Family Pride Or Purified by Suffering Part 2

"Did he get well?" Katy asked, her eyes filling with tears at the picture Morris drew of Jamie Cameron, sitting all day long in his wheel chair, and trying to comfort his grandmother's distress when the torturing instruments for straightening his poor back were applied.

"No, he will always be a cripple, till G.o.d takes him to Himself," Morris said, and then Katy asked about the mother and sisters--were they proud, and did he like them much?

"They were very proud," Morris said; "but they were always civil to me,"

and Katy, had she been watching, might have seen a slight flush on his cheek as he told her of the stately woman, Wilford's mother, of the haughty Juno, a beauty and a belle, and lastly of Arabella, whom the family nicknamed Bluebell, from her excessive fondness for books, a fondness which made her affect a contempt for the fashionable life her mother and sister led.

It was very evident that neither of the young ladies were wholly to Morris' taste, but of the two he preferred the Bluebell, for though very imperious and self-willed, she really had some heart, some principle, while Juno had none. This was Morris' opinion, and it disturbed the little Katy, as was very perceptible from the nervous tapping of her foot upon the carpet and the working of her hands.

"How would I appear by the side of those ladies?" she suddenly asked, her countenance changing as Morris replied that it was almost impossible to think of her as a.s.sociated with the Camerons, she was so wholly unlike them in every respect.

"I don't believe I shocked Wilford so very much," Katy rejoined, reproachfully, while again a heavy pain shot through Morris' heart, for he saw more and more how Wilford Cameron was mingled with every thought of the young girl, who continued: "And if he was satisfied, I guess his mother and sisters will be. Anyway, I don't want you to make me feel how different I am from them."

There were tears now on Katy's face, and casting aside all selfishness, Morris wound his arm around her, and smoothed her golden hair, just as he used to do when she was a child and came to him to be soothed. He said, very gently:

"My poor Kitty, you do like Wilford Cameron; tell me honestly--is it not so?"

"Yes, I guess I do," and Katy's voice was a half sob. "I could not help it, either, he was so kind, so--I don't know what, only I could not help doing what he bade me. Why, if he had said: 'Jump overboard, Katy Lennox,' I should have done it, I know--that is, if his eyes had been upon me, they controlled me so absolutely. Can you imagine what I mean?"

"Yes, I understand. There was the same look in Bell Cameron's eye, a kind of mesmeric influence which commanded obedience. They idolize this Wilford, and I dare say he is worthy of their idolatry. One thing, at least, is in his favor--the crippled Jamie, for whose opinion I would give more than all the rest, seemed to worship his Uncle Will, talking of him continually, and telling how kind he was, sometimes staying up all night to carry him in his arms when the pain in his back was more than usually severe. So there must be a good, kind heart in Wilford Cameron, and if my Cousin Kitty likes him, as she says she does, and he likes her as I believe he must, why, I hope--"

Morris Grant could not finish the sentence; for he did not hope that Wilford Cameron would win the gem he had so long coveted as his own.

He might give Kitty up because she loved another best. He was generous enough to do that, but if he did it, she must never know how much it cost him, and lest he should betray himself he could not to-night talk with her longer of Wilford Cameron, whom he believed to be his rival. It was time now for Katy to go home, but she did not seem to remember it until Morris suggested to her that her mother might be uneasy if she stayed away much longer, and so they went together across the fields, the shadow all gone from Katy's heart, but lying so dark and heavy around Morris Grant, who was glad when he could leave Katy at the farmhouse door and go back alone to the quiet library, where only G.o.d could witness the mighty struggle it was for him to say: "Thy will be done." And while he prayed, not that Katy should be his, but that he might have strength to bear it if she were destined for another, Katy, up in her humble bedroom, with her head nestled close to Helen's neck, was telling her of Wilford Cameron, who, when they went down the rapids and she had cried with fear, had put his arm around her, trying to quiet her, and who once again, on the mountain overlooking Lake George, had held her hand a moment, while he pointed out a splendid view seen through the opening trees. And Helen, listening, knew just as Morris Grant had done that Katy's heart was lost, and that for Wilford Cameron to deceive her now would be a cruel thing.

CHAPTER III.

WILFORD CAMERON.

The day succeeding Katy Lennox's return to Silverton was rainy and cold for the season, the storm extending as far westward as the city of New York, and making Wilford Cameron shiver as he stepped from the Hudson River cars into the carriage waiting for him, first greeting pleasantly the white-gloved driver, who, carefully closing the carriage door, mounted to his seat and drove his handsome bays in the direction of No. ---- Fifth Avenue. And Wilford, leaning back among the yielding cushions, thought how pleasant it was to be going home again, feeling glad, as he frequently did, that the home to which he was going was in every particular unexceptionable. The Camerons he knew were an old and highly respectable family, while it was his mother's pride that, go back as far as one might on either side, there could not be found a single blemish or a member of whom to be ashamed. On the Cameron side there were millionaires, merchant princes, bankers and stockholders, professors and scholars, while on hers, the Rossiter side, there were LL.D.'s and D.D.'s, lawyers and clergymen, authors and artists, beauties and belles, the whole forming an ill.u.s.trious line of ancestry, admirably represented and sustained by the present family of Camerons, occupying the brownstone front, corner of ---- Street and Fifth Avenue, where the handsome carriage stopped and a tall figure ran quickly up the marble steps. There was a soft rustle of silk, an odor of delicate perfume, and from the luxurious chair before the fire kindled in the grate an elderly lady arose and advanced a step or two toward the parlor door. In another moment she was kissing the young man bending over her and saluting her as mother, kissing him quietly, properly, as the Camerons always kissed. She was very glad to have Wilford home again, for he was her favorite child, and brushing the raindrops from his coat she led him to the fire, offering him her own easy-chair and starting herself in quest of another. But Wilford held her back, and making her sit down, he drew an ottoman beside her and then asked her first how she had been and then how Jamie was, then where his sisters were, and if his father had come home--for there was a father, the elder Cameron, a quiet, una.s.suming man, who stayed all day in Wall Street, seldom coming home in time to carve at his own dinner table, and when he was at home, asking for nothing except to be left by his fashionable wife and daughters to himself, free to smoke and doze over his evening paper in the seclusion of his own reading-room.

As Wilford's question concerning his sire had been the last one asked, so it was the last one answered, his mother parting his dark hair with her jeweled hand, and telling him first that with the exception of a cold taken at the park on Sat.u.r.day afternoon when she drove out to try the new carriage, she was in usual health; second, that Jamie was very well, but impatient for his uncle's return; third, that Juno was spending a few days in Orange, and that Bell had gone to pa.s.s the night with her particular friend, Mrs. Meredith, the bluest, most bookish woman in New York.

"Your father," the lady added, "has not yet returned, but as the dinner is ready I think we will not wait."

She touched a silver bell beside her, and ordering dinner to be sent up at once, went on to ask her son concerning his journey, and the people he had met. But Wilford, though intending to tell her all, for he kept nothing from his mother, would wait till after dinner. So, offering her his arm, he led her out to where the table was spread, widely different from the table prepared for Katy Lennox away among the Silverton hills, for where at the farmhouse there had been only the homely wares common to the country, with Aunt Betsy's onions served in a bowl, there was here the finest of damask, the choicest of china, the costliest of cut-gla.s.s, and the heaviest of silver, with the well-trained waiter gliding in and out, himself the very personification of strict table etiquette, such as the Barlows had never dreamed about. There was no frica.s.seed chicken here, or flaky crust, with pickled beans and apple sauce; no custard pie with strawberries and rich, sweet cream, poured from a blue earthen pitcher, but there were soups, and fish, and roasted meats, and dishes with French names and taste, and desert elaborately gotten up and served with the utmost precision, and wines, with fruit and colored cloth, and handsome finger bowl; and Mrs. Cameron presiding over all, with the ladylike decorum so much a part of herself, her soft, glossy silk of brown, with her rich lace and diamond pin seeming in keeping with herself and her surroundings. And opposite to her Wilford sat, a tall, dark, handsome man of thirty or thereabouts--a man whose polished manners betokened at once a perfect knowledge of the world, and whose face to a close observer indicated how little satisfaction he had as yet found in that world. He had tried its pleasures, drinking the cup of freedom and happiness to its very dregs, and though he thought he liked it, he often found himself dissatisfied and reaching after something which should make life more real, more worth the living for.

He had traveled all over Europe twice, had visited every spot worth visiting in his own country, had been a frequenter of every fashionable resort in New York, from the skating pond to the theatres, had been admitted as a lawyer, had opened an office on Broadway, acquiring some reputation in his profession, had looked at more than twenty girls with the view of making them his wife, and found them as he believed, alike fickle, selfish, artificial and hollow-hearted. In short, while thinking far more of family, and accomplishments, and style, than he ought, he was yet heartily tired of the b.u.t.terflies who flitted so constantly around him, offering to be caught if he would but stretch out his hand to catch them. This he would not do, and disgusted with the world as he saw it in New York, he had gone to the Far West, roaming a while amid the solitude of the broad prairies, and finding there much that was soothing to him, but not discovering the fulfillment of the great want he was craving, until, coming back to Canandaigua, he met with Katy Lennox. He had smiled wearily when asked by Mrs. Woodhull to go with her to the examination then in progress at the seminary. There was nothing there to interest him, he thought, as Euclid and algebra, French and rhetoric were bygone things, while young school misses in braided hair and pantalets were shockingly insipid. Still, to be polite to Mrs.

Woodhull, a childless, fashionable woman, who patronized Canandaigua generally, and Katy Lennox in particular, he consented to go, and soon found himself in the crowded room, the cynosure of many eyes as the whisper ran around that the fine-looking man with Mrs. Woodhull was the Wilford Cameron from New York, and brother to the proud, dashing Juno Cameron, who once spent a few weeks in town, Wilford knew they were talking about him, but he did not care, and a.s.suming as easy an att.i.tude as possible, he leaned hack in his chair, yawning indolently, and wishing the time away, until the cla.s.s in algebra was called and Katy Lennox came tripping on to the stage, a pale blue ribbon in her golden hair and her simple dress of white relieved by no ornament except the cl.u.s.ter of wild flowers fastened in her belt and at her graceful throat.

But Katy needed no ornaments to make her more beautiful than she was at the moment when, with glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes, modestly cast down for a moment as she took her place, and then as modestly uplifted to her teacher's face, she first burst upon Wilford's vision, a creature of rare, bewitching beauty, such as he had never dreamed about.

Wilford had met his destiny, and he felt it in every throb of blood which went rushing through his veins.

"Who is she?" he asked of Mrs. Woodhull, and that lady knew at once whom he meant, even though he had not designated her.

An old acquaintance of Mrs. Lennox when she lived in East Bloomfield, Mrs. Woodhull had petted Katy from the first day of her arrival in Canandaigua with a letter of introduction to herself from the ambitious mother, and being rather inclined to match-making, she had had Katy in her mind when she urged Wilford to accompany her to the seminary.

Accordingly, she answered him at once: "That is Katy Lennox, daughter of Judge Lennox, who died in East Bloomfield a few years ago."

Lennox was a good name, while the t.i.tle of judge increased its value.

Wilford would not have acknowledged that, perhaps, but it was nevertheless the truth, and Mrs. Woodhull, who understood exactly the claim which Mr. Lennox had to the t.i.tle, knew it was true, and that was why she spoke as she did. It was time Wilford Cameron was settled in life, and with the exception of wealth and family position, he could not find a better wife than Katy Lennox, and she would do what she could to bring the marriage about.

"Pretty, is she not?" was her question put to Wilford after answering his inquiry, but Wilford did not hear, having neither eye nor ear for anything save Kitty, acquitting herself with a good deal of credit as she worked out a rather difficult problem, her dimpled white hand showing to good advantage against the deep black of the board; and then her voice, soft-toned and silvery as a lady's voice should be, thrilled Wilford's ear, awaking a strange feeling of disquiet, as if the world would never again be quite the same to him that it was before he met that fair young girl now pa.s.sing from the room.

Mrs. Woodhull saw that he was interested, and mentally congratulating herself upon the successful working of her plan, first gained the preceptress' consent, and then asked Katy home with her to tea that night. And this was how Wilford Cameron came to know little Katy Lennox, the simple-hearted child, who blushed so prettily when first presented to him, and blushed again when he praised her recitations, but who after that forgot the difference in their social relations, laughing and chatting as merrily in his presence as if she had been alone with Mrs.

Woodhull. This was the great charm to Wilford, Katy was so wholly unconscious of himself or what he might think of her, that he could not sit in judgment upon her, and he watched her eagerly as she sported, and flashed, and sparkled, filling the room with sunshine, and putting to rout the entire regiment of blues which had been for months hara.s.sing the city-bred young man.

If there was any one thing in which Katy excelled, it was music, both vocal and instrumental, a taste for which had been developed very early, and fostered by Morris Grant, who had seen that his cousin had every advantage which Silverton could afford. Great pains, too, had been given to her style of playing while at Canandaigua, so that as a performer upon the piano she had few rivals in the seminary, while her bird-like voice filled every nook and corner of the room, where, on the night after her visit to Mrs. Woodhull, a select exhibition was held, Katy shining as the one bright star, and winning golden laurels for beauty, grace and perfect self-possession from others than Wilford Cameron, who was one of the invited auditors.

"Juno herself could not equal that," he thought, as Katy's fingers flew over the keys, executing a brilliant and difficult piece without a single mistake, and receiving the applause of the spectators easily, naturally, as if it were an everyday occurrence. But when by request she sang "Comin' through the Rye," Wilford's heart, if he had any before, was wholly gone, and he dreamed of Katy Lennox that night, wondering all the ensuing day how his haughty mother would receive that young schoolgirl as her daughter, wife of the son whose bride she fancied must be equal to the first lady in the land. And if Katy were not now equal she could be made so, Wilford thought, wondering if Canandaigua were the best place for her, and if she would consent to receive a year or two years' tuition from him, provided her family were poor. He did not know as they were, but he would ask, and he did, feeling a pang of regret when he heard to some extent how Katy was circ.u.mstanced. Mrs. Woodhull had never been to Silverton, and so she did not know of Uncle Ephraim, with his old-fashioned spouse and his older-fashioned sister, but she knew that they were poor--that some relation sent Katy to school; and she frankly told Wilford so, adding, as she detected the shadow on his face, that one could not expect everything, and that a girl like Katy was not found every day. Wilford admitted all this, growing more and more infatuated, until at last he consented to join the traveling party, provided Katy joined it too, and when on the morning of their departure for the Falls he seated himself beside her in the car, he could not well have been happier, unless she had really been his wife, as he so much wished she was.

It was a most delightful trip, and Wilford was better satisfied with himself than he had been before in years. His past life was not all free from error, and there were many sad memories haunting him, but with Katy at his side, seeing what he saw, admiring what he admired, and doing what he bade her do, he gave the bygones to the wind, feeling only an intense desire to clasp the young girl in his arms and bear her away to some spot where with her pure fresh life all his own he could begin the world anew, and retrieve the past which he had lost. This was when he was with Katy. Away from her he could remember the difference in their position, and prudential motives began to make themselves heard. Never but once had he taken an important step without consulting his mother, and then, alas! the trouble it brought him was not ended yet, and never would be ended until death had set its seal upon the brow of one almost as dear as Katy, though in a far different way. And this was why Katy came back to Silverton unengaged, leaving her heart with Wilford Cameron, who would first seek advice from his mother ere committing himself by word. He had seen the white-haired man with his coa.r.s.e, linen coat and coa.r.s.er pants, waiting eagerly for her when the train stopped at Silverton, but standing there as he did, with his silvery locks parted in the center, and shading his honest, open face, Uncle Ephraim looked like some patriarch of old rather than a man to be despised, and Wilford felt only a respect for him until he saw Katy's arms wound so lovingly around his neck as she kissed and called him Uncle Eph. That sight grated harshly, and Wilford, knowing this was the uncle of whom Katy had often spoken, felt glad that he was not bound to her by any pledge. Very curiously he looked after the couple, witnessing the meeting between Katy and old Whitey, and guessing rightly that the corn-colored vehicle was the one sent to transport Katy home. He was very moody for the remainder of the route between Silverton and Albany, where he parted with his Canandaigua friends, they going on to the westward, while he stopped all night in Albany, where he had some business to transact for his father. And this was why he did not reach New York until late in the afternoon of the following day.

He was intending to tell his mother everything, except indeed that he paid Katy's bills. He would rather keep that to himself, as it might shock his mother's sense of propriety and make her think less of Katy, impulsive, confiding Katy, little dreaming as on that rainy afternoon she sat in the kitchen at Silverton, with her feet in the stove-oven and the cat asleep in her lap, of the conversation taking place between Wilford Cameron and his mother. They had left the dinner table, and lighting his cigar, which for that one time the mother permitted in the parlor, Wilford opened the subject by asking her to guess what took him off so suddenly with Mrs. Woodhull.

The mother did not know--unless--and a strange light gleamed in her eyes, as she asked if it were some girl.

"Yea, mother, it was," and without any reservation Wilford frankly told the story of his interest in Katy Lennox.

He admitted that she was poor and unaccustomed to society, but he loved her more than words could express.

"Not as I loved Genevra," he said, as he saw his mother about to speak, and there came a look of intense pain into his fine eyes as he continued: "That was the pa.s.sion of a boy of nineteen, simulated by secrecy, but this is different--this is the love of a mature man of thirty, who feels that he is capable of judging for himself."

In Wilford's voice there was a tone warning the mother that opposition would only feed the flame, and so she offered none directly, but heard him patiently to the end, and then quietly questioned him of Katy and her family, especially the last. What did he know of it? Was it one to detract from the Cameron line kept untarnished so long? Were the relatives such as he never need blush to own, even if they came there into their drawing-room, as they would come if Katy did?

Wilford thought of Uncle Ephraim as he had seen him upon the platform at Silverton, and could scarcely repress a smile as he pictured to himself his mother's consternation at beholding that man in her drawing-room, but he did not mention the deacon, though he acknowledged that Katy's family friends were not exactly the Cameron style. But Katy was young; Katy could be easily molded, and once away from her old a.s.sociates, his mother and sisters could make of her what they pleased.

"I understand, then, that if you marry her you do not marry the family,"

and in the handsome, matronly face there was an expression from which Katy would have shrunk; could she have seen it and understood its meaning.

"No, I do not marry the family," Wilford rejoined, emphatically, but the expression of his face was different from his mother's, for where she thought only of herself, not hesitating to trample on all Katy's love of home and friends, Wilford remembered Katy, thinking how he would make amends for separating her wholly from her home, as he surely meant to do if he should win her. "Did I tell you," he continued, "that her father was a judge? She must be well connected on that side, though I never heard of a Judge Lennox in any of our courts."

"It must have been when you were in Europe the first time," Mrs. Cameron suggested, and as if the mention of Europe reminded him of something else, Wilford rejoined: "Katy would be kind to Jamie, mother. In some things she is almost as much a child as he, poor fellow," and again there came into his eyes a look of pain, while his voice was sadder in its tone, just as it always was when he spoke of little Jamie. "And now, what shall I do?" he asked, playfully. "Shall I propose to Katy Lennox, or shall I try to forget her?"

"I should not do either," was Mrs. Cameron's reply for she well knew that trying to forget her was the surest way of keeping her in mind, and she dared not confess to him how wholly she was determined that Katy Lennox should never be her daughter if she could prevent it.

If she could not, then as a lady and a woman of policy, she should make the most of it, receiving Katy kindly and doing her best to educate her up to the Cameron ideas of style and manner.

"Let matters take their course for a while," she said, "and see how you feel after a little. We are going to Newport the first of August, Jamie and all, and perhaps you may find somebody there infinitely superior to this Katy Lennox. That's your father's ring. He is earlier than usual to-night. I would not tell him yet till you are more decided," and the lady went hastily out into the hall to meet her husband.

A moment more and the elder Cameron appeared--a short, square-built man, with a face seamed with lines of care and eyes much like Wilford's, save that the s.h.a.ggy eyebrows gave them a different expression. He was very glad to see his son, though he merely shook his hand, asking what nonsense took him off around the Lakes with Mrs. Woodhull, and wondering if women were never happy unless they were chasing after fashion. The elder Cameron was evidently not of his wife's way of thinking, but she let him go on until he was through, and then, with the most unruffled mien, suggested that his dinner would he cold. He was accustomed to that, and so he did not mind, but he hurried through his lonely meal to-night, for Wilford was home, and the father was always happier when he knew his son was in the house. Contrary to his usual custom, he spent the short summer evening in the parlor, talking with Wilford on various items of business, and thus preventing any further conversation concerning Katy Lennox, who just as their evening was commencing, was bowing the knee reverently between her sister and her uncle, listening while the good old man invoked the nightly blessing, without which he never retired to sleep. But in that household on Fifth Avenue there was no blessing asked of Heaven, no word of thanksgiving for the prosperity so long vouchsafed, no prayer said except by the crippled Jamie, who, remembering the Savior of whom Morris Grant had told him when across the sea, whispered his childish prayer, thanking him most for bringing back the uncle so dearly loved, the Wilford who, on his way to his own room, had stopped as he always did to say good-night to Jamie, folding his arms around him and kissing his sweet face with a fondness in which there was something half regretful, half sad, as well as pleasing.

It took but a short time for Wilford to fall back into his old way of living, pa.s.sing a few hours of each day in his office, driving with his mother, reading to little Jamie, sparring with his imperious sister, Juno, and teasing his blue sister, Bell, but never after that first night breathing a word to any one of Katy Lennox. And still Katy was not forgotten, as his mother sometimes believed. On the contrary, the very silence he kept concerning her increased his pa.s.sion, until he began seriously to contemplate a trip to Silverton. The family's removal to Newport, however, diverted his attention for a little, making him decide to wait and see what Newport might have in store for him. But Newport was dull this season, at least to him, though Juno and Bell both found ample scope for their different powers of attraction, and his mother was always happy when showing off her children and knowing that they were appreciated. With Wilford it was different. Listless and taciturn, he went through with the daily routine, wondering how he had ever found happiness there, and finally, at the close of the season, casting all policy and prudence aside, he wrote to Katy Lennox that he was coming to Silverton on his way home, and that he presumed he should have no difficulty in finding his way to the farmhouse.

CHAPTER IV.