John kissed and embraced, and wiped away her tears, and declared she should have every thing just as she desired it, if it took the half of his kingdom.
After consoling his fair one, he burst into Graces room in the evening, just at the hour when they used to have their old brotherly and sisterly confidential talks.
You see, Grace,poor Lillie, dear little thing,you dont know how distressed she is; and, Grace, we must find somebody to do up all her fol-de-rols and fizgigs for her, you know. You see, shes been used to this kind of thing; cant do without it.
Well, Ill try to-morrow, John, said Grace, patiently. There is Mrs. Atkins,she is a very nice woman.
Oh, exactly! just the thing, said John. Yes, well get her to take all Lillies things every week. That settles it.
Do you know, John, at the prices that Mrs. Atkins asks, you will have to pay more than for all your family service together? What we have this week would be twenty dollars, at the least computation; and it is worth it too,the work of getting up is so elaborate.
John opened his eyes, and looked grave. Like all stable New-England families, the Seymours, while they practised the broadest liberality, had instincts of great sobriety in expense. Needless profusion shocked them as out of taste; and a quiet and decent reticence in matters of self-indulgence was habitual with them.
Such a price for the fine linen of his little angel rather staggered him; but he gulped it down.
Well, well, Gracie, he said, cost what it may, she must have it as she likes it. The little creature, you see, has never been accustomed to calculate or reflect in these matters; and it is trial enough to come down to our stupid way of living,so different, you know, from the gay life she has been leading.
Miss Seymours saintship was somewhat rudely tested by this remark. That anybody should think it a sacrifice to be Johns wife, and a trial to accept the homestead at Springdale, with all its tranquillity and comforts,that John, under her influence, should speak of the Springdale life as stupid,was a little drop too much in her cup. A bright streak appeared in either cheek, as she said,
Well, John, I never knew you found Springdale stupid before. Im sure, we have been happy here,and her voice quavered.
Pshaw, Gracie! you know what I mean. I dont mean that I find it stupid. I dont like the kind of rattle-brained life weve been leading this six weeks. But, then, it just suits Lillie; and its so sweet and patient of her to come here and give it all up, and say not a word of regret; and then, you see, I shall be just up to my ears in business now, and cant give up all my time to her, as I have. Theres ever so much law business coming on, and all the factory matters at Spindlewood; and I can see that Lillie will have rather a hard time of it. You must devote yourself to her, Gracie, like a dear, good soul, as you always were, and try to get her interested in our kind of life. Of course, all our set will call, and that will be something; and thenthere will be some invitations out.
Oh, yes, John! well manage it, said Grace, who had by this time swallowed her anger, and shouldered her cross once more with a womanly perseverance. Oh, yes! the Fergusons, and the Wilcoxes, and the Lennoxes, will all call; and we shall have picnics, and lawn teas, and musicals, and parties.
Yes, yes, I see, said John. Gracie, isnt she a dear little thing? Didnt she look cunning in that white wrapper this morning? How do women do those things, I wonder? said John. Dont you think her manners are lovely?
They are very sweet, and she is charmingly pretty, said Grace; and I love her dearly.
And so affectionate! Dont you think so? continued John. Shes a person that you can do any thing with through her heart. Shes all heart, and very little head. I ought not to say that, either. I think she has fair natural abilities, had they ever been cultivated.
My dear John, said Grace, you forget what time it is. Good-night!
CHAPTER VII
WILL SHE LIKE IT?JOHN, said Grace, when are you going out again to our Sunday school at Spindlewood? They are all asking after you. Do you know it is now two months since they have seen you?
I know it, said John. I am going to-morrow. You see, Gracie, I couldnt well before.
Oh! I have told them all about it, and I have kept things up; but then there are so many who want to see you, and so many things that you alone could settle and manage.
Oh, yes! Ill go to-morrow, said John. And, after this, I shall be steady at it. I wonder if we could get Lillie to go, said he, doubtfully.
Grace did not answer. Lillie was a subject on which it was always embarrassing to her to be appealed to. She was so afraid of appearing jealous or unappreciative; and her opinions were so different from those of her brother, that it was rather difficult to say any thing.
Do you think she would like it, Grace?
Indeed, John, you must know better than I. If anybody could make her take an interest in it, it would be you.
Before his marriage, John had always had the idea that pretty, affectionate little women were religious and self-denying at heart, as matters of course. No matter through what labyrinths of fashionable follies and dissipation they had been wandering, still a talent for saintship was lying dormant in their natures, which it needed only the touch of love to develop. The wings of the angel were always concealed under the fashionable attire of the belle, and would unfold themselves when the hour came. A nearer acquaintance with Lillie, he was forced to confess, had not, so far, confirmed this idea. Though hers was a face so fair and pure that, when he first knew her, it suggested ideas of prayer, and communion with angels, yet he could not disguise from himself that, in all near acquaintance with her, she had proved to be most remarkably of the earth, earthy. She was alive and fervent about fashionable gossip,of who is who, and what does what; she was alive to equipages, to dress, to sightseeing, to dancing, to any thing of which the whole stimulus and excitement was earthly and physical. At times, too, he remembered that she had talked a sort of pensive sentimentalism, of a slightly religious nature; but the least idea of a moral purpose in lifeof self-denial, and devotion to something higher than immediate self-gratificationseemed never to have entered her head. What is more, John had found his attempts to introduce such topics with her always unsuccessful. Lillie either gaped in his face, and asked him what time it was; or playfully pulled his whiskers, and asked him why he didnt take to the ministry; or adroitly turned the conversation with kissing and compliments.
Sunday morning came, shining down gloriously through the dewy elm-arches of Springdale. The green turf on either side of the wide streets was mottled and flecked with vivid flashes and glimmers of emerald, like the sheen of a changeable silk, as here and there long arrows of sunlight darted down through the leaves and touched the ground.
The gardens between the great shady houses that flanked the street were full of tall white and crimson phloxes in all the majesty of their summer bloom, and the air was filled with fragrance; and Lillie, after a two hours toilet, came forth from her chamber fresh and lovely as the bride in the Canticles. Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee. She was killingly dressed in the rural-simplicity style. All her robes and sashes were of purest white; and a knot of field-daisies and grasses, with French dew-drops on them, twinkled in an infinitesimal bonnet on her little head, and her hair was all créped into a filmy golden aureole round her face. In short, dear reader, she was a perfectly got-up angel, and wanted only some tulle clouds and an opening heaven to have gone up at once, as similar angels do from the Parisian stage.
You like me, dont you? she said, as she saw the delight in Johns eyes.
John was tempted to lay hold of his plaything.
Dont, now,youll crumple me, she said, fighting him off with a dainty parasol. Positively you shant touch me till after church.
John laid the little white hand on his arm with pride, and looked down at her over his shoulder all the way to church. He felt proud of her. They would look at her, and see how pretty she was, he thought. And so they did. Lillie had been used to admiration in church. It was one of her fields of triumph. She had received compliments on her toilet even from young clergymen, who, in the course of their preaching and praying, found leisure to observe the beauties of nature and grace in their congregation. She had been quite used to knowing of young men who got good seats in church simply for the purpose of seeing her; consequently, going to church had not the moral advantages for her that it has for people who go simply to pray and be instructed. John saw the turning of heads, and the little movements and whispers of admiration; and his heart was glad within him. The thought of her mingled with prayer and hymn; even when he closed his eyes, and bowed his head, she was there.
Perhaps this was not exactly as it should be; yet let us hope the angels look tenderly down on the sins of too much love. John felt as if he would be glad of a chance to die for her; and, when he thought of her in his prayers, it was because he loved her better than himself.
As to Lillie, there was an extraordinary sympathy of sentiment between them at that moment. John was thinking only of her; and she was thinking only of herself, as was her usual habit,herself, the one object of her life, the one idol of her love.
Not that she knew, in so many words, that she, the little, frail bit of dust and ashes that she was, was her own idol, and that she appeared before her Maker, in those solemn walls, to draw to herself the homage and the attention that was due to God alone; but yet it was true that, for years and years, Lillies unconfessed yet only motive for appearing in church had been the display of herself, and the winning of admiration.
But is she so much worse than others?than the clergyman who uses the pulpit and the sacred office to show off his talents?than the singers who sing Gods praises to show their voices,who intone the agonies of their Redeemer, or the glories of the Te Deum, confident on the comments of the newspaper press on their performance the next week? No: Lillie may be a little sinner, but not above others in this matter.
Lillie, said John to her after dinner, assuming a careless, matter-of-course air, would you like to drive with me over to Spindlewood, and see my Sunday school?
Your Sunday school, John? Why, bless me! do you teach Sunday school?
Certainly I do. Grace and I have a school of two hundred children and young people belonging to our factories. I am superintendent.
I never did hear of any thing so odd! said Lillie. What in the world can you want to take all that trouble for,go basking over there in the hot sun, and be shut up with a room full of those ill-smelling factory-people? Why, Im sure it cant be your duty! I wouldnt do it for the world. Nothing would tempt me. Why, gracious, John, you might catch small-pox or something!
Pooh! Lillie, child, you dont know any thing about them. They are just as cleanly and respectable as anybody.
Oh, well! they may be. But these Irish and Germans and Swedes and Danes, and all that low class, do smell so,you neednt tell me, now!that working-class smell is a thing that cant be disguised.
But, Lillie, these are our people. They are the laborers from whose toils our wealth comes; and we owe them something.
Well! you pay them something, dont you?
I mean morally. We owe our efforts to instruct their children, and to elevate and guide them. Lillie, I feel that it is wrong for us to use wealth merely as a means of self-gratification. We ought to labor for those who labor for us. We ought to deny ourselves, and make some sacrifices of ease for their good.
You dear old preachy creature! said Lillie. How good you must be! But, really, I havent the smallest vocation to be a missionary,not the smallest. I cant think of any thing that would induce me to take a long, hot ride in the sun, and to sit in that stived-up room with those common creatures.
John looked grave. Lillie, he said, you shouldnt speak of any of your fellow-beings in that heartless way.
Well now, if you are going to scold me, Im sure I dont want to go. Im sure, if everybody that stays at home, and has comfortable times, Sundays, instead of going out on missions, is heartless, there are a good many heartless people in the world.
I beg your pardon, my darling. I didnt mean, dear, that you were heartless, but that what you said sounded so. I knew you didnt really mean it. I didnt ask you, dear, to go to work,only to be company for me.
And I ask you to stay at home, and be company for me. Im sure it is lonesome enough here, and you are off on business almost all your days; and you might stay with me Sundays. You could hire some poor, pious young man to do all the work over there. There are plenty of them, dear knows, that it would be a real charity to help, and that could preach and pray better than you can, I know. I dont think a man that is busy all the week ought to work Sundays. It is breaking the Sabbath.
But, Lillie, I am interested in my Sunday school. I know all my people, and they know me; and no one else in the world could do for them what I could.
Well, I should think you might be interested in me: nobody else can do for me what you can, and I want you to stay with me. Thats just the way with you men: you dont care any thing about us after you get us.
Now, Lillie, darling, you know that isnt so.
Its just so. You care more for your old missionary work, now, than you do for me. Im sure I never knew that Id married a home-missionary.
Darling, please, now, dont laugh at me, and try to make me selfish and worldly. You have such power over me, you ought to be my inspiration.
Ill be your common-sense, John. When you get on stilts, and run benevolence into the ground, Ill pull you down. Now, I know it must be bad for a man, that has as much as you do to occupy his mind all the week, to go out and work Sundays; and its foolish, when you could perfectly well hire somebody else to do it, and stay at home, and have a good time.