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WHEN ALFRED PRICE FELL IN LOVE WITH MISS LETTY MORRIS]
An Encore
BY
MARGARET DELAND
AUTHOR OF
"THE AWAKENING OF HELENA RICHIE" "DR. LAVENDER'S PEOPLE" "OLD CHESTER TALES" ETC. ETC.
ILLUSTRATED BY ALICE BARBER STEPHENS
NEW YORK AND LONDON HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS MCMVII
Copyright, 1904, 1907, by HARPER & BROTHERS.
_All rights reserved._ Published October, 1907.
Illustrations
"WHEN ALFRED PRICE FELL IN LOVE WITH MISS LETTY MORRIS" _Frontispiece_
"THE CAPTAIN AND CYRUS WERE AFRAID OF GUSSIE" _Facing p_ 18
"THERE WAS A LITTLE SILENCE, AND THEN DR. LAVENDER BEGAN" " 76
An Encore
According to Old Chester, to be romantic was just one shade lessreprehensible than to put on airs. Captain Alfred Price, in all hisseventy years, had never been guilty of putting on airs, but certainlyhe had something to answer for in the way of romance.
However, in the days when we children used to see him pounding up thestreet from the post-office, reading, as he walked, a newspaper held atarm's-length in front of him, he was far enough from romance. He wasseventy years old, he weighed over two hundred pounds, his big head wascovered with a shock of grizzled red hair; his pleasures consisted inpolishing his old sextant and playing on a small mouth-harmonicon. As tohis vices, it was no secret that he kept a fat black bottle in thechimney-closet in his own room, and occasionally he swore strange oathsabout his grandmother's nightcap. "He used to blaspheme," hisdaughter-in-law said; "but I said, 'Not in my presence, if you please!'So now he just says this foolish thing about a nightcap." Mrs. Draytonsaid that this reform would be one of the jewels in Mrs. Cyrus Price'scrown; and added that she prayed that some day the Captain would give uptobacco and _rum_. "I am a poor, feeble creature," said Mrs. Drayton; "Icannot do much for my fellow-men in active mission-work,--but I give myprayers." However, neither Mrs. Drayton's prayers nor Mrs. Cyrus'sactive mission-work had done more than mitigate the blasphemy; the "rum"(which was good Monongahela whiskey) was still on hand; and as fortobacco, except when sleeping, eating, playing on his harmonicon, ordozing through one of Dr. Lavendar's sermons, the Captain smoked everymoment, the ashes of his pipe or cigar falling unheeded on a vast andwrinkled expanse of waistcoat.
No; he was not a romantic object. But we girls, watching him stump pastthe school-room window to the post-office, used to whisper to oneanother, "Just think! _he eloped._"
There was romance for you!
To be sure, the elopement had not quite come off, but except for thevery end, it was all as perfect as a story. Indeed, the failure at theend made it all the better: angry parents, broken hearts--only, theworst of it was, the hearts did not stay broken! He went and marriedsomebody else; and so did she. You would have supposed she would havedied. I am sure, in her place, any one of us would have died. And yet,as Lydia Wright said, "How could a young lady die for a young gentlemanwith ashes all over his waistcoat?"
But when Alfred Price fell in love with Miss Letty Morris, he was notindifferent to his waistcoat, nor did he weigh two hundred pounds. Hewas slender and ruddy-cheeked, with tossing red-brown curls. If heswore, it was not by his grandmother nor her nightcap; if he drank, itwas hard cider (which can often accomplish as much as "rum"); if hesmoked it was in secret, behind the stable. He wore a stock, and (onSunday) a ruffled shirt; a high-waisted coat with two brass buttonsbehind, and very tight pantaloons. At that time he attended the Seminaryfor Youths in Upper Chester. Upper Chester was then, as in our time, theseat of learning in the township, the Female Academy being there, too.Both were boarding-schools, but the young people came home to spendSunday; and their weekly returns, all together in the stage, wereresponsible for more than one Old Chester match....
"The air," says Miss, sniffing genteelly as the coach jolts past theblossoming May orchards, "is most agreeably perfumed. And how fair isthe prospect from this hill-top!"
"Fair indeed!" responds her companion, staring boldly.
Miss bridles and bites her lip.
"_I_ was not observing the landscape," the young gentleman hastens toexplain.
In those days (Miss Letty was born in 1804, and was eighteen when sheand the ruddy Alfred sat on the back seat of the coach)--in those daysthe conversation of Old Chester youth was more elegant than in our time.We, who went to Miss Bailey's school, were sad degenerates in the way ofmanners and language; at least so our elders told us. When Lydia Wrightsaid, "Oh my, what an awful snow-storm!" dear Miss Ellen was displeased."Lydia," said she, "is there anything 'awe'-inspiring in this display ofthe elements?"
"No, 'm," faltered poor Lydia.
"Then," said Miss Bailey, gravely, "your statement that the storm is'awful' is a falsehood. I do not suppose, my dear, that youintentionally told an untruth; it was an exaggeration. But anexaggeration, though not perhaps a falsehood, is unladylike, and shouldbe avoided by persons of refinement." Just here the question arises:what would Miss Ellen (now in heaven) say if she could hear Lydia'sLydia, just home from college, remark-- But no: Miss Ellen's preceptsshall protect these pages.
But in the days when Letty Morris looked out of the coach window, andyoung Alfred murmured that the prospect was fair indeed, conversationwas perfectly correct. And it was still decorous even when it got beyondthe coach period and reached a point where Old Chester began to takenotice. At first it was young Old Chester which giggled. Later old OldChester made some comments; it was then that Alfred's mother mentionedthe matter to Alfred's father. "He is young, and, of course, foolish,"Mrs. Price explained. And Mr. Price said that though folly wasincidental to Alfred's years, it must be checked.
"Just check it," said Mr. Price.
Then Miss Letty's mother awoke to the situation, and said, "Fy, fy,Letitia! let me hear no more of this foolishness."
So it was that these two young persons were plunged in grief. Oh,glorious grief of thwarted love! When they met now, they did not talk ofthe landscape. Their conversation, though no doubt as genteel as before,was all of broken hearts. But again Letty's mother found out, and wentin wrath to call on Alfred's family. It was decided between them thatthe young man should be sent away from home. "To save him," says thefather. "To protect my daughter," says Mrs. Morris.
But Alfred and Letty had something to say.... It was in December; therewas a snow-storm--a storm which Lydia Wright would certainly have called"awful"; but it did not interfere with true love; these two children metin the graveyard to swear undying constancy. Alfred's lantern cametwinkling through the flakes, as he threaded his way across thehill-side among the tombstones, and found Letty just inside theentrance, standing with her black serving-woman under a tulip-tree. Thenegress, chattering with cold and fright, kept plucking at the girl'spelisse to hurry her; but once Alfred was at her side, Letty wasindifferent to storm and ghosts. As for Alfred, he was too cast down tothink of them.
"Letty, they will part us."
"No, my dear Alfred, no!"
"Yes. Yes, they will. Oh, if you were only mine!"
Miss Letty sighed.
"Will you be true to me, Letty? I am to go on a sailing-vessel to China,to be gone two years. Will you wait for me?"
Letty gave a little cry; two years! Her black woman twitched her sleeve.
"Miss Let, it's gittin' cole, honey."
"(Don't, Flora.)--Alfred, _two years_! Oh, Alfred, that is an eternity.Why, I should be--I
should be twenty!"
The lantern, set on a tombstone beside them, blinked in a snowy gust.Alfred covered his face with his hands--he was shaken to his soul; thelittle, gay creature beside him thrilled at a sound from behind thosehands.
"Alfred,"--she said, faintly; then she hid her face against his arm; "mydear Alfred, I will, if you desire it--fly with you!"
Alfred, with a gasp, lifted his head and stared at her. His slower mindhad seen nothing but separation and despair; but the moment the word wassaid he was aflame. What! Would she? Could she? Adorable creature!
"Miss Let, my feet done git cole--"
"(Flora, be still!)--Yes, Alfred, yes. I am thine."
The boy caught her in his arms. "But I am to be sent away on Monday! Myangel, could you--fly, to-morrow?"
And Letty, her face still hidden against his, shoulder, nodded.
Then, while the shivering Flora stamped, and beat her arms, and thelantern flared and sizzled, Alfred made their plans, which were simpleto the point of childishness. "My own!" he said, when it was allarranged; then he held the lantern up and looked into her face, blushingand determined, with snowflakes gleaming on the curls that pushed outfrom under her big hood. "You will meet me at the minister's?" he said,passionately. "You will not fail me?"
"I will not fail you!" she said; and laughed joyously; but the youngman's face was white.
She kept her word; and with the assistance of Flora, romantic again whenher feet were warm, all went as they planned. Clothes were packed,savings-banks opened, and a chaise abstracted from the Price stable.
"It is my intention," said the youth, "to return to my father the valueof the vehicle and nag, as soon as I can secure a position which willenable me to support my Letty in comfort and fashion."
On the night of the elopement the two children met at the minister'shouse. (Yes, the very old Rectory to which we Old Chester children wentevery Saturday afternoon to Dr. Lavendar's Collect class. But of coursethere was no Dr. Lavendar there in those days).
Well; Alfred requested this minister to pronounce them man and wife; buthe coughed and poked the fire. "I am of age," Alfred insisted; "I amtwenty-two." Then Mr. Smith said he must first go and put on his bandsand surplice; and Alfred said, "If you please, sir." And off went Mr.Smith--_and sent a note to Alfred's father and Letty's mother_!
We girls used to wonder what the lovers talked about while they waitedfor the return of the surpliced traitor. Ellen Dale always said theywere foolish to wait. "Why didn't they go right off?" said Ellen. "If_I_ were going to elope, I shouldn't bother to get married. But, oh,think of how they felt when in walked those cruel parents!"
The story was that they were torn weeping from each other's arms; thatLetty was sent to bed for two days on bread and water; that Alfred waspacked off to Philadelphia the very next morning, and sailed in lessthan a week. They did not see each other again.
But the end of the story was not romantic at all. Letty, although shecrept about for a while in deep disgrace, and brooded upon death--thatinteresting impossibility, so dear to youth--_married_, if you please!when she was twenty, somebody called North,--and went away to live. WhenAlfred came back, seven years later, he got married, too. He married aMiss Barkley. He used to go away on long voyages, so perhaps he wasn'treally fond of her. We tried to think so, for we liked Captain Price.
In our day Captain Price was a widower. He had given up the sea, andsettled down to live in Old Chester; his son, Cyrus, lived with him, andhis languid daughter-in-law--a young lady of dominant feebleness, whoruled the two men with that most powerful domestic rod, foolishweakness. This combination in a woman will cause a mountain (a masculinemountain) to fly from its firm base; while kindness, justice, and goodsense leave it upon unshaken foundations of selfishness. Mrs. Cyrus wasa Goliath of silliness; when billowing black clouds heaped themselves inthe west on a hot afternoon, she turned pale with apprehension, and theCaptain and Cyrus ran for four tumblers, into which they put the legs ofher bed, where, cowering among the feathers, she lay cold with fear andperspiration. Every night the Captain screwed down all the windows onthe lower floor; in the morning Cyrus pulled the screws out. Cyrus had apretty taste in horseflesh, but Gussie cried so when he once bought atrotter that he had long ago resigned himself to a friendly beast oftwenty-seven years, who could not go much out of a walk because he hadstring-halt in both hind legs.
But one must not be too hard on Mrs. Cyrus. In the first place, she wasnot born in Old Chester. But, added to that, just think of her name! Theeffect of names upon character is not considered as it should be. If oneis called Gussie for thirty years, it is almost impossible not to becomegussie after a while. Mrs. Cyrus could not be Augusta; few women can;but it was easy to be gussie--irresponsible, silly, selfish. She had avague, flat laugh, she ate a great deal of candy, and she was afraidof-- But one cannot catalogue Mrs. Cyrus's fears. They were as the sandsof the sea for number. And these two men were governed by them. Onlywhen the secrets of all hearts shall be revealed will it be understoodwhy a man loves a fool; but why he obeys her is obvious enough: Fear isthe greatest power in the world; Gussie was afraid of thunder-storms, orwhat not; but the Captain and Cyrus were afraid of Gussie! A hint oftears in her pale eyes, and her husband would sigh with anxiety andCaptain Price slip his pipe into his pocket and sneak out of the room.Doubtless Cyrus would often have been glad to follow him, but the oldgentleman glared when his son showed a desire for his company.
"Want to come and smoke with me? 'Your granny was Murray!'--you'resojering. You're first mate; you belong on the bridge in storms. I'mbefore the mast. Tend to your business!"
* * * * *
It was forty-eight years before Letty and Alfred saw each otheragain--or at least before persons calling themselves by those old namessaw each other. Were they Letty and Alfred--this tousled, tangled,good-humored old man, ruddy and cowed, and this small, bright-eyedold lady, Mrs. North, led about by a devoted daughter? Certainly thesetwo persons bore no resemblance to the boy and girl torn from eachother's arms that cold December night. Alfred had been mild and slow;Captain Price (except when his daughter-in-law raised her finger) was apleasant old roaring lion. Letty had been a gay, high-spirited littlecreature, not as retiring, perhaps, as a young female should be, andcertainly self-willed; Mrs. North was completely under the thumb of herdaughter Mary. Not that "under the thumb" means unhappiness; Mary Northdesired only her mother's welfare, and lived fiercely for that singlepurpose. From morning until night (and, indeed, until morning again, forshe rose often from her bed to see that there was no draught from thecrack of the open window), all through the twenty-four hours she was onduty.
THE CAPTAIN AND CYRUS WERE AFRAID OF GUSSIE]
When this excellent daughter appeared in Old Chester and said she wasgoing to hire a house, and bring her mother back to end her days in thehome of her girlhood, Old Chester displayed a friendly interest; whenshe decided upon a house on Main Street, directly opposite CaptainPrice's, it began to recall the romance of that thwarted elopement.
"Do you suppose she knows that story about old Alfred Price and hermother?" said Old Chester; and it looked sidewise at Miss North withpolite curiosity. This was not altogether because of her mother'sromantic past, but because of her own manners and clothes. With painfulexactness, Miss North endeavored to follow the fashion; but she lookedas if articles of clothing had been thrown at her and some had stuck.As to her manners, Old Chester was divided; Mrs. David Baily said, withdelicate disgust, that they were bad; but Mrs. Barkley said, that thetrouble was she hadn't any manners; and as for Dr. Lavendar, he insistedthat she was just shy. But, as Mrs. Drayton said, that was like Dr.Lavendar, always making excuses for wrong-doing! "Which," said Mrs.Drayton, "is a strange thing for a minister to do. For my part, I cannotunderstand impoliteness in a _Christian_ female. But we must not judge,"Mrs. Drayton ended, with what Willy King called her "holy look." Withoutwishing to "judge," it may be said that, in the matter of manners, Mis
sMary North, palpitatingly anxious to be polite, told the truth; and aseverybody knows, truthfulness and agreeable manners are often divorcedon the ground of incompatibility. Miss North said things that otherpeople only thought. When Mrs. Willy King remarked that, though she didnot pretend to be a good house-keeper, she had the backs of her picturesdusted every other day, Miss North, her chin trembling with shyness,said, with a panting smile:
"That's not good house-keeping; it's foolish waste of time." And whenNeddy Dilworth's wife confessed coquettishly, that one would hardly takeher to be a year or two older than her husband, would one? Mary Northexclaimed, in utter astonishment: "is that all? Why, you look twelveyears older!" Of course such truthfulness was far from genteel,--thoughOld Chester was not as displeased as you might have supposed.
While Miss North, timorous and sincere (and determined to be polite),was putting the house in order before sending for her mother, OldChester invited her to tea, and asked her many questions about Letty andthe late Mr. North. But nobody asked whether she knew that her oppositeneighbor, Captain Price, might have been her father--at least that wasthe way Miss Ellen's girls expressed it. Captain Price himself did notenlighten the daughter he did not have; but he went rolling across thestreet, and pulling off his big shabby felt hat, stood at the foot ofthe steps, and roared out: "Morning! Anything I can do for you?" MissNorth, indoors,
An Encore Page 1