Chapter VIII

by Mary Jane Holmes

　　MR. MIDDLETON HAS MORE CALLERS FROM NEW YORK

　　The reader will now accompany us to Geneva, one of the most beautifulvillages in Western New York. On arriving at the depot we are beset by ahost of runners, who call out lustily, "Temperance House!" "FranklinHouse!" "Geneva Hotel!" "Carriage to any part of the village for ashilling!" But we prefer walking, and passing up Water Street, and Senecastreet, we soon come to Main street, which we follow until we come to alarge, elegant mansion, the property of Judge Fulton, who is that eveningentertaining a fashionable party. No matter if we are not invited, we canenter unperceived and note down what is taking place.

　　Our attention is first directed toward the judge and his accomplishedlady, who are doing the honors of the evening. As we scan their looksclosely, we are struck with their features, and we feel sure that to themwealth was not given in vain, and that the beggar never left their doorunfed or uncared for.

　　Mrs. Fulton's countenance looks very familiar to us, and we wonder muchwhere we have seen her before, or if we never have seen her, who it isthat she so strongly reminds us of. Before we can solve the mystery, weobserve across the room a face which makes us start up and exclaim, "Is itpossible! Can that be Dr. Lacey?" A second look at the gentleman inquestion convinces us that he is two inches shorter than Dr. Lacey, andalso that he wears glasses; still be bears a striking resemblance to thedoctor, and we inquire who he is. We are told that his name is RobertStanton. He is a graduate of Yale and a brother of Mrs. Fulton, He isintending in a few days to start for Kentucky, in company with FredericRaymond, who was a classmate of his.

　　As we watch young Stanton's movements, we observe a certain restlessnessin his eye, as it wanders over the crowded room, seemingly in quest ofsome one who is not there. At last there is a new arrival, and MissWarner, a very prim lady and a teacher in the seminary, is announced,together with three of her pupils. As the young girls enter the parlor,Mr. Stanton seems suddenly animated with new life, and we feel sure thatone of those young ladies has a great attraction for him. Nor are wemistaken, for he soon crosses the room, and going up to one of them, arosy-cheeked, blue-eyed girl, he says in a low tone, "I am glad you havecome, Nellie. I had almost given you up, and concluded you were doingpenance for some misdemeanor, and so could not come out." Then taking herupon his arm, he kept her near him all the evening.

　　There was a strange history connected with Helen Ashton, or Nellie, as shewas more familiarly called, but of this we will speak hereafter. She wasformerly a member of the young ladies' school in New Haven, where she hadbecome acquainted with Robert Stanton, who was in college. An intimacysprang up between them which at last ripened into an agreement. Stanton'shome was near Geneva, and when he left college he suddenly discovered thatthe Geneva Seminary was superior to any other, and with but little troublehe persuaded Nellie to go there to school.

　　She had now been an inmate of the seminary in that place little more thana year, during which time Robert had pursued the study of law in JudgeFulton's office. He had always possessed a great desire to visit Kentucky,and had finally concluded to do so, determining if he liked it to make ithis permanent residence. He was to return the next autumn for Nellie, whowas to remain in school until that time.

　　As they stood together that evening conversing about Kentucky, Nelliesaid, "I have an old schoolmate in Frankfort. It is Kate Wilmot. Do youremember having seen her in New Haven?"

　　"Is she very beautiful?" asked Robert.

　　"Oh, yes, exceedingly so. She turned half the students' heads," answeredNellie.

　　"Yes, I remember her perfectly well," said Frederic Raymond, who wasstanding near, "and so does Bob, but he wants to pretend he does not. Bythe way, Miss Ashton," continued he, "are you not afraid that Kate'smarvelous beauty will endanger your claim upon Robert's heart, when heshall be near her constantly, and can only think of your blue eyes as'over the hills and far away?'"

　　Helen blushed, but did not answer, and Stanton said, "Never fear for me,Fred, but rather keep your own heart safely locked away, for fear some ofthose dark-eyed Kentucky girls will, ere you are aware, rifle you of it."

　　"I shall do no such thing," returned Frederic. "I am going there for theexpress purpose of losing my heart, and the first Kentucky girl whichpleases me shall be my wife, any way."

　　"Whether she likes you or not?" asked Nellie.

　　"Yes, whether she likes me or not," answered Frederic, "I shall marry herfirst, and make her like me afterward."

　　So saying he sauntered off to another part of the room, little thinkingthat what he had spoken in jest would afterward prove true. At a late hourthe company began to disperse, Miss Warner keeping a watchful eye upon herpupils, lest some lawless collegiate should relieve her from the troubleof seeing them safely home. This perpendicular maiden had lived fortyyears on this mundane sphere without ever having had an offer, and she hadcome to think of gentlemen as a race of intruding bipeds which the worldwould be much better without. However, if there were any of the specieswhich she could tolerate, it was Judge Fulton and Robert Stanton. Theformer she liked, because everybody liked him, and said he was a "niceman, and what everybody said must be true." Her partiality for the latterarose from the fact that he had several times complimented her fine figureand dignified manners; so when he that night asked the privilege ofwalking home with Nellie, she raised no very strong opposition, butyielded the point by merely saying something about "child's play." She,however, kept near enough to them to hear every word of theirconversation; but they consoled themselves by thinking that the wide-openears could not penetrate the recesses of their well-filled letters whichthey saw in the future.

　　In a few days Stanton and Raymond started for Kentucky. The evening beforethey left was spent by Stanton in Nellie's company. Mrs. Fulton hadinvited her to pass the night with her, as the Judge was absent from home.About ten o'clock Mrs. Fulton very considerately grew sleepy, and retiredto her own room. But long after the town clock rang out the hour ofmidnight, a light might have been seen gleaming from the windows of JudgeFulton's sitting room, in which sat Robert and Nellie, repeating for thehundredth time vows of eternal constancy.

　　The next morning when the last rumbling sound of the eastern train diedaway in the streets of Geneva, Nellie Ashton sat weeping in her littleroom at the seminary. She felt that now she was again alone in the wide,wide world. Eight years before she had in the short space of three weeksfollowed both father and mother to their last resting place, and upontheir newly-made graves she had prayed the orphan's prayer, that God wouldprotect one who was without father, mother, brother or sister in theworld.

　　The little property of her father was sold for the payment of his debts,and Nellie, who was then but twelve years old, was obliged to labor bothearly and late for her daily bread. Her father had lived near the city ofNew York, and not long after his death she procured a situation in awealthy family of that city. She was called "the girl to do chores," whichmeant that she was kept running from garret to cellar, from parlor tokitchen, first here and then there, from earliest dawn to latest evening.It was almost always eleven o'clock before she could steal away to her lowbed in the dark garret, and often, in the loneliness of the night, wouldthe desolate child pray that the God with whom her parents dwelt wouldlook in pity upon the helpless orphan.

　　Ere long her prayer was answered, for there came to the house where shelived a gentleman and lady, who saw the "little kitchen girl." Somethingthere was in her sad but intelligent face which attracted their notice,and they inquired her history of Mrs. Stanley, the lady with whom shelived.

　　"She is," said Mrs. Stanley, "a good enough girl, if she would only letbooks alone; but she seems to have a passion for study, quite unsuitablefor one in her station. When she is cleaning the knives she will have abook before her; and instead of singing the baby to sleep, she will getdown and read to her, or repeat something which she has learned."

　　"And has she no relatives?" asked the gentleman.

　　"None living that I know of," said Mrs. Stanley; and then she added,"Nellie says she had a brother who was several years older than herself,and that three years ago he was one morning missing, and they found on histable a letter, saying that he had gone to sea on a whaling voyage, andwould be gone three years. Her father afterward heard that the vessel inwhich his son sailed was supposed to be lost with all its crew. This isher story; but you can never tell how much to believe of the stories whichsuch girls tell."

　　"Did you ever detect her in a falsehood?" asked the gentleman.

　　"Why, no, I never did; but of course she will equivocate, for all suchpaupers will."

　　"With whom did she live before she came here?" continued the gentleman.

　　"With a Mr. Barnard," answered Mrs. Stanley; and she continued laughingly,"You had better inquire about her of him, as you seem so much interestedin her. He lives out a few miles in the country."

　　The result of the conversation was that the Mr. Barnard mentioned abovereceived the next day a call from a stranger, who made particular inquiryabout little Helen Ashton. He seemed satisfied with the result, and as hehad before learned that Mr. Barnard was a very good, honest man, he handedhim five hundred dollars, telling him to take Nellie home--as she calledMr. Barnard's house--and to send her for two years to the district school.At the end of that time he would furnish funds for her to be educated inNew Haven.

　　There was great excitement in Mrs. Stanley's family when it was known thatNellie was to go away and be sent to school in New Haven. "I wonder," saidMrs. Stanley, "who pays the expenses? It can't be Judge ---- (naming thegentleman who had seemed so much interested in Nellie), for I am sure hewould not be stupid enough to take a street beggar, as it were, andeducate her." A second thought convinced her that it must be the saidgentleman, and she suddenly felt an inclination to do something herselffor the hitherto neglected kitchen girl.

　　Accordingly, Nellie was summoned to the parlor and the state of herwardrobe inquired into. It was found to be lamentably deficient in eventhe necessary articles of clothing. Mrs. Stanley then turned her rag baginside out and rummaged through several boxes in the garret which had notseen the light for several years. The result of her search was three orfour cast-off garments, which the cook said "were so bad the rag man wouldhardly buy them." Mrs. Stanley, however, thought they were quite a gift,and gave Nellie many injunctions as to when she should wear them. Nelliethought it doubtful whether she should wear them all; but she saidnothing, and in a few days she left Mrs. Stanley's house for a morepleasant home at Mr. Barnard's.

　　It was a great mystery to Nellie who it could be that had befriended her;but if Mr. Barnard knew, he kept the knowledge to himself, and Nellie wasobliged to remain in ignorance. She was, however, satisfied that thegentleman, whoever he was, was both able and willing to carry out hisplan, for money for the payment of her school bills was regularly remittedto Mr. Barnard. At the time when she wished to leave New Haven, she hadwritten to Mr. Barnard on the subject, and in due time had received fromhim a letter saying that the gentleman who was educating her was not onlywilling but anxious to have her sent to Geneva.

　　Soon after her arrival there she chanced to meet Judge Fulton and hiswife. Something in their looks seemed familiar, and also awoke a painfulreminiscence of the dark kitchen and the lone garret far off in the greatcity. She could not remember ever having seen them, and so dismissed thesubject from her mind, merely wondering if they knew that she who was tobe their brother's wife once lighted fires and cleaned potatoes as acommon servant girl.

　　The reader will perhaps have imagined that the gentleman who befriendedNellie was none other than Judge Fulton. He was incited to this act ofkindness by the same benevolent feeling which prompted all his deeds ofcharity. He had no daughters, and his intention was, first to see whatimprovement she would make of her advantages, and if he were satisfied, hewould take her home as his adopted daughter. He was somewhat surprisedwhen, two years before the time of which we are speaking, he receivedthrough Mr. Barnard a letter from Nellie addressed to, "My unknownbenefactor," and desiring his consent to an engagement between herself andRobert Stanton. The same mail brought a letter from Robert, saying that hehad just made an offer of his hand to a Miss Helen Ashton, who was onlywaiting for her guardian to sanction her choice. Judge Fulton's consentwas given, and he wrote to Nellie that before she was married he wouldmake himself known to her, and give her a wedding at his own house.

　　A few days before Robert left for Kentucky Judge Fulton received anotherletter from Nellie, saying that it was Mr. Stanton's wish to be marriedthe ensuing autumn. To this the judge gave his approval and determined assoon as Robert was gone to enlighten Nellie as to who her guardian was.This, then, was the history of Nellie Ashton, whom we will leave for atime, and as our readers are probably anxious to return to the blandclimate of Kentucky, we will follow young Stanton and Raymond on theirjourney. Having arrived at Buffalo, they took passage in the steamboatSaratoga, which landed them safely in Sandusky after a trip of abouttwenty-four hours. At Sandusky they took the cars for Cincinnati.

　　As they neared the Queen City, they noticed at one of the stations a tall,intelligent, but rather reckless-looking young man, who entered the carsand took a seat directly opposite them. There was something peculiarlyattractive to Raymond in the confident, self-possessed manner of thestranger, and ere long he had, to use a Yankee expression, "scrapedacquaintance" with him, and learned that his name was Henry Ashton, andthat he too was on his way to Frankfort, where he resided. As the youngman told his name, Raymond turned to Stanton and said, "I should thinkthat you'd feel acquainted with this gentleman, you are so partial to hisname."

　　Stanton did not answer, and Raymond proceeded to question Mr. Ashton aboutFrankfort and its inhabitants. "By the way," said he, "are there anypretty girls there? Substantial ones, I mean, who have a purse long enoughto pay a fellow for the trouble of marrying them?"

　　Mr. Ashton smiled and answered, "Yes, we have a good many, and rich onestoo; but the belle of the city when I left was a Mrs. Carrington--"

　　"The plague it was!" interrupted Raymond, "and can't we get rid of herhusband somehow? Won't he die of yellow fever, cholera or something? Or ishe a gouty old wretch, who will live forever?"

　　"You prevented me from telling you," said Mr. Ashton, "that Mr. Carringtonhas died since I left there. But you will hardly win this fair, haughtylady, unless you can plank about a million. But there are other facesquite as pretty, I think. There is a Julia Middleton, who is attendingschool. She is a great beauty, but, if report speaks truly, she would keepyou busily employed in curbing her high temper."

　　"No matter about the temper--has she got the dimes?" said Raymond.

　　"About one hundred thousand dollars, I think," answered Ashton; "but onewould need to be paid that much for having such a fury as she is, and sucha queer old rat as her father."

　　He then proceeded to enumerate some of Mr. Middleton's oddities, at all ofwhich his auditors laughed heartily, and expressed their determination tomake the old man's acquaintance as soon as possible. When the young menreached Cincinnati, they concluded to take the stage route to Lexingtonand Versailles, and to pay Mr. Middleton a visit before they proceeded toFrankfort. Accordingly on Thursday afternoon, just as the sun was setting,they entered Mr. Middleton's yard, where they were received by the dogs,with just such a demonstration of anger as had greeted Mr. Wilmot morethan a year before.

　　The master of the house was this time at home, and soon appearing at thedoor, he called out to the negroes who were in the yard, "Ho, thar, boys!Stuff your woolly heads down them tarnal dogs' throats and make them stoptheir yellin'! Glad to see you--walk in. Moses and Aaron! If this ain'tAshton from Frankfort. How d'ye do? How d'ye do?"

　　Mr. Ashton shook hands with him, and then introduced his companions,saying they were from New York. The word New York seemed to thrill Mr.Middleton's nerves like an electric shock. He seized both hands of theyoung men and exclaimed, "From New York, hey? Then thrice welcome to myold cabin and hominy; old Josh's door is allus wide open to folks from NewYork." Then leading the way to the sitting room, he continued, "Yes, myown noble boy was from New York, but he died (this is my old woman Nancy,gentlemen). I don't see why in the old Harry he couldn't of lived. But hedied and they kivered him up while I was gone, and I never seen him nomore. Ho! Here, Tilda, fetch some hot water and make a little sling forthese chaps. It'll do 'em good, as it's mighty cold and raw like out o'door."

　　The sling was made, and Ashton and Raymond drank readily and freely; butwhen it was offered to Stanton, he modestly but firmly refused. "What uponairth!" said Mr. Middleton, "not drink when a friend asks you? Why, boy,just take a swaller."

　　Here Raymond, who was ready to adopt Mr. Middleton's language and manners,exclaimed, "I'll tell you what, old boy, Bob's left a sweetheart in NewYork, and I fancy she lectured him on intemperance, for you know the womenare dead set against it."

　　Mr. Middleton looked first at Raymond, then at Stanton and said, "Well, heknows good sense by not touchin' on't, I reckon. Got a sweetheart, hey?That's better than to come here and marry some of our spitfires. Poor boy!Dick was engaged to one of 'em, and I've hearn that she raised a tantareenand broke his heart. But I'll fix her! I'll dock off fifty thousand to payfor that caper."

　　Here Mr. Ashton asked if Mr. Middleton's daughters were still atFrankfort. "Yes," returned Mr. Middleton, "both thar, study in' all theflat things you can think on, and thummin' away on the pianner. You'll see'em thar; but mind me one and all, mind I say, don't fall in love withSunshine, for she's engaged, and I've gin my consent, and whoever meddlesin that match'll find Josh after 'em!" By way of adding emphasis to hiswords he brought his fist back against a work-stand, on which stood hiswife's work basket. The stand was upset, and all the articles of thebasket rolled on the floor. "Great Peter!" said Mr. Middleton, "ho, Tilda,come pick up these 'ere things!"

　　Tilda came at the call of her master. While she was replacing the articlesin her mistress' basket, Raymond, who wished to show that he was ready toadopt all the peculiarities of the State, said, "That's a valuable lookingnegro girl. I suppose your property mostly consists in such as she. Idon't wonder that you object to give them up just to please the North.Have you many such?"

　　"Yes, quite a heap on 'em. Why? Want to steal 'em, hey?"

　　Raymond reddened. His attempts at anti-abolition had not succeeded as wellas he anticipated; but he soon rallied and said, "Certainly not; Ishouldn't know what to do with your slaves if I had them; besides I haveno inclination to interfere with your Southern institutions. I am too muchof a pro-slavery man myself."

　　"Likely enough," said Mr. Middleton, rather gruffly, for he did not muchlike the appearance of Raymond, "likely enough. But, young man, let oldJosh give you a little advice. I've seen more than double your years, Ireckon, and I never seen a man come from the free states that wasn't alittle teched with abolitionism. It's nateral like and onnateral to changetheir mind so mighty soon. So I advise you to keep your opinions toyourself for a spell, any way. A heap on 'em come here, and are surprisednot to find a whippin' post stuck up in a corner of every yard. I don'tsay you are one of 'em; but we don't think no better of a body when theyjine in with us so soon."

　　This speech somewhat disconcerted young Raymond, who was anxious to getinto Mr. Middleton's good graces; but his discomfiture was soon removed byhis saying, "Boy, don't take what I've said in high dudgeon. Folks allussee the roughest side of me first; I'm a friend to you, and allus will beas long as you do well." Then chancing to think his guests were hungry, hecalled out, "Saints and angels! Why don't you bring in supper, you lazybones thar in the kitchen? Do you hear?"

　　"Yes, marster," said three or four negroes at once, "supper'll be readyd'rectly."

　　In a few moments the nicely-cooked spare-rib was smoking on the table,together with hot coffee, boiled turnips and egg bread, which Southerncooks know so well how to make. Besides this there was the golden-coloredbutter, white flaky honeycomb, and the Sunday pitcher overflowing withrich creamy milk. "Come, boys, set by and have some fodder!" said Mr.Middleton.

　　The young gentlemen took their seats at the table and Mr. Middletoncontinued, "Now lay into 't and help yourselves. I ain't used to perlitestrains, and if I should try you'd all larf at me--mebby you want to now.Tempest say's I'm enough to make a dog larf."

　　"Who is Tempest? One of your servants?" asked Stanton.

　　"Christopher Columbus! One of my servants!" answered Mr. Middleton. "HowTempest would rar to hear that. Why, she's my oldest gal."

　　"I beg your pardon," said Stanton.

　　"Not a bit on't," answered Mr. Middleton. "I don't wonder you thought so,such an oudun name! Her real name is Julia, but I call her Tempest, 'casethat's jist like her. She's a regular thunderstorm of lightning, hail andiron slugs. You'll see her in Frankfort. Goin' into the law thar, areyou?"

　　Stanton answered that he thought he should.

　　"Well," said Mr. Middleton, "I'll give you all my suits, just because youwouldn't drink and tell a lie to that little gal at home. I despise liars.Let me catch a body telling me a lie, I tell you--"

　　Here he lifted up his huge foot which was encased in a cowhide boot,something smaller than a canal-boat. He gave the table a kick which setall the spoons, knives and forks to dancing, spilt the milk and upset thegravy pot.

　　"Why, Mr. Middleton!" interposed his wife.

　　"I am sorry, honey," said he, "but I'll be hanged if that ar sling ain'tgettin' the better of the old man."

　　After supper was over and the effects of the sling had left Mr.Middleton's head, he inquired further into the intentions of his guests.On learning that Mr. Raymond would teach, if he could get the chance, Mr.Middleton said, "I reckon you can teach in Mr. Miller's school. I'll writeto him about you, and I reckon he can make room for you."

　　It was well for Raymond that Mr. Middleton did not observe his smile ofcontempt at the idea of being recommended by such an "old cur," as hesecretly styled him.

　　At a late hour Mr. Middleton conducted the young men to their room, sayingas they entered it, "This was Dick's room, poor dear boy! For his sake Iwish 'twas better, for it was sometimes cold like in the winter; but he'swarm enough now, I reckon, poor fellow!" So saying, he left the room; butStanton noticed upon the old tin candlestick which his host had put uponthe table something which looked very much like tears, so large that hewas sure no one but Mr. Middleton could have wept them.