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That Fortune, a novel by Charles Dudley Warner |
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Chapter 8 |
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_ CHAPTER VIII To the private apartment of Mr. Mavick, in the evening of the second eventful day, where, over his after-dinner cigar, he was amusing himself with a French novel, enters, after a little warning tap, the mistress of the house, for, what was a rare occurrence, a little family chat. "So you didn't horsewhip and you didn't prosecute. You preferred to wriggle out!" "Yes," said Mavick, too much pleased with the result to be belligerent, "I let the newspaper do the wriggling." "Oh, my dear, I can trust you for that. Have you any idea how it got hold of the details?" "No; you don't think McDonald--" "McDonald! I'd as soon suspect myself. So would you." "Well, everybody knew it already, for that matter. I only wonder that some newspaper didn't get on to it before. What did Evelyn say?" "Nothing more than what you heard at dinner. She thought it amusing that there should be such a crowd to gaze at the house, simply because a picture of it had appeared in a newspaper. She thought her father must be a very important personage. I didn't undeceive her. At times, you know, dear, I think so myself." "Yes, I've noticed that," said Mavick, with a good-natured laugh, in which Carmen joined, "and those times usually coincide with the times that you want something specially." "You ought to be ashamed to take me up that way. I just wanted to talk about the coming-out reception. You know I had come over to your opinion that seventeen was perhaps better than eighteen, considering Evelyn's maturity. When I was seventeen I was just as good as I am now." "I don't doubt it," said Mavick, with another laugh. "But don't you see this affair upsets all our arrangements? It's very vexatious." "I don't see it exactly. By-the-way, what do you think of the escape suggested by the Spectrum, in the assertion that you and Evelyn had arranged to go to Europe? The steamer sails tomorrow." "Think!" exclaimed Carmen. "Do you think I am going to be run, as you call it, by the newspapers? They run everything else. I'm not politics, I'm not an institution, I'm not even a revolution. No, I thank you. It answers my purpose for them to say we have gone." "I suppose you can keep indoors a few days. As to the reception, I had arranged my business for it. I may be in Mexico or Honolulu the following winter." "Well, we can't have it now. You see that." "Carmen, I don't care a rap what the public thinks or says. The child's got to face the world some time, and look out for herself. I fancy she will not like it as much as you did." "Very likely. Perhaps I liked it because I had to fight it. Evelyn never will do that." "She hasn't the least idea what the world is like." "Don't you be too sure of that, my dear; you don't understand yet what a woman feels and knows. You think she only sees and thinks what she is told. The conceit of men is most amusing about this. Evelyn is deeper than you think. The discrimination of that child sometimes positively frightens me--how she sees into things. It wouldn't surprise me a bit if she actually knew her father and mother!" "Then she beats me," said Mavick, with another laugh, "and I've been at it a long time. Carmen, just for fun, tell me a little about your early life." "Well"--there was a Madonna-like smile on her lips, and she put out the toe of her slender foot and appeared to study it for a moment--"I was intended to be a nun." "Spanish or French?" "Just a plain nun. But mamma would not hear of it. Mamma was just a bit worldly." "I never should have suspected it," said Mavick, with equal gravity. "But how did you live in those early days, way back there?" "Oh!" and Carmen looked up with the most innocent, open-eyed expression, "we lived on our income." "Naturally. We all try to do that." The tone in Mavick's voice showed that he gave it up. "But, of course," and Carmen was lively again, "it's much nicer to have a big income that's certain than a small one that is uncertain." "It would seem so." "Ah, deary me, it's such a world! Don't you think, dear, that we have had enough domestic notoriety for one year?" "Quite. It would do for several." "And we will put it off a year?" "Arrange as you like." And Mavick stretched up his arms, half yawned, and took up another cigar. "It will be such a relief to McDonald. She insisted it was too soon." And Carmen whirled out of her chair, went behind her husband, lifted with her delicate fingers a lock of grayish hair on his forehead, deposited the lightest kiss there--"Nobody in the world knows how good you are except me," and was gone. And the rich man, who had gained everything he wanted in life except happiness, lighted his cigar and sought refuge in a tale of modern life, that was, however, too much like his own history to be consoling. It must not be supposed from what she said that Mrs. Mavick stood in fear of her daughter, but it was only natural that for a woman of the world the daily contact of a pure mind should be at times inconvenient. This pure mind was an awful touchstone of conduct, and there was a fear that Evelyn's ignorance of life would prevent her from making the proper allowances. In her affectionate and trusting nature, which suspected little evil anywhere, there was no doubt that her father and mother had her entire confidence and love. But the likelihood was that she would not be pliant. Under Miss McDonald's influence she had somewhat abstract notions of what is right and wrong, and she saw no reason why these should not be applied in all cases. What her mother would have called policy and reasonable concessions she would have given different names. For getting on in the world, this state of mind has its disadvantages, and in the opinion of practical men, like Mavick, it was necessary to know good and evil. But it was the girl's power of discernment that bothered her mother, who used often to wonder where the child came from. On the other hand, it must not be supposed that the singular training of Evelyn had absolutely destroyed her inherited tendencies, or made her as she was growing into womanhood anything but a very real woman, with the reserves, the weaknesses, the coquetries, the defenses which are the charm of her sex. Nor was she so ignorant of life as such a guarded personality might be thought. Her very wide range of reading had liberalized her mind, and given her a much wider outlook upon the struggles and passions and failures and misery of life than many another girl of her age had gained by her limited personal experience. Those who hold the theory that experience is the only guide are right as a matter of fact, since every soul seems determined to try for itself and not to accept the accumulated wisdom of literature or of experienced advisers; but those who come safely out of their experiences are generally sound by principle which has been instilled in youth. But it is useless to moralize. Only the event could show whether such an abnormal training as Evelyn had received was wise. When Mrs. Mavick went to her daughter's apartments she found Evelyn reading aloud and Miss McDonald at work on an elaborate piece of Bulgarian embroidery. "How industrious! What a rebuke to me!" "I don't see, mamma, how we could be doing less; I've only an audience of one, and she is wasting her time." "Well, carissima, it is settled. It's off for a year." "The reception? Why so?" "Your father cannot arrange it. He has too much on hand this season, and may be away." "There, McDonald, we've got a reprieve," and Evelyn gave a sigh of relief. The Scotch woman smiled, and only said, "Then I shall have time to finish this." Evelyn jumped up, threw herself into her mother's lap, and began to smooth her hair and pet her. "I'm awfully glad. I'd ever so much rather stay in than come out. Yes, dear little mother." "Little?" "Yes." And the girl pulled her mother from her chair, and made her stand up to measure. "See, McDonald, almost an inch taller than mamma, and when I do my hair on top!" "And see, mamma"--the girl was pirouetting on the floor--"I can do those steps you do. Isn't it Spanish?" "Rather Spanish-American, I guess. This is the way." Evelyn clapped her hands. "Isn't that lovely!" "You are only a little brownie, after all." Her mother was holding her at arm's--length and studying her critically, wondering if she would ever be handsome. The girl was slender, but not tall. Her figure had her mother's grace, but not its suggestion of yielding suppleness. She was an undoubted brunette--complexion olive, hair very dark, almost black except in the sunlight, and low on her forehead-chin a little strong, and nose piquant to say the least of it. Certainly features not regular nor classic. The mouth, larger than her mother's, had full lips, the upper one short, and admirable curves, strong in repose, but fascinating when she smiled. A face not handsome, but interesting. And the eyes made you hesitate to say she was not handsome, for they were large, of a dark hazel and changeable, eyes that flashed with merriment, or fell into sadness under the long eyelashes; and it would not be safe to say that they could not blaze with indignation. Not a face to go wild about, but when you felt her character through it, a face very winning in its dark virgin purity. "I do wonder where she came from?" Mrs. Mavick was saying to herself, as she threw herself upon a couch in her own room and took up the latest Spanish novel. _ |
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