Part 31 (1/2)
Dr. Drayton smiled, as he said, ”And you are Miss Marion Berkley, I presume?”
”Yes,” replied Marion, offering him a chair, and seating herself at the same time. ”Rachel is staying with me; she has gone out riding with mamma. She did not expect you until to-morrow morning; but when the servant told me a gentleman was down here, I thought it must be you, but was sure I was mistaken when I saw you.”
”And why, may I ask?” inquired Dr. Drayton.
”Oh!” laughed Marion, a trifle confused, ”because I thought you were quite an old gentleman; at least old enough to be my father.”
”And so I am, almost,” replied Dr. Drayton, smiling; ”but tell me, does Rachel want to see me?”
”Indeed she does; she has talked about you every day this summer, and has hardly been able to wait for you to get here. But how did you mistake me for her? We are not in the least alike.”
”You must remember it is ten years since I saw her; then she was a little, dark-eyed thing with golden hair, something like yours; your black dress, too, misled me.”
”Golden hair!” exclaimed Marion, wis.h.i.+ng she had put on her mother's bright bow, thus saving herself all her embarra.s.sment,--”golden hair, I can't imagine such a thing; she has jet-black now.”
”I dare say I don't remember it very correctly; has she grown much?”
”She is very tall; much taller than I am.”
”I thought you were very tall just now when you ordered me out of the house,” said Dr. Drayton, with an amused smile.
”I beg you will never allude to the subject again,” said Marion, raising her head involuntarily, with a slightly haughty gesture, as she invariably did when she was annoyed, but did not wish to appear so; ”it was a mistake for which I sincerely beg your pardon.”
”As you said to me,” replied Dr. Drayton, ”no apology is needed. I promise never to allude to the subject again without your permission.”
”Which I certainly shall never grant,” laughed Marion, ashamed of her unnecessary hauteur. ”Now I shall be able to apply to you my one great test of the worth of humanity, that is, try your powers of keeping a secret.”
”I am willing to stand the test,” laughed Dr. Drayton, ”and feel sure that before morning I shall have no secret to keep, for by that time you will have told Rachel all about it.”
”I shall do no such thing,” replied Marion, warmly; ”but there is the carriage. Excuse me, Dr. Drayton, and I will tell Rachel you are here.”
The meeting between Dr. Drayton and Rachel was far different from his interview with Marion. Rachel had longed for his coming, for although she could not remember him very distinctly, she could not feel him to be a stranger to her; her father was very fond of his younger brother, and had always been in the habit of talking with his daughter a great deal about her Uncle Robert, until he had become almost a hero in her eyes.
She had been in the habit of a.s.sociating him in her mind with her father, so that she had quite forgotten he was many years his junior, and was not prepared to find so young a man; in fact, only thirty-two, although his beard gave him the appearance of being a few years older.
There was a certain sense of strength and power about him, which led her to look upon him with the same feelings of deference and respect with which she would look upon an older man, while at the same time, the fact of his being younger put her upon an easier, more familiar footing with him; in short, Rachel was delighted with him, and felt she would receive from him all the affection and watchful care of a father, combined with the more demonstrative attentions of an elder brother.
CHAPTER XXII.
DR. DRAYTON'S HOUSE-KEEPER.
”Mrs. Berkley, I'm in a dilemma,” said Dr. Drayton, as he entered the library one morning where that lady was sitting, and took a chair near her.
”Can I help you out of it?”
”If you can't, I don't know of any one else to go to,” said Dr. Drayton, who had become a daily visitor at the Berkleys'. ”I have bought a house, and now I want a house-keeper. Even if I felt inclined to brave the opinion of Mrs. Grundy, and settle down with Rachel at the head of my establishment, I would not do it; she is too young to have so much care on her shoulders; I want the rest of her life to be as bright and happy as it is possible for me to make it. My idea is to get some cultivated, refined, middle-aged lady to come and take the care of the house-keeping, and be a person who would make it pleasant for Rachel, and any young friends she might wish to have with her. But how can I get such a person? I answered two advertis.e.m.e.nts last week, and had interviews with the females themselves at the Tremont House. One of them was old and thin, and had a sharp voice that sent a chill through me every time she spoke,--would be about as cheerful a member of society as an animated skeleton; the other fair, fat, and forty, but an incessant talker, and looked as if she had not brushed her hair for a week. Now, Mrs. Berkley, what shall I do? Here I am, a poor, forlorn bachelor, who throws himself on your hands. You must help me somehow or other.”
”Well, the best thing I can advise,” replied Mrs. Berkley, with an amused smile, ”is for you to cease to be a bachelor.”