Volume I Part 9 (1/2)
”Ah, my prejudices,” Burrage went on; ”if you could see them--I a.s.sure you they are something monstrous!”
”Give them a regular ducking and make them gasp,” Matthias Pardon cried.
”If you want an opportunity to act on Harvard College, now's your chance. These gentlemen will carry the news; it will be the narrow end of the wedge.”
”I can't tell what you like,” Verena said, still looking into Olive's eyes.
”I'm sure Miss Chancellor likes everything here,” Mrs. Tarrant remarked, with a n.o.ble confidence.
Selah had reappeared by this time; his lofty, contemplative person was framed by the doorway. ”Want to try a little inspiration?” he inquired, looking round on the circle with an encouraging inflexion.
”I'll do it alone, if you prefer,” Verena said soothingly to her friend.
”It might be a good chance to try without father.”
”You don't mean to say you ain't going to be supported?” Mrs. Tarrant exclaimed, with dismay.
”Ah, I beseech you, give us the whole programme--don't omit any leading feature!” Mr. Burrage was heard to plead.
”My only interest is to draw her out,” said Selah, defending his integrity. ”I will drop right out if I don't seem to vitalise. I have no desire to draw attention to my own poor gifts.” This declaration appeared to be addressed to Miss Chancellor.
”Well, there will be more inspiration if you don't touch her,” Matthias Pardon said to him. ”It will seem to come right down from--well, wherever it does come from.”
”Yes, we don't pretend to say that,” Mrs. Tarrant murmured.
This little discussion had brought the blood to Olive's face; she felt that every one present was looking at her--Verena most of all--and that here was a chance to take a more complete possession of the girl. Such chances were agitating; moreover, she didn't like, on any occasion, to be so prominent. But everything that had been said was benighted and vulgar; the place seemed thick with the very atmosphere out of which she wished to lift Verena. They were treating her as a show, as a social resource, and the two young men from the College were laughing at her shamelessly. She was not meant for that, and Olive would save her.
Verena was so simple, she couldn't see herself; she was the only pure spirit in the odious group.
”I want you to address audiences that are worth addressing--to convince people who are serious and sincere.” Olive herself, as she spoke, heard the great shake in her voice. ”Your mission is not to exhibit yourself as a pastime for individuals, but to touch the heart of communities, of nations.”
”Dear madam, I'm sure Miss Tarrant will touch my heart!” Mr. Burrage objected, gallantly.
”Well, I don't know but she judges you young men fairly,” said Mrs.
Tarrant, with a sigh.
Verena, diverted a moment from her communion with her friend, considered Mr. Burrage with a smile. ”I don't believe you have got any heart, and I shouldn't care much if you had!”
”You have no idea how much the way you say that increases my desire to hear you speak.”
”Do as you please, my dear,” said Olive, almost inaudibly. ”My carriage must be there--I must leave you, in any case.”
”I can see you don't want it,” said Verena, wondering. ”You would stay if you liked it, wouldn't you?”
”I don't know what I should do. Come out with me!” Olive spoke almost with fierceness.
”Well, you'll send them away no better than they came,” said Matthias Pardon.
”I guess you had better come round some other night,” Selah suggested pacifically, but with a significance which fell upon Olive's ear.
Mr. Gracie seemed inclined to make the st.u.r.diest protest. ”Look here, Miss Tarrant; do you want to save Harvard College, or do you not?” he demanded, with a humorous frown.
”I didn't know _you_ were Harvard College!” Verena returned as humorously.
”I am afraid you are rather disappointed in your evening if you expected to obtain some insight into our ideas,” said Mrs. Tarrant, with an air of impotent sympathy, to Mr. Gracie.