Tempest and Sunshine Part 11

Kate could not reply, but from that time she felt for Mr. Middleton a respect and esteem which nothing could ever change.

After Mr. Middleton had become calm, he proceeded to enumerate to Mr.

Miller the many good qualities of Mr. Wilmot. Said he, "He was a capital feller; allus just so. Lively as a cricket; none of your stuck-up, fiddle-faddle notions. And then he was such a good boarder-not a bit particular what he eat; why, he was the greatest kind of a man-eat corn bread, turnip greens, or anything!"

At this speech Kate smiled in spite of her tears, and Mr. Middleton went on: "But he warn't as handsome as his sister, and I'll be skinned if I ever seen anybody that was. Tempest can't hold a candle to her, for all she feels so crank. Why, Kit, or Kate, what's yer name? You're as handsome as a pictur!"

Mr. Miller probably thought so too, if the admiring look which he gave her was any criterion. Mr. Middleton observed it, and forgetting for a moment the death of his friend, he slapped Mr. Miller on his shoulder, saying, "I tell you what, my boy; it's a mighty mean wind that blows n.o.body any good fortin. Miss Kate warn't sent to Kentuck for nothin', and unless you're a bigger logger-head than I think you be, you'll try to find out what she come for, and how long she's goin' to stay."

Mr. Miller smiled and said, "I hope we shall be able to keep Miss Wilmot all winter, for the people of Frankfort are wanting a music teacher, and have solicited her to remain in that capacity."

"By Jove," said Mr. Middleton, "that's just the thing! And you have taken d.i.c.k's place in school-poor, boy, to die so soon!" The tears were again moistening his immense beard, but this time he hastily brushed them away, and went on, "Yes, that's a capital idee, and you want me to patternize you by sending my two gals-hey? Well, I reckon I can't do better, if they want to go. Ho! Tempest-Suns.h.i.+ne-what d'ye say? D'ye want to go back to Frankfort and board at Miss Crane's, 'long of Mr. Miller, Dr. Lacey, Katy did, and that other infernal Katy didn't, what fainted spang away at the sight of old Jos.h.!.+ But though she was so dreadfully skeered, the pooty color didn't leave her cheeks an atom. Lightnin' spikes! Let me catch my gals paintin' and I'll-"

But he was prevented from telling what he'd do by f.a.n.n.y, who clapped her hands and said, "Oh, father, you are a dear good man; may we really go?"

"I thought f.a.n.n.y would be pleased with the idea," said Mr. Miller, "and even if she had objected, I was going to send the doctor out, and I know he would bring her to terms."

f.a.n.n.y blushed and her father said, "Do you think so? Well, I'm glad on't.

I'd as soon she'd have him as anybody, and she's worthy of him too, for if she can love such a hideous old clown as I am, she'll stick to such a nice man as Dr. Lacey through thick and thin. But what do you say to goin', Tempest?"

Julia had at first thought that nothing could induce her to become a pupil of Mr. Miller, but his allusion to Dr. Lacey decided her otherwise. It was necessary that she should go, for she did not dare trust her sister alone with the doctor; so she swallowed her dislike to Mr. Miller, and said she should be delighted to return to school.

It was settled that they should go during the next week.

This arrangement gave great pleasure to Dr. Lacey, who found it very lonely in Frankfort without f.a.n.n.y, and had several times spoken of returning to New Orleans. But when he learned that f.a.n.n.y was coming back, he suddenly changed his mind and concluded that Frankfort would be a charming winter residence. This was laughingly told to f.a.n.n.y by Kate, who had learned to love her very much. Julia she disliked, for she had at last drawn from Mr. Miller the whole history of her proceedings, and she could but look upon the false-hearted girl as accessory to her brother's death.

Julia knew that by the fair Northern beauty she was secretly despised, but she did not care, for she had conceived a great friends.h.i.+p for Mrs.

Carrington, whom she often amused with her remarks about New York people.

Once she said, "I do wish New York would die, or stop taking emetics, and sending the contents of her bilious stomach to Kentucky in the shape of teachers!"

Mrs. Carrington smiled and said, "I think you prefer Louisiana emetics, do you not?"

Julia blushed as she answered, "Yes, but what can I do. There's Mr. Miller ready to back up whatever f.a.n.n.y does, and put down whatever I do. I'd thank him to mind his own business, and stay at his own home!"

Mrs. Carrington did not reply, for she, too, was greatly annoyed by the presence of Mr. Miller and Kate. The latter she looked upon as a rival, for she was said by every one to have the most beautiful face in Frankfort. This greatly displeased Mrs. Carrington, who, before Kate's arrival, had been considered the belle of the town, so far as beauty was concerned. She also felt great contempt for Kate's occupation as a teacher, and said, "She didn't see why folks should make such an ado over a poor music teacher."

Once, in speaking on the subject to Dr. Lacey, she said, "I am glad I was not born in New York, for then I should have been obliged to pick up chips, split wood, dig potatoes, wash dishes and teach school!"

Dr. Lacey's reply to this remark was, "I think, Mrs. Carrington, you will admit that the young ladies who come here from the North almost always possess superior education. Now if they spent much time in splitting wood and digging potatoes, I am sure they could not acquire so much knowledge."

Mrs. Carrington answered, "Of course you feel interested in New Yorkers, for f.a.n.n.y has taken a great fancy to them, and whatever she likes you must like, of course."

"Yes, I know f.a.n.n.y likes our New York friends very much," said Dr. Lacey.

"And I think you will allow that she shows good taste in the choice of her a.s.sociates."

"Oh, yes, admirable," returned Mrs. Carrington, "almost as good taste as some of my acquaintance show in preferring her."

"What do you mean?" asked Dr. Lacey.

"Why, I mean," said Mrs. Carrington, "that I am puzzled to know what attraction such a simple-minded girl as f.a.n.n.y can have for a person of your intelligence."

Dr. Lacey bit his lip, but forcing down his anger said, "She possesses the same attraction which every guileless, innocent person has."

"Guileless and innocent," repeated Mrs. Carrington; "rather call her artful and designing. Depend upon it, doctor, you have only seen the bright side of her disposition. You should see her in her room, and know how much trouble her sister has with her!"

She might have said more, but Dr. Lacey stopped her by saying rather warmly, "Mrs. Carrington, you shall not talk so about f.a.n.n.y. I know you do not like her, and consequently, whatever you can say of her will have no effect upon me."

So saying, he quitted the apartment, leaving Mrs. Carrington to her own reflections. They were not very pleasant, for Dr. Lacey's manner had said as plainly as words could say that she had better mind her own business, and she began to think so herself, for she muttered, "After all, what is it to me if he does like f.a.n.n.y? I am bound fast, but oh, if I were free, I'd compa.s.s heaven and earth to secure him." Her wish to be free was soon realized.

That afternoon, when the Sea Gull came up from Louisville, it brought home her husband, wearied, worn out and sick. He took his bed, and never left his room again until strong men carried him out and laid him down to sleep in the silent graveyard. The close of his life was calm and peaceful, for he had early chosen the better part, and he looked upon the grave as but a stepping stone from earth to heaven.

His life was a dreary pilgrimage, for though he possessed for his young, giddy wife, a strong, ardent affection, he had long known that it was not returned, and he felt that she would be happier if he were dead. She, however, paid him as much attention during his illness as the gay life she led would allow; but she was often away, and night after night was he left alone with his Bible and his G.o.d, while she was in the midst of some fas.h.i.+onable amus.e.m.e.nt. Her neglect was, however, partly made up to him by the kind care of f.a.n.n.y, who gave him all the time she could possibly spare from her school duties. Mrs. Carrington found it very convenient to call upon her, whenever she wished to be absent, and hour after hour the fair young girl sat by the sick man's bedside, employed either with her needle, her books or drawing. Mr. Carrington was a fine scholar and gave her much a.s.sistance in her studies.

When he grew too weak to read, she would read to him from the Bible, stopping occasionally, while he explained some obscure pa.s.sage, or endeavored to impress on her mind some solemn truth. Thus were the seeds of righteousness sown, which afterward sprang up and bore fruit unto everlasting life.

At last the chilling dews came upon his head, his eye grew dim with the mists of death, and then he laid his cold, white hand on f.a.n.n.y's head and prayed most earnestly that heaven's choicest blessings, both here and hereafter, might descend upon one who had so kindly smoothed his dark pathway down to the valley of death. A few words of affectionate farewell to his wife and he was gone. His crushed, aching heart had ceased to beat and in a few days the green sod was growing above his early grave.

f.a.n.n.y begged so earnestly to have him buried by the side of Mr. Wilmot that Mrs. Carrington finally consented, and the two, who had never seen each other on earth, now lay peacefully side by side. When the springtime came, the same fair hands planted flowers over the graves of her brothers, as she loved to call the two men, each of whom had blessed her with his dying breath. Thither would she often go with Dr. Lacey, who was each day learning to love her more and more.

Mrs. Carrington contented herself with having a few hysterical fits, shedding a few tears, dressing herself in an expensive suit of mourning, and erecting to the memory of her husband a magnificent monument. When Mr.

Middleton saw the latter, he said, "Why the plague can't d.i.c.k have as good a gravestun as that young lieutenant? He desarves it jest as much"; so out came his purse, and when Mrs. Carrington went next to visit the costly marble at her husband's grave, she was chagrined to see by its side a still more splendid one. But there was no help for it, so she had to endure it in silence, consoling herself with thinking how becomingly she would dress and how many conquests she would make, when the term of her mourning should have expired!

CHAPTER VII

JULIA'S PLOT TO BREAK f.a.n.n.y'S ENGAGEMENT

Our readers will not be sorry, if after a chapter of sadness and death, we turn to a more joyous one, and tell them of the bridal of Kate Wilmot and Mr. Miller. Kate wished to defer it a few months, on account of the recent death of her brother, but her lover urged his claim so strongly that she at last yielded, and their marriage took place on Christmas eve. Mr. W--, one of the wealthiest men in Frankfort, very kindly offered to give Kate a splendid wedding party, but she politely declined his generous offer, as she did not feel like entering into such a scene of gayety as would necessarily attend a large party.

A few of her most intimate friends a.s.sembled in Mrs. Crane's parlor, and thence proceeded to the church, which was crowded with anxious spectators, many of whom almost envied Mr. Miller his beautiful bride, while others envied her the fine-looking man who stood there as the bridegroom, and all were unanimous in p.r.o.nouncing it an excellent match. Kate's happiness on this occasion was not unmingled with sadness, for her thoughts went back to the time when, with a heart bursting with anguish, she had first entered that church and pa.s.sed up its broad aisle until she reached the side of her darling brother, who lay shrouded in his coffin.

Now the scene was changed; she was there as the happy bride of one to whom she had given the undivided affection of her heart, and as the solemn words were uttered which made her his forever, she felt that her brother's spirit hovered near, to bless her union with one who had ever been his true friend. So she requested that f.a.n.n.y should be her bridesmaid, and the young girl now stood at the altar, with her bright face beaming with happiness, for Dr. Lacey, who was by her side, had, the night before, told her all his love, and had won from her a promise that at some future time she would be his. He told her that he would speak to her father the next evening.

Accordingly, after the wedding party had returned to Mrs. Crane's, he invited Mr. Middleton to go with him for a few minutes to his room. f.a.n.n.y was sure of her father's consent, but she could not help feeling nervous when she saw him leave the parlor, accompanied by Dr. Lacey. A few moments after, she observed that Julia also was missing, and she trembled lest she might have suspected something and gone to listen.

Nor was she mistaken in her fears; for Mrs. Carrington and Julia both had an inkling of what was going on, and when the latter heard Dr. Lacey say something to her father in a low tone, and then saw them leave the room together, she arose and stealthily followed them upstairs. Going out on the balcony, she stole softly up to Dr. Lacey's window, and there, un.o.bserved, listened to a conversation which confirmed her worst fears. In a firm, decided tone, Dr. Lacey told Mr. Middleton of his love for his daughter, and said she had promised to be his if her father would consent.

Mr. Middleton replied, "And so it's my darter you want. Of course it's Suns.h.i.+ne?"

"Certainly, sir," answered Dr. Lacey.

"Well, I'm glad on't. I've seen it all along; but I didn't know but mebby Tempest had come it over you with her pretty face-but devil of a life you'd lead with her."

Dr. Lacey did not reply, but Julia did; and though the tones of her voice were too low to be heard, they were none the less emphatic, as she said, "And devil of a life I'll make you lead if you do not have me." And at the same time she ground her glittering teeth and shook her clenched fist at the two men, who were unconscious of the rage they were exciting.