Family Pride Or Purified by Suffering Part 23

But Bell did not care, while Wilford was pleased, and drew himself nearer the chair, standing just behind it, so that Katy could not see him as he smoothed her curly head, and said, half indifferently, "Now for the all-important name. What shall we call our daughter?"

"Let your mother speak first," Katy said, and thus appealed to Mrs.

Cameron came up to Wilford and expressed her preference for Margaret, as being a good name--an aristocratic name, and her own.

"Yes, but not half so pretty and striking as Rose Marie," Juno chimed in.

"Rose Mary! Thunder!" Father Cameron exclaimed. "Call her a marygold, or a sunflower, just as much. Don't go to being fools by giving a child a heathenish name. Give us your opinion, Katy."

"I have known from the first," Katy replied, "and I am sure you will agree with me. Tis such a beautiful name of a sweet young girl, and there was a great secret about her, too--Genevra, baby will be called,"

and Katy looked straight into the fire, wholly unconscious of the effect that name had produced upon two of her auditors, Wilford and his mother.

They did not faint, like Marian, but Wilford's face was white as marble, and his eyes turned quickly to his mother, who, in her first shock, started so violently as to throw down from the stand a costly vase, which was broken in many pieces. This occasioned a little diversion, and by the time the flowers and fragments were gathered up, Wilford's lips were not quite as livid, but he dared not trust his voice yet, and listened while his sisters gave their opinion of the name. Bell deciding for it at once, and Juno hesitating until she had heard from a higher power than Katy. One there was in that family council who seized upon it eagerly. Jamie had been brought into the parlor in his wheel-chair, and sat leaning his cheek upon his hand when the name was spoken. Then, with a sudden lighting up of his face, he exclaimed, "Genevra! I've heard it before. Where was it, grandma? Didn't you talk of it once with--"

"Hush-h, Jamie. Don't interrupt us now," Wilford said, in a voice so much sterner than he was wont to use when addressing the little boy, that Jamie shrank back abashed and frightened; while Mrs. Cameron, still with her back to Katy, asked, what had put that fanciful name into her mind? Where had she heard it?

Katy explained, and, with the removal of the fear which for a few moments had chilled his blood, Wilford grew calm again; while into his heart there crept the thought that by giving that name to his child some slight atonement might be made to the occupant of that grave in St.

Mary's churchyard--to her above whose head the English daisies had blossomed and faded many a year. But not so with his mother--the child should not be called Genevra if she could prevent it; and she opposed it with all her powers, offering at last, as a great concession on her part, to let it bear the name of any of Katy's family--Hannah and Betsy mentally excepted, of course--Lucy Lennox, Helen Lennox, Katy Lennox, anything but Genevra. As usual, Wilford when he had learned her mind, joined with her, notwithstanding the secret preference, and the discussion became quite warm, especially as Katy evinced a willfulness for which Helen had never given her credit. Hitherto she had been as yielding as wax, but on this point she was firm, gathering strength from the fact that Wilford did not oppose her as he usually did. She could not, perhaps, have resisted him, but his manner was not very decided, and so she quietly persisted. "Genevra, or nothing," until the others gave up the contest, hoping she would feel differently after a few days'

reflection. But Katy knew she shouldn't; and Helen could not overcome the exultation with which she saw her little sister put the Camerons to rout and remain master of the field.

"After all it does not matter," Mrs. Cameron said to her daughters, when, after Mrs. Wilford had gone, she sat talking of Katy's queer fancy and her obstinacy in adhering to it. "It does not matter; and on the whole I had as soon the christening would be postponed until the child is more presentable than now. It will be prettier by and by, and the dress will become it better. We can afford to wait."

This heartless view of the case was readily adopted by Juno, while Bell professed to be terribly shocked at hearing them talk thus of a baptism, as if it were a mere show and nothing more, wondering if the Savior thought either of dress or personal appearance when the Hebrew mothers brought their children to Him. But little did Mrs. Cameron or Juno care for the baptism except as a display, and as both would be much prouder of a fine looking child, they were well content to wait until such time as Katy should incline more favorably to their Margaret or Rose Marie.

To Helen it seemed highly probable that after a private interview with Wilford Katy would change her mind, and she felt a wickedly agreeable degree of disappointment when, on the day following the dinner party, she found her sister even more resolved than ever upon having her own way. Like the Camerons, she did not feel the necessity of haste--time enough by and by, when she would not have so much opposition to encounter, she said; and as Wilford did not care, it was finally arranged that they would wait a while, ere they gave a cognomen to the little nameless child, only known as Baby Cameron.

CHAPTER XXV.

TROUBLE IN THE HOUSEHOLD.

As soon as it was understood that Mrs. Wilford Cameron was able to go out, there were scores of pressing invitations from the gay world which had missed her so much, but Katy declined them all on the plea that baby needed her care. She was happier at home, and as a mother it was her place to stay there. At first Wilford listened quietly, but when he found it was her fixed determination to abjure society entirely, he interfered in his cool, decisive way, which always carried its point.

"It was foolish to take that stand," he said. "Other mothers went and why should not she? She had already stayed in too much. She was injuring herself, and"--what was infinitely worse to Wilford--"she was losing her good looks."

As proof of this he led her to the gla.s.s, showing her the pale, thin face and unnaturally large eyes, so distasteful to him. Wilford Cameron was very proud of his handsome house, proud to know that everything there was in keeping with his position and wealth, but when Katy was immured in the nursery, the bright picture was obscured, for it needed her presence to make it perfect, and he began to grow dissatisfied with his surroundings, while abroad he missed her quite as much, finding the opera, the party or the reception insipid where she was not, and feeling fully conscious that Wilford Cameron, without a wife, and that wife Katy, was not a man of half the consequence he had thought himself to be. Even Sybil Grandon did not think it worth her while to court his attention, especially if Katy were not present, for unless some one saw and felt her triumph it ceased directly to be one. On the whole Wilford was not well pleased with society, as he found it this winter, and knowing where the trouble lay he resolved that Katy should no longer remain at home, growing pale and faded and losing her good looks.

Wilford would not have confessed it, and perhaps was not himself aware of the fact, that Katy's beauty was quite as dear to him as Katy herself. If she lost it her value was decreased accordingly, and so as a prudent husband it behooved him to see that what was so very precious was not unnecessarily thrown away. It did not take long for Katy to understand that her days of quiet were at an end, that neither crib nor cradle could avail her longer. Mrs. Kirby, selected from a host of applicants, was wholly competent for Baby Cameron, and Katy must throw aside the mother which sat so prettily upon her and become again the belle. It was a sad trial, but Katy knew that submission was the only alternative, and so when Mrs. Banker's invitation came, she accepted it at once, but there was a sad look upon her face as she kissed her baby for the twentieth time ere going to her dressing-maid.

Never until this night had Helen realized how beautiful Katy was when in full evening dress, and her exclamations of delight brought a soft flush to Katy's cheek, while she felt a thrill of the olden vanity as she saw herself once more arrayed in all her costly apparel. Helen did not wonder now at Wilford's desire to have Katy with him, and very proudly she watched her young sister as Esther twined the flowers in her hair and then brought out the ermine cloak she was to wear as a protection against the cold.

"If they could only see you at home," she said, while instantly there arose a thought of Dr. Grant, and Helen felt a throb of keen regret as she contrasted the gay, airy figure with the grave, quiet Morris, who found his chief delights in works of charity, and whose feet lingered amid the haunts of poverty and suffering, rather than such scenes as that to which she was going.

But Katy's path lay far from Dr. Grant's, and only Wilford Cameron had A right to say whither she should go or when return. He was standing by her now, making a few suggestions and expressing his approbation in a way which reminded Helen of that night before the marriage, when Katy's dress had been condemned, and of that sadder, bitterer time when she had poured her tears like rain into that trunk returned. All she had thought of Wilford then was now more than confirmed, but he was kind to her and very proud of Katy, so she forced back her feelings of disquiet, which, however, were roused again when she saw the dark look on his face, as Katy, at the very last, ran to the nursery to kiss baby again, succeeding this time in waking it, as was proven by the cry that made Wilford scowl angrily and brought to his lips a word of rebuke for Katy's childishness.

"You are like a girl with her first doll," he said, as he opened the door for her to pa.s.s, and Helen, though she felt the truth of the remark, knew there was no necessity for him to throw so much of lordly displeasure into his manner, and make poor Katy look so distressed and worried as they drove rapidly along the streets to Mrs. Banker's.

The party was not so large as that at Sybil Grandon's, but it was more select, and Helen enjoyed it better, meeting people like Morris, who readily appreciated the peculiarities of her mind, and who would have made her forget all else around her if she had not been a guest at Mark Ray's house. It was the first time she had met him away from home since the night of Mrs. Grandon's, and as if forgetful of her reserve, he paid her numberless attentions, which, coming from the master of the house, were the more to be valued.

With a quiet dignity Helen received them all, the thought once creeping into her heart that she was preferred, notwithstanding that engagement.

But she soon repudiated this idea as unworthy of her. She could not be wholly happy with one who, to win her hand, had trampled upon the affections of another, even if that other were Juno Cameron.

And so she kept out of his way as much as possible, watching her sister admiringly as she moved about with an easy, a.s.sured grace, or floated like a snow flake through the dance in which Wilford persuaded her to join, looking after her with a proud, all-absorbing feeling, which left no room for Sybil Grandon's coquettish advances.

As if the reappearance of Katy had awakened all that was weak and silly in Sybil's nature, she now put forth her full powers of attraction, but met only with defeat. Katy, and even Helen, was preferred before her--both belles of a different type; but both winning golden laurels from those who hardly knew which to admire most--Katy, with her pure, delicate beauty and charming simplicity, or Helen, with her attractive face and sober, quiet manner. But Katy grew tired early. She could not endure what she once did; and when she came to Wilford with a weary look upon her face and asked him to go home, he did not refuse, though Mark, who was near, protested against their leaving so soon.

"Surely Miss Lennox might remain; the carriage could be sent back for her; and he had hardly seen her at all."

But Miss Lennox chose to go; and after her white cloak and hood pa.s.sed down the stairs and through the door into the street, there was nothing attractive for Mark in his crowded parlors, and he was glad when the last guest had departed and he was left alone with his mother.

Operas, parties, receptions, dinners, matinees, morning calls, drives, visits and shopping; how fast one crowded upon the other, leaving scarcely an hour of leisure to the devotee of fashion who attended to them all. How astonished Helen was to find what high life in New York implied, ceasing to wonder that so many of the young girls grew haggard and old before their time, or that the dowagers grew selfish and hard and scheming. She would die outright, she thought, and she pitied poor little Katy, who, having once returned to the world, seemed destined to remain there, in spite of her entreaties and the excuses she made for declining the invitations which poured in so fast.

"Baby was not well--baby needed her," was the plea with which she met Wilford's arguments, until the mention of his child was sure to bring a scowl upon his face, and it became a question in Helen's mind whether he would not be happier if baby had never come between him and his ambition.

To hear Katy's charms extolled, and know that she was admired, and he was envied the possession of so rare a gem, feeling all the while sure of her faith, was Wilford's great delight, and it is not strange that, without any very strong fatherly feeling or principle of right in that respect, he should be irritated by the little life so constantly interfering with his pleasure and so surely undermining Katy's health.

For Katy did not improve, as Wilford hoped she might; and with his two hands he could almost span her slender waist, while the beautiful neck and shoulders, once his chiefest pride, were no longer worn uncovered, for Katy would not display her bones, whatever the fashion might be. In this dilemma Wilford sought his mother, and the result of that consultation brought a more satisfied look to his face than it had worn for many a day.

"Strange he had never thought of it, when it was what so many people did," he said to himself as he hurried home. "It was the very best thing both for Katy and the child, and would obviate every difficulty."

Next morning, as she sometimes did when more than usually fatigued, Katy breakfasted in bed; while Wilford's face, as he sat opposite Helen at the table, had on it a look of quiet determination, such as she had rarely seen there before. In a measure accustomed to his moods, she felt that something was wrong, and never dreaming that he intended honoring her with his confidence, she was wishing he would finish the coffee and leave, when, motioning the servant from the room, he said abruptly, and in a tone which roused Helen's antagonistic powers at once, it was so cool, so decided: "I believe you have more influence over your sister than I have; at least, she has latterly shown a willfulness in disregarding me and a willingness to listen to you, which confirms me in this conclusion--"

"Well," and Helen twisted her napkin ring nervously, waiting for him to say more; but her manner, so different from Katy's, disconcerted him, making him a little uncertain what might be hidden behind that rigid face, confronting him so steadily, a little doubtful as to the expression it would put on when he had said all he meant to say.

He did not expect it to wear a look as frightened and hopeless as Katy's did when he last saw it upon the pillow, for he knew how different the two sisters were, and much as he had affected to despise Helen Lennox, he was afraid of her now. It had never occurred to him before that he was somewhat uncomfortable in her presence, that her searching brown eyes held him often in check; but it came to him now that his wife's sister was in his way, for what could he do with a will almost as firm as his own, and she was sure to take Katy's part. He saw it in her face, even though she had no idea of what he meant to say.

"Well;" that was the last sound heard in the quiet room; but since its utterance the relative positions of the two individuals sitting opposite each other had changed. Wilford regarding Helen as an obstacle in his path, and Helen regarding him as a tyrant contemplating some direful harm against her sister.

He must explain some time, and so at last he continued: "You must have seen how opposed Katy is to complying with my wishes, setting them at naught, when she knows how much pleasure she would give me by yielding as she used to do."

"I don't know what you mean," Helen replied, "unless it is her aversion to going out, as that I think is the only point where her obedience has not been absolute."

Wilford did not like the words "obedience" and "absolute;" that is, he did not like the sound. Their definition suited him, but Helen's enunciation was at fault, and he answered quickly: "I do not require absolute obedience from Katy. I never did; but in the matter to which you refer, I think she might consult my wishes as well as her own. There is no reason for her secluding herself in the nursery as she does. Do you think there is?"

He put the question direct, and Helen answered it.

"I do not believe Katy means to displease you, but she has conceived a strong aversion for festive scenes, and besides baby is not healthy, you know, and like all young mothers she may be over-anxious, while I fancy she has not the fullest confidence in the nurse, and this may account for her unwillingness to leave the child with her."

Kirby was all that was desirable, Wilford replied. His mother had taken her from a genteel, respectable house in Bond Street, and he paid her an enormous price, consequently she must be right; and then there came out the story how his mother had decided that neither Katy nor baby would improve so long as they remained together--that for both a separation was desirable--that she had recommended sending the child into the country, where it would be better cared for than it could be at home with Katy constantly undoing all Mrs. Kirby had done, disregarding her orders, waking it from sleep whenever the fancy took her, and in short treating it much as she probably did her doll when she was a little girl. With the child away there would be nothing to prevent Katy's going out as she used to do, and getting back her good looks, which were somewhat impaired.

"Why, she looks older than you do," Wilford said, thinking thus to conciliate Helen, who quietly replied:

"There is not two years difference between us, and I have always been well, keeping regular hours until I came here."

Wilford's compliment had failed, and more annoyed than before, he asked, not what Helen thought of the arrangement, but if she would influence Katy to act and think rationally upon it; "at least you will not make it worse," he said, and this time there was something quite deferential and pleading in his manner.

Helen knew the matter was fixed, that neither Katy's tears nor entreaties would avail to revoke the decision, and so, though her whole soul rose in indignation against a man who would deliberately send his nursing baby from his roof because it was in his way, and was robbing his bride's cheek of its girlish bloom, she answered composedly:

"I will do what I can, but I must confess it seems to me an unnatural thing. I had supposed parents less selfish than that."