An Original Belle

by Edward Payson Roe

  DURING her drives Marian had often passed the entrance to one ofthe finest old places in the vicinity, and, although aware that thefamily was absent in Europe, she had observed that the fact madeno difference in the scrupulous care of that portion of the groundswhich was visible. The vista from the road, however, was soon lostamong the boles and branches of immense overshadowing oaks. Even tothe passer-by an impression of seclusion and exclusion was given,and Marian at last noted that no reference was made to the familyin the social exchanges of her little drawing-room. The dwellingto which the rather stiff and stately entrance led was not visiblefrom the car-windows as she passed to and from the city, so abruptwas the intervening bluff, but upon one occasion from the deck ofa steamboat she had caught glimpses through the trees of a largeand substantial brick edifice.

  Before Strahan had disappeared for a time, as we have related, herslight curiosity had so far asserted itself that she had asked forinformation concerning the people who left their beautiful homeuntenanted in June.

  "I fancy I can tell you more about them than most people in thisvicinity, but that is not so very much. The place adjoins ours,and as a boy I fished and hunted with Willard Merwyn a good deal.Mrs. Merwyn is a widow and a Southern-bred woman. A Northern manof large wealth married her, and then she took her revenge on therest of the North by having as little to do with it as possible.She was said to own a large property in the South,--plantation,negroes, and all that. The place on the Hudson belonged to theMerwyn side of the house, and the family have only spent a fewsummers here and have been exclusive and unpopular. My mother madetheir acquaintance abroad, and they knew it would be absurd to puton airs with us; so the ladies of the two families have exchangedmore or less formal visits, but in the main they have little to dowith the society of this region. As boys Willard and myself did notcare a fig for these things, and became very good friends. I havenot seen him for several years; they have all been abroad; and Ihear that he has become an awful swell."

  "Why then, if he ever returns, you and he will be good friendsagain," Marian had laughingly replied and had at once dismissedthe exclusive Merwyns from her mind.

  On the morning of the 4th of July Strahan had come over to have aquiet talk with Marian, and had found Mr. Lane there before him.By feminine tactics peculiarly her own, Marian had given them tounderstand that both were on much the same footing, and that theirunited presence did not form "a crowd;" and the young men, havinga common ground of purpose and motive, were soon at ease together,and talked over personal and military matters with entire freedom,amusing the young girl with accounts of their awkwardness in drilland of the scenes they had witnessed. She was proud indeed of hertwo knights, as she mentally characterized them,--so different,yet both now inspiring a genuine liking and respect. She saw thather honest goodwill and admiration were evoking their best manhoodand giving them as much happiness as she would ever have the powerto bestow, and she felt that her scheme of life was not a falseone. They understood her fully, and knew that the time had passedforever when she would amuse herself at their expense. She hadbecome an inspiration of manly endeavor, and had ceased to be theobject of a lover's pursuit. If half-recognized hopes lurked intheir hearts, the fulfilment of these must be left to time.

  "By the way," remarked Strahan, as he was taking his leave, "I hearthat these long-absent Merwyns have deigned to return to their nativeland,--for their own rather than their country's good though, Ifancy. I suppose Mrs. Merwyn feels that it is time she looked afterher property and maintained at least the semblance of loyalty. Ialso hear that they have been hob-nobbing with the English aristocracy,who look upon us Yankees as a 'blasted lot of cads, you know.'Shall I bring young Merwyn over to see you after he arrives?"

  "As you please," she replied, with an indifferent shrug.

  Strahan had a half-formed scheme in his mind, but when he calledupon young Merwyn he was at first inclined to hesitate. Great aswas his confidence in Marian, he had some vaguely jealous fears,more for the young girl than for himself, in subjecting her to theinfluence of the man that his boyhood's friend had become.

  Willard Merwyn was a "swell" in Strahan's vernacular, but even inthe early part of their interview he gave the impression of beingsomething more, or rather such a superior type of the "swell" genus,that Marian's friend was conscious of a fear that the young girlmight be dazzled and interested, perhaps to her sorrow.

  Merwyn had developed into a broad-shouldered man, nearly six feetin height. His quiet, courteous elegance did not disguise from onewho had known him so well in boyhood an imperious, self-pleasingnature, and a tenacity of purpose in carrying out his own desires.He accepted of his quondam friend's uniform without remark. Thatwas Strahan's affair and not his, and by a polite reserve, he madethe mercurial fellow feel that his affairs were his own. Strahanchafed under this polished reticence, this absence of all curiosity.

  "Blast him!" thought the young officer, "he acts like a superiorbeing, who has deigned to visit America to look after his rents,and intimates that the country has no further concern with him orhe with it. Jove! I'd give all the pay I ever expect to get to seehim a rejected suitor of my plucky little American girl;" and heregarded his host with an ill-disposed eye. At last he resolved totake the initiative boldly.

  "How long do you expect to remain here, Merwyn?"

  "I scarcely know. It depends somewhat on my mother's plans."

  "Thunder! It's time you had plans of your own, especially when aman has your length of limb and breadth of chest."

  "I have not denied the possession of plans," Merwyn quietly remarked,his dark eye following the curling, upward flight of smoke fromhis cigar.

  "You certainly used to be decided enough sometimes, when I wantedyou to pull an oar."

  "And you so good-naturedly let me off," was the reply, with a slightlaugh.

  "I didn't let you off good-naturedly, nor do I intend to now. Goodheavens, Merwyn! don't you read the papers? There's a chance nowto take an oar to some purpose. You were brave enough as a boy."

  Merwyn's eyes came down from the curling smoke to Strahan's facewith a flash, and he rose and paced the room for a moment, thensaid, in his old quiet tones, "They say the child is father of theman."

  "Oh well, Merwyn," was the slightly irritable rejoinder, "I haveand ever had, you remember, a way of expressing my thoughts. If,while abroad, you have become intolerant of that trait, why, thesooner we understand each other the better. I don't profess to beanything more than an American, and I called to-day with no othermotive than the obvious and natural one."

  A shade of annoyance passed over Merwyn's face, but as Strahanceased he came forward and held out his hand, saying: "I like youall the better for speaking your thoughts,--for doing just as youplease. You must be equally fair and yield to me the privilege ofkeeping my thoughts, and doing as I please."

  Strahan felt that there was nothing to do but to take the profferedhand, so irresistible was the constraint of his host's courtesy,although felt to be without warmth or cordiality. Disguising hisinward protest by a light laugh he said: "I could shake hands withalmost any one on such a mutual understanding. Well, since we havebegun on the basis of such absolute frankness on my part, my nextthought is, What shall be our relations while you are here? I am abusier fellow than I was at one time, and my stay is also uncertain,and sure to be brief. I do not wish to be unneighborly in remembranceof old times, nor do I wish to be obtrusive. In the natural orderof things, I should show you, a comparative stranger, some attention,inform you about the natives and transient residents, help youamuse yourself, and all that. But I have not the slightest desireto make unwelcome advances. I have plenty of such in prospect southof Mason and Dixon's line."

  Merwyn laughed with some heartiness as he said: "You have attainedone attribute of a soldier assuredly,--bluntness. Positively,Strahan, you have developed amazingly. Why, only the other day wewere boys squabbling to determine who should have the first shotat an owl we saw in the mountains. The result was,
the owl tookflight. You never gave in an inch to me then, and I liked you allthe better for it. Come now, be reasonable. I yield to you yourfull right to be yourself; yield as much to me and let us beginwhere we left off, with only the differences that years have made,and we shall get on as well as ever."

  "Agreed," said Strahan, promptly. "Now what can I do for you? Ihave only certain hours at my disposal."

  "Well," replied Merwyn, languidly, "come and see me when you can,and I'll walk over to your quarters--I suppose I should so callthem--and have a smoke with you occasionally. I expect to be awfullydull here, but between the river and the mountains I shall haveresources."

  "You propose to ignore society then?"

  "Why say 'ignore'? That implies a conscious act. Let us supposethat society is as indifferent to me as I to it."

  "There's a little stutterer down at the hotel who claims to be anEnglish lord."

  "Bah, Strahan! I hope your sword is sharper than your satire. I'vehad enough of English lords for the present."

  "Yes, Merwyn, you appear to have had enough of most things,--perhapstoo much. If your countrymen are uninteresting, you may possiblywish to meet some of your countrywomen. I've been abroad enough toknow that you have never found their superiors."

  "Well, that depends upon who my countrywoman is. I should preferto see her before I intrude--"

  "Risk being bored, you mean."

  "As you please. Fie, Strahan! you are not cultivating a soldier'spenchant for women?"

  "It hasn't needed any cultivating. I have my opinion of a man whodoes not admire a fine woman."

  "So have I, only each and all must define the adjective forthemselves."

  "It has been defined for me. Well, my time is up. We'll be twofriendly neutral powers, and, having marked out our positions, canmaintain our frontiers with diplomatic ease. Good-morning."

  Merwyn laughingly accompanied his guest to the door, but on thepiazza, they met Mrs. Merwyn, who involuntarily frowned as she sawStrahan's uniform, then with quiet elegance she greeted the youngman. But he had seen her expression, and was somewhat formal.

  "We shall hope to see your mother and sisters before long," thelady remarked.

  Strahan bowed, and walked with military erectness down the avenue,his host looking after him with cynical and slightly contemptuousgood-nature; but Mrs. Merwyn followed the receding figure with anexpression of great bitterness.

  Her appearance was that of a remarkable woman. She was tall, andslight; every motion was marked by grace, but it was the grace ofa person accustomed to command. One would never dream of woman'sministry when looking at her. Far more than would ever be true ofMarian she suggested power, but she would govern through her will,her pride and prejudices. The impress of early influences had sunkdeep into her character. The only child of a doting father, shehad ruled him, and, of course, the helpless slaves who had watchedher moods and trembled at her passion. There were scars on humanbacks to-day, which were the results of orders from her girlishlips. She was not greatly to blame. Born of a proud and imperiousancestry, she had needed the lessons of self-restraint and gentlenessfrom infancy. Instead, she had been absolute, even in the nursery;and as her horizon had widened it had revealed greater numbers towhom her will was law. From childhood she had passed into maidenhoodwith a dower of wealth and beauty, learning early, like Marian,that many of her own race were willing to become her slaves.

  In the South there is a chivalric deference to women far exceedingthat usually paid to the sex at the North, and her appearance,temperament, and position evoked that element to the utmost. Heknows little of human nature who cannot guess the result. Yet, bya common contradiction, the one among her many suitors who won suchlove as she could give was a Northern man as proud as herself. Hestood alone in his manner of approach, made himself the object ofher thoughts by piquing her pride, and met her varying moods bya quiet, unvarying dignity that compelled her respect. The resultwas that she yielded to the first man who would not yield unduedeference to her.

  Mr. Merwyn employed his power charily, however, or rather withprinciple. He quietly insisted on his rights; but as he granted herswithout a word, and never irritated her by small, fussy exactions,good-breeding prevented any serious clashing of wills, and theirmarried life had passed in comparative serenity. As time elapsedher will began, in many ways, to defer to his quieter and strongerwill, and then, as if life must teach her that there is no truecontrol except self-control, Mr. Merwyn died, and left her mistressof almost everything except herself.

  It must not be supposed, however, that her self-will was apassionate, moody absolutism. She had outgrown that, and was toowell-bred ever to show much temper. The tendency of her maturepurposes and prejudices was to crystallize into a few distinctforms. With the feminine logic of a narrow mind, she made her husbandan exception to the people among whom he had been born and bred.Widowed, she gave her whole heart to the South. Its institutions,habits, and social code were sacred, and all opponents thereofsacrilegious enemies. To that degree that they were hostile, oreven unbelieving, she hated them.

  During the years immediately preceding the war she had been abroadsuperintending the education of Willard and two younger daughters,and when hostilities began she was led to believe that she couldserve the cause better in England than on her remote plantation.In her fierce partisanship, or rather perverted patriotism,--forin justice it must be said that she knew no other country than theSouth,--she was willing to send her son to Richmond. He thwartedthis purpose by quietly manifesting one of his father's traits.

  "No," he said, "I will not fight against the section to which myfather belonged. To my mind it's a wretched political squabble atbest, and the politicians will settle it before long. I have mylife before me, and don't propose to be knocked on the head forthe sake of a lot of political John Smiths, North or South."

  In vain she tried to fire his heart with dreams of Southern empire.He had made up that part of himself derived from Northern birth--hismind--and would not yield. Meantime his Southern, indolent,pleasure-loving side was appealed to powerfully by aristocraticlife abroad, and he felt it would be the sheerest folly to abandonhis favorite pursuits. He was little more then than a gracefulanimal, shrewd enough to know that his property was chiefly at theNorth, and that it would be unwise to endanger it.

  Mrs. Merwyn's self-interest and natural affection led her to yieldto necessity with fairly good grace. The course resolved uponby Willard preserved her son and the property. When the Southhad accomplished its ambitious dreams she believed she would haveskill enough to place him high among its magnates, while, if hewere killed in one of the intervening battles,--well, she was loyalenough to incur the risk, but at heart she did not deeply regretthat she had escaped the probable sacrifice.

  Thus time passed on, and she used her social influence in behalfof her section, but guardedly, lest she should jeopardize theinterests of her children. In May of the year in which our storyopened, the twenty-first birthday of Willard occurred, and wascelebrated with befitting circumstance. He took all this quietly,but on the morning of the day following he said to his mother:--

  "You remember the provisions of my father's will. My share of theproperty was to be transferred to me when I should become of age.We ought to return to New York at once and have the necessary papersmade out."

  In vain she protested that the property was well managed, that theincome was received regularly, that he could have this, and thatit would be intensely disagreeable for her to visit New York. He,who had yielded indifferently to all her little exactions, wasinexorable, and the proud, self-willed woman found that he had somuch law and reason on his side that she was compelled to submit.

  Indeed, she at last felt that she had been unduly governed by herprejudices, and that it might be wise to go and see for themselvesthat their affairs were managed to the best advantage. Deepin her heart was also the consciousness that it was her husband'sindomitable will that she was carrying out, and that she couldnever escape from
that will in any exigency where it could justlymake itself felt. She therefore required of her son the promisethat their visit should be as unobtrusive as possible, and thathe would return with her as soon as he had arranged matters to hismind. To this he had readily agreed, and they were now in the landfor which the mother had only hate and the son indifference.

  CHAPTER XI.

  AN OATH AND A GLANCE.