Books: Heart Histories and Life Pictures
T >>
T. S. Arthur >> Heart Histories and Life Pictures
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 | 15 |
16
"That was a mere girlish pledge," ventured Mary, with drooping eyes.
"But one that the woman will redeem," said Edwards confidently,
raising the hand to his lips at the same time, and kissing it.
Mary leaned involuntarily towards him; and he, perceiving the
movement, drew his arm around her, and pressed his lips to her
cheek.
It was no very long time afterwards before the pledge was redeemed.
DON'T MENTION IT.
"DON'T mention it again for your life."
"No, of course not. The least said about such things the better."
"Don't for the world. I have told you in perfect confidence, and you
are the only one to whom I have breathed it. I wouldn't have it get
out for any consideration."
"Give yourself no uneasiness. I shall not allude to the subject."
"I merely told you because I knew you were a friend, and would let
it go no farther. But would you have thought it?"
"I certainly am very much surprised."
"So am I. But when things pass right before your eyes and ears,
there is no gainsaying them."
"No. Seeing is said to be believing."
"Of course it is."
"But, Mrs. Grimes, are you very sure that you heard aright?"
"I am positive, Mrs. Raynor. It occurred only an hour ago, and the
whole thing is distinctly remembered. I called in to see Mrs.
Comegys, and while I was there, the bundle of goods came home. I was
present when she opened it, and she showed me the lawn dress it
contained. There were twelve yards in it. 'I must see if there is
good measure,' she said, and she got a yard-stick and measured it
off. There were fifteen yards instead of twelve. 'How is this?' she
remarked. 'I am sure I paid for only twelve yards, and here are
fifteen.' The yard-stick was applied again. There was no mistake;
the lawn measured fifteen yards. 'What are you going to do with the
surplus?' I asked. 'Keep it, of course,' said Mrs. Comegys. 'There
is just enough to make little Julia a frock. Won't she look sweet in
it?,' I was so confounded that I couldn't say a word. Indeed, I
could hardly look her in the face. At first I thought of calling her
attention to the dishonesty of the act; but then I reflected that,
as it was none of my business, I might get her ill-will for meddling
in what didn't concern me."
"And you really think, then, that she meant to keep the three yards
without paying for them?
"Oh, certainly! But then I wouldn't say anything about it for the
world. I wouldn't name it, on any consideration. Of course you will
not repeat it."
"No. If I cannot find any good to tell of my friends, I try to
refrain from saying anything evil."
"A most excellent rule, Mrs. Raynor, and one that I always follow. I
never speak evil of my friends, for it always does more harm than
good. No one can say that I ever tried to injure another."
"I hope Mrs. Comegys thought better of the matter, upon reflection,"
said Mrs. Raynor.
"So do I. But I am afraid not. Two or three little things occur to
me now, that I have seen in my intercourse with her, which go to
satisfy my mind that her moral perceptions are not the best in the
world. Mrs. Comegys is a pleasant friend, and much esteemed by every
one. It could do no good to spread this matter abroad, but harm."
After repeating over and over again her injunction to Mrs. Raynor
not to repeat a word of what she had told her, Mrs. Grimes bade this
lady, upon whom she had called, good morning, and went on her way.
Ten minutes after, she was in the parlor of an acquaintance, named
Mrs. Florence, entertaining her with the gossip she had picked up
since their last meeting. She had not been there long, before,
lowering her voice, she said in a confidential way--
"I was at Mrs. Comegys' to-day, and saw something that amazed me
beyond every thing."
"Indeed!"
"Yes. You will be astonished when you hear it. Suppose you had
purchased a dress and paid for a certain number of yards; and when
the dress was sent home, you should find that the storekeeper had
made a mistake and sent you three or four yards more than you had
settled for. What would you do?"
"Send it back, of course."
"Of course, so say I. To act differently would not be honest. Do you
think so?"
"It would not be honest for me."
"No, nor for any one. Now, would you have believed it? Mrs. Comegys
not only thinks but acts differently."
"You must be mistaken, certainly, Mrs. Grimes."
"Seeing is believing, Mrs. Florence."
"So it is said, but I could hardly believe my eyes against Mrs.
Comegys' integrity of character. I think I ought to know her well,
for we have been very intimate for years."
"And I thought I knew her, too. But it seems that I was mistaken."
Mrs. Grimes then repeated the story of the lawn dress.
"Gracious me! Can it be possible?" exclaimed Mrs. Florence. "I can
hardly credit it."
"It occurred just as I tell you. But Mrs. Florence, you musn't tell
it again for the world. I have mentioned it to you in the strictest
confidence. But I need hardly say this to you, for I know how
discreet you are."
"I shall not mention it."
"It could do no good."
"None in the world."
"Isn't it surprising, that a woman who is so well off in the world
as Mrs. Comegys, should stoop to a petty act like this?"
"It is, certainly."
"Perhaps there is something wrong here," and Mrs. Grimes placed her
finger to her forehead and looked sober.
"How do you mean?" asked the friend.
"You've heard of people's having a dishonest monomania. Don't you
remember the case of Mrs. Y----?"
"Very well."
"She had every thing that heart could desire. Her husband was rich,
and let her have as much money as she wanted. I wish we could all
say that, Mrs. Florence, don't you?"
"It would be very pleasant, certainly, to have as much money as we
wanted."
"But, notwithstanding all this, Mrs. Y---- had such a propensity to
take things not her own, that she never went into a dry goods store
without purloining something, and rarely took tea with a friend
without slipping a teaspoon into her pocket. Mr. Y---- had a great
deal of trouble with her, and, in several cases, paid handsomely to
induce parties disposed to prosecute her for theft, to let the
matter drop. Now do you know that it has occurred to me that,
perhaps, Mrs. Comegys is afflicted in this way? I shouldn't at all
wonder if it were so."
"Hardly."
"I'm afraid it is as I suspect. A number of suspicious circumstances
have happened when she has been about, that this would explain. But
for your life, Mrs. Florence, don't repeat this to any mortal!"
"I shall certainly not speak of it, Mrs. Grimes. It is too serious a
matter. I wish I had not heard of it, for I can never feel toward
Mrs. Comegys as I have done. She is a very pleasant woman, and one
with whom it is always agreeable and profitable to spend an hour."
"It is a little matter, after all," remarked Mrs. Grimes, "and,
perhaps, we treat it too seriously."
"We should never think lightly of dishonest practices, Mrs. Grimes.
"Whoever is dishonest in little things, will be dishonest in great
things, if a good opportunity offer. Mrs. Comegys can never be to me
what she has been. That is impossible."
"Of course you will not speak of it again."
"You need have no fear of that."
A few days after, Mrs. Raynor made a call upon a friend, who said to
her,
"Have you heard about Mrs. Comegys?"
"What about her?"
"I supposed you knew it. _I've_ heard it from half a dozen persons.
It is said that Perkins, through a mistake of one of his clerks,
sent her home some fifteen or twenty yards of lawn more than she had
paid for, and that, instead of sending it back, she kept it and made
it up for her children. Did you ever hear of such a trick for an
honest woman?"
"I don't think any honest woman would be guilty of such an act. Yes,
I heard of it a few days ago as a great secret, and have not
mentioned it to a living soul."
"Secret? bless me! it is no secret. It is in every one's mouth."
"Is it possible? I must say that Mrs. Grimes has been very
indiscreet."
"Mrs. Grimes! Did it come from her in the first place?"
"Yes. She told me that she was present when the lawn came home, and
saw Mrs. Comegys measure it, and heard her say that she meant to
keep it."
"Which she has done. For I saw her in the street, yesterday, with a
beautiful new lawn, and her little Julia was with her, wearing one
precisely like it."
"How any woman can do so is more than I can understand."
"So it is, Mrs. Raynor. Just to think of dressing your child up in a
frock as good as stolen! Isn't it dreadful?"
"It is, indeed!"
"Mrs. Comegys is not an honest woman. That is clear. I am told that
this is not the first trick of the kind of which she has been
guilty. They say that she has a natural propensity to take things
that are not her own."
"I can hardly believe that."
"Nor can I. But it's no harder to believe this than to believe that
she would cheat Perkins out of fifteen of twenty yards of lawn. It's
a pity; for Mrs. Comegys, in every thing else, is certainly a very
nice woman. In fact, I don't know any one I visit with so much
pleasure."
Thus the circle of detraction widened, until there was scarcely a
friend or acquaintance of Mrs. Comegys, near or remote, who had not
heard of her having cheated a dry goods dealer out of several yards
of lawn. Three, it had first been alleged; but the most common
version of the story made it fifteen or twenty. Meantime, Mrs.
Comegys remained in entire ignorance of what was alleged against
her, although she noticed in two or three of her acquaintances, a
trifling coldness that struck her as rather singular.
One day her husband, seeing that she looked quite sober, said--
"You seem quite dull to-day, dear. Don't you feel well?"
"Yes, I feel as well as usual, in body."
"But not in mind?"
"I do not feel quite comfortable in mind, certainly, though I don't
know that I have any serious cause of uneasiness."
"Though a slight cause exists. May I ask what it is?"
"It is nothing more nor less than that I was coolly _cut_ by an old
friend to-day, whom I met in a store on Chesnut street. And as she
is a woman that I highly esteem, both for the excellence of her
character, and the agreeable qualities, as a friend, that she
possesses. I cannot but feel a little bad about it. If she were one
of that capricious class who get offended with you, once a month,
for no just cause whatever, I should not care a fig. But Mrs. Markle
is a woman of character, good sense and good feeling, whose
friendship I have always prized."
"Was it Mrs. Markle?" said the husband, with some surprise.
"Yes."
"What can possibly be the cause?"
"I cannot tell."
"Have you thought over every thing?"
"Yes, I have turned and turned the matter in my mind, but can
imagine no reason why she, of all others, could treat me coolly."
"Have you never spoken of her in a way to have your words
misinterpreted by some evil-minded person--Mrs. Grimes, for
instance--whose memory, or moral sense, one or the other, is very
dull?"
"I have never spoken of her to any one, except in terms of praise. I
could not do otherwise, for I look upon her as one of the most
faultless women I know."
"She has at least shown that she possesses one fault."
"What is that?"
"If she has heard any thing against you of a character so serious as
to make her wish to give up your acquaintance, she should at least
have afforded you the chance of defending yourself before condemning
you."
"I think that, myself."
"It may be that she did not see you," Mr. Comegys suggested.
"She looked me in the face, and nodded with cold formality."
"Perhaps her mind was abstracted."
"It might have been so. Mine would have been very abstracted,
indeed, to keep me from a more cordial recognition of a friend."
"How would it do to call and see her?"
"I have been thinking of that. But my feelings naturally oppose it.
I am not conscious of having done any thing to merit a withdrawal of
the friendly sentiments she has held towards me; still, if she
wishes to withdraw them, my pride says, let her do so."
"But pride, you know, is not always the best adviser."
"No. Perhaps the less regard we pay to its promptings, the better."
"I think so."
"It is rather awkward to go to a person and ask why you have been
treated coldly."
"I know it is. But in a choice of evils, is it not always wisest to
choose the least?"
"But is any one's bad opinion of you, if it be not correctly formed,
an evil?"
"Certainly it is."
"I don't know. I have a kind of independence about me which says,
'Let people think what they please, so you are conscious of no
wrong.'"
"Indifference to the world's good or bad opinion is all very well,"
replied the husband, "if the world will misjudge us. Still, as any
thing that prejudices the minds of people against us, tends to
destroy our usefulness, it is our duty to take all proper care of
our reputations, even to the sacrifice of a little feeling in doing
so."
Thus argued with by her husband, Mrs. Comegys, after turning the
matter over in her mind, finally concluded to go and see Mrs.
Markle. It was a pretty hard trial for her, but urged on by a sense
of right, she called upon her two or three days after having been
treated so coldly. She sent up her name by the servant. In about
five minutes, Mrs. Markle descended to the parlor, where her visitor
was awaiting her, and met her in a reserved and formal manner, that
was altogether unlike her former cordiality. It was as much as Mrs.
Comegys could do to keep from retiring instantly, and without a
word, from the house. But she compelled herself to go through with
what she had begun.
Mrs. Markle did, indeed, offer her hand; or rather the tips of her
fingers; which Mrs. Comegys, in mere reciprocation of the formality,
accepted. Then came an embarrassing pause, after which the latter
said--
"I see that I was not mistaken in supposing that there was a marked
coldness in your manner at our last meeting."
Mrs. Markle inclined her head slightly.
"Of course there is a cause for this. May I, in justice to myself as
well as others, inquire what it is?"
"I did not suppose you would press an inquiry on the subject,"
replied Mrs. Markle. "But as you have done so, you are, of course,
entitled to an answer."
There came another pause, after which, with a disturbed voice, Mrs.
Markle said--
"For some time, I have heard a rumor in regard to you, that I could
not credit. Of late it has been so often repeated that I felt it to
be my duty to ascertain its truth or falsehood. On tracing, with
some labor, the report to its origin, I am grieved to find that it
is too true."
"Please say what it is," said Mrs. Comegys, in a firm voice.
"It is said that you bought a dress at a dry goods store in this
city, and that on its being sent home, there proved to be some yards
more in the piece of goods than you paid for and that instead of
returning what was not your own, you kept it and had it made up for
one of your children."
The face of Mrs. Comegys instantly became like crimson; and she
turned her head away to hide the confusion into which this
unexpected allegation had thrown her. As soon as she could command
her voice, she said--
"You will, of course, give me the author of this charge."
"You are entitled to know, I suppose," replied Mrs. Markle. "The
person who originated this report is Mrs. Grimes. And she says that
she was present when the dress was sent home. That you measured it
in her presence, and that, finding there were several yards over,
you declared your intention to keep it and make of it a frock for
your little girl. And, moreover, that she saw Julia wearing a frock
afterwards, exactly like the pattern of the one you had, which she
well remembers. This seems to me pretty conclusive evidence. At
least it was so to my mind, and I acted accordingly."
Mrs. Comegys sat for the full space of a minute with her eyes upon
the floor, without speaking. When she looked up, the flush that had
covered her face had gone. It was very pale, instead. Rising from
her chair, she bowed formally, and without saying a word, withdrew.
"Ah me! Isn't it sad?" murmured Mrs. Markle, as she heard the street
door close upon her visitor. "So much that is agreeable and
excellent, all dimmed by the want of principle. It seems hardly
credible that a woman, with every thing she needs, could act
dishonestly for so small a matter. A few yards of lawn against
integrity and character! What a price to set upon virtue!"
Not more than half an hour after the departure of Mrs. Comegys, Mrs.
Grimes called in to see Mrs. Markle.
"I hope," she said, shortly after she was seated, "that you won't
say a word about what I told you a few days ago; I shouldn't have
opened my lips on the subject if you hadn't asked me about it. I
only mentioned it in the first place to a friend in whom I had the
greatest confidence in the world. She has told some one, very
improperly, for it was imparted to her as a secret, and in that way
it has been spread abroad. I regret it exceedingly, for I would be
the last person in the world to say a word to injure any one. I am
particularly guarded in this."
"If it's the truth, Mrs. Grimes, I don't see that you need be so
anxious about keeping it a secret," returned Mrs. Markle.
"The truth! Do you think I would utter a word that was not true?"
"I did not mean to infer that you would. I believe that what you
said in regard to Mrs. Comegys was the fact."
"It certainly was. But then, it will do no good to make a
disturbance about it. What has made me call in to see you is this;
some one told me that, in consequence of this matter, you had
dropped the acquaintance of Mrs. Comegys."
"It is true; I cannot associate on intimate terms with a woman who
lacks honest principles."
"But don't you see that this will bring matters to a head, and that
I shall be placed in a very awkward position?"
"You are ready to adhere to your statement in regard to Mrs.
Comegys?"
"Oh, certainly; I have told nothing but the truth. But still, you
can see that it will make me feel exceedingly unpleasant."
"Things of this kind are never very agreeable, I know, Mrs. Grimes.
Still we must act as we think right, let what will follow. Mrs.
Comegys has already called upon me to ask an explanation of my
conduct wards her."
"She has!" Mrs. Grimes seemed sadly distressed. "What did you say to
her?"
"I told her just what I had heard."
"Did she ask your author?" Mrs. Grimes was most pale with suspense.
"She did."
"Of course you did not mention my name."
"She asked the author of the charge, and I named you."
"Oh dear, Mrs. Markle! I wish you hadn't done that. I shall be
involved in a world of trouble, and the reputation of a tattler and
mischief-maker. What did she say?"
"Not one word."
"She didn't deny it?"
"No."
"Of course she could not. Well, that is some satisfaction at least.
She might have denied it, and tried make me out a liar, and there
would have been plenty to believe her word against mine. I am glad
she didn't deny it. She didn't say a word?"
"No."
"Did she look guilty?"
"You would have thought so, if you had seen her."
"What did she do?"
"She sat with her eyes upon the floor for some time, and then rose
up, and without uttering a word, left the house."
"I wish she had said something. It would have been a satisfaction to
know what she thought. But I suppose the poor woman was so
confounded, that she didn't know what to say."
"So it appeared to me. She was completely stunned. I really pitied
her from my heart. But want of principle should never be
countenanced. If we are to have social integrity, we must mark with
appropriate condemnation all deviations therefrom. It was
exceedingly painful, but the path of duty was before me, and I
walked in it without faltering."
Mrs. Grimes was neither so clear-sighted, nor so well satisfied with
what she had done, as all this. She left the house of Mrs. Markle
feeling very unhappy. Although she had been using her little unruly
member against Mrs. Comegys with due industry, she was all the while
on the most friendly terms with her, visiting at her house and being
visited. It was only a few days, before that she had taken tea and
spent an evening with her. Not that Mrs. Grimes was deliberately
hypocritical, but she had a free tongue, and, like too many in
society, more cautious about what they said than she, much better
pleased to see evil than good in a neighbour. There are very few of
us, perhaps, who have not something of this fault--an exceedingly
bad fault, by the way. It seems to arise from a consciousness of our
own imperfections and the pleasure we feel in making the discovery
that others are as bad, if not worse than we are.
Two days after Mrs. Comegys had called on Mrs. Markle to ask for
explanations, the latter received a note in the following words:
"MADAM.--I have no doubt you have acted according to your own views
of right in dropping as suddenly as you have done, the acquaintance
of an old friend. Perhaps, if you had called upon me and asked
explanations, you might have acted a little differently. My present
object in addressing you is to ask, as a matter of justice, that you
will call at my house to-morrow at twelve o'clock. I think that I am
entitled to speak a word in my own defense. After you have heard
that I shall not complain of any course you may think it right to
pursue.
"ANNA COMEGYS."
Mrs. Markle, could do no less than call as she had been desired to.
At twelve o'clock she rang the bell at Mrs. Comegys' door, and was
shown into the parlor, where, to her no small surprise, she found
about twenty ladies, most of them acquaintances, assembled, Mrs.
Grimes among the number. In about ten minutes Mrs. Comegys came into
the room, her countenance wearing a calm but sober aspect. She bowed
slightly, but was not cordial toward, or familiar with, any one
present. Without a pause she said--
"Ladies, I have learned within a few days, very greatly to my
surprise and grief, that there is a report circulated among my
friends, injurious to my character as a woman of honest principles.
I have taken some pains to ascertain those with whom the report is
familiar, and have invited all such to be here to-day. I learn from
several sources, that the report originated with Mrs. Grimes, and
that she has been very industrious in circulating it to my injury."
"Perhaps you wrong Mrs. Grimes there," spoke up Mrs. Markle. "She
did not mention it to me until I inquired of her if the report was
true. And then she told me that she had never told it but to a
single person, in confidence, and that she had inadvertently alluded
to it, and thus it became a common report. So I think that Mrs.
Grimes cannot justly be charged with having sought to circulate the
matter to your injury."
"Very well, we will see how far that statement is correct," said
Mrs. Comegys. "Did she mention the subject to you, Mrs. Raynor?"
"She did," replied Mrs. Raynor. "But in strict confidence, and
enjoining it upon me not to mention it to any one, as she had no
wish to injure you."
"Did you tell it to any one?"
"No. It was but a little while afterward that it was told to me by
some one else."
"Was it mentioned to you, Mrs. Florence?" proceeded Mrs. Comegys,
turning to another of the ladies present.
"It was, ma'am."
"By Mrs. Grimes?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"In confidence, I suppose?"
"I was requested to say nothing about it, for fear that it might
create an unfavorable impression in regard to you."
"Very well; there are two already. How was it in your case, Mrs.
Wheeler?"
This lady answered as the others had done. The question was then put
to each lady in the room, when it appeared that out of the twenty,
fifteen had received their information on the subject from Mrs.
Grimes, and that upon every one secrecy had been enjoined, although
not in every case maintained.
"So it seems, Mrs. Markle," said Mrs. Comegys, after she had
finished her inquiries, "that Mrs. Grimes has, as I alleged,
industriously circulated this matter to my injury."
"It certainly appears so," returned Mrs. Markle, coldly.
Thus brought into a corner, Mrs. Grimes bristled up like certain
animals, which are good at running and skulking, but which, when
fairly trapped, fight desperately.
"Telling it to a thousand is not half as bad as doing it, Mrs.
Comegys," she said, angrily. "You needn't try to screen yourself
from the consequences of your wrong doings, by raising a hue and cry
against me. Go to the fact, madam! Go to the fact, and stand
alongside of what you have done."
"I have no hesitation about doing that, Mrs. Grimes. Pray, what have
I done?"
"It is very strange that you should ask, madam."
"But I am charged, I learn, with having committed a crime against
society; and you are the author of the charge. What is the crime?"
"If it is any satisfaction to you, I will tell you. I was at your
house when the pattern of the lawn dress you now have on was sent
home. You measured it in my presence, and there were several yards
in it more than you had bought and paid for"--
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 | 15 |
16