Back Aa

From Jest to Earnest

<h1 id="id00792" style="margin-top: 6em">CHAPTER IX.</h1> <h5 id="id00793">"THE OTHER SET."</h5> The minister and his wife were scarcely host and hostess on this occasion, as a self-appointed committee of ladies had taken upon themselves the duty; but, like all corporations, this committee had no soul and a very indefinite body. No one knew just who they were, or where to find them, and some of the members, in the bewilderment of unaccustomed official position and honors, seemed to have lost themselves, and bustled aimlessly all over the house. The more staid and practical sisters of the committee were down in the kitchen, breathlessly setting tables which were almost as speedily cleared by people whose appetites were as keen as the winter night without. "I do declare," ejaculated Mrs. Gubling, as one devastating tableful rose lingeringly from the repast, and another flock began to gather in hungry expectancy at the door,—"I do declare, I'm near beat out. Is this a starvin' community? At this rate they'll eat up all there is in the house, and the minister and his wife and babies into the bargain." "Well," said Mrs. Rhamm, conveying the last bit of corned beef, which had been reluctantly left upon the plate as "manners," to a rather capacious mouth, "if they would eat up some of the babies it wouldn't be so bad. I don't see why poor ministers will have so many babies." "The Lord takes care of 'em. We don't," suggested Mrs. Gubling. "We all do our part, I s'pose. The worst of it is that it makes it oncomfortable for a church to give a small salary." "I wish our church was more uncomfortable then. It's a shame we give Mr. Dlimm only six hundred. But come, if we don't git another table set they'll eat us up." "I'd like to see 'em," said Mrs. Rhamm, with a disdainful sniff. "Well, you be a bit old and tough," chuckled Mrs. Gubling. With the solace of this sally, which seemed true, if not true wit, these hard-featured mothers in Israel set about their tasks with the deftness that long experience gives. At the time De Forrest conveyed the ladies into the hall, the upstairs members of the committee were buzzing around somewhere else, for there was no one to receive them. They were gradually hustled or carried into the parlor or main room, and here Hemstead and Harcourt found them in characteristic conditions. Addie's and De Forrest's elegant noses were decidedly retrousses; Bel appeared both disgusted and frightened; while Lottie's face wore an expression of intense and amused curiosity. She was seeing "the other set" to her heart's content, and all was as new and strange as if she had visited another land. Harcourt joined Addie, and they began to whisper satirical criticisms on the remarks and manners of those around. Hemstead's interest mainly centred in watching Lottie, and in noting the effect of her contact with plain and uncultured people. He was glad he did not see the repulsion of a little mind and a narrow nature, as was the case with most of the others. Though it was evident that she had no sympathy with them, or for them, there was intelligent interest and wide-awake curiosity. While the others were incasing themselves in exclusive pride, she was eager to investigate and get en rapport with this new phase of humanity. But trammailed by her city ideas, she felt that she could not speak to any one without the formality of an introduction. But the ice was broken for her unexpectedly. Feeling her dress pulled, she turned and found a very stout old lady sitting near her, who asked in a loud whisper, "Been down to supper yet?" "No," said Lottie, "I don't wish any." "I do, but I'm afeard I won't get none. You see I'm big and clumsy anyway, and now I'm so lame with the rheumatiz that I kin hardly move." "It's too bad," said Lottie, pathetically, but with a swift comical glance at the others. "Yes, it's kinder orful to be so helpless," said the old woman, with a complacent sigh, delighted at having a sympathetic auditor. "I'm dreadfully afeard I won't git no supper. I'm like the withered man at the pool of Bethesdy. Whenever they are ready for another batch 'while I'm a-comin' another steppeth down before me.'" "Well, you're not very much withered, that's one comfort to be thankful for," said Lottie. "I'd like to be thankful for my supper, if I could only git a chance," persisted the old woman. "You shall have a chance. When is the pool troubled? When shall we put you in?" "There! now is the time," said her new acquaintance, dropping her affected and pious tone, and speaking with sharp eagerness. "See, one batch is comin' up, and 'nother is going down." "Mr. Hemstead, will you assist me in escorting this old lady to the supper-table?" Hemstead's face was aglow with approval, and he instantly complied, while the others, understanding Lottie better, were convulsed with laughter. It was no easy thing for them unitedly to manage the hobbling mountain of flesh. When they came to the narrow stairway, matters were still more serious. "You shall go first," whispered Lottie to Hemstead, "for if she should fall on me, good-by, Lottie Marsden." Hemstead patiently, carefully, and with the utmost deference, assisted the helpless creature down the stairs. "You're as polite to her as if she were a duchess," said Lottie, in a low tone. "She is more than a duchess. She is a woman," he replied. Lottie gave him a quick, pleased look, but said, "Such old-fashioned chivalry is out of date, Mr. Hemstead." "He's right, miss," said the old woman, sharply. "I'm not Dutch." Lottie dropped behind to hide her merriment at this speech, and Hemstead appeared, with his charge clinging to his arm, at the kitchen door, which her ample form nearly filled. "My sakes alive! Auntie Lammer, how did you get down here?" said Mrs. Gubling. "We hain't ready for you yet." "No matter," said Mrs. Lammer, "I thank the marcies I've got down safe, and I'm goin' to stay till I git my supper." "Can I help you?" asked Lottie, glancing curiously around the room. They looked with even more curiosity at her; and a strange contrast she made, in her rich and tasteful costume and rare beauty, with those plain, middle-aged, hard-working women, and the small, dingy room. For a moment they stared at her without reply, then gave each other a few suggestive nudges; and Mrs. Rhamm was about to speak rather slightingly, when good-natured Mrs. Gubling said: "You are very kind, miss, but you don't look cut out for our work. Besides, my dear, it's an orful dangerous place down here. I'm afraid we'll git eat up ourselves before the evening is over. I'm sure you would be, if you stayed. I wouldn't mind taking a bite myself"; and the good woman and her assistants laughed heartily over this standing joke of the evening, while Auntie Lammer, seeing that Mrs. Gubling was the leading spirit of the supper-room, quivered in all her vast proportions with politic and propitious mirth. All this was inexpressibly funny to Lottie, who had the keenest sense of the absurd, and with a sign to Hemstead she drew him away, saying, "This exceeds any play I ever saw. I didn't know people who were not acting could be so queer and comical." "Well, Miss Lottie," he said, as they ascended the stairs, "I admit that humanity everywhere often has its ridiculous side, but I have been laughed at too much myself to enjoy laughing at others." "And why should you be laughed at so much?" "I suppose it is the fate of overgrown, awkward boys, who have a tendency to blurt out the truth on all occasions." "Such a tendency as that will always make you trouble, I assure you." "It hasn't with you, yet." "Our acquaintance has been very brief." "And yet I seem to know you so well! I would not have believed it possible in one short day." "I think you are mistaken. But you have ceased to be a stranger to me. I have remarked before to-day, that I knew you better than some I have seen from childhood." "I am happy to say that I wish to conceal nothing." "Few can say that." "O, I don't mean that I am better than other people, only that it's best to appear just what we are. People should be like coin, worth their face—" "I was in search of you," interrupted De Forrest, as they stood talking a moment near the head of the stairs in the hall. "We did not know but that the sylph you escorted away had made a supper of Hemstead, with you as a relish. Have you seen enough of this bear-garden yet?" "No, indeed," said Lottie; "I'm just beginning to enjoy myself." From openly staring at and criticising the party from Mrs. Marchmont's, the young people began to grow aggressive, and, from class prejudices, were inclined to be hostile. There were whispered consultations, and finally one habitue of the store and tavern thought he could cover himself with glory by a trick, and at the same time secure a kiss from Lottie, the prettiest. The conspiracy was soon formed. A kissing game in one of the upper rooms was suspended for a moment, and one of the tall girls accompanied him down as if they were a delegation, and on the principle that in designs against a woman a female confederate is always helpful in disarming suspicion. He approached Lottie with the best manners he could assume, and said, "We are having some games upstairs. Perhaps you would like to join us. We'd like to have you." "Do come," added the tall girl; "they are real nice." "Certainly," said Lottie, who was now ready for another adventure. "Come; let us all go." "The others needn't come unless they want to," said the young man; for he didn't relish the lawyer's presence, whom he knew by reputation, nor the searching look of the tall stranger whom he did not know. "Mr. Hemstead, you and Julian come," said Lottie, and as they ascended the stairs she studied this new specimen of Scrub Oaks, who was a loafer of the village as De Forrest was an idler of the town. They both belonged to the same genus, though the latter would have resented such a statement as the foulest insult. The manners and the smart finery of her new acquaintance amused Lottie very much. When they reached the room, they found it full of whispering, giggling young people. The tall girl, as instructed, said, "Now let us form a ring with our hands on this rope." This having been done, she said, "Now, Mr. Shabb, you must go inside first"; and then, with a nudge to Lottie, she explained, "He'll try to hit our hands with his, and if he hits your hands you will have to go inside the ring." What else he would do, she left to be disclosed by action. Then he of the flaming neck-tie and bulging cheek took his place with a twinkling eye that meant mischief. De Forrest and Hemstead declined to play, but the latter slipped forward and stood near Lottie. He was not sure, but dimly remembered seeing this game before, when it was not played so innocently as the tall girl had described. The young rustic made extravagant but purposely vain efforts to strike the hands of others, and Lottie watched the scene with laughing curiosity. Suddenly he wheeled round and struck her hands sharply; and to her horrified surprise it seemed but a second later that his repulsive face was almost against her own. But something came between, and, starting back, she saw the baffled youth imprint a fervent kiss on the back of Hemstead's hand. There was a loud laugh at him from those who had expected to laugh with him. He swaggered up to Hemstead, and said threateningly, "What do you mean?" "What do YOU mean?" asked Lottie, confronting him with blazing eyes. "It is well this gentleman interposed. If you had succeeded in your insult I should have had you punished in a way that you would not soon forget." "It's only part of the game," muttered he, abashed by her manner. "Part of the game?" "Yes," giggled the tall girl, faintly; "it's a kissing game." "Did you know it was such?" asked Lottie, indignantly, of De Forrest and Hemstead. "Indeed I did not," said De Forrest; "and if you say so I'll give this fellow the flogging, anyway." "Come right out, and do it now," was the pert response. "All I can say is, Miss Marsden," explained Hemstead, "that I suspected something wrong, and took means to prevent it. How these nice-looking girls can allow this fellow to kiss them is more than I can understand." "No lady would," said Lottie, as she swept disdainfully out; and under the withering influence of these remarks kissing games languished the rest of the evening; only young children, and a few of the coarser-natured ones, participating. But soon the absurdity of the whole scene overcame Lottie, and she laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. As they were slowly descending the stairs a faded little woman said, "I'm glad to see you enjoying yourself, Miss Marchmont. It was very kind of you and your party to come so far." "I am not Miss Marchmont," said Lottie, "though I came with her." "Well, as the minister's wife, I would like her and all her party to know of our grateful appreciation." "You thank us beyond our deserts. But are you the minister's wife? I am glad to make your acquaintance"; and she held out her hand, which Mrs. Dlimm seemed glad to take. At this moment there came the cry of an infant from one of the upper rooms. "O, there goes my baby," said Mrs. Dlimm; "I thought I heard it before"; and she was about to hasten on. "May I not go with you and see the baby?" asked Lottie. What mother ever refused such a request? In a moment Lottie was in the one small room in which, on this portentous occasion, the three younger children were huddled, the others being old enough to take part in what, to them, was the greatest excitement of their lives, thus far. Lottie looked curiously around, with the quick, appreciative eye by which ladies seem to gather accurately at a glance the effect of a costume and the style and character of an apartment and its occupants. But she politely, and from a certain innate interest, gave such attention to the baby as to win the mother's heart. It was but an ordinary baby, although the fattest and sturdiest member of a rather pinched household; but Lottie wonderingly saw that to the faded mother it was a cherub just from heaven. Lottie could not understand it. A perfumed baby, in lace and muslin, might be a nice pet if the nurse were always within call; but the sole care of this chubby-cheeked Moloch, that would sacrifice its mother as unconsciously and complacently as the plant absorbs moisture, seemed almost as prosaic and dreadful as being devoured alive. "Does no one help you take care of that child?" asked she. "Well, my husband and the elder children help some." "Haven't you a nurse for all these children?" "No, indeed. It's as much as we can do to clothe and feed them." "Don't you keep any servants at all?" "Yes, we have a girl in the kitchen, but she's almost as much bother as she is worth." "How do you get along?" "I hardly know—somewhat as the birds do out of doors." "Are you happy?" "I've hardly time to think. I think I am, though,—happy as most people. Some days bright, some days cloudy, and now and then a storm. That's the way it is with all, I imagine. We all have our crosses, you know, but by and by all will come right." "I should be cross enough with all your crosses." "They might make you patient. The crossest people I know are those who shun all crosses." "Now I think of it, I'm inclined to believe that's true," said Lottie, reflectively. Then she whispered, as she walked softly to the mother's side, "Baby is going to sleep, isn't it?" With different expressions they both peered into the full-moon face, two features of which, the eyes, were becoming obliterated by the white, drooping lids. Lottie looked as if she were examining a zoological specimen. Mrs. Dlimm gazed with a smile of deep content and tenderness. The undisturbed rest of the child upon her bosom was a type of her own mind at that moment. She was nature's child, God's child, and the babe was hers. To the true and simple children of nature, who, without thought of self or the public eye, are quietly doing their duty in their own little niches, these moments of peace with strange thrills of joy are constantly coming. If this worn mother could look down upon the child, and her plain, pale face grow beautiful with spiritual light, how must the God who inspires all love—who is the source of tenderness—have regarded her? The expression of this woman's face puzzled Lottie beyond measure. It was so incongruous, irreconcilable with the burdens, the weary cares, and ceaseless toil and anxiety of her lot. It was so out of keeping with the noisy throng and confused bustle that filled the house, and it dimly suggested to the proud belle a condition of mind before undreamt of in her philosophy. Some new and curious thoughts stole into her heart as she watched the mother slowly rocking backward and forward, uttering a low, crooning lullaby,—the gentlest sound that ever falls on mortal ears. For some reason there came into her soul a sudden loathing of her own selfishness and callousness. After the child had been laid in the cradle, she asked, "What did you mean when you said, 'It will all come right some day'?" "Well, I suppose I meant that God's little children often get sorely perplexed with their cares and troubles in this world, but when we get home and sit down to rest and think it all over, it will then seem right." "Home?" "Yes, home in our Heavenly Father's house. That's the only real home we have. We only 'stop,' as the Irish say, here and there for a little while in this world." "And do you think of heaven as a pleasant home and rest after what seems to me your very hard life?" "Certainly. How do you think of it?" "Well, to tell the truth, I have not thought much about it." Before Mrs. Dlimm could reply, there came anything but a heavenly interruption. It was as if Moses and Aaron were within the cool and shadowy tabernacle, feasting on spiritual manna, and there came a delegation from the Hebrew camp, clamoring for the "leeks and onions of Egypt." Though the congregation often said, "It's a pity Mrs. Dlimm is such a meek and quiet little woman," and though the self-appointed committee of ladies was so large, and the minister himself was downstairs, yet when the first real emergency of the evening arose, the upstairs members of the committee were helpless, and the best thing Mrs. Gubling, the leading spirit downstairs, could do, was to "slick up," as she said, and "go tell the parson's wife." But seeing Mr. Dlimm on the way, she beckoned him aside with a portentous nod. He, poor man, heard her tidings with dismay. He had fallen into the habit of taking all his difficulties either to the Lord or to his wife, and in this case he felt that both must come to his aid. With Mrs. Gubling he at once hastened to the nursery, and entered rather abruptly. Mrs. Dlimm raised her finger impressively, then pointed to the cradle. "But, my dear—" began her husband, rather impatiently. "Hush," said the wife, in a low tone; "whatever's the matter don't wake the baby, for then I can't do anything." "Mrs. Dlimm," said Mrs. Gubling, "they've eat up about everything there is downstairs, 'cept me, and there's three tables yet It's such a fine night, and the sleighing's so good, that lots more have come than we expected. I don't know how much money they brought, but they hain't brought provisions enough." "What shall we do?" asked Mr. Dlimm, nervously. "If it takes the last penny we have in the world," said his wife, with grave dignity, "no one shall leave our house hungry. You must step over to the store, Mr. Dlimm, and buy enough to satisfy every one." "I feel just as you do, my dear," he said, with the air of one who sees duty clearly, though it is far from being agree-able. "Just give me our poor little hoard from your bureau drawer, and I'll go at once." Lottie witnessed the scene with mingled amusement and indignation, and then, her face aglow with a sudden put pose, sped away also. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2

Update Required To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.