Chapter 16

PERILOUS PATHS

Avis Manning's "Company" was one of the events of the season. She was a full-fledged young lady, and knowing she could have her choice of the young men of Salem, was rather difficult to capture. She and her brother-in-law were very good friends, but not lovers. And Laura, who knew where his fancy lay, counselled him to go slowly, though she was quite sure he would win in the end.

"You see, she is like a child to Mr. Chilian Leverett, and he is loath to part with her. But all girls do marry sooner or later, and he isn't selfish enough to want her to stay single. If he was not so much older he might marry her--they are not own cousins, you know."

"He marry her! Why, he's getting to be quite an old man," and there was a touch of disdain in his tone. "But there's half a dozen others----"

"It's queer, but she isn't a flirt. She's one of the sweetest of girls--she was, at school. And with her fortune she might hold herself high. They say the Boston trustee has doubled some of it that he invested."

"I wish she hadn't a cent!" the young man flung out angrily.

"Well, money is not to be despised. She'll get a little tired by and by, and long for a home and children of her own, as we all do. And if you haven't found any one else----"

"I never shall find any one like her;" gloomily.

"Oh, there are a great many nice girls in the world."

Avis knew all the best people in Salem, it was not so large, after all. And they came to the beautiful house and made merry, played "guessing words"--what we call charades, quite a new thing then--and it made no end of merriment. Of course, Cynthia was in them, was arch and piquant, and delighted the audience. Then they had supper and more dancing. One of the Turner boys, Archibald, hovered about Cynthia like a shadow. There was Ben Upham, but Edward Saltonstall warded them off to her satisfaction. But Bella Turner was shortly to be married, and Archie would have her for that evening surely.

She and Mr. Saltonstall were very good friends. He was a little older than the others, and grown wary by experience. But it was queer that half a dozen girls were pulling straws for him and here was one who did not care, would not raise a finger, but, oh, how sweet her smiles were.

"If you are a bridesmaid the third time, you will never be a bride," said some of the wiseacres.

Cynthia tossed her proud, dainty head and laughed over it to Cousin Chilian. He looked a little grave.

"Would you mind if I were an old maid? I wouldn't really be _old_ in a long while, you know. And you will always want some one. If anything should happen to Cousin Eunice, how lonely you would be."

"Yes, if you went away."

"I don't care for any of them very much. I like Mr. Saltonstall the best. He isn't quite so young, so--so sort of impetuous. And the boys get jealous."

Then it was likely to be Mr. Saltonstall, after all! Was he going to be narrow and mean enough to keep her out of what was best in a woman's life? But he looked down the dreary years without her. He could not attach himself to the world of business as Cousin Giles did. Some of these young fellows might come into a sort of sonship with him--there was Anthony Drayton.

Why was it his soul protested against them? He did not understand the deep underlying dissent that made a cruel discordance in his desire for her happiness.

Mr. Saltonstall walked home from church with her and Miss Winn. And he came in one evening to ask some advice. He had cudgelled his brain for days to find just the right subject. That ended, they had a talk about chess--that was becoming quite an interest in some circles. There were several moves that puzzled him.

"Come in some evening and talk them over," said Mr. Leverett.

Edward Saltonstall wondered at the favor of the gods and accepted. Not as if he was in any vulgar hurry, but he dropped in, politely social, and asked if he should disturb them. Chilian had been reading Southey's "Thalaba."

"Oh, no. We often read in the evening," said Cynthia.

She was netting a bead bag, an industry all the rage then among the women. They really were prettier than the samplers. But she rose and brought the box of chessmen, while he rolled the table from its corner.

"Will I disturb you if I stay?" she asked.

"Not unless it interferes with Mr. Saltonstall's attention," said Chilian, then bit his lip.

"Oh, I do not think it will;" smilingly.

"You are very good to bother with a tyro. I'd like to be able to play a good game. Father is so fond of it, and Lynde seldom comes in nowadays--family cares;" laughingly.

They led off very well. Saltonstall was wise enough to try his best, though out of one eye he watched the dainty fingers threading in and out among the colored beads, and could not help thinking he would rather be holding them and pressing kisses on the soft white hand. Then he made a wrong play.

"We may as well turn back," said Mr. Leverett, "since the question at stake is not winning, but improving."

"You are very good," returned the young man meekly.

This time they went on a little further, but the result was the same. So with the third game.

"Of course, I could let you win," Mr. Leverett began, "but that wouldn't conduce to the real science of the game which a good player desires. But you do very well for a young man. I should keep on, if I were you."

"And annoy you with my shortcomings?"

"Oh, it will not be annoyance, truly. Come in when you feel like it."

"Thank you." Then he said good-night in a friendly, gentlemanly manner, and Cynthia rose and bowed.

After that she gathered up her work and said good-night. Chilian sat and thought. Edward Saltonstall was a nice, steady young fellow; that is, he neither gamed, nor drank, nor went roystering round in the taverns jollying with the sailors, as some of the sons of really good families