Harriet Beecher Stowe
Pink and White Tyranny / A Society Novel
PREFACE
MY Dear Reader,This story is not to be a novel, as the world understands the word; and we tell you so beforehand, lest you be in ill-humor by not finding what you expected. For if you have been told that your dinner is to be salmon and green peas, and made up your mind to that bill of fare, and then, on coming to the table, find that it is beefsteak and tomatoes, you may be out of sorts; not because beefsteak and tomatoes are not respectable viands, but because they are not what you have made up your mind to enjoy.
Now, a novel, in our days, is a three-story affair,a complicated, complex, multiform composition, requiring no end of scenery and dramatis personæ, and plot and plan, together with trap-doors, pit-falls, wonderful escapes and thrilling dangers; and the scenes transport one all over the earth,to England, Italy, Switzerland, Japan, and Kamtschatka. But this is a little commonplace history, all about one man and one woman, living straight along in one little prosaic town in New England. It is, moreover, a story with a moral; and for fear that you shouldnt find out exactly what the moral is, we shall adopt the plan of the painter who wrote under his pictures, This is a bear, and This is a turtle-dove. We shall tell you in the proper time succinctly just what the moral is, and send you off edified as if you had been hearing a sermon. So please to call this little sketch a parable, and wait for the exposition thereof.
PINK AND WHITE TYRANNY
CHAPTER I
FALLING IN LOVEWHO is that beautiful creature? said John Seymour, as a light, sylph-like form tripped up the steps of the veranda of the hotel where he was lounging away his summer vacation.
That! Why, dont you know, man? That is the celebrated, the divine Lillie Ellis, the most adroit fisher of men that has been seen in our days.
By George, but shes pretty, though! said John, following with enchanted eyes the distant motions of the sylphide.
The vision that he saw was of a delicate little fairy form; a complexion of pearly white, with a cheek of the hue of a pink shell; a fair, sweet, infantine face surrounded by a fleecy radiance of soft golden hair. The vision appeared to float in some white gauzy robes; and, when she spoke or smiled, what an innocent, fresh, untouched, unspoiled look there was upon the face! John gazed, and thought of all sorts of poetical similes: of a daisy just wet with morning dew; of a violet by a mossy stone; in short, of all the things that poets have made and provided for the use of young gentlemen in the way of falling in love.
This John Seymour was about as good and honest a man as there is going in this world of ours. He was a generous, just, manly, religious young fellow. He was heir to a large, solid property; he was a well-read lawyer, established in a flourishing business; he was a man that all the world spoke well of, and had cause to speak well of. The only duty to society which John had left as yet unperformed was that of matrimony. Three and thirty years had passed; and, with every advantage for supporting a wife, with a charming home all ready for a mistress, John, as yet, had not proposed to be the defender and provider for any of the more helpless portion of creation. The cause of this was, in the first place, that John was very happy in the society of a sister, a little older than himself, who managed his house admirably, and was a charming companion to his leisure hours; and, in the second place, that he had a secret, bashful self-depreciation in regard to his power of pleasing women, which made him ill at ease in their society. Not that he did not mean to marry. He certainly did. But the fair being that he was to marry was a distant ideal, a certain undefined and cloudlike creature; and, up to this time, he had been waiting to meet her, without taking any definite steps towards that end. To say the truth, John Seymour, like many other outwardly solid, sober-minded, respectable citizens, had deep within himself a little private bit of romance. He could not utter it, he never talked it; he would have blushed and stammered and stuttered wofully, and made a very poor figure, in trying to tell any one about it; but nevertheless it was there, a secluded chamber of imagery, and the future Mrs. John Seymour formed its principal ornament.
The wife that John had imaged, his dream-wife, was not at all like his sister; though he loved his sister heartily, and thought her one of the best and noblest women that could possibly be.
But his sister was all plain prose,good, strong, earnest, respectable prose, it is true, but yet prose. He could read English history with her, talk accounts and business with her, discuss politics with her, and valued her opinions on all these topics as much as that of any man of his acquaintance. But, with the visionary Mrs. John Seymour aforesaid, he never seemed to himself to be either reading history or settling accounts, or talking politics; he was off with her in some sort of enchanted cloudland of happiness, where she was all to him, and he to her,a sort of rapture of protective love on one side, and of confiding devotion on the other, quite inexpressible, and that John would not have talked of for the world.
So when he saw this distant vision of airy gauzes, of pearly whiteness, of sea-shell pink, of infantine smiles, and waving, golden curls, he stood up with a shy desire to approach the wonderful creature, and yet with a sort of embarrassed feeling of being very awkward and clumsy. He felt, somehow, as if he were a great, coarse behemoth; his arms seemed to him awkward appendages; his hands suddenly appeared to him rough, and his fingers swelled and stumpy. When he thought of asking an introduction, he felt himself growing very hot, and blushing to the roots of his hair.
Want to be introduced to her, Seymour? said Carryl Ethridge. Ill trot you up. I know her.
No, thank you, said John, stiffly. In his heart, he felt an absurd anger at Carryl for the easy, assured way in which he spoke of the sacred creature who seemed to him something too divine to be lightly talked of. And then he saw Carryl marching up to her with his air of easy assurance. He saw the bewitching smile come over that fair, flowery face; he saw Carryl, with unabashed familiarity, take her fan out of her hand, look at it as if it were a mere common, earthly fan, toss it about, and pretend to fan himself with it.
I didnt know he was such a puppy! said John to himself, as he stood in a sort of angry bashfulness, envying the man that was so familiar with that loveliness.
Ah! John, John! You wouldnt, for the world, have told to man or woman what a fool you were at that moment.
What a fool I am! was his mental commentary: just as if it was any thing to me. And he turned, and walked to the other end of the veranda.
I think youve hooked another fish, Lillie, said Belle Trevors in the ear of the little divinity.
Who. . . ?
Why! that Seymour there, at the end of the veranda. He is looking at you, do you know? He is rich, very rich, and of an old family. Didnt you see how he started and looked after you when you came up on the veranda?
Oh! I saw plain enough, said the divinity, with one of her unconscious, baby-like smiles.
What are you ladies talking? said Carryl Ethridge.
Oh, secrets! said Belle Trevors. You are very presuming, sir, to inquire.
Mr. Ethridge, said Lillie Ellis, dont you think it would be nice to promenade?
This was said with such a pretty coolness, such a quiet composure, as showed Miss Lillie to be quite mistress of the situation; there was, of course, no sort of design in it.
Ethridge offered his arm at once; and the two sauntered to the end of the veranda, where John Seymour was standing.
The blood rushed in hot currents over him, and he could hear the beating of his heart: he felt somehow as if the hour of his fate was coming. He had a wild desire to retreat, and put it off. He looked over the end of the veranda, with some vague idea of leaping it; but alas! it was ten feet above ground, and a lovers leap would have only ticketed him as out of his head. There was nothing for it but to meet his destiny like a man.
Carryl came up with the lady on his arm; and as he stood there for a moment, in the coolest, most indifferent tone in the world, said, Oh! by the by, Miss Ellis, let me present my friend Mr. Seymour.
The die was cast.
Johns face burned like fire: he muttered something about being happy to make Miss Elliss acquaintance, looking all the time as if he would be glad to jump over the railing, or take wings and fly, to get rid of the happiness.
Miss Ellis was a belle by profession, and she understood her business perfectly. In nothing did she show herself master of her craft, more than in the adroitness with which she could soothe the bashful pangs of new votaries, and place them on an easy footing with her.
Mr. Seymour, she said affably, to tell the truth, I have been desirous of the honor of your acquaintance, ever since I saw you in the breakfast-room this morning.
I am sure I am very much flattered, said John, his heart beating thick and fast. May I ask why you honor me with such a wish?
Well, to tell the truth, because you strikingly resemble a very dear friend of mine, said Miss Ellis, with her sweet, unconscious simplicity of manner.
I am still more flattered, said John, with a quicker beating of the heart; only I fear that you may find me an unpleasant contrast.
Oh! I think not, said Lillie, with another smile: we shall soon be good friends, too, I trust.
I trust so certainly, said John, earnestly.
Belle Trevors now joined the party; and the four were soon chatting together on the best footing of acquaintance. John was delighted to feel himself already on easy terms with the fair vision.
You have not been here long? said Lillie to John.
No, I have only just arrived.
And you were never here before?
No, Miss Ellis, I am entirely new to the place.
I am an old habituée here, said Lillie, and can recommend myself as authority on all points connected with it.
Then, said John, I hope you will take me under your tuition.
Certainly, free of charge, she said, with another ravishing smile.
You havent seen the boiling spring yet? she added.
No, I havent seen any thing yet.
Well, then, if youll give me your arm across the lawn, Ill show it to you.
All of this was done in the easiest, most matter-of-course manner in the world; and off they started, John in a flutter of flattered delight at the gracious acceptance accorded to him.
Ethridge and Belle Trevors looked after them with a nod of intelligence at each other.
Hooked, by George! said Ethridge.
Well, itll be a good thing for Lillie, wont it?
For her? Oh, yes, a capital thing for her!
Well, for him too.
Well, I dont know. John is a pretty nice fellow; a very nice fellow, besides being rich, and all that; and Lillie is somewhat shop-worn by this time. Let me see: she must be seven and twenty.
Oh, yes, shes all that! said Belle, with ingenuous ardor. Why, she was in society while I was a school-girl! Yes, dear Lillie is certainly twenty-seven, if not more; but she keeps her freshness wonderfully.
Well, she looks fresh enough, I suppose, to a good, honest, artless fellow like John Seymour, who knows as little of the world as a milkmaid. John is a great, innocent, country steer, fed on clover and dew; and as honest and ignorant of all sorts of naughty, wicked things as his mother or sister. He takes Lillie in a sacred simplicity quite refreshing; but to me Lillie is played out. I know her like a book. I know all her smiles and wiles, advices and devices; and her system of tactics is an old story with me. I shant interrupt any of her little games. Let her have her little field all to herself: its time she was married, to be sure.
Meanwhile, John was being charmingly ciceroned by Lillie, and scarcely knew whether he was in the body or out. All that he felt, and felt with a sort of wonder, was that he seemed to be acceptable and pleasing in the eyes of this little fairy, and that she was leading him into wonderland.
They went not only to the boiling spring, but up and down so many wild, woodland paths that had been cut for the adornment of the Carmel Springs, and so well pleased were both parties, that it was supper-time before they reappeared on the lawn; and, when they did appear, Lillie was leaning confidentially on Johns arm, with a wreath of woodbine in her hair that he had arranged there, wondering all the while at his own wonderful boldness, and at the grace of the fair entertainer.
The returning couple were seen from the windows of Mrs. Chit, who sat on the lookout for useful information; and who forthwith ran to the apartments of Mrs. Chat, and told her to look out at them.
Billy This, who was smoking his cigar on the veranda, immediately ran and called Harry That to look at them, and laid a bet at once that Lillie had hooked Seymour.
Shell have him, by George, she will!
Oh, pshaw! she is always hooking fellows, but you see she dont get married, said matter-of-fact Harry. It wont come to any thing, now, Ill bet. Everybody said she was engaged to Danforth, but it all ended in smoke.
Whether it would be an engagement, or would all end in smoke, was the talk of Carmel Springs for the next two weeks.
At the end of that time, the mind of Carmel Springs was relieved by the announcement that it was an engagement.
The important deciding announcement was first authentically made by Lillie to Belle Trevors, who had been invited into her room that night for the purpose.
Well, Belle, its all over. He spoke out to-night.
He offered himself?
Certainly.
And you took him?
Of course I did: I should be a fool not to.
Oh, so I think, decidedly! said Belle, kissing her friend in a rapture. You dear creature! how nice! its splendid!
Lillie took the embrace with her usual sweet composure, and turned to her looking-glass, and began taking down her hair for the night. It will be perceived that this young lady was not overcome with emotion, but in a perfectly collected state of mind.
Hes a little bald, and getting rather stout, she said reflectively, but hell do.
I never saw a creature so dead in love as he is, said Belle.
A quiet smile passed over the soft, peach-blow cheeks as Lillie answered,
Oh, dear, yes! He perfectly worships the ground I tread on.
Lil, you fortunate creature, you! Positively its the best match that there has been about here this summer. Hes rich, of an old, respectable family; and then he has good principles, you know, and all that, said Belle.
I think hes nice myself, said Lillie, as she stood brushing out a golden tangle of curls. Dear me! she added, how much better he is than that Danforth! Really, Danforth was a little too horrid: his teeth were dreadful. Do you know, I should have had something of a struggle to take him, though he was so terribly rich? Then Danforth had been horridly dissipated,you dont know,Maria Sanford told me such shocking things about him, and she knows they are true. Now, I dont think John has ever been dissipated.