Individuality! There is nothing more vulgar. I hear Parry with the carriage; will you drive with me?
No; I shall answer Adrianas letter, and get the subject off my mind. It is so much easier to know what you dislike to do than to be sure of what you like. Where are you going?
To McCreerys. I want some lace.
Do buy the real article then. It is the chic thing now, to wear real lace, and it does look supreme, among the miles of imitation that are used.
Then Rose went to the library to answer Adrianas letter. It pleased her to think it an important decision, and she sat some time with the pen in her hand, and a judicial air on her beautiful countenance. For 11 she was undeniably a very attractive girl, as she sat in the sunshine that morning, deliberating on Adrianas deception; there being to a practiced observer many alluring contradictions in her face and manner. Her hair was the color of ripe wheat, her eyes almond-shaped, blue and limpid; her cheeks and chin dimpled; her mouth rosy and full; her figure supple; her feet small, finely dressed, and quite in view; her whole appearance that of a lovely innocent girl, on the threshold of life. But this exquisite seeming contained possibilities of evil, as well as good. Her dress was full of studied effects, her manners of attitudes and languors; and her charming way of dropping her blue eyes, and then suddenly flashing them open, was a conscious, and not a natural, grace. Even her sweet credulousness had in it an equal capacity for seductive wilfulness and petulance. Nor was she unconscious of this double nature within her; for she had often said to Adriana, I feel as if there were twenty different girls in me and the majority of them bad.
Social life, however, so far, had had a salutary effect on her. She had become more equable, more dependent on the approval of others, and less liable to unconventional self-assertions. Nothing, indeed, could have been better for Rose Filmer than the tight social rein of a set which conscientiously tried to be both religious and fashionable. She was compelled to honor les convenances, and to obey them; compelled to suppress her spontaneity which was seldom a pleasant one and to consider the feelings of others, as well as the wishes of her own heart. At college she had been remarkable for her self-willed personality; one season in society had taught her a decent self-restraint. 12 Consequently, she deliberated well the answer to her friends letter.
If I want to break with her, I have now an excellent excuse, she thought. I could tell her that, though I have a soul above noticing the accident of birth, my whole nature declares against deception. There are a dozen moralities in the position, and I could retire wounded and innocent, and leave her altogether in the wrong. But do I want to break with Yanna? Would it be to my advantage? I think not. The girls in our set do not like me. Julia Mills the other day called me a little hypocrite to my face. She did it with a laugh, but all the other girls laughed too, and it was not pleasant. Yanna believes in me. Then next summer we shall be at Woodsome, and mamma is right about the long, tiresome summer days. Yanna was born in the village; she knows every one, gentle and simple, and what is the use of neighbors if you cannot gossip about them?
Besides, she continued, I have now three lovers, and I have not one girl friend with whom I can talk them over all the girls in our set are so jealous of me and Yanna would like to see my love letters, I have no doubt. I wonder if she has a lover yet! I suppose not, poor girl! Then there will be fun in watching Harry. Whether he be utterly heartless, or, as mamma thinks, very impressionable, he cannot meet Yanna day after day without some consequences. I think, upon the whole, it will be best to keep friends with Yanna. And having come to this decision, she raised herself from the reflective attitude into which she had fallen, and going to a table wrote as follows:
My Beloved Yanna: Did you really think that your lowly birth could change my love for you? No, no! 13 Whether my Yanna be princess or pauper, is no matter to me. I only long for our new house to be finished, that I may have you more constantly near me. Then she hesitated. She was on the point of saying she had long known of Adrianas low birth; but she felt sure Adriana would ask her the how and when of her information; and there was absolutely no good to accrue from the falsity. But though she wrote eight pages of gushing affection, she was not satisfied; she had not been able to choose her words with precision, and far less able to prevent an aura of patronage which Adriana was as quick to feel as a barometer to answer the atmospheric changes.
I will not take any patronage from Rose Filmer, she muttered; and then she flung Roses letter into the fire; I want nothing from her. Oh! I must answer this letter at once; I could not eat my dinner if I were so much in debt to my self-respect. So Adriana laid away her sewing, and wrote:
Dear Rose: Thank you for your overflowing letter. It is very kind of you to overlook what you call the accident of my birth. But I cannot let you entertain the idea that I think it an accident. On the contrary, I regard my birth as the well-considered ordination of Almighty God. I was not an accident to my good father and mother. I was placed in their care, because the All-Wise considered the Van Hoosen home the best possible place for my highest development. I think it is time people stopped talking about the accident of birth; and I am sure, as soon as you regard birth in its proper light, you will do so. Your love for me has led you likewise into a very stupid assertion about loving Yanna the same whether she was princess 14 or pauper. My dear, there is no question of either. I am as far removed from pauperism as we both are from royalty. Our mutual liking has stood a number of little shocks, and I have no fear it will go to pieces on my fathers trade. He is building you a handsome house in the most honorable manner. He was pleased to have the contract to do so, and Mr. Filmer was equally pleased to secure his work. That is the position, as I understand it. Suppose we say no more on the subject; it will be so much nicer to write about your balls, and fairs, and parties. From what you say, I think charity must be the gayest of all the virtues; certainly it cuts the most considerable figure of any during the New York season. I am sure you enjoyed the private theatricals; for we all like occasionally to play a part not our own. And so you are going to the seaside this summer? Will you bathe? That is one of the things vanity would forbid me to do, except in private. It is true, Venus rose beautiful from the sea; but no mere mortal woman can do so. Do you not think, that for a distinctly levelling process, sea bathing is supreme? Life is very even and quiet here; when Woodsome Hall is finished, we all hope it will make a difference. Is it to be Woodsome or Filmer Hall? Mr. Filmer had not decided when he was here last. Dear Rose, do not let us have any more misunderstandings, and send me a real nice letter soon.
Yours lovingly,Adriana Van Hoosen.This letter did not please Rose any better than her own effusion had pleased Adriana; and for a little while there was a coolness between the girls. They wrote to each other with accustomed regularity, but 15 their letters were set to a wrong key, Adrianas being specially independent in tone, as if her self-esteem was perpetually on the defensive. But life is not an exact science, something is always happening to change its circumstances, and feelings change with them. The following spring the new Filmer house was finished and ready for occupancy; and the village newspaper was busily blowing little fanfaronades of congratulation to Woodsome; and of welcome to the coming Filmers; and by that time Adriana and Rose were also eager to see each other again.
I wonder if I ought to call on Rose, said Adriana to her father, as she laid down the paper announcing the long heralded arrivals. I believe it would only be good form to do so.
Under the circumstances, I would not call first, Yanna. Keep your place, until you are asked out of it.
I am quite willing to do so. My own home is a very good place, father.
Home is a blessed freedom, Yanna. At your own fireside, you can be a law unto yourself. You can speak the thing you like, from morning to night.
The papers say the Filmers are Woodsome people. Do you remember them?
I never saw the present Mr. Filmer until I made my contract with him. I can just recollect his father, old Dominie Filmer, in his flowered dressing-gown, and his velvet cap. We did not sit in his church; but Adam Kors talks a great deal about him. He says he preached sermons hard to understand, and full of sharp words. I dare say he was a good man, for Adam tells of him being puzzled and troubled at living longer than the orthodox Scriptural three-score-years-and-ten. But he died at last pretty well off.
Most ministers die poorly off.
Dominie Filmer was wise in his generation. He not only looked for mansions in the sky, he had also a reasonable respect for the land around Woodsome and for shares in the railways, and things of that kind. But no one in his day could speak ill of him; and his children and grandchildren speak very well of him. And this friend of yours, Rose Filmer, will be his granddaughter.
Yes. I hope she will call soon. If she delays too long, it will be no kindness. If she does not call at all, I think I shall hate her.
No, Yanna. Anger and hate are not for you to bother with. They are such a dreadful waste of life. Why should you let a person whom you dislike, or despise, take possession of you, and of your mind, and occupy your thoughts, and run your precious time to their idea? That is a poor business, Yanna.
Here the conversation ceased, but the next morning Adriana was on the watch for her friend. And about noon Rose came. She was driving herself in a pretty dog-cart, for she had determined as she dressed for her visit, to take no servant. She did not know what kind of a house Adriana lived in, or in what situation she might find her. For Roses experience of life had not given her any precedent by which she could judge of the social environments of a stone-builder; and she said softly as she pinned on her hat: Yes, I shall go alone. It will be kinder to Yanna. Servants will talk. They might even wonder if she is not one of our relations; these Woodsome people have made such a stir about our being native.
She drove well, and was charmed and excited by her rapid movement down the hills, and through the 17 wooded lanes. Entering the village, she asked for Mr. Van Hoosens house, and it was readily pointed out. She was a little astonished. It was a roomy, colonial dwelling, surrounded by well-kept grounds. Horse-chestnuts arched the wide avenues, and the house stood in a grove of flowering fruit trees. A boy who was rolling turf took her horses head, and she stepped to the spotless door stone, with a decided access of affection. Adriana came running down the stairs to meet her. They kissed each other, and buried in the kiss all their small differences and offences.
What a charming old house, Yanna! cried Rose.
What a perfect costume you have on, Rose! cried Adriana.
I knew you would like it. Put on your hat, Yanna. I want you all day, and all day to-morrow, and every other day you can spare.
I must tell father. I shall be delighted to go with you, Rose; but I cannot do so without his knowledge.
Certainly. I saw an old gentleman tacking up vines, as I drove through the garden.
That was father.
You can find him in two minutes and a half, I know.
In very little more, Adriana came back with the old gentleman. He looked so kindly at Rose that she could not help being pleased, and she set herself to win the old Dutchman. She made him talk about his flowers, and she listened with that air of being charmed and instructed which even when it is merely a cultivated grace is an irresistible one. She praised Yanna. She said with a frank enthusiasm, I love Yanna dearly, and while entreating for her company she acknowledged it was a great favor to ask.
Peter said it was. He assured Rose that Yanna was the sunshine of his life, but that to make them both happy, he would gladly give up his own pleasure. She thanked him with many pretty speeches, and when Adriana came down ready for her visit, Peter helped the girls into their seats, and put the reins into Roses hands. Then he watched them out of sight, with a face beaming with satisfaction.
From this excited and exalted tone, it was impossible to fall at once. Rose gave herself up to it. She patted Yannas hands; and as they went through the woods kissed her many times. Then the new house was to be gone through, and exclamations and adjectives were the only possible speech, so that everything naturally enough conduced to an emotional condition. At last Rose said, I have not shown you my apartments yet, Yanna. They are a picture in pinks; and she led her into a suite that was lovely with peach-bloom papers and hangings, with snow-white willow chairs cushioned with pink silk, and pink silk draperies trimmed with white lace. I have chosen for you the room just across the hall, she added, so we shall be very near to each other. Listen! that is the lunch-bell. Come and see mamma. In the afternoon we can talk over things.
Mrs. Filmer was very pleasant and good-natured. She chatted with the girls, and ate a salad, and then went away with her housekeeper: Only a part of the house is in order yet, she explained to Adriana; and neither workmen nor servants seem able to do without me. What will you girls talk about until seven oclock?
Oh! cried Rose, we shall have a long, delightful afternoon. And probably to Rose it was delightful, 19 for she told Yanna the tale of ball-rooms, in which Rose Filmer had been chief among a thousand beauties; she showed the photographs of many youths, who were her adorers; and she read specially eloquent sentences from her many love letters. Indeed, after a long session of this kind, Rose said heartily, I declare, I have not had such a sweet time since you left me at college. But really we must rest an hour before dinner. I always do. Come, I will take you to your room.
Adriana was glad to rest, and the soft, dim light of the carefully-shaded room tempted her to complete physical relaxation; but her mind was actively curious and alert. She had been hearing of a life entirely new to her, a pretty lute-string kind of a life, quite within the verge of the Ten Commandments, she thought; yet I do not believe it would please me long. Its feverish unrest, its small anxieties and petty aims have told already on Rose. Her mind has sunk to the level of what engages it. She no longer plans for study and self-improvement; she talks of her duties to society instead, and of its claims upon her. After all she thought a few moments, and then added emphatically after all, I am satisfied with my lot! Even upon the testimony of so prejudiced a witness as Rose, fashionable life is not a lofty thing. Its two principal standards appear to be money and smartness; and I do believe the world has a far higher ideal. It is only a very small minority who worship the great goddess Fashion, and the image which the Parisian Jupiter sends over here; the true élite of the world have always been those whose greatness was in themselves. Theres father! In any kind of clothes, or in any company, he would always be one of the élite. 20 I never could be ashamed of him. But I might be, if I saw him haunting the gay places of the world, criticising ballet girls, and shuffling cards. She indulged this train of thought, and lived over again the fantasy of life Rose had shaped in her imagination.