A California Girl Part 8

At the Marston mansion towards evening several large packages arrived.

Mrs. Marston opened two large ones, looked them over, then said: "Here, Stella, these are for you."

After Stella had looked at them she said: "Why, aunt, dear, they are beautiful, but I am not going to be married now; they are pretty enough for the most charming bride in Roseland."

While handling the fancy worked underskirts and nightdresses, the fine silk underwear and costly fancy silk hosiery, she remarked: "It is very kind of you, aunt, to get all these fine things." Then a box was opened and there was a great a.s.sortment of the best shoes, so that Stella might select several pair from it. She was quite pleased with the different materials her aunt had selected for her dresses, and Mrs. Rogers would be up next morning to take her measurement. She was going to put on a force of a.s.sistants for completing them as soon as possible.

Stella was about the same as a prisoner in her aunt's house for a week.

But she had a most enjoyable time in reading some very costly ill.u.s.trated books of travel which her aunt had purchased more for style and appearance than for anything else.

Her aunt said one day, she did not get any time to look at books, but she was glad Stella could amuse herself in that way so that she might not find the time long.

"No, indeed, aunt," said Stella, "I have enjoyed every minute of the time I have been with you."

The week that Stella was a prisoner her aunt had so arranged matters that there were few callers and Stella did not see them. And she herself was out most of the time. Stella was not the least sensitive in regard to the matter of not going out with her aunt till her new dresses were made, because she saw that she would be a very conspicuous figure among the well-dressed young ladies of her aunt's circle. She would look like a speckled bird among a flock of white pigeons.

After the dress-making was completed Mrs. Rogers went with Mrs. Marston to the milliner's and purchased a pretty hat, Mrs. Marston saying she would bring Stella and let her select what more she might need in the line of millinery.

The week following was one of excitement for Stella, for every day she was out riding once or twice with her aunt, and meeting so many young ladies, and the well-dressed young men were very particular when bowing to Mrs. Marston to recognize the pretty young face at her side. Towards the end of the week Mrs. Marston gave a swell reception in honor of her niece. The very elite of Roseland were there, also a few from other places who were on a visit to friends in Roseland, and all made a very gay and brilliant party. But if any young lady that evening looked attractive, bewitching, fascinating, and possessed the power of making the blood in some of the dudes present tingle from the roots of their hair to the end of their toes, it was that fresh young girl from the country, with her sparkling eye, her ready wit; with resources that seemed inexhaustible for sustaining interesting conversation together with a manner so simple, so unconscious in all she said and did and so una.s.suming, which added much to the charm of her personality. All these characteristics were manifested in fine well rounded form. Is it any wonder that some young gentlemen saw a certain form floating before them after they had put their heads to their pillows that night, and their brains were active in planning for further acquaintance with that young lady?

Some of Mrs. Marston's pets lost no time in availing themselves of the standing invitation to call any time. Other parties were soon given by young ladies in Roseland, at which Stella had very pressing invitations to be present. The young ladies liked her very much; she was so natural, so sweet, so unaffected; they observed she was not what is called "fellow-struck;" while she seemed to enjoy and be perfectly at home in the society of young gentlemen, the young ladies saw no signs of her flirting with any of them. There is that peculiarity in the character of a certain cla.s.s of young ladies, that while they may think it is their privilege to flirt and carry on with the young men they know, yet when a strange young lady is introduced into their circle of gentlemen friends, they have more respect for her if she shows some originality and does not behave just exactly as they do.

Mrs. Marston was delighted at the impression Stella made on her circle of acquaintances, and now the dudes of Roseland paid Mrs. Marston extra attention and politeness since they had the pleasure of meeting her niece.

Young Ryland, the banker's son, said to Barker, the rising young attorney at the Arlington Hotel, "Say, Barker, what do you think of that new flower which Mrs. Marston has put into our garden?"

"I think," said Barker, "she is the prettiest and most fragrant bud I have seen; a very rare specimen."

Ryland said: "She is quite a study; the more you see of her, the more interesting she grows."

After Stella had been at her aunt's about a month she was seen less in her aunt's company riding out, but more in the company of the most stylish men in the city. Her aunt encouraged her in going out with these young gentlemen. She talked very much to her about how rich young Ryland's father, the banker, was; and she expected Barker to become one of the most brilliant lights at the bar. To-day he was worth twenty-five thousand dollars in his own name. Then there was young Westbrooke, son of the leading merchant in Roseland, the only son. He was home from college, with bright prospects. There was young Brookes, who owned fifty thousand dollars in real estate, and had traveled in Europe and seen lots of the world. He was a very great catch, her aunt said. These four young men, who always dressed with great taste, were Mrs. Marston's favorite pets. For a while Stella favored each one of these young men with her company, in buggy riding, but towards the end of the second month Westbrooke was the only one with whom she was seen riding.

She never took her aunt into her confidence by relating her experience in going out with these various young gentlemen. She thought it policy not to; but to be pleasant to each one of them, even if she had decided not to keep company with some of them. She remembered she was her aunt's guest, and should make herself agreeable to her aunt and her aunt's friends. What she did not relate to her aunt she did to her mother, when she returned home from her visit the week after the second month of her stay in Roseland. In conversation with her mother, Stella said, "I am really glad I went to Aunt Helen's, for I have lived in two months a year of my life. I have seen so much of a world concerning which I previously knew nothing only by hearsay. I feel it has done me good in many ways. Aunt was kind to me, and made everything very pleasant, and so did her friends. I do say I am glad that I have lived in her world and tasted of its pleasures, because I don't go now on what I hear about that world. I know from my own personal experience. It has given me much to think about, and furnished a great deal of mental food for the study of character, and I have learned more about my own self. I know better now than I ever did before my strong points and weak ones." She told her mother what fine piano players the Miller girls were, what sweet singers Dr. Lacy's daughters were, and the male quartette was very fine.

Ryland and Westbrooke are members of it, and after relating a number of other things which she heard and saw, she told her mother she could not tell her all now, but would some other time.

So one afternoon, when they were alone, Stella said: "Well, mother, I will relate to you now some of my funny experiences with some of the swell young gentlemen of Roseland. They were all aunt's special pets. I had been out riding with young Ryland, the banker's son, several times, besides sometimes meeting him at parties. He is very dudish, and dresses very extravagantly. He is labeled as catch number one, because his father has said his son should take his place in the bank some day, and on his wedding day he gets a gift from his father of twenty-five thousand dollars, with the promise of the bulk of his father's fortune when he dies. On the first few occasions when I met young Ryland he seemed reserved and quiet, but the more I went out riding with him I found he was getting rather soft. He did not seem to show any other traits of character, and his company was dull, but he made it more sickening each time with soft, s...o...b..ring talk. I only went out with him to please aunt. The last time I rode out with him he plead so hard for me to allow him to kiss my hand that I consented grudgingly just to quiet him, but after he kissed it instead of his being quiet, as I supposed he would be, it seemed to fire him all the more, so that he wanted to kiss my cheek. You ought to have heard the way he talked; you would think he was about to die, and the only remedy there was for him was to kiss my cheek. If he could only kiss me on the cheek, life would come back to him and he would feel a new man. In my own mind, I said to myself, 'This is the last time I ride out with you.' The more I tried to show how foolish he was to want to kiss a young lady that did not want any such manifestation of affection, the more he persisted, and said, 'I must kiss you.' I said, 'If I loved you, it would be a real pleasure to receive a kiss from you, but instead of loving you I lose all the respect I ever had for you because you try to force me to accept a kiss from you when I don't want it.' But he persisted, and said, 'I must kiss you, it will do me lots of good, and won't hurt you.' I said, 'Have you no respect for me or yourself to act so senselessly?' He replied, 'It may appear senseless to you, but I can a.s.sure you it would be bliss to me.' I tried to turn the subject of kissing me to something else, and did the best I could to entertain him in conversation on other subjects, but no; he was more stubborn than ever to think of nothing and talk of nothing but kissing me on the cheek. Not wishing to have any unpleasantness with him on aunt's account, I said to myself, 'You are nothing but a simple, little, contrary, foolish child, in a man's form, and I shall have to humor you as I would a little boy, for you have only the mind of one.' I told him if he, as a young gentleman of honor, would never say one word more to me about kissing, he could kiss my cheek just once, which he did and was quiet afterwards. He was very pleasant during the remainder of our ride, and when I got out of the buggy I was glad he did not ask if he could call again on me. When I think of him I cannot keep from laughing, the foolish simpleton. I would not have him for all the gold in California. I must tell you about another of aunt's pets I went out riding with several times. There was more to him than there was to Ryland; his name is Barker, and he is worth twenty-five thousand dollars, and aunt says he will become one of the leading lights of the legal profession. Well, he was full of humor and jokes disposed to be a little gay in his talk, and from what he related concerning himself one might infer he had been at times a little swift. One afternoon we were out in the country riding and he became very animated in his conversation about taste and style of young ladies' dresses, and from that went on to say what a fad it was among young men to notice and admire the bright hosiery which young ladies wore when bicycle riding, and continued in that style of talk, saying what good taste I displayed in my dress; he was sure that the pretty, bright hosiery, which he supposed I wore, would do his eyes good to behold. Just as he was apparently making a motion as if to inspect my hosiery, his nigh colt shied at an old post that was leaning over at the side of the road. He had all he could do to manage the horse. I laughed, and told him 'He had better keep his mind on the team, and not think about such things as the kind of hosiery I was wearing, that he must not look upon me as a dry-goods window.' He acted kind of mad with the colt, and said no more about ladies' hosiery. That was the last ride we had together.

"Well, one evening young Brookes, who was said to be worth fifty thousand dollars in real estate, and had seen much of Europe in his travels, called to take me to the theater. I had been out riding with him several times, and met him at every party. After the play was over, it being rather a warm night, he asked me if I would not like an ice-cream, and I agreed; so we went into a cafe, and the waiter showed us into one of the private boxes. After bringing ice-cream, cake and soda-water, he drew the curtains. We had a very pleasant chat while partaking of the refreshments.

"Brookes asked me if I had any objection to his enjoying a cigarette.

"I said 'No.'

"Then he asked me if I would have one with him.

"I laughed, and said I had not become fashionable enough for that yet. I would have to live longer in the city.

"He said, 'Why, the Paris young ladies smoke.'

"'Yes,' I said, 'but I am not a Paris young lady.'

"In looking around the little compartment I observed some pictures on the walls, but I perceived that the artist was not a Rubens or a Raphael, and they belonged to that cla.s.s of pictures that one would not see on the walls of a Sunday-school room.

"I saw Mr. Brookes was looking at them, and then he started a conversation about his travels in Europe, which was very interesting, saying he was a great lover of art and speaking of works of art he saw there. He said it was astonishing the genius that had been displayed in marble and on canvas to represent the beautiful form of woman.

Continuing in that strain, and being free in his expressions, he finished by saying how lovely must be the beautiful work of nature which was covered up here, putting his hand on my shoulder. I smiled, and said, 'This work of Nature is not on exhibition this evening; when it is, I will send you a complimentary ticket.' He took the remark in good part, and laughed. We got up and went out, and he saw me to aunt's door in a very pleasant, gentlemanly way.

"Westbrooke, the merchant's son, was the most sensible young man I met.

He appeared greatly interested in his college studies, and we had lots of good talks on school studies and other subjects.

"He asked me if he could come out to see me.

"I told him 'yes' for I should be pleased to see him.

"I want to tell you, mother, that when I was out and pa.s.sing through those funny experiences with the three different gentlemen, I never felt in the least timid or scared. I felt just as calm and collected as I do now. I felt this way about the matter: While I have long ago lost all prudishness, yet I did not wish to stimulate their over-excited imaginations of sensuous things."

Mrs. Wheelwright said: "Well, Stella, if you had not been well balanced, I should have some doubt about it being best for you to go to your aunt's. But I knew, dear, your tastes and inclinations were not on the sense plane, and I thought the opportunity of living in another world for a while would do you good, for it would be the means of giving you a better knowledge of yourself than you could get in any other way."

Stella said: "Mother, the cow-boys and hired ranch hands have a hard name. Now, I know this cla.s.s of men well, and my experience with and observation of them has taught me that any girl who behaves herself when in their company will always be treated with respect. There is some manhood about them in that way. But those fine city dudes have such a polished, underhanded, deep, sly, foxy way of attaining their ends. Dr.

Lacy's girls told me that those fine, city young gentlemen loved nothing better than to get acquainted with some pretty, young, green, innocent girl and enjoy the fun of breaking her in. They are skilled in that art."

CHAPTER XI.

SAUNDERS' CUSTOMERS.

One day, when business was very quiet in the store in Orangeville, the following conversation took place: "Who is that young man of striking appearance, talking to that old man in the road there?" said Hammond to Saunders, the merchant.

"That young man," said Saunders, "why, his name is Penloe."

Hammond said: "Penloe, why that must be the fellow I have heard my wife talk about. Has he any other name?"

"That is all," said Saunders. "He does not wish to be called anything else but Penloe. All his mail comes addressed just 'Penloe, Orangeville, California.' No. Mr., nor Esquire, nor Rev. nor Dr. nor Prof., nor anything else. He and his mother are my best customers, in one way. Not that they buy much, but they never ask my price for the purpose of beating me down. Nor do they grumble about the quality of my goods. Why, those two have bought more from this store to give away to those in poor circ.u.mstances, than they have for themselves. And they keep very still about what they do in giving. There is the Jones family, who have more children than dollars; they live in that cabin under the hill, on the Squirrel Creek road. All Jones has is what he knocks out by hard day's work, and he don't always have work, either.

"Well, last winter, when his wife was in confinement and had a long sick spell of two months, and Jones had typhoid fever about the same time, they were about down to their last dollar and were in debt. When Penloe and his mother heard about them, they both went down to Jones' house.

Penloe cut some stove-wood and helped round, and his mother took care of Mrs. Jones. Also, Penloe paid me $37.50 for merchandise, which I had furnished them. The doctor had been to Jones' about twice before they came to take care of him and his wife. They paid the doctor, and told him (to his surprise, as both his patients were very sick) that he need not come any more. And they cured them without any medicine. When Jones got well, they told him he could work on their place till he got work elsewhere. And they gave him his board and one dollar a day in cash for a month, and then he went to work on the Kelly ranch.

"Jones and his wife have turned over a new leaf since Penloe and his mother were with them. They look differently, act differently, and talk differently. Penloe's mother gave them a little sound talk on family matters. I feel a better man myself when they are round me.

"Penloe's mother is away now, and Penloe is not seen much about here; he is home most of the time, since he quit going out to work."

"That is a very different story from what you can tell about most of the young men in Orangeville," said Hammond. After which remark Hammond walked out of the store, apparently in a deep study.

Yes, he had much to think about, for he had seen a young man about twenty-two years of age giving himself, his labor, his money, and his best thought to help a poor family; to heal them of their sicknesses, to help them to become self-supporting and independent, by furnishing them work, and, above, all, to lift them to a higher plane of life, thus helping them to find within, the "kingdom of Heaven." Yes, he thought of Penloe's age, it was twenty-two; the very age when most young men think only of gratifying themselves in every little whim and fancy, of catering to their pride and vanity, and spending all their time, all their thought, and all their money on themselves; being lovers of themselves more than lovers of G.o.d or any one else. Or they have become absorbed in some girl, not because she touches their better nature and does what she can to lift them to a higher plane, but because she stimulates the activity of their sensual natures, causing them to live in bondage to their lower selves. Deluding themselves with the idea that they are enjoying life, they become so engrossed in the pursuit of 'sense-plane' pleasures that they realize no other life than the animal-plane of their existence, seeming apparently to be dead to all high motives, grand ideals and n.o.bleness of purpose.