Chapter 24

A CHANGE OF OPINION.

"Oh, mother won't you take this pillow from my head, and put another blanket on my feet, and fix the fire, and give me some water, or something? Oh, dear, dear!--" groaned poor Rose Lincoln, as with aching head and lungs, she did penance for her imprudence in crossing the wet, slippery street in thin slippers and silken hose.

Mrs. Lincoln, who knew nothing of this exposure, loudly lamented the extreme delicacy of her daughter's constitution, imputing it wholly to Mount Holyoke discipline, and wishing, as she had often done before, that "she'd been wise and kept her at home." Jenny would have wished so, too, if by this means Rose's illness could have been avoided, for it was not a very agreeable task to stay in that close sick room, listening to the complaints of her fault-finding sister, who tossed and turned and fretted, from morning until night, sometimes wishing herself dead, and then crying because she "wanted something, and didn't know what."

"Oh, dear," said she, one evening several days after the commencement of her illness, "how provoking to be obliged to lie here moping with the dullest of all dull company, when there's Mrs. Russell's party next week, and I've such a lovely dress to wear. Why ain't I as strong and healthy as you? though I wouldn't be so fat for any thing."

Jenny knew that whatever answer she could make would not be the right one, so she said nothing, and after a moment Rose again, spoke.

"I'll go to that party sick or well. I wouldn't miss of it for any thing."

This time Jenny looked up in surprise, asking why her sister was so particularly anxious to attend the party.

"Because," returned Rose, "Mary Howard will be there, and you know as well as I how awkward she'll appear,--never was in any kind of society in her life."

"I don't see what inducement that can be for you to expose your health," said Jenny, and Rose continued: "I want to see Ida mortified once, for she might know better than to bring a green, country girl here, setting her up as something wonderful, and expecting every body to believe it just because _Miss Selden_ said so. Didn't you tell me there was some one continually going to inquire after Mary?"

"Yes," answered Jenny; whereupon Rose got very angry, complaining that no one called upon her except that little simpleton Ella, who only came, when she thought there was a chance of seeing Henry!

"Seems to me you've changed your mind with regard to Ella," said Jenny.

"No I hain't either," answered Rose, "I always thought her silly, and now she hangs round Henry so much I'm thoroughly disgusted. But see,--there's Henry now, at Mr. Selden's gate,--with another gentleman."

The moon was shining brightly, and looking out, Jenny saw Billy Bender and her brother mounting the steps which led to Mr. Selden's door.

"It's funny that they should be together," thought she, while Rose continued, "Nothing will surprise me now, if Henry has got to running after her. I am glad George Moreland is away, though I fancy he's too much good sense to swallow a person, just because Ida and his old maid aunt say he must."

Here the conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Mr. Lincoln, who came as usual to see his daughter. In the mean time the two young men, who accidentally met at the gate, had entered Mr. Selden's parlor, and inquired for the young ladies.

"Come, you must go down," said Ida to Mary, when the message was delivered. This is the third time Mr. Bender has called, and you have no excuse for not now seeing him. "By the way," she continued, as Mary said something about 'Billy,' "don't call him Billy; we know him as _Mr._ Bender and Billy is so,--so,--"

"So countrified," suggested Mary.

"Yes, countrified if you please," returned Ida. "So after this he is _William_. Haven't you noticed that Jenny calls him so? But come," she added mischievously, "never mind brushing your hair. Mr. Stuart isn't down there!"

With the exception of the time when she was hurt, Mary had not seen William for more than two years and a half and now when she met him, she was so much embarrassed that she greeted him with a reserve, amounting almost to coldness. He on the contrary, was perfectly self-possessed, but after a few commonplace remarks, he seated himself on the opposite side of the room, and entered into conversation with Mrs. Mason concerning Chicopee and its inhabitants. Frequently Mary's eyes rested upon him, and she felt a thrill of pride when she saw how much his residence in Boston had improved him, and how handsome he really was. But any attempt to converse with him was rendered impossible by Henry Lincoln, who, toady as he was, thought proper to be exceedingly polite to Mary, now that the Seldens noticed her so much. Seating himself by her side with all the familiarity of an old friend, and laying his arm across the back of the sofa, so that to William it looked as if thrown around her shoulders, he commenced a tirade of nonsense as meaningless as it was disagreeable. More than once, too, he managed to let fall a very pointed compliment, feeling greatly surprised to see with what indifference it was received.

"Confound the girl!" thought he, beginning to feel piqued at her coldness. "Is she made of ice, or what?"

And then he redoubled his efforts at flattery, until Mary, quite disgusted, begged leave to change her seat, saying by way of apology that she was getting too warm. In the course of the evening George Moreland was mentioned. Involuntarily Mary blushed, and Henry, who was watching her proposed that she resume her former seat, "for," said he, "you look quite as warm and red where you are."

"The nearest I ever knew him come to any thing witty," whispered Ida, from behind a fire screen. "I do believe you've rubbed up his ideas, and I predict that you win him instead of Ella."

Mary did not even smile, for to her there was something revolting in the idea of being even teased about Henry, who was conceited enough to attribute her reserve to the awe which he fancied his "elegant presence" inspired! If Ella with all her wealth and beauty placed an invaluable estimate upon his attentions, why should not her unpretending sister be equally in love with him? And the young dandy stroked his mustache with his white fingers, and wondered what Ella Campbell would say if she knew how much her sister admired him, and how very nearly his admiration was returned!

At length William arose to go, and advancing towards Mary, he took her hand, saying in a low tone with marked emphasis on the word _sister_, "I find my sister greatly changed and improved since I last saw her."

"And you too are changed," returned Mary, her eyes filling with tears, for William's manner was not as of old.

"Yes, in more respects than one," said he, "but I shall see you again. Do you attend Mrs. Russell's party?"

Mary replied in the affirmative, and the next moment he was gone. Half an hour after, Henry, too, departed, saying to Mary as he went out, "You musn't fail to be at Mrs. Russell's, for I shall only go for the sake of seeing you.--Truth, upon my honor, what little I have," he continued, as Mary's eyes flashed forth her entire disbelief of what he said. "I am in earnest now, if I never was before."

Ida laughed aloud at the mystified picture which Mary's face presented as the door closed upon Henry. "You are too much of a novice to see through every thing, but you'll learn in time that opinions frequently change with circumstances," said she.

That night in his chamber, with his heels upon the marble mantel, and his box of cigars and bottle of brandy at his side, the man of fashion soliloquized as follows: "Zounds! How that girl has improved. Never saw the like in my life.--Talk about family and rank, and all that stuff. Why, there isn't a lady in Boston that begins to have the _air distingué_ which Mary Howard has. Of course she'll be all the go. Every thing the Seldens take up is. Ain't I glad Moreland is in New Orleans; for with his notions he wouldn't hesitate to marry her if he liked her, poor as she is. Now if she only had the chink, I'd walk up to her quick. I don't see why the deuce the old man need to have got so involved just now, as to make it necessary for me either to work or have a rich wife. Such eyes too, as Mary's got! Black and fiery one minute, blue and soft the next. Well, any way I'll have a good time flirting with her, just for the sake of seeing Ella wince and whimper, if nothing more. Bah! What a simpleton she is, compared with Mary. I wonder how much Mrs. Campbell _is_ worth, and if Ella will have it all."

And the young man retired to dream of debts liquidated by the gold which a marriage with Ella Campbell would bring him.