Part 26 (1/2)
”There is no need of his being in the city at all,” Mildred protested. ”I've no patience with his leaving those who need him so much. I think of them, and am sure they feel badly about it, and likely enough are blaming me, when, if I had my way, he'd live and die in sight of his own chimney smoke.”
”Millie, you are unreasonable,” retorted Belle. ”Why hasn't Roger Atwood as good a right to seek his fortune out in the world as other young men? Papa didn't stay on the old plantation, although they all wanted him to. What's more, he has as good a right to like you as you have to dislike him. I may as well say it as think it.”
It was difficult to refute Belle's hard common-sense, and her sister could only protest, ”Well, he has no right to be stealthily watching me, nor to persecute me with unwelcome attentions.”
”Leave it all to me, Millie,” said her mother gently. ”I will manage it so that Belle can have his society occasionally, and we show our goodwill toward those who have been kind to us. At the same time I think I can s.h.i.+eld you from anything disagreeable. He is pretty quick to take a hint; and you can soon show him by your manner that you wish him well, and that is all. He'll soon get over his half-boyish preference, or at least learn to hide it. You give to his feelings more importance than they deserve.”
”I suppose I do,” Mildred replied musingly, ”but he makes upon me the queer impression that he will never leave me alone--that I can never wholly shake him off, and that he will appear like a ghost when I least expect it.”
Belle smiled significantly. ”There, you might as well speak plainly as look in that way,” Mildred concluded irritably. ”I foresee how it will be, but must submit and endure as best I can, I suppose.”
Belle's antic.i.p.ation proved correct, for just as they were nearly ready to start for the chapel Eoger appeared, and was a little awkward from diffidence and doubt as to his reception. Mrs. Jocelyn's kindness and Belle's warm greeting somewhat rea.s.sured him, and atoned for Mildred's rather constrained politeness. While answering the many and natural questions about those whom he had left in Forestville, he regained his self-possession and was able to hold his own against Belle's sallies. ”You have come to the city to stay?” she asked, point-blank.
”Yes,” he said briefly, and that was the only reference he made to himself.
She soon began vivaciously, ”You must go with us to church and Sunday-school. Here you are, an innocent and unprotected youth in this great wicked city, and we must get you under good influence at once.”
”That is my wish,” he replied, looking her laughingly in the face, ”and that is why I came to see you. If you have a cla.s.s and will take me into it, I will accept all the theology you teach me.”
”Mr. Wentworth's hair would rise at the idea of my teaching theology or anything; but I'll look after you, and if you get any fast ways I'll make you sorry. No, I'm only a scholar. Millie has a cla.s.s of the worst boys in school, and if--” A warning glance here checked her.
”Well, then, can't I join your cla.s.s?”
”Oh, no, we are all girls, and you'll make us so bashful we wouldn't dare say anything.”
”I think Mr. Atwood had better go with us to the chapel, accepting the conditions on which we first attended,” suggested Mrs. Jocelyn.
”If he is pleased, as we were, he can then act accordingly.”
”Yes, come,” cried Belle, who had resumed at once her old companionable and mirthful relations with Roger. ”I'll go with you, so you won't feel strange or afraid. I want you to understand,” she continued, as they pa.s.sed down the quaint old hallway, ”that we belong to the aristocracy. Since this is the oldest house in town, we surely should be regarded as one of the old families.”
”By what magic were you able to make so inviting a home in such a place?” he asked.
”Oh, that's Millie's work,” she replied.
”I might have known that,” he said, and a sudden shadow crossed his face. Quickly as it pa.s.sed away, she saw it.
”Yes,” she resumed in a low, earnest tone--for she had no scruple in fanning the flame of his love which she more than half believed might yet be rewarded--”Millie is one of a million. She will be our main dependence, I fear. She is so strong and sensible.”
”Is--is not Mr. Jocelyn well?” he asked apprehensively.
”I fear he isn't well at all,” she answered with some despondency.
”He is sleeping now; he always rests Sunday afternoon, and we try to let him rest all he can. He sleeps, or rather dozes, a great deal, and seems losing his strength and energy,” and she spoke quite frankly concerning their plans, projects, and hopes. She believed in Roger, and knew him to be a sincere friend, and it was her nature to be very outspoken where she had confidence. ”If Millie can learn thoroughly what she is now studying,” she concluded, ”I think we can get along.”
”Yes,” said Roger, in low, sad emphasis, ”your sister is indeed one of a million, and my chance of winning one friendly thought from her also seems but one in a million. Belle, let us understand each other from the start. I have come to the city to stay, and I intend to succeed. I have an uncle in town who has given me a chance, and he'll do more for me, I think. He's peculiar, but he's shrewd and sensible, and when he is convinced that I intend to carry out certain plans he will aid me. He is watching me now, and thinks I am here only from a restless impulse to see the world; by and by he will know better. He has the obstinate Atwood blood, and if he takes a notion to give me a chance to get a first-cla.s.s education, he will see me through. I'm going to have one anyway, but of course I'd rather be able to get it in five or six years than in eight or ten years, as would be the case if I had to work my own way. I am now employed in his commission store down town, but I am studying every spare moment I can get, and he knows it, only he thinks it won't last. But it will, and I shall at least try to be one of the first lawyers in this city. What's more, I shall work as few young men are willing to work or can work, for I am strong, and--well, I have motives for work that are not usual, perhaps. You see I am frank with you as you have been with me. You often talk like a gay child, but I understand you well enough to know that you are a whole-souled little woman, and thoroughly worthy of trust; and I have told you more about myself and present plans than any one else. Clara Bute informed me all about your courage at the store, and I felt proud that I knew you, and don't intend that you shall ever be ashamed of me. You may tell your mother all this if you please, because I wish her to know just what kind of a young fellow I am, and what are my connections and prospects. I would much like to come and see you and go out with you now and then; and if you and your--well, your family should ever need any service that it was in my power to render, I should like you all to feel that I am not altogether unfit to give it, or to be your a.s.sociate.”
”You needn't talk that way,” said Belle; ”you are up in the world compared with us.”
”I mean every word I say. I respect your mother as I do my own, for I have seen her beautiful life and beautiful face for weeks and months. I never expect to see a more perfect and genuine lady. I am not well versed in society's ways, but I a.s.sure you I would make every effort in my power to act as she would think a young man ought to act. I'd rather fight a dragon than displease her.”
Tears of gratified feeling were in Belle's eyes, but she said brusquely, ”Not versed in society's ways! Account, then, for that fas.h.i.+onable suit of clothes you are wearing.”