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over the banisters. He don't seem much grim rehearsal going on of what had haphurt,” added Mrs. Taplow considerately, pened there before. After all, events are for fear we should be alarmed.
only combinations out of people's own characters, thoughts, and wishes. Again
and again we watch the same histories rePEOPLE bestow strange gifts, and leave peating themselves, and one day we disodd legacies behind then, which are not cover, to our surprise, how large a share mentioned in their wills nor taxed by a we have had ourselves in things which paternal government. Besides bis money have befallen us apparently from without. in the funds, his landed estates, his hand- When I called on that occasion, Josesome family plate, Mr. Ellis had left his phine had gone off to some week-day temper to his two eldest children. The service, of which there are a great many two younger daughters, Josephine and at our parish cathedral. The peaceful Mary, took after their mother. Josephine old lady in her soft Indian shawls sat, succumbed to the family demon, and poor owl-like, in her corner, watching us sleepMary had fled from it with Francis Arn- ily. The colonel was pacing the room heim, the “adventurer,” as Thomas called and announcing, with immense decision, him. The story of her marriage was a that he was going to the club. Bessie dreary one; but it contained one little was finishing her notes at the writingepisode, which has been told elsewhere, table. You had only to look at her and which I cannot think of still without as she sat unflinchingly dotting, crossing, some emotion - a meeting, a reconcilia- and despatching her missives, to see what tion, when mother and daughter, after a fund of energy was strapped in with years of estrangement, by a happy chance, her leather belt and silver chains. The ran into one another's arms one summer colonel's wife, who had been an heiress evening. Mary was forgiven, but that and accustomed to her comforts, was was all. Her family would not accept lying on the sofa, uttering the most placid her husband, and she, being a proud audacious suggestions. woman and true wife, went away with him “But after all, if Josephine wished it, once more, and not very long afterward why didn't she have him?” said Mrs. had passed beyond all estrangement and Colonel to her mother-in-law. all reproach. She died at Munich, ten- “ As it happens, she didn't wish it," derly watched and cared for to the last. said Bessie, suddenly joining in, and The poor musician remained abroad; he flinging the words over her shoulder. could not face the people who had made “ Josephine never wished to leave her his wise unhappy for so long; he could mother; and I don't know why Rosa scarcely forgive her mother. Josephine, should interfere.” the youngest sister, who had been faith- “Interfere !” said Rosa, who had a ful in a timid way, was the only one of the sort of feather-bed manner when Bessie family he ever wrote to. He would touch attacked her. “Interfere ? I only asked none of poor Mary's money. He could a question. What is he like, Bessie keep the child, he said; the interest of dear?” her mother's fortune might accumulate. “ I cannot tell you.
He is no friend of Fina would some day appreciate her little mine. Josephine made his acquaintance fortune, the more because her up-bringing at the hospital, and not under her own had been modest. A musician's life be. mother's roof." longs to towns, and Arnheim wandered " It don't do; it don't do!” the colonel about Europe with his violin and his little said, stopping short in his perambuladaughter, from one city to another, frorn tions, and settling himself in his tight one concert to another, carrying his lone- coat. "Young ladies shouldn't meddle liness and his patient music. He was with hospitals and doctors. They are all not a great musician. He was a consci- very well in their proper place, and a man entious and painstaking inan. With Mary may do as he likes; but a lady should he had been happy, and purposefull, and always have some one with her — a serhard-working. Without her he was all vant, if nobody else can go.” lost and at sea.
This sapient remark was greatly apI could understand what had occurred proved by Miss Ellis, who emphatically at the time of. Mary Arnheim's marriage, endorsed it with “ That is also my humble when I heard the colonel and his sister opinion. So I have always said from the talking about Josephine one day. I had first.” gone with a message to old Palace “A servant! That might be very awkSquare. It seemed as if it were some ward,” said Mrs. Thomas, reflectively.
As she spoke, the door opened and the Thomas rose from the sofa, came forward, red head of Hoopers, the page-boy, who and said in her most languid tones : had been specially engaged to chaperon so good as to come a little nearer. Mrs. Josephine, appeared in the door. “If Ellis is rather deaf.” you please, miss,” said Hoopers myste- "I don't know why my coming should riously, “ there's a gentleman rung at the trouble you, ma'am,” said the doctor, stridbell. He ask if the family were alone, ing up the room, and utterly ignoring the and I told him as how Miss Josephine two wardens at the door (where, by the was out. So he said as how Miss Ellis way, I could see that little wretch Hoopers will do, and I thought as
grinning). “What I want to say is soon “What is all this?” says Miss Ellis, said, I admire your daughter very much, wheeling round. “Go down directly, and I asked her to marry me, as you may Hoopers, and send Burroughes up.” perhaps have heard. There seemed to be
Please’m, Mr. Burroughes, he have a family difficulties which at the time I did friend dropped in - he says as how he not sufficiently allow for, and I am afraid can't be rung up no more.
I was impatient and harsh. It has since “I had better see about it, Bessie," occurred to me that, perhaps, as you did said the colonel, briskly marching off, de- not know me, you imagined I was behavlighted at having something to do. ing in an underhand way: I therefore
No, Thomas," said Miss Ellis. “ This determined to come and ask you for her is a woman's province. I will speak to hand before speaking to her again; and Burroughes. Show the gentleman into now I hope I may be allowed to see Josethe library, Hoopers."
phine when she comes in.” Here Hoopers, who was certainly a “Oh, no, no, no," cried the old lady very vulgar boy, began making signals nervously, and greatly startled. “Pray with his thumb, and winks and signs over don't do anything of the sort.” And Miss his shoulder, to indicate that the stranger Bessie, recovering herself, came quickly was close behind him, and the colonel, to the rescue. who had gone to the door, ran up against “ You are very much in error if you ima tall, loose-jointed man, who had come agine any representations you can now up and now confronted the colonel some make will influence my sister's feelings. what cavalierly.
She has assured us that her mind is made I could guess who it was. A man up, and that she has plainly and positively about forty, rather shabbily dressed, with told you so.” hair already turning grey, and a brown “ Are you quite sure her mind is made hatchet face. When he spoke, some up?" said Rosa, once more reflective. slight north-country tone betrayed him, “Perfectly certain,” said Miss Ellis. but his voice was low and deep and his “ And you must allow me to add," cried words measured. He did not seem in the the colonel bursting in, “ that I heartily least disconcerted by the phalanx of ladies congratulate her on her good sense. It and armchairs, nor by the commanding is a most unsuitable match for a girl of aspect of the colonel. He looked round her position.” quietly, with bright, shaggy eyes.
“There is no matter for congratulation, " I asked for Miss Ellis," he said. “I if what I hear be true," said the doctor, was told Mrs. Ellis was an invalid. My haughtily. “I have no doubt we should name is John Adams. You may have not suit each other in the least. I came heard of me from
in perfect sincerity to you and yours, and “From my sister Josephine,” the colo. I have been received with impertinence. nel answered haughtily. “It is perhaps You may tell her I shall not trouble you just as well she is out. If you will come or her with any more advances. If she down with me, Mr. - Dr. Adams
changes her mind she can let me know.” “I have nothing to say to you in pri- And he turned and marched out of the vate,” said the shabby man, looking doubt- room without another word. fully at the spruce one. 6 I wanted to Well, I do feel small,” said Mrs. speak to Mrs. Ellis."
Thomas. My mother, as you know, is an invalid, There was a dead silence. Then the and must be spared discussion,” said Miss storm broke. Miss Ellis burst forth in Ellis. Anything you may wish to say her fury at me, at her sister-in-law, at the will be listened to elsewhere."
unlucky Burroughes, who was rung up “Why not here?” said the old lady, and rung down. When Josephine came seemingly interested, and speaking very home from church, poor Mrs. Ellis was in vigorously, while, to my ainusement, Mrs. | hysterical tears; Mrs. Thomas had locked
berself into her room; the colonel was what one wishes when he is left to himfussing and fuming like the funnel of a self. It is such waste for dear Bessie to steam-engine.
take so much trouble about him. But Her mother clung to Josephine. “Oh, what has become of Dr. Adams? I can't take me to my room, take me to my room ! hear anything of him. I believe he is Don't leave us alone. Bessie is so angry, gone away." poor dear. That dreadful man was here, The doctor had vanished, but be reand frightened us all, my child."
appeared before long — oddly enough, in “What did he say, mamma?” said Sophy King's correspondence. Josephine.
"He called us impertinent. He Oh, my Josephine, do not leave me !" SOPHY KING was a great favorite of
“Let us forget him altogether,” cried mine, and her letters were always welMiss Ellis. "Never let me hear his come when they arrived with their odd. name any more."
looking stamps, whether cross keys of Miss Ellis might say what she liked, Rome or fierce mustachios of Italy, or but we all remembered our visitor, and Liberty with scales and outstretched arms. not without a certain respect. John Ad- Sophy was evidently very much taken ams was not one of those men who are with the Arnheims. Her letters were forgotten as soon as their backs are full of them. “We had a delightful drive turned. To be remembered is a gift in from Grindelwald," she wrote; “as we itself of vital worth to those whose busi- were trotting down the road, we met Fina ness it is to lead others. John Adams and her father, who had come half-way to had a great reputation as a lecturer, and meet us. I left mamma with her maid in his pupils opened their eyes, mouths, ears, the carriage, and walked back with them at what he said that week in the lecture by a pretty cross-road Fina had discovhall in the great London hospital to which ered. She looked like a little Proserpine he belonged. What had come to him? with a great lapful of flowers which she He was eloquent enough, but sarcastic, had been gathering. She began telling irate, intolerant. They hardly recognized me where each one of them grew and how him.
she had found it. Don't you like EuI saw Josephine again after this, but I phrasia ?' she said, holding up a tiny found her very reserved, and evidently Aower; this grows in the open Alps. disinclined to speak of what had hap- Do you know it is my name as well as pened. When I ventured to say a word, Josephine? We call that the Shepherd's she stopped me at once.
Staircase just below.' The Shepherd's Pray, dear Miss Williamson, do not Staircase consisted of a few rough steps speak of it any more. I should not be of rock and stone, over which a soft nethappy. You see what a life it would be work of moss and creeping bilberry had for my
mother without me. He will for- quickly spread. The girl sprang lightly get all about it very soon."
from one stone to another, but Arnheim Perhaps she was right; and yet, at sat down to rest for a moment, when we John Adams's age, time is short, and new reached the bottom. Isn't this a pretty impressions are not easily made. With place?' said Fina. 'Don't you wish we older people fidelity is a habit as well as always lived here, papa, or that there a quality.
were mountains in the streets?' "The Mrs. Thomas Ellis came to see me one mountain-tops of cities must be in the Sunday, on her way from church, in most souls of the men who live there,' said gorgeous array: She looked like a sort Arnheim, looking at her fondly. of Catherine-wheel of satin, touched up down and rest, Fina; you have a long with gold braid. She was evidently anx- way to go yet.' But why do we always ious to talk it over.
live in towns ?' persisted Fina. Because I don't at all agree with the colonel. I make my living by music,' said ber Bessie is behaving most ridiculously,” father, and musicians must live in cities said the lady. “What do they expect? where there are orchestras and audiences, Everybody can't be rich, and Josephine and where the mountains are mountains might do a great deal worse. I hope Dr. of men. Music unheard is not quite Adams will come and pay us a nice long born, somehow, like something hoped for visit at Cradlebury. I shall get the colo- but unfulfilled. I don't think," he added, nel to persuade him.”
'that anything even in nature is much “The colonel !” said I.
inore glorious than a symphony of Beetho "Thomas is very good about doing ven's, with the pulse of a great audience
to beat time to it. Listen, there is mu. expression; as for her eyes, they seem to sic for you, papa,' said Fina laughing, as sing and dance to her father's violin, they a ludicrous loo loo loo reached us, sound- flash and shine with marvellous brighting from a little châlet on the plateau ness. I think Fina's great charm is in below, where a valiant tourist who had her self-confidence, or, rather, in her conordered some ginger-beer was trumpeting fidence in others, and her trust in their to the echoes and the scampering goats. sympathy. It is a curious, quick mind,
“The tourist joined our party, and came taking in half-a-dozen things at once; she trudging along with us for company. The listens to all the talking all down both day was hot and sultry, and the midges sides the table; her father calls her little were buzzing about the feet of the moun- pitcher; she can spy out strawberries far tains.
When we reached the valley away twinkling among the rocks, and she everything was cool and silent overhead, recognizes little black dots on the mounbut the valleys were alive, echoing, flow- tain-side as human beings and friends at ering, fructifying, and steaming with July. a glance. Her father told me that she
"We all came straggling along a lane had such bright eyes as a baby that he that lay between two wide châlet-besprin- christened her Euphrasia for a second kled meadows; a little brook bubbled name. swiftly along with them; its spray fell “When Fina appears dressed for the upon the grass and flowers. The after- table d'hôte, in her white dress with her noon rays were dazzling and bewildering, amber necklace clasped round her throat, the mists of heat rose with dull scents and stands there crisp, and clean, and from the fields, fresher ether came stream- fresh, she looks like her pretty namesake ing down from the torrents; we were in flower alive and chattering. a state of vague worry and rapture com- “ We are glad of our white dresses, for bined, bitten by midges, dazzled by sud- it is very hot and sultry here in the valden streams of light, footsore, and splash- ley. As I write, the dinner is over, the ing among the sparkling pools that lay in fountain and some distant piano are playtheir track, but carried on by the sweet ing a duet; a sort of sleepy dream touches and irresistible spirit of this Alpine life. everything. The fountain should be boilHorses' hoofs were stamped in the road, ing after the long day's burning glare, but delicate flowers were starting through the now tranquil the water sounds to parched fences, pretty, dirty little children, whose ears! The people of the place don't mind golden crowns of curly hair were sadly in the heat: they go by dragging their want of burnishing, came out from their children in little gocarts, or staggering barn-like homes, like little living sheaves along with hay-fields on their heads. of Indian corn, carrying flowers and smil. Then come mules from the mountain, ing innocently. An old shepherdess in then a travelling carriage jingles up. spectacles was turning over the hay in Such a carriageful came up to the door front of her wooden house. Girls with just now; an immense and noisy English babies in their arms were perched here family whose heels and voices reverberand there on the balconies ; cross lights ated through the hotel. They were all showed the interiors and figures at work having tea while some of the company in the rooms within. The goats rang their dined at the table d'hôte; brothers, sis. tinkling bells, but the cows were still up ters, big boys and little boys, an old aunt in the mountains.
or two, nondescript cousins of various “Mr. Arnheim and I were tired out ages, two giggling girls, and a huge and before we reached home; he walked along good-humored mother, who seemed to bent and heavy-footed, but Fina seemed take noise as a matter of course, and who, quite revived by the sight of the viliage. so long as her plate was duly replenished I saw more than one person look kindly by the attention of her children, seemed at her as she passed up the busy street, to require nothing else. When a smaller walking ahead with her flowers, followed child fell under the table with a crash, she by us two weary pedestrians. She walked made no remark beyond looking vaguely lightly on, carrying her store, stray frag- at one of the daughters; when one of the ments from that beautiful earthly rainbow boys gave a sudden yelp and upset the which springs up year by year, as much coffee-pot, this mother of Israel paused the offspring of the sun and rain as those for one instant and went on with her arcs we all love to gaze upon. Fina has, bread and butter. too, sprung up since you saw her last. “ Did you see her, papa ?' said Fina, She has a crop of dark, curly hair, a laughing ; .what a lazy mother! Why, quaint, irregular face with a very sweet | my mother always was thinking of your
things and my things. Grandmamma is “ It is enough to keep my father awake more like that lady: I could imagine her all night,' little Fina cried in despair; letting things go.
Was mamma very you don't know how easily he is made unhappy at home?' the girl asked sud- ill
quite ill.' denly, looking up into her father's face. “ After the Schumann came a pause;
"No, my child,' her father answered and the stars twinkled for a bit, — then gently; "she was very happy, and always the music began again in a different key; contented, and you must be like her. It I do not know why Arnheim had selected was my hasty temper that could not fit one of Mendelssohn's Songs without itself to her relations. But she loved Words, a solemn, melancholy march, too them, and for that reason I feel in charity sad for the occasion, -it silenced the with them now. ...
Your youngest aunt talk. is something like her, I think.'
" I should say that was the tune the Not Aunt Bessie,' said Fina, with a old cow died of, cried one of the young sparkle in her dark eyes.
men at the table next ours. " Aunt Bessie is the devil,' said Arn- “ Fina gave him one look, such a look heim with a wry face, notwithstanding his of scornful, contemptuous indignation. charity.
The youth stared, started, got up uneasily and walked away, with his hands in
his pockets, whistling, and in his confu“We all met again that evening at the sion ran up against a gentleman who was établissement. Fina came with mamma coming through the crowd, marching and me.
Arnheim was at his post, com- rather at haphazard, stumbling up against manding his little army of violins and backs of chairs, and over outstretched violoncellos. The musicians sat in a legs and sticks. phalanx on a sort of inclosed stage, bril- Fina, seeing the stranger, forgot her liantly lighted up. The dark sky over. indignation; she too jumped up from her head was lighted up too, but in a different chair, calling out, Mr. Adams ! Mr. fashion. A few little stars of cigar-ends Adams ! were you looking for me?' and cigarettes had fallen into the parterre. “Mr. Adams is a great friend of the The people looked very comfortably, es- Arnheims. He is a doctor - in small tablished, sitting out in the garden drink- practice, they tell me. He has made all ing their coffee, and enjoying the music sort of discoveries in science; but he has and the cool of the evening. Our noisy never had time to earn any money. He family had secured a couple of tables by has a lectureship at one of the great Lon. us, the mamma was installed with a don universities. He cured Arnheim special footstool. There was a cheerful once from a dangerous illness. He is drone of voices; children ran here and quite simple; but he impresses one - I there; waiters were darting in and out can't tell you why. among the crowd. They are certainly “We must wait to talk till your father swallows among human beings, as they has finished what he has to say, this docskim hither and thither, migrating in tor said to Fina; and he stood by her autumn across the Alps, vanishing for the chair while Arnheim played a touching winter and reappearing with the tourists. cadence, to which the whole orchestra One of them came fitting up with two replied with a lovely sweep of chords. excellent cups of chocolate for me and Then came chair-scraping; the swallows mamma in one hand; in the other he car- rushed about collecting their halfpence, ried a huge tray-full of cakes and ices for and the concert was over. the family party. The musicians began “I certainly grow more and more interto play a lovely sort of dance by Schu- ested in the Arnheims and their friends; mann; the little boys went on kicking even mamma, who is not enthusiastic, has their heels in valiant time to the music; taken to them. I don't know what my mamma and I sat sipping our chocolate father will say when he joins us. Church to the very sweetest cadence ; Fina was and State has always been his particular too much excited for cups of any sort. sphere hitherto, and he is very suspicious
“* There!' said she suddenly; that of anything outside it. Art and science stupid cornet has played E flat instead of seem to be naturally opposed to Church C sharp. He always does just in that and State, don't you think so ? and as for place. Poor, poor papa!'
all these kind, clever, impulsive people, “ Arnheim bad turned in warning they have scarcely a white neckcloth towards the unlucky cornet, who went on among them. nervously blundering.
“ The concert is all over at ten; and the