April Hopes

by William Dean Howells

  XXXII.

  A week later, in fulfilment of the arrangement made by Mrs. Pasmer andEunice Mavering, Alice and her mother returned the formal visit of Dan'speople.

  While Alice stood before the mirror in one of the sumptuously furnishedrooms assigned them, arranging a ribbon for the effect upon Dan's motherafter dinner, and regarding its relation to her serious beauty, Mrs.Pasmer came out of her chamber adjoining, and began to inspect theformal splendour of the place.

  "What a perfect man's house!" she said, peering about. "You can see thateverything has been done to order. They have their own taste; they'reartistic enough for that--or the father is--and they've given orders tohave things done so and so, and the New York upholsterer has come up andtaken the measure of the rooms and done it. But it isn't like New York,and it isn't individual. The whole house is just like those girls'tailor-made costumes in character. They were made in New York, but theydon't wear them with the New York style; there's no more atmosphereabout them than if they were young men dressed up. There isn't a thinglacking in the house here; there's an awful completeness; but eventhe ornaments seem laid on, like the hot and cold water. I never saw ahandsomer, more uninviting room than that drawing room. I suppose theetching will come some time after supper. What do you think of it all,Alice?"

  "Oh, I don't know. They must be very rich," said the girl indifferently.

  "You can't tell. Country people of a certain kind are apt to puteverything on their backs and their walls and floors. Of course such ahouse here doesn't mean what it would in town." She examined the textureof the carpet more critically, and the curtains; she had no shame abouta curiosity that made her daughter shrink.

  "Don't, mamma!" pleaded the girl. "What if they should come?"

  "They won't come," said Mrs. Pasmer; and her notice being called toAlice, she made her take off the ribbon. "You're better without it."

  "I'm so nervous I don't know what I'm doing," said Alice, removing it,with a whimper.

  "Well, I can't have you breaking down!" cried her mother warningly:she really wished to shake her, as a culmination of her own conflictingemotions. "Alice, stop this instant! Stop it, I say!"

  "But if I don't like her?" whimpered Alice.

  "You're not going to marry her. Now stop! Here, bathe your eyes; they'reall red. Though I don't know that it matters. Yes, they'll expect you tohave been crying," said Mrs. Pasmer, seeing the situation more andmore clearly. "It's perfectly natural." But she took some cologne on ahandkerchief, and recomposed Alice's countenance for her. "There, thecolour becomes you, and I never saw your eyes look so bright."

  There was a pathos in their brilliancy which of course betrayed her tothe Mavering girls. It softened Eunice, and encouraged Minnie, whohad been a little afraid of the Pasmers. They both kissed Alice withsisterly affection. Their father merely saw how handsome she looked, andDan's heart seemed to melt in his breast with tenderness.

  In recognition of the different habits of their guests, they had dinnerinstead of tea. The Portuguese cook had outdone himself, and coursefollowed course in triumphal succession. Mrs. Pasmer praised it allwith a sincerity that took away a little of the zest she felt in makingflattering speeches.

  Everything about the table was perfect, but in a man's fashion, likethe rest of the house. It lacked the atmospheric charm, the otherwiseindefinable grace, which a woman's taste gives. It was in fact ElbridgeMavering's taste which had characterised the whole; the daughters simplyaccepted and approved.

  "Yes," said Eunice, "we haven't much else to do; so we eat. And Joe doeshis best to spoil us."

  "Joe?"

  "Joe's the cook. All Portuguese cooks are Joe."

  "How very amusing!" said Mrs. Pasmer. "You must let me speak of yourgrapes. I never saw anything so--well!--except your roses."

  "There you touched father in two tender spots. He cultivates both."

  "Really? Alice, did you ever see anything like these roses?"

  Alice looked away from Dan a moment, and blushed to find that she hadbeen looking so long at him.

  "Ah, I have," said Mavering gallantly.

  "Does he often do it?" asked Mrs. Pasmer, in an obvious aside to Eunice.

  Dan answered for him. "He never had such a chance before."

  Between coffee, which they drank at table, and tea, which they were totake in Mrs. Mavering's room, they acted upon a suggestion from Eunicethat her father should show Mrs. Pasmer his rose-house. At one end ofthe dining-room was a little apse of glass full of flowering plantsgrowing out of the ground, and with a delicate fountain tinkling intheir midst. Dan ran before the rest, and opened two glass doors inthe further side of this half-bubble, and at the same time with a touchflashed up a succession of brilliant lights in some space beyond, fromwhich there gushed in a wave of hothouse fragrance, warm, heavy, humid.It was a pretty little effect for guests new to the house, and waspart of Elbridge Mavering's pleasure in this feature of his place.Mrs. Pasmer responded with generous sympathy, for if she really likedanything with her whole heart, it was an effect, and she traversed thehalf-bubble by its pebbled path, showering praises right and left witha fulness and accuracy that missed no detail, while Alice followedsilently, her hand in Minnie Mavering's, and cold with suppressedexcitement. The rose-house was divided by a wall, pierced with frequentdoorways, over which the trees were trained and the roses hung; and oneither side were ranks of rare and costly kinds, weighed down with budand bloom. The air was thick with their breath and the pungent odours ofthe rich soil from which they grew, and the glass roof was misted withthe mingled exhalations.

  Mr. Mavering walked beside Alice, modestly explaining the difficultiesof rose culture, and his method of dealing with the red spider. He had astout knife in his hand, and he cropped long, heavy-laden stems of rosesfrom the walls and the beds, casually giving her their different names,and laying them along his arm in a massive sheaf.

  Mrs. Pasmer and Eunice had gone forward with Dan, and were waiting forthem at the thither end of the rose-house.

  "Alice! just imagine: the grapery is beyond this," cried the girl'smother.

  "It's a cold grapery," said Mr. Mavering. "I hope you'll see itto-morrow."

  "Oh, why not to-night?" shouted Dan.

  "Because it's a cold grapery," said Eunice; "and after this rose-house,it's an Arctic grapery. You're crazy, Dan."

  "Well, I want Alice to see it anyway," he persisted wilfully. "There'snothing like a cold grapery by starlight. I'll get some wraps." They allknew that he wished to be alone with her a moment, and the three women,consenting with their hearts, protested with their tongues, followinghim in his flight with their chorus, and greeting his return. He muffledher to the chin in a fur-lined overcoat, which he had laid hands on thefirst thing; and her mother, still protesting, helped to tie a scarfover her hair so as not to disarrange it. "Here," he pointed, "we canrun through it, and it's worth seeing. Better come," he said to theothers as he opened the door, and hurried Alice down the path under thekeen sparkle of the crystal roof, blotched with the leaves and bunchesof the vines. Coming out of the dense, sensuous, vaporous air of therose-house into this clear, thin atmosphere, delicately penetratedwith the fragrance, pure and cold, of the fruit, it was as if they hadentered another world. His arm crept round her in the odorous obscurity.

  "Look up! See the stars through the vines! But when she lifted her facehe bent his upon it for a wild kiss.

  "Don't! don't!" she murmured. "I want to think; I don't know what I'mdoing."

  "Neither do I. I feel as if I were a blessed ghost."

  Perhaps it is only in these ecstasies of the senses that the soulever reaches self-consciousness on earth; and it seems to be only theman-soul which finds itself even in this abandon. The woman-soul hasalways something else to think of.

  "What shall we do," said the girl, "if we--Oh, I dread to meet yourmother! Is she like either of your sisters?"

  "No," he cried joyously; "she's like me. If you're not afraid of me, andyou don't seem to
be--"

  "You're all I have--you're all I have in the world. Do you think she'lllike me? Oh, do you love me, Dan?"

  "You darling! you divine--" The rest was a mad embrace. "If you're notafraid of me, you won't mind mother. I wanted you here alone for justa last word, to tell you you needn't be afraid; to tell you to--But Ineedn't tell you how to act. You mustn't treat her as an invalid--youmust treat her like any one else; that's what she likes. But you'll knowwhat's best, Alice. Be yourself, and she'll like you well enough. I'mnot afraid."