Idle Hour Stories Part 6

"It's all right, my boy;" cheerily said his father, while all three heartily enjoyed the denouement. "It was only a little harmless plot, you know, to bring you to your senses! Besides, you were in too delicate a state of health to bear the truth!" This with decided relish.

"Bring me to my senses!" echoed the other. "You have about run me crazy!

Here I've gone and married my wife's brother to his sister, and the fathers and mothers are all fathers-in-law and mothers-in-law. But, my dear mamma," he added, with an 'Et-tu-Brute' look at the amused lady, "I did not think you would play me false!"

"The temptation was too great," she confessed, "after I saw your name on the tell-tale suit case; own the truth now, that as Mrs. Dana, you would never have fallen in love with me!"

"Ah, well," he gave in, "let's kiss and make friends. As for you, young lady," he exclaimed with mock fierceness, "I shall exact the most implicit obedience. I must get even somehow."

"No--no--I did not promise to obey--brides never do nowadays," and the little gloved hand went up to his lips in protest.

Catching it fast, he threatened to proclaim the first time her hand had ever touched his lips, all unconscious though she was, and amid blushes and happiness all around, they arrived at the house, where the whole story had to be rehea.r.s.ed to delighted friends, beginning with midnight vision in a Pullman car.

In Old Kentucky

A PRIZE STORY

Everybody was at Crab Orchard springs, that favorite resort in the ante-bellum days. What though the main rooms were cramped and stuffy, or that the straggling cottages across the gra.s.sy lawn were mere sh.e.l.ls.

It was a place thoroughly rural, thoroughly enjoyable. Merely to ramble along the winding saw-dust walks to the deep embowered springs, was a sufficient augury of improved health. It was the one daily excitement to crowd up to the long platform and see the stage come in, bringing high and low, the rich and moderate liver. The luggage was light, Saratoga trunks being unknown quant.i.ties, and no gowns were brought except those of the crushable kind that did duty at ten-pins, fis.h.i.+ng, walking, dancing, and not least, driving, for the gravel turnpikes were fine.

Across the wide street was Bachelors' Row, where were installed hunters and hounds from the Southland, rich cotton and sugar planters, sporting men and their sable attendants. Here the candles burned all night, and there were loud whispers of games in vogue not as innocent as those listed on the tempting advertising circulars of the Springs. This sunny, summer life was of the _dolce far niente_ sort, given up to idle pleasure, and quite out of the way of the tragic happenings of romance.

Yet a mystery had managed to creep into this Arcadian realm, a thing not at first tangible, but getting to be an acknowledged first-cla.s.s secret as the days went by.

Egbert Mason had been nearer the carriage than the rest of the sunset crowd when the stage rolled up, followed by the close, luxurious-looking vehicle so rarely seen in those parts. He declared he caught a glimpse of a being, exquisitely beautiful among the two or three closely wrapped and veiled women who descended from the carriage; and the young men were on the _qui vive_ some hours later to see the new comers enter the ball room. But they did not appear either that night, or any other night. They kept their cottage rooms closely, sitting out only in the rear, and were waited upon by the two black servants they had brought.

Various were the conjectures about them, and vague stories soon took shape. The hotel register told only their names: Mrs. Glencarron, Mrs.

Hamilton and daughter, from Mississippi. The daughter was an invalid, and this was all that could be drawn from the faithful blacks. The girls pouted, and mamas looked unutterables when their curiosity found no relief; while the men were wisely silent, though equally diligent in fruitless investigation.

It was past midnight, and the lights were out, when the ominous cry of "fire!" sounded through the grounds, striking terror to the visitors thus suddenly startled from their sleep, and emptying the cottages of their half-clad occupants by one accord. A glance at the crackling flames showed that Bachelors' Row was on fire and doomed. Men from the distant village were soon on the spot with buckets, and amid frightened cries, confused questions, and a general hurrying, scurrying of feet, a few had presence of mind to cover the main building with wet blankets, lest the trees now snapping and hissing might drop a blazing brand and the whole place go down.

After the first panic had subsided there was nothing to do but stand and watch the graphic scene; and while thus engaged the attention of some was attracted by a face white and drawn as with pain among the by-standers. It was that of one of the mysterious ladies of the southern cottages. But even as they noted the faded beauty and aristocratic bearing of the stranger she was hurried away by another figure closely wrapped and hooded. Not before she had e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed: "Oh, what is it?

Is she----?" and there the words were lost.

It was somewhere near the early morning when Egbert Mason who had been foremost in fighting the fire, was aroused by a voice just outside his window, which was left open for the faint breeze of the summer night.

"Come quick iz you kin, young marster, fur de lub o'heb'n."

Between sleeping and waking the young man jumped up and peered out of the window. He could just discern the prim red and yellow turban of the black keeper of the strange ladies.

"Iz you a doctor, Marster? Dey says you iz."

"Yes--a very young one--what is wanted?"

The negress spoke a few very hurried words in a lower tone.

"All right. In one moment--stay--never mind--I have it--I'm coming." And catching up something from the shelf of his closet the young doctor sped away to the mysterious door of the southern guests.

He was met on the threshold by an anxious, grief-stricken face, and the words half sobbed out:

"Was there no one else? None older? You--why, you are a boy."

"True, madam, but I am not without experience. I hope--I think, you may trust me, unless----"

But she drew him hurriedly within the door, and on to an inner chamber, where lay his patient, so guarded that he never once saw her face.

Before the earliest risers were called to the long breakfast hall there echoed the cry of a little child in the southern cottages--a girl baby that opened its eyes first in an atmosphere of secrecy and mystery.

Sixteen years had gone by. It was the eighth of January, and the Capitol Hotel at Frankfort was a blaze of military glory. It was the annual commemorative ball, and Strauss' band was pouring forth inspiring strains, as the dancers, in fancy costumes of every age and clime, flitted to and fro. The beauty, wealth and chivalry of Kentucky were there. The stars and stripes were draped about the speaking portraits of dead heroes, and munitions of war glittered on every side.

Among those wearing the neat broadcloth evening dress of the plain American citizen was Dr. Egbert Mason, the famous surgeon, now a distinguished looking man of thirty-five. It was rather late in the evening when he appeared, and he was soon captured by his friend, the Hon. Leslie Walcott, who bore the distinction of being the youngest member of the House, and presented to Miss Eleanor Carleton, the most popular of all the belles and beauties on the floor. Her dress was an exquisite personation of the stars and stripes, from the crown of stars on her golden brown hair, to the gaily ribboned white satin slipper. Her white muslin skirts showed the red stripes at intervals; a soft blue sarcanet sash across her breast was stamped with the outstretched wings of the American eagle, and in every detail this unique costume was alluring to a degree.

Dr. Mason was more than impressed by her extreme youth, in its setting of precocious womanly grace and charm. She was so happy and bright, a _sans souci_ maiden whom he lost no time in winning to his own colors, by the magic of a well-stored mind and an eloquent tongue. A sonsie, sweet-sixteen la.s.sie, not yet out of school, but wonderfully developed, like the southern girls of the period, whose parents were possessed of ample means. He sounded her fresh, rich stores of mind and found she had indeed been carefully taught, wisely trained. Not at once did he learn it all, but soon enough to resolve to win and wear this jewel, if only Providence were kind. Providence? Ah, there swept across his face the shade of one bitter memory--one foul wrong that had darkened his earlier manhood. A woman's fatal wiles, a man's trust betrayed. He forgot that she had vowed vengeance if it took a lifetime.

He thrust it all aside, and turned to the purity and innocence of this fair young womanhood, with the infinite longing of a starved nature.

The evening of the ball did not close without another surprise for Egbert Mason. Eleanor Carleton was challenging him in a spirited quotation contest when her mother approached leaning upon the arm of the Governor of the State. She was a handsome, dark-eyed woman, young enough to seem the elder sister of the lovely girl who called her mother.

"Eleanor, my child," she said, barely glancing at her daughter's companion. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Have you been in the draughts of those halls? Supper is ready."

"Oh, I've been in very good hands," was the merry reply, as the girl introduced Dr. Mason, and shook hands with the Governor, who was looking down at her with his kindliest smile.

"Madam," he said gallantly, "I must compliment you upon this exceedingly pretty and patriotic dress. I have been watching it from afar all evening. How could you conceive such a marked hit for the occasion."

"I hope it in order for me to say she never fails," proudly answered Senator Carleton, an imposing looking man, who had come up in time to hear the last remark. "The march is playing for supper--"

"Oh, mother--what is it?" cried the girl, suddenly directing attention to Mrs. Carleton's face, which was colorless, almost ghastly, while her eyes seemed gazing afar off into s.p.a.ce.

"Allow me," said Dr. Mason, with concern, advancing quickly, and amid the excited gathering of the little circle about him, he gently bore her to one of the large windows, as the Senator in visible alarm threw up the sash.

"To my room," she murmured, as she revived a little, and thither they conducted her as quietly as possible.

At the door the startled young girl turned and impulsively clasping the doctor's hand, exclaimed:

"Oh, Dr. Mason--what is the matter? I never saw my mother like this--is she going to be ill?"

He tried to rea.s.sure her, though the touch of her soft, clinging fingers set his blood dancing like wild fire in his veins.

That night old Ailsie knelt beside her mistress and soothed her with the crooning tones of her childhood days.

"Don't you fret, Missie; he doan know nuffin' 'bout it now. An' if he do he ain' gwine ter tell n.o.body."

That night, too, Egbert Mason, in dreams climbed a mountain height to reach an eagle's nest. As he grasped the last wavering support a figure glittering with stars dropped from the nest, suspended by a tattered flag. Down, down it fell. Frantically he clutched at the frail colors.

They lengthened more, and more, till the starry, s.h.i.+mmering form was swaying above a yawning abyss. Could he save her? Her--his young love with the appealing eyes? With one mighty effort he nerved himself for the desperate descent, when lo! from yon black depth appears the vindictive face of Isabella Drury. Older, careworn, faded--but still Isabella, and wearing the head of a Medusa.

"You shall never marry that girl, Egbert Mason! I have sworn it! If you attempt it I will kill one or both of you!" and the face of the speaker was like a mad woman. "Oh, I know all you would say," she went on, striding about the rooms she had entered by strategy. "But she shall not have you if I can not. Pshaw! What fools men are! Do you know who and what she is? Where is your boasted pride, that shrank from a thing like me! Let me tell you, then, you scornful, high mightiness! Eleanor Carleton is----" and she hissed the hateful word in his ears.