix, smiling at Charlotte.

  "To--what do you call it?" asked Gertrude, turning an instant to Felix."To Bohemia."

  "Do you propose to dispense with preliminaries?" asked Mr. Wentworth,getting up.

  "Dear uncle, vous plaisantez!" cried Felix. "It seems to me that theseare preliminaries."

  Gertrude turned to her father. "I have profited," she said. "You wantedto form my character. Well, my character is formed--for my age. I knowwhat I want; I have chosen. I am determined to marry this gentleman."

  "You had better consent, sir," said Felix very gently.

  "Yes, sir, you had better consent," added a very different voice.

  Charlotte gave a little jump, and the others turned to the directionfrom which it had come. It was the voice of Mr. Brand, who had steppedthrough the long window which stood open to the piazza. He stood pattinghis forehead with his pocket-handkerchief; he was very much flushed; hisface wore a singular expression.

  "Yes, sir, you had better consent," Mr. Brand repeated, coming forward."I know what Miss Gertrude means."

  "My dear friend!" murmured Felix, laying his hand caressingly on theyoung minister's arm.

  Mr. Brand looked at him; then at Mr. Wentworth; lastly at Gertrude. Hedid not look at Charlotte. But Charlotte's earnest eyes were fastenedto his own countenance; they were asking an immense question of it.The answer to this question could not come all at once; but some of theelements of it were there. It was one of the elements of it that Mr.Brand was very red, that he held his head very high, that he had abright, excited eye and an air of embarrassed boldness--the air of aman who has taken a resolve, in the execution of which he apprehendsthe failure, not of his moral, but of his personal, resources. Charlottethought he looked very grand; and it is incontestable that Mr. Brandfelt very grand. This, in fact, was the grandest moment of his life;and it was natural that such a moment should contain opportunities ofawkwardness for a large, stout, modest young man.

  "Come in, sir," said Mr. Wentworth, with an angular wave of his hand."It is very proper that you should be present."

  "I know what you are talking about," Mr. Brand rejoined. "I heard whatyour nephew said."

  "And he heard what you said!" exclaimed Felix, patting him again on thearm.

  "I am not sure that I understood," said Mr. Wentworth, who hadangularity in his voice as well as in his gestures.

  Gertrude had been looking hard at her former suitor. She had beenpuzzled, like her sister; but her imagination moved more quickly thanCharlotte's. "Mr. Brand asked you to let Felix take me away," she saidto her father.

  The young minister gave her a strange look. "It is not because I don'twant to see you any more," he declared, in a tone intended as it werefor publicity.

  "I should n't think you would want to see me any more," Gertrudeanswered, gently.

  Mr. Wentworth stood staring. "Is n't this rather a change, sir?" heinquired.

  "Yes, sir." And Mr. Brand looked anywhere; only still not at Charlotte."Yes, sir," he repeated. And he held his handkerchief a few moments tohis lips.

  "Where are our moral grounds?" demanded Mr. Wentworth, who had alwaysthought Mr. Brand would be just the thing for a younger daughter with apeculiar temperament.

  "It is sometimes very moral to change, you know," suggested Felix.

  Charlotte had softly left her sister's side. She had edged gently towardher father, and now her hand found its way into his arm. Mr. Wentworthhad folded up the "Advertiser" into a surprisingly small compass, and,holding the roll with one hand, he earnestly clasped it with the other.Mr. Brand was looking at him; and yet, though Charlotte was so ne
ar, hiseyes failed to meet her own. Gertrude watched her sister.

  "It is better not to speak of change," said Mr. Brand. "In one sensethere is no change. There was something I desired--something I asked ofyou; I desire something still--I ask it of you." And he paused a moment;Mr. Wentworth looked bewildered. "I should like, in my ministerialcapacity, to unite this young couple."

  Gertrude, watching her sister, saw Charlotte flushing intensely, and Mr.Wentworth felt her pressing upon his arm. "Heavenly Powers!" murmuredMr. Wentworth. And it was the nearest approach to profanity he had evermade.

  "That is very nice; that is very handsome!" Felix exclaimed.

  "I don't understand," said Mr. Wentworth; though it was plain that everyone else did.

  "That is very beautiful, Mr. Brand," said Gertrude, emulating Felix.

  "I should like to marry you. It will give me great pleasure."

  "As Gertrude says, it 's a beautiful idea," said Felix.

  Felix was smiling, but Mr. Brand was not even trying to. He himselftreated his proposition very seriously. "I have thought of it, and Ishould like to do it," he affirmed.

  Charlotte, meanwhile, was staring with expanded eyes. Her imagination,as I have said, was not so rapid as her sister's, but now it had takenseveral little jumps. "Father," she murmured, "consent!"

  Mr. Brand heard her; he looked away. Mr. Wentworth, evidently, had noimagination at all. "I have always thought," he began, slowly, "thatGertrude's character required a special line of development."

  "Father," repeated Charlotte, "consent."

  Then, at last, Mr. Brand looked at her. Her father felt her leaning moreheavily upon his folded arm than she had ever done before; and this,with a certain sweet faintness in her voice, made him wonder what wasthe matter. He looked down at her and saw the encounter of her gaze withthe young theologian's; but even this told him nothing, and he continuedto be bewildered. Nevertheless, "I consent," he said at last, "since Mr.Brand recommends it."

  "I should like to perform the ceremony very soon," observed Mr. Brand,with a sort of solemn simplicity.

  "Come, come, that 's charming!" cried Felix, profanely.

  Mr. Wentworth sank into his chair. "Doubtless, when you understand it,"he said, with a certain judicial asperity.

  Gertrude went to her sister and led her away, and Felix having passedhis arm into Mr. Brand's and stepped out of the long window with him,the old man was left sitting there in unillumined perplexity.

  Felix did no work that day. In the afternoon, with Gertrude, he got intoone of the boats and floated about with idly-dipping oars. They talked agood deal of Mr. Brand--though not exclusively.

  "That was a fine stroke," said Felix. "It was really heroic."

  Gertrude sat musing, with her eyes upon the ripples. "That was what hewanted to be; he wanted to do something fine."

  "He won't be comfortable till he has married us," said Felix. "So muchthe better."

  "He wanted to be magnanimous; he wanted to have a fine moral pleasure.I know him so well," Gertrude went on. Felix looked at her; she spokeslowly, gazing at the clear water. "He thought of it a great deal, nightand day. He thought it would be beautiful. At last he made up his mindthat it was his duty, his duty to do just that--nothing less than that.He felt exalted; he felt sublime. That 's how he likes to feel. It isbetter for him than if I had listened to him."

  "It 's better for me," smiled Felix. "But do you know, as regards thesacrifice, that I don't believe he admired you when this decision wastaken quite so much as he had done a fortnight before?"

  "He never admired me. He admires Charlotte; he pitied me. I know him sowell."

  "Well, then, he did n't pity you so much."

  Gertrude looked at Felix a little, smiling. "You should n't permityourself," she said, "to diminish the splendor of his action. He admiresCharlotte," she repeated.

  "That's capital!" said Felix laughingly, and dipping his oars. I cannotsay exactly to which member of Gertrude's phrase he alluded; but hedipped his oars again, and they kept floating about.

  Neither Felix nor his sister, on that day, was present at Mr.Wentworth's at the evening repast. The two occupants of the chalet dinedtogether, and the young man informed his companion that his marriage wasnow an assured fact. Eugenia congratulated him, and replied that if hewere as reasonable a husband as he had been, on the whole, a brother,his wife would have nothing to complain of.

  Felix looked at her a moment, smiling. "I hope," he said, "not to bethrown back on my reason."

  "It is very true," Eugenia rejoined, "that one's reason is dismallyflat. It 's a bed with the mattress removed."

  But the brother and sister, later in the evening, crossed over tothe larger house, the Baroness desiring to compliment her prospectivesister-in-law. They found the usual circle upon the piazza, with theexception of Clifford Wentworth and Lizzie Acton; and as every one stoodup as usual to welcome the Baroness, Eugenia had an admiring audiencefor her compliment to Gertrude.

  Robert Acton stood on the edge of the piazza, leaning against one ofthe white columns, so that he found himself next to Eugenia while sheacquitted herself of a neat little discourse of congratulation.

  "I shall be so glad to know you better," she said; "I have seen so muchless of you than I should have liked. Naturally; now I see the reasonwhy! You will love me a little, won't you? I think I may say I gainon being known." And terminating these observations with the softestcadence of her voice, the Baroness imprinted a sort of grand officialkiss upon Gertrude's forehead.

  Increased familiarity had not, to Gertrude's imagination, diminishedthe mysterious impressiveness of Eugenia's personality, and she feltflattered and transported by this little ceremony. Robert Actonalso seemed to admire it, as he admired so many of the graciousmanifestations of Madame Munster's wit.

  They had the privilege of making him restless, and on this occasion hewalked away, suddenly, with his hands in his pockets, and then came backand leaned against his column. Eugenia was now complimenting her uncleupon his daughter's engagement, and Mr. Wentworth was listening with hisusual plain yet refined politeness. It is to be supposed that by thistime his perception of the mutual relations of the young people whosurrounded him had become more acute; but he still took the matter veryseriously, and he was not at all exhilarated.

  "Felix will make her a good husband," said Eugenia. "He will be acharming companion; he has a great quality--indestructible gayety."

  "You think that 's a great quality?" asked the old man.

  Eugenia meditated, with her eyes upon his. "You think one gets tired ofit, eh?"

  "I don't know that I am prepared to say that," said Mr. Wentworth.

  "Well, we will say, then, that it is tiresome for others but delightfulfor one's self. A woman's husband, you know, is supposed to be hersecond self; so that, for Felix and Gertrude, gayety will be a commonproperty."

  "Gertrude was always very gay," said Mr. Wentworth. He was trying tofollow this argument.

  Robert Acton took his hands out of his pockets and came a little nearerto the Baroness. "You say you gain by being known," he said. "Onecertainly gains by knowing you."

  "What have you gained?" asked Eugenia.

  "An immense amount of wisdom."

  "That 's a questionable advantage for a man who was already so wise!"

  Acton shook his head. "No, I was a great fool before I knew you!"

  "And being a fool you made my acquaintance? You are very complimentary."

  "Let me keep it up," said Acton, laughing. "I hope, for our pleasure,that your brother's marriage will detain you."

  "Why should I stop for my brother's marriage when I would not stop formy own?" asked the Baroness.

  "Why should n't you stop in either case, now that, as you say, you havedissolved that mechanical tie that bound you to Europe?"

  The Baroness looked at him a moment. "As I say? You look as if youdoubted it."

  "Ah," said Acton, returning her glance, "that is a remnant of my oldfolly! We
have other attractions," he added. "We are to have anothermarriage."

  But she seemed not to hear him; she was looking at him still. "My wordwas never doubted before," she said.

  "We are to have another marriage," Acton repeated, smiling.

  Then she appeared to understand. "Another marriage?" And she looked atthe others. Felix was chattering to Gertrude; Charlotte, at a distance,was watching them; and Mr. Brand, in quite another quarter, was turninghis back to them, and, with his hands under his coat-tails and his largehead on one side, was looking at the small, tender crescent of a youngmoon. "It ought to be Mr. Brand and Charlotte," said Eugenia, "but itdoes n't look like it."

  "There," Acton answered, "you must judge just now by contraries. Thereis more than there looks to be. I expect that combination one of thesedays; but that is not what I meant."

  "Well," said the Baroness, "I never guess my own lovers; so I can'tguess other people's."

  Acton gave a loud laugh, and he was about to add a rejoinder when Mr.Wentworth approached his niece. "You will be interested to hear," theold man said, with a momentary aspiration toward jocosity, "of anothermatrimonial venture in our little circle."

  "I was just telling the Baroness," Acton observed.

  "Mr. Acton was apparently about to announce his own engagement," saidEugenia.

  Mr. Wentworth's jocosity increased. "It is not exactly that; but itis in the family. Clifford, hearing this morning that Mr. Brand hadexpressed a desire to tie the nuptial knot for his sister, took it intohis head to arrange that, while his hand was in, our good friend shouldperform a like ceremony for himself and Lizzie Acton."

  The Baroness threw back her head and smiled at her uncle; then turning,with an intenser radiance, to Robert Acton, "I am certainly very stupidnot to have thought of that," she said. Acton looked down at hisboots, as if he thought he had perhaps reached the limits of legitimateexperimentation, and for a moment Eugenia said nothing more. It hadbeen, in fact, a sharp knock, and she needed to recover herself. Thiswas done, however, promptly enough. "Where are the young people?" sheasked.

  "They are spending the evening with my mother."

  "Is not the thing very sudden?"

  Acton looked up. "Extremely sudden. There had been a tacitunderstanding; but within a day or two Clifford appears to have receivedsome mysterious impulse to precipitate the affair."

  "The impulse," said the Baroness, "was the charms of your very prettysister."

  "But my sister's charms were an old story; he had always known her."Acton had begun to experiment again.

  Here, however, it was evident the Baroness would not help him. "Ah, onecan't say! Clifford is very young; but he is a nice boy."

  "He 's a likeable sort of boy, and he will be a rich man." This wasActon's last experiment. Madame Munster turned away.

  She made but a short visit and Felix took her home. In her littledrawing-room she went almost straight to the mirror over thechimney-piece, and, with a candle uplifted, stood looking into it. "Ishall not wait for your marriage," she said to her brother. "To-morrowmy maid shall pack up."

  "My dear sister," Felix exclaimed, "we are to be married immediately!Mr. Brand is too uncomfortable."

  But Eugenia, turning and still holding her candle aloft, only lookedabout the little sitting-room at her gimcracks and curtains andcushions. "My maid shall pack up," she repeated. "Bonte divine, whatrubbish! I feel like a strolling actress; these are my 'properties.'"

  "Is the play over, Eugenia?" asked Felix.

  She gave him a sharp glance. "I have spoken my part."

  "With great applause!" said her brother.

  "Oh, applause--applause!" she murmured. And she gathered up two or threeof her dispersed draperies. She glanced at the beautiful brocade, andthen, "I don't see how I can have endured it!" she said.

  "Endure it a little longer. Come to my wedding."

  "Thank you; that 's your affair. My affairs are elsewhere."

  "Where are you going?"

  "To Germany--by the first ship."

  "You have decided not to marry Mr. Acton?"

  "I have refused him," said Eugenia.

  Her brother looked at her in silence. "I am sorry," he rejoined at last."But I was very discreet, as you asked me to be. I said nothing."

  "Please continue, then, not to allude to the matter," said Eugenia.

  Felix inclined himself gravely. "You shall be obeyed. But your positionin Germany?" he pursued.

  "Please to make no observations upon it."

  "I was only going to say that I supposed it was altered."

  "You are mistaken."

  "But I thought you had signed"--

  "I have not signed!" said the Baroness.

  Felix urged her no further, and it was arranged that he shouldimmediately assist her to embark.

  Mr. Brand was indeed, it appeared, very impatient to consummate hissacrifice and deliver the nuptial benediction which would set it off sohandsomely; but Eugenia's impatience to withdraw from a country in whichshe had not found the fortune she had come to seek was even less to bemistaken. It is true she had not made any very various exertion; butshe appeared to feel justified in generalizing--in deciding that theconditions of action on this provincial continent were not favorableto really superior women. The elder world was, after all, their naturalfield. The unembarrassed directness with which she proceeded toapply these intelligent conclusions appeared to the little circle ofspectators who have figured in our narrative but the supreme exhibitionof a character to which the experience of life had imparted aninimitable pliancy. It had a distinct effect upon Robert Acton, who, forthe two days preceding her departure, was a very restless and irritatedmortal. She passed her last evening at her uncle's, where she had neverbeen more charming; and in parting with Clifford Wentworth's affiancedbride she drew from her own finger a curious old ring and presented itto her with the prettiest speech and kiss. Gertrude, who as an affiancedbride was also indebted to her gracious bounty, admired this littleincident extremely, and Robert Acton almost wondered whether it did notgive him the right, as Lizzie's brother and guardian, to offer in returna handsome present to the Baroness. It would have made him extremelyhappy to be able to offer a handsome present to the Baroness; but heabstained from this expression of his sentiments, and they were inconsequence, at the very last, by so much the less comfortable. It wasalmost at the very last that he saw her--late the night before she wentto Boston to embark.

  "For myself, I wish you might have stayed," he said. "But not for yourown sake."

  "I don't make so many differences," said the Baroness. "I am simplysorry to be going."

  "That 's a much deeper difference than mine," Acton declared; "for youmean you are simply glad!"

  Felix parted with her on the deck of the ship. "We shall often meet overthere," he said.

  "I don't know," she answered. "Europe seems to me much larger thanAmerica."

  Mr. Brand, of course, in the days that immediately followed, was not theonly impatient spirit; but it may be said that of all the young spiritsinterested in the event none rose more eagerly to the level of theoccasion. Gertrude left her father's house with Felix Young; they wereimperturbably happy and they went far away. Clifford and his young wifesought their felicity in a narrower circle, and the latter's influenceupon her husband was such as to justify, strikingly, that theory of theelevating effect of easy intercourse with clever women which Felix hadpropounded to Mr. Wentworth. Gertrude was for a good while a distantfigure, but she came back when Charlotte married Mr. Brand. She waspresent at the wedding feast, where Felix's gayety confessed to nochange. Then she disappeared, and the echo of a gayety of her own,mingled with that of her husband, often came back to the home of herearlier years. Mr. Wentworth at last found himself listening for it;and Robert Acton, after his mother's death, married a particularly niceyoung girl.

  The End

 
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