Chapter III

by Mary Jane Holmes

　　RESULTING IN A BETROTHAL AND A TEMPEST

　　At the breakfast table next morning Julia's pale face was noticed andcommented upon.

　　"She had a violent toothache last night, which kept her awake," saidFanny.

　　"Now I think of it," said Mr. Middleton, "I wonder, Tempest, how you canhave the toothache, for you are always bragging about your handsome,healthy teeth, and say you hain't a rotten fang in your head."

　　Julia colored, for what her father said was true, neither did she rememberof ever having had the toothache in her life; but quickly recoveringherself, she said, "Neither have I a decayed tooth. It was more of afaceache, I suppose, than the genuine toothache."

　　"Probably you have taken some cold," said Mr. Wilmot.

　　"I think quite likely I have," retorted Julia, and so the toothache matterwas dismissed for the time. Mr. Miller, however, thought he could see init a plan of Julia's to avoid going to school that day and when he heardMrs. Middleton say, "Julia, as it is so cold and chilly, perhaps you hadbetter not go out," he was rather surprised to hear her reply, "Oh, no,mother; Mr. Miller is going with us and I would not miss of being therefor anything."

　　So the party proceeded together to the schoolhouse. When school commencedJulia took her books and going up to Mr. Wilmot, said, loudly enough forMr. Miller to hear: "Mr. Wilmot, do you know that you gave me a very hardlesson for today?"

　　"Yes, Julia," said he, "I know it is hard and long, and as you do not seemwell, I will excuse you from as much of it as you choose, or from thewhole of it, if you like."

　　"No, no," said Julia; "Mr. Miller is here and I would like to show himthat I have improved since last winter, when, as I fear, I was often sadlyremiss in my studies. All I want to tell you is that if I do not recite aswell as usual, you mustn't scold me a bit; will you?"

　　"Oh, certainly not," said Mr. Wilmot, and then he added in a tone so lowthat no one heard but Julia, "I could not scold you, dear Julia."

　　Thus flattered, the young lady took her seat and for a time seemed veryintensely occupied with her lessons. At last she opened her portfolio and,taking from it a sheet of foolscap, cast an exulting glance toward Fannyand Mr. Miller, the latter of whom was watching her movements. She thentook her gold pencil and commenced scribbling something on the paper. Bythe time her lesson was called she laid the paper on the desk, andprepared to do honor to herself and teacher. The moving of the paperattracted Mr. Wilmot's notice, and going toward her, he very gently said,"I presume you have no objection to letting me see what you have writtenhere."

　　She at first put out her hand as if to prevent him from taking it, but atlast she suffered him to do so, but tried to look interestingly confused.Mr. Wilmot read what was written and then smiling passed it to his friend,who looked at it and saw that it was a piece of tolerably good blankverse.

　　"Is this your composition, Julia?" said Mr. Miller.

　　"Yes, sir," she replied.

　　"And have your 'notes' always been of this nature?" asked Mr. Wilmot.

　　"That, or something similar," said Julia. "I find no difficulty inlearning my lesson by once reading, and as I am very fond of poetry, Ilike to employ the rest of my time in trying my powers at it!"

　　Mr. Wilmot looked at Mr. Miller, as much as to say, "I hope you aresatisfied," and then proceeded to hear Julia's lesson, which waswell-learned and well-recited. Julia's recitation being over, Fanny'sclass was called. Fanny came hesitatingly, for she knew her lesson was butpoorly learned. That morning she had found under her desk a love letterfrom Bill Jeffrey, and she and some of the other girls had spent so muchtime in laughing over it, and preparing an answer, that she had scarcelythought of her lesson. She got through with it, however, as well as shecould, and was returning to her seat when Mr. Miller called her to him andsaid reprovingly, "Fanny, why did you not have a better lesson?"

　　"Oh, Mr. Miller," she said, almost crying, "I did intend to, but I forgotall about your being here"; and then, as a new thought struck her, shesaid mischievously, "and besides I have spent all the morning writing ananswer to Bill Jeffrey's love letter!"

　　At this unlooked-for speech, all the scholars burst into a laugh anddirected their eyes toward the crestfallen Bill, who seemed so painfullyembarrassed that Fanny regretted what she had said, and as soon as schoolwas out for the morning she went to him and told him she was sorry for sothoughtlessly exposing him to ridicule; "but," added she, "Billy, I'lltell you what, you mustn't write me any more love letters, for 'tis notright to do such things at school; neither need you bring me any morecandy or raisins. I don't object to your giving me a nice big appleoccasionally, but candy and raisins you had better give to the littlechildren. And now to prove that I am really your friend, if you will getthat old dogeared arithmetic of yours, I will show you how to do some ofthose hard sums which trouble you so."

　　Billy was surprised. The butt of the school, he was accustomed to thejeers of his companions, but such kindness, and from Fanny, too, wasunexpected. He, however, drew from his desk his old slate and arithmeticand he and Fanny were soon deep in the mysteries of compound fractions. Ahalf hour passed away and at the end of that time Billy's sums were done.

　　"Now, Billy," said Fanny, "see that you do not send me any more letters,and mind, too, and not wink at me so often; you will remember?" Bill gavethe required promise and Fanny bounded away in quest of her schoolmates,who laughed at her for taking so much pains with such a dolt as BillJeffrey. That afternoon Fanny resolved to retrieve her character as ascholar; so she applied herself closely to her task, and before recitationhour arrived she had learned every word of her lesson. But alas for poorFanny. She was always stumbling into some new difficulty, and fate, thisafternoon, seemed resolved to play a sorry trick upon her.

　　The schoolhouse stood at the foot of a long, steep hill, which would havebeen chosen for a capital sliding place by New York boys; but in Kentuckythe winters are, comparatively speaking, so mild that the boys know butlittle of that rare fun, "sliding down hill." The winter of which we arespeaking was, however, unusually severe, and the schoolboys had persevereduntil they had succeeded in making a tolerably nice sliding place, andthey had also furnished themselves with a goodly number of ratherrough-looking sleds, of which Bill Jeffrey owned the largest. The girlswere all anxious to try a ride down the hill, and none more so than Fanny;but the boys would not lend their sleds, and the girls would not ride withthe boys, and as the latter always hid their precious sleighs, the girlshad as yet never succeeded in their wishes. But on this day, Bill Jeffrey,touched by Fanny's unlooked-for kindness, whispered to her, just as schoolwas commencing, that she might take his big sled at recess.

　　This was a treat indeed, and when recess came, Fanny, with half a dozenother girls, climbed to the top of the hill, and began piling on to Bill'sold sled. It was settled that Fanny should guide the craft, and numerouswere the cautions of the girls that she should "mind and steer straight."

　　"Oh, yes, I'll do that," said Fanny; "but wouldn't it be funny," addedshe, "if we should make a mistake and go plump into the schoolhouse!"

　　At last all was ready, and the vehicle got under way. At first it movedslowly, and the loud, merry laugh of the girls rang out on the clear, coolair; but each moment it increased in swiftness, and by the time it washalf-way down the hill, was moving at an astonishingly rapid rate. Fannylost her presence of mind and, with it, her ability to guide the sled, sothat they passed the point where they should have turned and made directlyfor the schoolhouse door, which flew open, as once did the gates for thefamous John Gilpin. There was no entryway to the building, but as the sledstruck the door the jolt threw off all the girls except Fanny, whomanfully kept her seat; and so made her grand entrance into theschoolroom, stopping not till she reached the stove, and partiallyupsetting it, to the great astonishment of the teacher, visitor, and boys,the latter of whom set up a loud huzza. Poor Fanny! 'Twas her first sledride, and she felt sure it would be her last; but she resolved to make thebest of it, so she looked up from under her curls and said very demurely,"Please, Mr. Wilmot, may I stop at this station? I do not like being sonear the engine!" meaning the stove, whose proximity made her quarters alittle uncomfortable.

　　Mr. Wilmot gave her permission to take her seat, which she readily did,wondering why it was that she always managed to do something which madeher appear ridiculous, just when she wanted to appear the best. Her mishapgave secret pleasure to Julia, who delighted to have Fanny appear as badlyas possible, and she felt particularly pleased when she saw that Fanny'sstrange ride had scattered all the ideas from her head, for theafternoon's lessons were but little better recited than the morning, andat its close Julia gave her a look of malicious triumph, which Mr. Millerobserving, said, as if apologising for Fanny, that he was sure that shehad every word of her lesson before recess, but it was no wonder she wassomewhat disconcerted at the unexpected termination of her ride. Fannysmiled gratefully upon him through her tears, which she could notrestrain; but her tears were like April showers--they did not last long,and that night, at the supper table, when Mr. Miller related her adventureto her father, she joined as gayly as any one in the laugh which followed.

　　Julia was much displeased to think that Fanny's "ridiculous conduct," asshe called it, should be told of and laughed at as if it were somethingamusing. She was anxious, too, that Mr. Miller should draw his visit to aclose, but as he did not seem inclined to do so, she resolved to make themost of it, and give him a few new ideas. She knew that Fanny had everbeen his favorite and she very naturally supposed that the reason of hispreference was because he thought she possessed a very lovely, amiabledisposition. She determined to make him think otherwise, and set herselfat work to execute a plan, which fully showed the heartless deceptionwhich almost always characterized her actions.

　　Fortune seemed to favor her, for after supper her father and motherannounced their intention of spending the evening at one of theneighbors', and soon after they left Mr. Wilmot, who had letters to write,retired to his room, together with Mr. Miller. As soon as they were goneJulia repaired to the negro quarters and, by dint of threats, flattery andpromises of reward, finally prevailed upon Luce to join with her in herdark plot. They then went to Julia's sleeping room and carefully openedthe closet door, so that every word of their conversation could be heardin the adjoining room.

　　Julia's voice was strangely like her sister's, and by means of imitatingher she hoped to deceive both Mr. Wilmot and Mr. Miller, who were startledby a loud, angry voice, exclaiming, "Come, you black imp, no more lies,you know you've stolen it, so just confess, and tell me where it is."

　　The young gentlemen looked at each other in surprise, for the voice waslike Fanny's, and yet it was so unnatural for her to be in such a passionthat they thought it impossible. Their fears were, however, soon confirmedby Luce, who said, "Oh, Miss Fanny, Lor' knows I never tached it. Now,sartin I knows nothin' 'bout it."

　　"Hold your jaw, or I'll slap your mouth for you, you lying thief!" saidJulia (alias Fanny). "Of course you've got it, for no one else has been inhere; so tell where you hid it."

　　"Lordy massy! How can I tell, when I dun know nothin' whar 'tis," saidLuce.

　　"There, take, that to brighten up your ideas," said Fanny, and at the sametime there was, the sound of a blow, which was followed by an outcry fromLuce, who exclaimed, "Oh--oh--oh--Miss Fanny, don't go for to whip me, 'caseI haint nothin to tell; if I had I'd tell right off. I haint seed yourhankercher 'tall. Mebby you've done drapped it somewhar."

　　Just then the door opened, and Julia, again speaking naturally, was heardto say, "Why, Fanny, what are you doing just as soon as mother is gone?Luce, what is the matter?"

　　"Oh, Miss Julia," replied Luce, "Miss Fanny done lost her fine hankercher,and she say how I stole it, but I haint."

　　"What makes you think Luce has got your handkerchief, Fanny?" asked Julia.

　　"Because I left it on the table, and 'tisn't there now; and no one hasbeen in the room except Luce," replied Fanny.

　　"Very likely you have put it in your drawer and forgotten it; let melook," said Julia.

　　There was a moment's silence, and then Julia was heard to exclaim, "Thereit is, just as I thought. Here it is, safe in your box. I do wish, sister,you would not be quite so hasty, but stop a little before you condemnothers." So saying, the party left the room.

　　While this scene was taking place, Fanny was quietly seated by the fire inthe sitting room, getting her lesson for the next day. At last her eyechanced to fall upon a purse which Julia was knitting for her father andwhich she had promised to finish that night.

　　"I wonder," said Fanny to herself--"I wonder where Julia is gone so long?She told father she would finish his purse this evening, and he will scoldso, if it is not done, that I believe I'll knit on it till she returns."

　　Suiting the action to the word, she caught up the purse, and when Juliareturned to the sitting room, she found her sister busily engaged inknitting for her.

　　"Why, Julia," said Fanny, "where have you been so long; I though you werenever coming back, so I have been knitting on your purse, for I was afraidyou would not get it done, and then father would scold, you know."

　　As Julia looked into her sister's bright, innocent face and thought of allher kindness, her conscience smote her for the wrong she had done, butquickly hushing the faithful monitor, she thought, "Never mind; it isnatural for me to be bad. I cannot help it."

　　Meantime the gentlemen above were discussing the conversation which theyhad overheard.

　　"Is it possible," said Mr. Miller, "that I have been so deceived in Fanny,and that, after all, she is as passionate as her sister?"

　　"As passionate as her sister," repeated Mr. Wilmot; "I think we have goodproof that she is much more so. I hope you are now convinced that Fanny isnot infallible, though I will confess I am surprised and disappointed, forI thought she was really of a very gentle nature."

　　Mr. Miller did not reply directly, but went on, as if speaking to himself,"Oh, Fanny, Fanny, how has my idol fallen! I never would have believed it,but for such convincing evidence."

　　He was indeed sorely disappointed. He had always thought of Fanny as theembodiment of almost every female virtue, and although she was so young,hope had often whispered to him of a joyous future when she, whom herfather designated as "Sunshine," should also shed a halo of sunlightaround another fireside. But now the illusion was painfully dispelled, forsooner would he have taken the Egyptian asp to his bosom than chosen for acompanion one whom he knew to possess a hasty, violent temper.

　　Next morning he took leave of Mr. Middleton's family. When it came Fanny'sturn to bid him good-by, she noticed the absence of his accustomedcordiality, and wondered much what she had done to displease him. Thatnight she wept herself to sleep thinking of it, while Julia, secretlyexulting in her sister's uneasiness, laughed at her for her foolishness,and said, "It was probably a mere fancy, and even if it were not; whatmatter was it? What did she care for Mr. Miller's good or bad opinion? Shemustn't expect everybody to pet and caress her just as her father did, whowas an old fool anyway, and petted her and her dogs alternately." Thiskind of reasoning did not convince Fanny, and for many days her face worea sad, troubled expression.

　　Thus the winter passed away. Spring came, and with it came an offer to Mr.Wilmot of a very lucrative situation as teacher in a school in Frankfort.At first he hesitated about accepting it, for there was, in the old roughstone house, an attraction far greater than the mere consideration ofdollars and cents. Julia at, last settled the matter, by requesting him toaccept the offer, and then urge her father to let her go to Frankfort toschool also.

　　"And why do you wish to go there, Julia?" said Mr. Wilmot, laying his handon her dark, glossy hair.

　　"Because," she answered, "it will be so lonely here when you are gone."

　　"And why will it be lonely, dearest Julia?" continued he.

　　"Oh," said she, looking up very innocently in his face, "you are the onlyperson who understands me; by all others, whatever I do or say isconstrued into something bad. I wish you were my brother, for then I mighthave been better than I am."

　　"Oh, I do not wish I was your brother," said Mr. Wilmot, "for then I couldnever have claimed a dearer title, which I hope now to do at some futuretime."

　　Then followed a declaration of love, which Julia had long waited mostanxiously for. Most eloquently did Mr. Wilmot pour out the whole tide ofhis affection for the beautiful but sinful girl, who, in a very becomingand appropriate manner, murmured an acknowledgment of requited love. Thusthe two were betrothed.

　　And truly it was a fitting time for such a betrothal. The air had been hotand sultry all day, and now the sky was overspread with dark clouds, whileeverything indicated an approaching storm. While Mr. Wilmot was yetspeaking, it burst upon them with great violence. Peal after peal ofthunder followed each other, in rapid succession, and just as Juliawhispered a promise to be Mr. Wilmot's forever, a blinding sheet oflightning lit up for a moment her dark features, and was instantlysucceeded by a crash, which shook the whole house from its foundation, anddrew from Julia a cry of terror, which brought Fanny to see what was thematter, and made Mr. Middleton swear, "Thar was noise enough from thetempest outdoors, without the 'Tempest' in the house raising such a devilof a fuss!"