Dawn of the Morning Part 8

"Is Harrington dead?" asked Betty, with wide, frightened eyes and blanched face.

"No, but he might better be, Betty. He has a wife and two little children out West, and he has deserted them to marry again."

Betty did not scream nor exclaim, "How dreadful!" Instead, she sat down quickly in the first chair at hand.

After an instant's silence, she said in her matter-of-fact way:

"Then there won't be any wedding, of course! And what will that poor girl do? Has anybody thought about her? Somehow, I'm not surprised.

I've always secretly thought Harrington was selfish. It's like him never to think how he would make other people suffer. His letters always put Father and Mother in hot water. Have they told her yet, Charles? Oh, I wish I could go and help comfort her! I can't think of anything more mortifying for her."

"Betty, it is good that she will be saved from anything worse. It is good to have it found out beforehand."

"Oh, yes, of course; but she won't think of that. With all the wedding guests coming, how can she have time to be thankful that she is saved from marrying a selfish, bad man? Charles, it is a shame! Somebody ought to be at hand to step in and take Harrington's place. If I were a man, I'd throw myself at her feet and offer to marry her. Say, Charles, why don't you do it yourself?" declared Betty romantically.

The heart of the young man leaped up with a great bound, and a flood of color went over his face and neck. But the parlor was darkened, and, moreover, the girls in the carryall were diligently calling; so Betty vanished to impart the news, and Charles was alone for the moment, with a new thought, which almost took his breath from him.

Then down the oaken staircase, with soft, lady-like, but decided rustle, came Madam Winthrop.

Behind her, nervous, protesting, came her husband's anxious footsteps.

"But, Mother, really, it won't do. We couldn't go, you know, under the circ.u.mstances."

"Don't say another word, Mr. Winthrop," Charles heard his mother's most majestic voice. "I intend to go, and there is no need of further talk.

Depend upon it, Harrington will be able fully to explain all this impossible story when he arrives, and it is not for his family to lose faith in him."

"But, Mother, you don't understand," protested her husband, still hastening after her and putting out a detaining hand.

"Indeed, I do understand," said the woman's voice coldly. "I understand that my boy is being persecuted. It is you, apparently, who do not understand. I am his mother, and I intend to stand by him, and not let a breath of this wretched scandal touch him. The wedding will go on as planned, of course, and what would the world think if his family were not present? How could you possibly explain your absence except by bringing out these most unfatherly suspicions? No, Mr. Winthrop, there is all the more need of haste, that we may forestall any of these wicked rumors. Let us start at once."

"But, Janet--"

"No! You needn't 'But Janet' me. I don't wish to hear another word.

I'm going, no matter what you say, and so are Martha and the girls. You can stay at home if you like, I suppose. You are a man, and, of course, will do as you please. I will explain your absence the best way I can.

But I'm going! Come, Martha; we will get into the back seat!"

Charles stepped out of the darkened parlor and intercepted his mother.

"Mother, really, you're making a mistake. You have not stopped to think what you are going into. It won't do for you and the girls to go. I will go with father--"

But the imperious lady shook her son's hand from her arm as though it had been a viper.

"Charles, you forget yourself!" she said. "It is not for you to tell your mother she is making a mistake. You must not think that because you have been to college you can therefore teach your mother how to conduct her affairs. Stand out of my way, and then follow me to the carriage. You are displeasing me greatly. It would have been better for you to remain in Boston than to come here to talk to your mother in this way."

The majestic lady marched on her way to the carriage, followed by her frightened sister-in-law, who scuttled after her tearfully, not knowing which to dread the most, her sister-in-law's tyranny, the wrath of her brother, or the scorn of her nephew. The habit of her life had been always to follow the stronger nature. In this case it was Madam Winthrop.

Father and son stood looking on helplessly. Then the father called:

"Well, Janet, if you must go, leave the girls at home with Martha."

The aunt drew back timidly from the carriage-step she was approaching.

"Get in at once, Martha!" commanded Madam Winthrop, already established in the back seat of the coach. "We have no time to waste. Girls, you may drive on ahead until we reach the cross-roads. Elizabeth, your conduct is unseemly for such a joyous occasion. What will the neighbors think to see your flushed, excited face? Wipe your eyes and pull down your veil. Drive on, Cordelia, and see that Elizabeth's conduct is more decorous."

She waved the carryall on, and Cordelia and Madeleine, awed and half-frightened, obeyed, while excitable Betty strove to put by the signs of her perturbation until she was out of her mother's sight. In brief whispers she had succeeded in conveying to her sisters a slight knowledge of what had occurred.

The old coachman and the stable boy stood wondering by and marvelled that the wedding had gone to Madam's head. They had seen her in these imperious moods, but had not thought this an occasion for one. Some one must have displeased her very much, for her to get in a towering rage on the day before her eldest son's wedding.

"Now, Mr. Winthrop, we are ready, if you and Charles will take your seats."

Father and son looked at each other in dismay.

"I guess there's nothing for it but to get in, Father. Perhaps you can bring her to her senses on the way, and I can drive back with her, or they can stop at an inn, while we go on. It really won't do to delay, for we have a duty to the Van Rensselaers."

"You are right, Charles. We must go. Perhaps, as you say, we can persuade Mother on the way. I am dubious, however. She is very set in her way."

"Mr. Winthrop, you will need only to get your hat," called his wife from the coach. "I have had your portmanteau and Charles's fastened on behind. Your things are all here. Your hat is lying on the hall table."

With a sigh of submission, the strong man obediently got his hat and took his place on the front seat of the coach, while Charles indignantly swung himself up beside his father. Then the family started for the wedding that was not to be.

CHAPTER VII

The long journey was anything but what it had promised to be when it was antic.i.p.ated. The carryall containing the three girls headed the procession. They were talking in subdued and frightened tones, Madeleine and Cordelia endeavoring to find out from Betty more than the child really knew. When she could not satisfy their curiosity and anxiety with facts, she supplied them with running comments on human nature and her elder brother in particular. Now and again they pulled her up sharply with: "Betty, be still!" or "I am ashamed of you Elizabeth. You jump to conclusions. I am sure there must be some explanation. Charles was very wrong to tell you until he had made sure about it. You see Mother does not believe the story, or she would never go."

"Mother wouldn't believe Harrington had done wrong if she saw him do it," declared Betty irreverently.

"Now, Betty! How you talk! One would think you didn't love Harrington."

"Well, I don't very much, and that's a fact," shrugged Betty. "Charles is worth two of him. Harrington always hushes me up when he comes home, and talks as if I were a baby yet. Besides, he is selfish. Look how he wouldn't take me to Harriet Howegate's corn-husking when he was home the last time, just because he was too lazy to change his clothes! I don't see why I should love him if I don't, just because he happens to belong to the same family. I'm sure he can't love us much, or he wouldn't have gone off so long ago and stayed away from us so much."

"Why, Betty!" said Madeleine, shocked. "He had to go and earn his living and make a man's way in the world."

"No, he didn't. He could have stayed at home and gone into business with Father, as Father wanted him to. I haven't a bit of patience with Harrington."

"I'm sure, Betty, that's a very shocking way to talk about your own brother, and Mother would highly disapprove!" said Madeleine.

"If I were you, I should keep still, Betty," advised Cordelia.

Betty pouted, and a solemn silence settled upon the three as the old gray horse plodded sleepily over the road. The occupants of the coach were by no means at ease. Aunt Martha sat shrivelled in the back seat, with the ready tears coursing silently down her cheeks. She had heard enough of what her brother had told his wife, to be filled with gloomy apprehensions. Aunt Martha was always sure of the worst.

Madam Winthrop sat severely silent, with her delicate, cameo features held high. Her keen blue eyes never wavered, nor did her firm, thin lips quiver. Apparently, she had not one misgiving, and her only regret seemed to be that the rest of the family had taken leave of their senses. She looked straight in front of her, ignoring the sad gray head of her husband, and the yellow curls of the strong young son with whom she was offended. They would all see their mistake soon enough, and meantime she was giving them a bit of a lesson not to doubt the idol of her heart. To do her justice, she firmly believed she was right, and was amazed that her husband had taken the att.i.tude he had. Of course Harrington would not do such a dreadful thing. Such things did not happen in real life. It was out of the question. She dismissed the subject with that, and fell to going over her own arrangements and the wardrobe of the family, with satisfaction.

The sound of the horses' hoofs on the old corduroy road, and the husky crickets by the wayside, beat a funeral dirge for the heart of the Father in the front seat. His countenance was heavy, and now and again he brought forth an audible sigh.

The lugubrious att.i.tude of her family annoyed Madam Winthrop. She turned to her sister-in-law sharply.