Tempest and Sunshine Part 30

In a few moments William thought proper to retire, and as his example was soon followed by Julia, f.a.n.n.y was left alone with her parents. Drawing her stool nearer to her father, and laying her hot, feverish forehead on his hand, she said, "Before I give any explanation, I wish you to make me a promise."

"Promise of what?" asked her father and mother, simultaneously.

"It is not probable," answered f.a.n.n.y, "that you will ever see Dr. Lacey again, but if you do, I wish you never to mention to him what I am about to tell you."

The promise was readily given by Mrs. Middleton, but her husband demurred, saying, "I shan't commit myself until I know what 'tis. If Dr. Lacey has been cuttin' up, why I'll cowhide him, that's all."

"Then I shall not tell you," was f.a.n.n.y's firm reply.

Her father saw she was in earnest, and replied, "What's got your back up so high, Suns.h.i.+ne? I never knew you had so much grit. What's the reason you don't want Dr. Lacey to hear of it?"

"Because," said f.a.n.n.y, hesitatingly, "because I do not wish him to know how much I care about it; and besides, it can do no possible good. Now, father, promise you will not tell him or any one else."

Mr. Middleton was finally persuaded, and his promise given, f.a.n.n.y knew it would not be broken, for her father prided himself on keeping his word. So she gave an account of Dr. Lacey's conduct, and ended her narrative by producing a letter, which she supposed came from him. Up to the moment Mr.

Middleton had sat perfectly still; but meantime his wrath had waxed warmer and warmer, until at last it could no longer be restrained, but burst forth in such a storm of fury as made f.a.n.n.y stop her ears.

She, however, caught the words, "And I was fool enough to promise not to say a word. Well, thank the Lord, I didn't promise not to shoot the puppy.

Let me catch him within pistol shot of me, and I'll pop him over as I would a woodchuck. And if he don't come back, I'll go all the way to New Orleans for the sake of doin' on't. I'll larn him to fool with my gal; yes, I will!"

f.a.n.n.y's fears for Dr. Lacey's safety were immediately roused; and again were her arms wound round the neck of her enraged father, while she begged of him to be quiet, and think reasonably of the matter. Not long could one resist the arguments of f.a.n.n.y; and in less than half an hour her father grew calm, and said more gently, "I shouldn't have been so rarin' mad, if it had been anybody but you, Suns.h.i.+ne. I s'pose I did go on high, and swar like a pirate. I didn't mean to do that, for I promised Bill I'd try and leave off."

"Leave swearing?" said f.a.n.n.y. "Oh, I'm so glad. I hope you will. Now promise that you will, dear father, and say again that you will not mention Dr. Lacey's conduct either to him or to any one else."

"I have promised once," said Mr. Middleton, "and one promise is as good as forty. Old Josh'll never break his word as long as he has his senses. But that paltry doctor owes his life to you, Suns.h.i.+ne. Half an hour ago I was as fully set to knock him over as I am now determined to let the varmint go to destruction in his own way."

f.a.n.n.y shuddered at the idea of her father becoming the murderer of Dr.

Lacey, and Mrs. Middleton rejoined, "I am glad, husband, to hear you talk more sensibly. It can do no possible good for you to shoot Dr. Lacey, and then lose your own life, as you a.s.suredly would; besides, I think the less we say of the matter, the better it will be."

"I reckon you are right, Nancy," said Mr. Middleton; "but hang it all, what excuse shall I give Bill for not lettin' the gals go to New Orleans?"

"But, father," said f.a.n.n.y, "you will let Julia go, of course. Uncle knows I do not intend to go, and consequently will think nothing of that; and there is no reason why Julia should not go to New Orleans, and I to New York. Now, say we may; that's a dear father."

"I s'pose I'll have to, honey," answered Mr. Middleton; "but if I can see ahead an inch, you're bitin' your own nose off by sending Tempest to New Orleans without you."

Afterward f.a.n.n.y remembered this speech, and understood it, too; but now she was prevented from giving it a thought by her father, who continued, "Doesn't that Cameron chap live some'us in New York?"

There was no reason for it, but f.a.n.n.y blushed deeply as she replied, "Yes, sir; Mr. Cameron lives in New York City; but I am not going to see him."

"Mebby not," answered her father; "but my name ain't Josh if he won't be on the lookout for you. And 'twixt us, darling, now the doctor's sarved you such a scaly trick, I shouldn't pitch and drive much if I heard that you and Cameron were on good terms."

"That will never, never be," answered f.a.n.n.y. "I shall always live at home with you and mother."

"You are a blessed daughter," said Mr. Middleton, "and I hope there's better fortin in store for you than to stay hived up with us two old crones; and I can't help thinkin' that you'll have Dr. Lacey yet, or somebody a heap better. Now go to bed, child, for your eyes are gettin'

red like, and heavy."

f.a.n.n.y obeyed and retired to her room, where she found Julia sitting up and waiting for her. As soon as f.a.n.n.y appeared she began, "Fan, you are a real good girl. I was pleased to hear you talk. n.o.body but you could have done anything with the old heathen."

"What are you talking about?" asked f.a.n.n.y.

"Why," said Julia, "I had my head out of the window, listening all the time, and overheard what you said. Once I trembled for fear father would take it into his head not to let me go any way; but you fixed it all right, and I thank you for it." As f.a.n.n.y made no answer, Julia continued, "I heard, too, all about Frank Cameron. Now, Fan, I know he admires you, and I really hope you'll not be silly enough to discourage him. I shall expect you to write that you have become Mrs. Cameron."

"Will you please, Julia, say no more on that subject," said f.a.n.n.y. "I do not suppose Frank Cameron has any particular regard for me; if he has it will do no good."

Thus the conversation ended for that night. The next day Mr. William Middleton was informed that Julia would spend the summer in New Orleans, but that f.a.n.n.y preferred going North. He was rather disappointed. His preference, if any he had, was for f.a.n.n.y. She was so quiet, so gentle, he could not help loving her; but Julia puzzled him. There was a certain bold a.s.surance in her manner which he disliked. Besides, he could not help fearing there was some good reason why her father censured her so much. "I will watch her closely," thought he, "and if possible, discover her faults and help her correct them."

It would seem that Julia suspected her uncle's intentions, for she intended to be very correct and amiable in her deportment, whenever he was present. Thought she, "I will thus retain his good opinion; and by so doing I shall more easily win Dr. Lacey's regard."

In the course of a few days f.a.n.n.y and Julia returned to school; the one, elated with the prospect of going to New Orleans, and the other, quietly antic.i.p.ating a pleasant but rather sad journey to New York. Two weeks after their return to Frankfort their uncle called upon them on his way South. He again repeated his invitation that Stanton and Ashton would spend a part of the summer with him. Ashton consented, but Stanton still pleaded his important business North, and his excuse was considered a sufficient one.

Mrs. Carrington, who had become rather weary of Raymond's attentions and was longing for a change of place and scene, now tried by every possible maneuver to induce Mr. Middleton to invite her also. Julia readily understood her; and as she feared Mrs. Carrington's presence would frustrate her plans, she resolutely determined that she should not be invited. Consequently, when that lady talked to Mr. Middleton of New Orleans, and the desire she had of again visiting that city, Julia would adroitly change the conversation to some other subject; and once when Mr.

Middleton had actually opened his mouth and commenced giving the desired invitation, Julia, as if suddenly recollecting herself, started up, saying, "Excuse me, uncle, but I have a painting in my room which I wish you to see. Pray, come with me now, for I cannot bring it down, and as it is getting dark, there is no time to be lost."

Mr. Middleton arose and followed his niece, who congratulated herself on the success of her stratagem. After reaching her room, and exhibiting her painting, she said to her uncle, "I do hope you will not ask Mrs.

Carrington to go to New Orleans this summer."

"Why not?" said Mr. Middleton. "She seems anxious that I should do so."

"I know it," answered Julia; "but I am afraid she is not a good woman. At least she had a bad influence over me, and I always feel wicked after being with her awhile."

As Julia had supposed, this had the desired effect. Mr. Middleton would not ask one to visit him whose influence over his niece was bad.

Consequently, all Mrs. Carrington's hints were unnoticed or misunderstood.

She, however, knew tolerably well to whom she was indebted for the slight; and when, after Mr. Middleton's departure, Julia said to her, "I wonder uncle did not invite you, too; I thought he was going to do so," she replied, rather sharply, "I fancy I should have been under no obligations to you, Miss Julia, if I had received an invitation." Then turning, she hastily entered her room, and throwing herself upon the sofa, she tried to devise some scheme by which she could undermine Julia, provided Dr. Lacey should show her any marked attention.

Mrs. Carrington was not in a very enviable mood. The night before Raymond had offered her his heart and hand, and of course had been rejected. He was in the parlor when Julia so abruptly took her uncle away. As there was no one present besides Mrs. Carrington, he seized upon that moment to declare his love. It is impossible to describe the loathing and contempt which she pretended to feel for him who sued so earnestly for her hand, even if her heart did not accompany it. Nothing daunted by her haughty refusal, Raymond arose, and standing proudly before the indignant lady said, "Ida Carrington, however much dislike you may pretend to feel for me I do not believe it. I know I am not wholly disagreeable to you, and were I possessed of thousands, you would gladly seize the golden bait. I do not ask you to love me, for it is not in your nature to love anything. You are ambitious, and even now are dreaming of one whom you will never win; for just as sure as yon sun shall set again, so sure you, proud lady, shall one day be my wife."

When Mrs. Carrington had recovered a little from the surprise into which Raymond's fiery speech had thrown her, he was gone and she was alone.

"Impudent puppy!" said she; "and yet he was right in saying he was not disagreeable to me. But I'll never be his wife. I'd die first!" Still, do what she would, a feeling haunted her that Raymond's prediction would prove true. Perhaps it was this which made her so determined to supplant Julia in Dr. Lacey's good opinion, should he ever presume to think favorably of her. How she succeeded we shall see hereafter.

CHAPTER XVII

f.a.n.n.y MIDDLETON ARRIVES IN NEW YORK

Three weeks after Mr. Middleton's departure for New Orleans, Mr. Miller's school closed. Uncle Joshua was present at the examination, and congratulated himself much because he did not feel at all "stuck up" at seeing both Julia and f.a.n.n.y acquit themselves so creditably. After the exercises were concluded, he returned with Mr. Miller to Mrs. Crane's.

Just before he started for home he drew from his sheepskin pocketbook five hundred dollars, which he divided equally between his daughters, saying, "Here, gals, I reckon this will be enough to pay for all the furbelows you've bought or will want to buy. I'll leave you here the rest of the week to see to fixin' up your rig, but Sat.u.r.day I shall send for you."

f.a.n.n.y was surprised at her father's unlooked-for generosity, and thanked him again and again. Julia was silent, but her face told how vexed and disappointed she was. As soon as her father was gone, her rage burst forth. "Stingy old thing," said she, "and yet he thinks he's done something wonderful. Why, my bill at C--'s already amounts to two hundred, and I want as much more. What I am to do, I don't know."

She would have said more, but f.a.n.n.y quieted her by saying, "Don't talk so about father, Julia. It was very liberal, and really I do not know what to do with all mine."

But we will not continue this conversation. Suffice it to say that when Julia retired that night, her own money was safe in her purse, and by the side of it lay the hundred dollars she had coaxed from f.a.n.n.y. As they were preparing to return home on Sat.u.r.day, Julia said to her sister, "Fan, don't let father know that you gave me a hundred dollars, for I fear all your powers of persuasion would be of no avail to stay the storm he would consider it his bounden duty to raise."

There was no need of this caution, for f.a.n.n.y was not one to do a generous act, and then boast of it, neither did her father ask her how she had disposed of her money. He was satisfied to know that the "four silk gowns"

were purchased, as, in his estimation they const.i.tuted the essential part of a young lady's wardrobe.