A Ward Of Colonel Starbottle

by Bret Harte

  


A Ward Of Colonel StarbottleEmile Levy, Jules Barbey d'Aurevilly, 1882

  "The kernel seems a little off color to-day," said the barkeeper ashe replaced the whiskey decanter, and gazed reflectively after thedeparting figure of Colonel Starbottle."I didn't notice anything," said a bystander; "he passed the timeo' day civil enough to me.""Oh, he's allus polite enough to strangers and wimmin folk evenwhen he is that way; it's only his old chums, or them ez like to bethought so, that he's peppery with. Why, ez to that, after he'dhad that quo'll with his old partner, Judge Pratt, in one o' themspells, I saw him the next minit go half a block out of his way todirect an entire stranger; and ez for wimmin!--well, I reckon ifhe'd just got a head drawn on a man, and a woman spoke to him, he'ddrop his battery and take off his hat to her. No--ye can't judgeby that!"And perhaps in his larger experience the barkeeper was right. Hemight have added, too, that the colonel, in his general outwardbearing and jauntiness, gave no indication of his internalirritation. Yet he was undoubtedly in one of his "spells,"suffering from a moody cynicism which made him as susceptible ofaffront as he was dangerous in resentment.Luckily, on this particular morning he reached his office andentered his private room without any serious rencontre. Here heopened his desk, and arranging his papers, he at once set to workwith grim persistency. He had not been occupied for many minutesbefore the door opened to Mr. Pyecroft--one of a firm of attorneyswho undertook the colonel's office work."I see you are early to work, Colonel," said Mr. Pyecroftcheerfully."You see, sir," said the colonel, correcting him with a slowdeliberation that boded no good--"you see a Southern gentleman--blank it!--who has stood at the head of his profession for thirty-five years, obliged to work like a blank nigger, sir, in the dirtysquabbles of psalm-singing Yankee traders, instead of--er--attending to the affairs of--er--legislation!""But you manage to get pretty good fees out of it--Colonel?"continued Pyecroft, with a laugh."Fees, sir! Filthy shekels! and barely enough to satisfy a debt ofhonor with one hand, and wipe out a tavern score for theentertainment of--er--a few lady friends with the other!"This allusion to his losses at poker, as well as an oyster suppergiven to the two principal actresses of the "North Star Troupe,"then performing in the town, convinced Mr. Pyecroft that thecolonel was in one of his "moods," and he changed the subject."That reminds me of a little joke that happened in Sacramento lastweek. You remember Dick Stannard, who died a year ago--one of yourfriends?""I have yet to learn," interrupted the colonel, with the samedeadly deliberation, "what right HE--or ANYBODY--had to intimatethat he held such a relationship with me. Am I to understand, sir,that he--er--publicly boasted of it?""Don't know!" resumed Pyecroft hastily; "but it don't matter, forif he wasn't a friend it only makes the joke bigger. Well, hiswidow didn't survive him long, but died in the States t'other day,leavin' the property in Sacramento--worth about three thousanddollars--to her little girl, who is at school at Santa Clara. Thequestion of guardianship came up, and it appears that the widow--who only knew you through her husband--had, some time before herdeath, mentioned YOUR name in that connection! He! he!""What!" said Colonel Starbottle, starting up."Hold on!" said Pyecroft hilariously. "That isn't all! Neitherthe executors nor the probate judge knew you from Adam, and theSacramento bar, scenting a good joke, lay low and said nothing.Then the old fool judge said that 'as you appeared to be a lawyer,a man of mature years, and a friend of the family, you were aneminently fit person, and ought to be communicated with'--you knowhis hifalutin' style. Nobody says anything. So that the nextthing you'll know you'll get a letter from that executor asking youto look after that kid. Ha! ha! The boys said they could fancythey saw you trotting around with a ten year old girl holding on toyour hand, and the Senorita Dolores or Miss Bellamont looking on!Or your being called away from a poker deal some night by theinfant, singing, 'Gardy, dear gardy, come home with me now, theclock in the steeple strikes one!' And think of that old fooljudge not knowing you! Ha! ha!"A study of Colonel Starbottle's face during this speech would havepuzzled a better physiognomist than Mr. Pyecroft. His first lookof astonishment gave way to an empurpled confusion, from which asingle short Silenus-like chuckle escaped, but this quickly changedagain into a dull coppery indignation, and, as Pyecroft's laughcontinued, faded out into a sallow rigidity in which his murky eyesalone seemed to keep what was left of his previous high color. Butwhat was more singular, in spite of his enforced calm, something ofhis habitual old-fashioned loftiness and oratorical exaltationappeared to be returning to him as he placed his hand on hisinflated breast and faced Pyceroft."The ignorance of the executor of Mrs. Stannard and the--er--probate judge," he began slowly, "may be pardonable, Mr. Pyecroft,since his Honor would imply that, although unknown to HIMpersonally, I am at least amicus curiae in this question of--er--guardianship. But I am grieved--indeed I may say shocked--Mr.Pyecroft, that the--er--last sacred trust of a dying widow--perhapsthe holiest trust that can be conceived by man--the care andwelfare of her helpless orphaned girl--should be made the subjectof mirth, sir, by yourself and the members of the Sacramento bar!I shall not allude, sir, to my own feelings in regard to DickStannard, one of my most cherished friends," continued the colonel,in a voice charged with emotion, "but I can conceive of no noblertrust laid upon the altar of friendship than the care and guidanceof his orphaned girl! And if, as you tell me, the utterlyinadequate sum of three thousand dollars is all that is left forher maintenance through life, the selection of a guardiansufficiently devoted to the family to be willing to augment thatpittance out of his own means from time to time would seem to bemost important."Before the astounded Pyecroft could recover himself, ColonelStarbottle leaned back in his chair, half closing his eyes, andabandoned himself, quite after his old manner, to one of his dreamyreminiscences."Poor Dick Stannard! I have a vivid recollection, sir, of drivingout with him on the Shell Road at New Orleans in '54, and of hissaying, 'Star'--the only man, sir, who ever abbreviated my name--'Star, if anything happens to me or her, look after our child! Itwas during that very drive, sir, that, through his incautiousneglect to fortify himself against the swampy malaria by a glass ofstraight Bourbon with a pinch of bark in it, he caught that feverwhich undermined his constitution. Thank you, Mr. Pyecroft, for--er--recalling the circumstance. I shall," continued the colonel,suddenly abandoning reminiscence, sitting up, and arranging hispapers, "look forward with great interest to--er--letter from theexecutor."The next day it was universally understood that Colonel Starbottlehad been appointed guardian of Pansy Stannard by the probate judgeof Sacramento.There are of record two distinct accounts of Colonel Starbottle'sfirst meeting with his ward after his appointment as her guardian.One, given by himself, varying slightly at times, but alwaysbearing unvarying compliment to the grace, beauty, and singularaccomplishments of this apparently gifted child, was neverthelesscharacterized more by vague, dreamy reminiscences of the departedparents than by any personal experience of the daughter."I found the young lady, sir," he remarked to Mr. Pyecroft,"recalling my cherished friend Stannard in--er--form and features,and--although--er--personally unacquainted with her deceasedmother--who belonged, sir, to one of the first families ofVirginia--I am told that she is--er--remarkably like her. MissStannard is at present a pupil in one of the best educationalestablishments in Santa Clara, where she is receiving tuition in--er--the English classics, foreign belles lettres, embroidery, theharp, and--er--the use of the--er--globes, and--er--blackboard--under the most fastidious care, and my own personal supervision.The principal of the school, Miss Eudoxia Tish--associated with--er--er--Miss Prinkwell--is--er--remarkably gifted woman; and as Iwas present at one of the school exercises, I had the opportunityof testifying to her excellence in--er--short address I made to theyoung ladies." From such glittering but unsatisfying generalitiesas these I prefer to turn to the real interview, gathered fromcontemporary witnesses.It was the usual cloudless, dazzling, Californian summer day,tempered with the asperity of the northwest trades that Miss Tish,looking through her window towards the rose-embowered gateway ofthe seminary, saw an extraordinary figure advancing up the avenue.It was that of a man slightly past middle age, yet erect andjaunty, whose costume recalled the early water-color portraits ofher own youthful days. His tightly buttoned blue frock coat withgilt buttons was opened far enough across the chest to allow theexpanding of a frilled shirt, black stock, and nankeen waistcoat,and his immaculate white trousers were smartly strapped over hissmart varnished boots. A white bell-crowned hat, carried in hishand to permit the wiping of his forehead with a silk handkerchief,and a gold-headed walking stick hooked over his arm, completed thissingular equipment. He was followed, a few paces in the rear, by anegro carrying an enormous bouquet, and a number of small boxes andparcels tied up with ribbons. As the figure paused before thedoor, Miss Tish gasped, and cast a quick restraining glance aroundthe classroom. But it was too late; a dozen pairs of blue, black,round, inquiring, or mischievous eyes were already dancing andgloating over the bizarre stranger through the window."A cirkiss--or nigger minstrels--sure as you're born!" said MaryFrost, aged nine, in a fierce whisper."No!--a agent from 'The Emporium,' with samples," returned MissBriggs, aged fourteen."Young ladies, attend to your studies," said Miss Tish, as theservant brought in a card. Miss Tish glanced at it with somenervousness, and read to herself, "Colonel Culpeper Starbottle,"engraved in script, and below it in pencil, "To see Miss PansyStannard, under favor of Miss Tish." Rising with someperturbation, Miss Tish hurriedly intrusted the class to anassistant, and descended to the reception room. She had never seenPansy's guardian before (the executor had brought the child); andthis extraordinary creature, whose visit she could not deny, mightbe ruinous to school discipline. It was therefore with an extradegree of frigidity of demeanor that she threw open the door of thereception room, and entered majestically. But to her utterastonishment, the colonel met her with a bow so stately, soceremonious, and so commanding that she stopped, disarmed andspeechless."I need not ask if I am addressing Miss Tish," said the colonelloftily, "for without having the pleasure of--er--previousacquaintance, I can at once recognize the--er--Lady Superior and--er--chatelaine of this--er--establishment." Miss Tish here gaveway to a slight cough and an embarrassed curtsy, as the colonel,with a wave of his white hand towards the burden carried by hisfollower, resumed more lightly: "I have brought--er--few triflesand gewgaws for my ward--subject, of course, to your rules anddiscretion. They include some--er--dainties, free from anydeleterious substance, as I am informed--a sash--a ribbon or twofor the hair, gloves, mittens, and a nosegay--from which, I trust,it will be HER pleasure, as it is my own, to invite you to cullsuch blossoms as may suit your taste. Boy, you may set them downand retire!""At the present moment," stammered Miss Tish, "Miss Stannard isengaged on her lessons. But"-- She stopped again, hopelessly."I see," said the colonel, with an air of playful, poeticalreminiscence--"her lessons! Certainly!'We will--er--go to our places,With smiles on our faces,And say all our lessons distinctly and slow.'Certainly! Not for worlds would I interrupt them; until they aredone, we will--er--walk through the classrooms and inspect"--"No! no!" interrupted the horrified, principal, with a dreadfulpresentiment of the appalling effect of the colonel's entry uponthe class. "NoI mean--our rules exclude--except ondays of public examination"--"Say no more, my dear madam," said the colonel politely. "Untilshe is free I will stroll outside, through--er--the groves of theAcademus"--But Miss Tish, equally alarmed at the diversion this would createat the classroom windows, recalled herself with an effort. "Pleasewait here a moment," she said hurriedly; "I will bring her down;"and before the colonel could politely open the door for her, shehad fled.Happily unconscious of the sensation he had caused, ColonelStarbottle seated himself on the sofa, his white hands restingeasily on the gold-headed cane. Once or twice the door behind himopened and closed quietly, scarcely disturbing him; or again openedmore ostentatiously to the words, "Oh, excuse, please," and thebrief glimpse of a flaxen braid, or a black curly head--to all ofwhich the colonel nodded politely--even rising later to theapparition of a taller, demure young lady--and her more affected"Really, I beg your pardon!" The only result of this evidentcuriosity was slightly to change the colonel's attitude, so as toenable him to put his other hand in his breast in his favoritepose. But presently he was conscious of a more active movement inthe hall, of the sounds of scuffling, of a high youthful voicesaying "I won't" and "I shan't!" of the door opening to a momentaryapparition of Miss Tish dragging a small hand and half of a smallblack-ribboned arm into the room, and her rapid disappearanceagain, apparently pulled back by the little hand and arm; ofanother and longer pause, of a whispered conference outside, andthen the reappearance of Miss Tish majestically, reinforced andsupported by the grim presence of her partner, Miss Prinkwell."This--er--unexpected visit," began Miss Tish--"not previouslyarranged by letter"--"Which is an invariable rule of our establishment," supplementedMiss Prinkwell--"And the fact that you are personally unknown to us," continuedMiss Tish--"An ignorance shared by the child, who exhibits a distaste for aninterview," interpolated Miss Prinkwell, in a kind of antiphonalresponse--"For which we have had no time to prepare her," continued MissTish--"Compels us most reluctantly"-- But here she stopped short.Colonel Starbottle, who had risen with a deep bow at their entranceand remained standing, here walked quietly towards them. Hisusually high color had faded except from his eyes, but his exaltedmanner was still more pronounced, with a dreadful deliberationsuperadded."I believe--er--I had--the honah--to send up my kyard!" (In hissupreme moments the colonel's Southern accent was always inevidence.) "I may--er--be mistaken--but--er--that is myimpression." The colonel paused, and placed his right handstatuesquely on his heart.The two women trembled--Miss Tish fancied the very shirt frill ofthe colonel was majestically erecting itself--as they stammered inone voice,--"Ye-e-es!""That kyard contained my full name--with a request to see my ward--Miss Stannard," continued the colonel slowly. "I believe that isthe fact.""Certainly! certainly!" gasped the women feebly."Then may I--er--point out to you that I AM--er--WAITING?"Although nothing could exceed the laborious simplicity and huskysweetness of the colonel's utterance, it appeared to demoralizeutterly his two hearers--Miss Prinkwell seemed to fade into thepattern of the wall paper, Miss Tish to droop submissively forwardlike a pink wax candle in the rays of the burning sun."We will bring her instantly. A thousand pardons, sir," theyuttered in the same breath, backing towards the door.But here the unexpected intervened. Unnoticed by the three duringthe colloquy, a little figure in a black dress had peeped throughthe door, and then glided into the room. It was a girl of aboutten, who, in all candor, could scarcely be called pretty, althoughthe awkward change of adolescence had not destroyed the delicateproportions of her hands and feet nor the beauty of her brown eyes.These were, just then, round and wondering, and fixed alternatelyon the colonel and the two women. But like many other round andwondering eyes, they had taken in the full meaning of thesituation, with a quickness the adult mind is not apt to give themcredit for. They saw the complete and utter subjugation of the twosupreme autocrats of the school, and, I grieve to say, they werefilled with a secret and "fearful joy." But the casual spectatorsaw none of this; the round and wondering eyes, still rimmed withrecent and recalcitrant tears, only looked big and innocentlyshining.The relief of the two women was sudden and unaffected."Oh, here you are, dearest, at last!" said Miss Tish eagerly."This is your guardian, Colonel Starbottle. Come to him, dear!"She took the hand of the child, who hung back with an odd minglingof shamefacedness and resentment of the interference, when thevoice of Colonel Starbottle, in the same deadly calm deliberation,said,--"I--er--will speak with her--alone."The round eyes again saw the complete collapse of authority, as thetwo women shrank back from the voice, and said hurriedly,--"Certainly, Colonel Starbottle; perhaps it would be better," andingloriously quitted the room.But the colonel's triumph left him helpless. He was alone with asimple child, an unprecedented, unheard-of situation, which lefthim embarrassed and--speechless. Even his vanity was consciousthat his oratorical periods, his methods, his very attitude, werepowerless here. The perspiration stood out on his forehead; helooked at her vaguely, and essayed a feeble smile. The child sawhis embarrassment, even as she had seen and understood his triumph,and the small woman within her exulted. She put her little handson her waist, and with the fingers turned downwards and outwardspressed them down her hips to her bended knees until they hadforced her skirts into an egregious fullness before and behind, asif she were making a curtsy, and then jumped up and laughed."You did it! Hooray!""Did what?" said the colonel, pleased yet mystified."Frightened 'em!--the two old cats! Frightened 'em outen theirslippers! Oh, jiminy! Never, never, NEVER before was they soskeert! Never since school kept did they have to crawl like that!They was skeert enough FIRST when you come, but just now!-- Lordy!They wasn't a-goin' to let you see me--but they had to! had to! HADTO!" and she emphasized each repetition with a skip."I believe--er," said the colonel blandly, "that I--er--intimatedwith some firmness"--"That's it--just it!" interrupted the child delightedly. "You--you--overdid 'em""What?""OVERDID 'EM! Don't you know? They're always so high and mighty!Kinder 'Don't tech me. My mother's an angel; my father's a king'--all that sort of thing. They did THIS"--she drew herself up in apresumable imitation of the two women's majestic entrance--"andthen," she continued, "you--YOU jest did this"--here she lifted herchin, and puffing out her small chest, strode towards the colonelin evident simulation of his grandest manner.A short, deep chuckle escaped him--although the next moment hisface became serious again. But Pansy in the mean time had takenpossession of his coat sleeve and was rubbing her cheek against itlike a young colt. At which the colonel succumbed feebly and satdown on the sofa, the child standing beside him, leaning over andtransferring her little hands to the lapels of his frock coat,which she essayed to button over his chest as she looked into hismurky eyes."The other girls said," she began, tugging at the button, "that youwas a 'cirkiss'"--another tug--"'a nigger minstrel'"--and a thirdtug--"'a agent with samples'--but that showed all they knew!""Ah," said the colonel with exaggerated blandness, "and--er--whatdid YOU--er--say?"The child smiled. "I said you was a Stuffed Donkey--but that wasBEFORE I knew you. I was a little skeert too; but NOW"--shesucceeded in buttoning the coat and making the colonel quiteapoplectic,--"NOW I ain't frightened one bit--no, not one TINY bit!But," she added, after a pause, unbuttoning the coat again andsmoothing down the lapels between her fingers, "you're to keep onfrightening the old cats--mind! Never mind about the GIRLS. I'lltell them."The colonel would have given worlds to he able to struggle up intoan upright position with suitable oral expression. Not that hisvanity was at all wounded by these irresponsible epithets, whichonly excited an amused wonder, but he was conscious of anembarrassed pleasure in the child's caressing familiarity, and herperfect trustfulness in him touched his extravagant chivalry. Heought to protect her, and yet correct her. In the consciousness ofthese duties he laid his white hand upon her head. Alas! shelifted her arm and instantly transferred his hand and part of hisarm around her neck and shoulders, and comfortably snuggled againsthim. The colonel gasped. Nevertheless, something must be said,and he began, albeit somewhat crippled in delivery:--"The--er--use of elegant and precise language by--er--young ladiescannot be too sedulously cultivated"--But here the child laughed, and snuggling still closer, gurgled:"That's right! Give it to her when she comes down! That's thestyle!" and the colonel stopped, discomfited. Nevertheless, therewas a certain wholesome glow in the contact of this nestling littlefigure.Presently he resumed tentativery: "I have--er--brought you a fewdainties.""Yes," said Pansy, "I see; but they're from the wrong shop, youdear old silly! They're from Tomkins's, and we girls justabominate his things. You oughter have gone to Emmons's. Nevermind. I'll show you when we go out. We're going out, aren't we?"she said suddenly, lifting her head anxiously. "You know it'sallowed, and it's RIGHTS 'to parents and guardians'!""Certainly, certainly," said the colonel. He knew he would feel alittle less constrained in the open air."Then we'll go now," said Pansy, jumping up. "I'll just runupstairs and put on my things. I'll say it's 'orders' from you.And I'll wear my new frock--it's longer." (The colonel wasslightly relieved at this; it had seemed to him, as a guardian,that there was perhaps an abnormal display of Pansy's blackstockings.) "You wait; I won't be long."She darted to the door, but reaching it, suddenly stopped, returnedto the sofa, where the colonel still sat, imprinted a swift kiss onhis mottled cheek, and fled, leaving him invested with a mingledflavor of freshly ironed muslin, wintergreen lozenges, and recentbread and butter. He sat still for some time, staring out of thewindow. It was very quiet in the room; a bumblebee blundered fromthe jasmine outside into the open window, and snored loudly at thepanes. But the colonel heeded it not, and remained abstracted andsilent until the door opened to Miss Tish and Pansy--in her bestfrock and sash, at which the colonel started and became erect againand courtly."I am about to take my ward out," he said deliberately, "to--er--taste the air in the Alameda, and--er--view the shops. We may--er--also--indulge in--er--slight suitable refreshment;--er--seed cake--or--bread and butter--and--a dish of tea."Miss Tish, now thoroughly subdued, was delighted to grant MissStannard the half holiday permitted on such occasions. She beggedthe colonel to suit his own pleasure, and intrusted "the dearchild" to her guardian "with the greatest confidence."The colonel made a low bow, and Pansy, demurely slipping her handinto his, passed with him into the hall; there was a slight rustleof vanishing skirts, and Pansy pressed his hand significantly.When they were well outside, she said, in a lower voice:--"Don't look up until we're under the gymnasium windows." Thecolonel, mystified but obedient, strutted on. "Now!" said Pansy.He looked up, beheld the windows aglow with bright young faces, andbewildering with many handkerchiefs and clapping hands, stopped,and then taking off his hat, acknowledged the salute with asweeping bow. Pansy was delighted. "I knew they'd be there; I'dalready fixed 'em. They're just dyin' to know you."The colonel felt a certain glow of pleasure, "I--er--had alreadyintimated a--er--willingness to--er--inspect the classes; but--I--er--understood that the rules"--"They're sick old rules," interrupted the child. "Tish andPrinkwell are the rules! You say just right out that you WILL!Just overdo her!"The colonel had a vague sense that he ought to correct both thespirit and language of this insurrectionary speech, but Pansypulled him along, and then swept him quite away with a torrent ofprattle of the school, of her friends, of the teachers, of her lifeand its infinitely small miseries and pleasures. Pansy wasvoluble; never before had the colonel found himself relegated tothe place of a passive listener. Nevertheless, he liked it, and asthey passed on, under the shade of the Alameda, with Pansyalternately swinging from his hand and skipping beside him, therewas a vague smile of satisfaction on his face. Passers-by turnedto look after the strangely assorted pair, or smiled, acceptingthem, as the colonel fancied, as father and daughter. An oddfeeling, half of pain and half of pleasure, gripped at the heart ofthe empty and childless man.And now, as they approached the more crowded thoroughfares, theinstinct of chivalrous protection was keen in his breast. Hepiloted her skillfully; he jauntily suited his own to her skippingstep; he lifted her with scrupulous politeness over obstacles;strutting beside her on crowded pavements, he made way for her withhis swinging stick. All the while, too, he had taken note of theeasy carriage of her head and shoulders, and most of all of hersmall, slim feet and hands, that, to his fastidious taste,betokened her race. "Ged, sir," he muttered to himself, "she's'Blue Grass' stock, all through." To admiration succeeded pride,with a slight touch of ownership. When they went into a shop,which, thanks to the ingenuous Pansy, they did pretty often, hewould introduce her with a wave of the hand and the remark, "I am--er--seeking nothing to-day, but if you will kindly--er--serve myWARD--Miss Stannard!" Later, when they went into theconfectioner's for refreshment, and Pansy frankly declared for "icecream and cream cakes," instead of the "dish of tea and bread andbutter" he had ordered in pursuance of his promise, he heroicallytook it himself--to satisfy his honor. Indeed, I know of no moresublime figure than Colonel Starbottle--rising superior to a long-withstood craving for a "cocktail," morbidly conscious also of theridiculousness of his appearance to any of his old associates whomight see him--drinking luke-warm tea and pecking feebly at hisbread and butter at a small table, beside his little tyrant.And this domination of the helpless continued on their way home.Although Miss Pansy no longer talked of herself, she was equallyvoluble in inquiry as to the colonel's habits, ways of life,friends and acquaintances, happily restricting her interrogations,in regard to those of her own sex, to "any LITTLE girls that heknew." Saved by this exonerating adjective, the colonel saw here achance to indulge his postponed monitorial duty, as well as hisvivid imagination. He accordingly drew elaborate pictures ofimpossible children he had known--creatures precise in language anddress, abstinent of play and confectionery, devoted to lessons andduties, and otherwise, in Pansy's own words, "loathsome to the lastdegree!" As "daughters of oldest and most cherished friends," theymight perhaps have excited Pansy's childish jealousy but for thesingular fact that they had all long ago been rewarded by marriagewith senators, judges, and generals--also associates of thecolonel. This remoteness of presence somewhat marred their effectas an example, and the colonel was mortified, though not entirelydispleased, to observe that their surprising virtues did notdestroy Pansy's voracity for sweets, the recklessness of herskipping, nor the freedom of her language. The colonel wasremorseful--but happy.When they reached the seminary again, Pansy retired with hervarious purchases, but reappeared after an interval with Miss Tish."I remember," hesitated that lady, trembling under the fascinationof the colonel's profound bow, "that you were anxious to look overthe school, and although it was not possible then, I shall be gladto show you now through one of the classrooms."The colonel, glancing at Pansy, was momentarily shocked by adistortion of one side of her face, which seemed, however, to endin a wink of her innocent brown eyes, but recovering himself,gallantly expressed his gratitude. The next moment he wasascending the stairs, side by side with Miss Tish, and had adistinct impression that he had been pinched in the calf by Pansy,who was following close behind.It was recess, but the large classroom was quite filled withpupils, many of them older and prettier girls, inveigled there, asit afterwards appeared, by Pansy, in some precocious presentimentof her guardian's taste. The colonel's apologetic yet gallant bowon entering, and his erect, old-fashioned elegance, instantly tooktheir delighted attention. Indeed, all would have gone well hadnot Miss Prinkwell, with the view of impressing the colonel as wellas her pupils, majestically introduced him as "a distinguishedjurist deeply interested in the cause of education, as well asguardian of their fellow pupil." That opportunity was not thrownaway on Colonel Starbottle.Stepping up to the desk of the astounded principal, he laid thepoints of his fingers delicately upon it, and, with a preparatoryinclination of his head towards her, placed his other hand in hisbreast, and with an invocatory glance at the ceiling, began.It was the colonel's habit at such moments to state at first, withgreat care and precision, the things that he "would not say," thathe "NEED not say," and apparently that it was absolutelyunnecessary even to allude to. It was therefore, not strange thatthe colonel informed them that he need not say that he counted hispresent privilege among the highest that had been granted him; forbesides the privilege of beholding the galaxy of youthful talentand excellence before him, besides the privilege of beingsurrounded by a garland of the blossoms of the school in all theirfreshness and beauty, it was well understood that he had thegreater privilege of--er--standing in loco parentis to one of theseblossoms. It was not for him to allude to the high trust imposedupon him by--er--deceased and cherished friend, and daughter of oneof the first families of Virginia, by the side of one who must feelthat she was the recipient of trusts equally supreme (here thecolonel paused, and statuesquely regarded the alarmed MissPrinkwell as if he were in doubt of it), but he would say that itshould be HIS devoted mission to champion the rights of theorphaned and innocent whenever and wherever the occasion arose,against all odds, and even in the face of misguided authority.(Having left the impression that Miss Prinkwell contemplated aninvasion of those rights, the colonel became more lenient andgenial.) He fully recognized her high and noble office; he saw inher the worthy successor of those two famous instructresses ofAthens--those Greek ladies--er--whose names had escaped his memory,but which--er--no doubt Miss Prinkwell would be glad to recall toher pupils, with some account of their lives. (Miss Prinkwellcolored; she had never heard of them before, and even the delightof the class in the colonel's triumph was a little dampened by thisprospect of hearing more about them.) But the colonel was only toocontent with seeing before him these bright and beautiful faces,destined, as he firmly believed, in after years to lend their charmand effulgence to the highest places as the happy helpmeets of thegreatest in the land. He was--er--leaving a--er--slighttestimonial of his regard in the form of some--er--innocentrefreshments in the hands of his ward, who would--er--act as--er--his proxy in their distribution; and the colonel sat down to theflutter of handkerchiefs, an applause only half restrained, and theutter demoralization of Miss Prinkwell.But the time of his departure had come by this time, and he was tooexperienced a public man to risk the possibility of an anticlimaxby protracting his leave-taking. And in an ominous shining ofPansy's big eyes as the time approached he felt an embarrassment asperplexing as the odd presentiment of loneliness that was creepingover him. But with an elaborate caution as to the dangers of self-indulgence, and the private bestowal of a large gold piece slippedinto her hand, a promise to come again soon, and an exaction thatshe would write to him often, the colonel received in return a wetkiss, a great deal of wet cheek pressed against his own, and amomentary tender clinging, like that which attends the pulling upof some small flower, as he passed out into the porch. In thehall, on the landing above him, there was a close packing of briefskirts against the railing, and a voice, apparently proceeding froma pair of very small mottled legs protruding through the balusters,said distinctly, "Free cheers for Ternel Tarbottle!" And to thisbenediction the colonel, hat in hand, passed out of this Eden intothe world again.The colonel's next visit to the seminary did not produce the samesensation as the first, although it was accompanied with equaldisturbance to the fair principals. Had he been a less conceitedman he might have noticed that their antagonism, although held inrestraint by their wholesome fear of him, was in danger of becomingmore a conviction than a mere suspicion. He was made aware of itthrough Pansy's resentment towards them, and her revelation of acertain inquisition that she had been subjected to in regard to hisoccupation, habits, and acquaintances. Naturally of these thingsPansy knew very little, but this had not prevented her from sayinga great deal. There had been enough in her questioners' manner tomake her suspect that her guardian was being attacked, and to hisdefense she brought the mendacity and imagination of a cleverchild. What she had really said did not transpire except throughher own comments to the colonel: "And of course you've killedpeople--for you're a kernel, you know?" (Here the coloneladmitted, as a point of fact, that he had served in the Mexicanwar.) "And you kin PREACH, for they heard you do it when you washere before," she added confidently; "and of course you ownniggers--for there's 'Jim.'" (The colonel here attempted toexplain that Jim, being in a free State, was now a free man, butPansy swept away such fine distinctions.) "And you're rich, youknow, for you gave me that ten-dollar gold piece all for myself.So I jest gave 'em as good as they sent--the old spies andcuriosity shops!" The colonel, more pleased at Pansy's devotionthan concerned over the incident itself, accepted thisinterpretation of his character as a munificent, militant priestwith a smiling protest. But a later incident caused him toremember it more seriously.They had taken their usual stroll through the Alameda, and had madethe round of the shops, where the colonel had exhibited his usualliberality of purchase and his exalted parental protection, and sohad passed on to their usual refreshment at the confectioner's, theusual ices and cakes for Pansy, but this time--a concession also tothe tyrant Pansy--a glass of lemon soda and a biscuit for thecolonel. He was coughing over his unaccustomed beverage, andPansy, her equanimity and volubility restored by sweets, waschirruping at his side; the large saloon was filling up withcustomers--mainly ladies and children, embarrassing to him as theonly man present, when suddenly Pansy's attention was diverted byanother arrival. It was a good-looking young woman, overdressed,striking, and self-conscious, who, with an air of one who was inthe habit of challenging attention, affectedly seated herself witha male companion at an empty table, and began to pull off anovertight glove."My!" said Pansy in admiring wonder, "ain't she fine?"Colonel Starbottle looked up abstractedly, but at the first glancehis face flushed redly, deepened to a purple, and then became grayand stern. He had recognized in the garish fair one Miss FloraMontague, the "Western Star of Terpsichore and Song," with whom hehad supped a few days before at Sacramento. The lady was "on tour"with her "Combination troupe."The colonel leaned over and fixed his murky eyes on Pansy. "Theroom is filling up; the place is stifling; I must--er--request youto--er--hurry."There was a change in the colonel's manner, which the quick-wittedchild heeded. But she had not associated it with the entrance ofthe strangers, and as she obediently gulped down her ice, she wenton innocently,--"That fine lady's smilin' and lookin' over here. Seems to knowyou; so does the man with her.""I--er--must request you," said the colonel, with husky precision,"NOT to look that way, but finish your--er--repast."His tone was so decided that the child's lips pouted, but beforeshe could speak a shadow leaned over their table. It was thecompanion of the "fine lady.""Don't seem to see us, Colonel," he said with coarse familiarity,laying his hand on the colonel's shoulder. "Florry wants to knowwhat's up."The colonel rose at the touch. "Tell her, sir," he said huskily,but with slow deliberation, "that I 'am up' and leaving this placewith my ward, Miss Stannard. Good-morning." He lifted Pansy withinfinite courtesy from her chair, took her hand, strolled to thecounter, threw down a gold piece, and passing the table of theastonished fair one with an inflated breast, swept with Pansy outof the shop. In the street he paused, bidding the child go on; andthen, finding he was not followed by the woman's escort, rejoinedhis little companion.For a few moments they walked silently side by side. Then Pansy'scuriosity, getting the better of her pout, demanded information.She had applied a child's swift logic to the scene. The colonelwas angry, and had punished the woman for something. She drewcloser to his side, and looking up with her big eyes, saidconfidentially."What had she been a-doing?"The colonel was amazed, embarrassed, and speechless. He wastotally unprepared for the question, and as unable to answer it.His abrupt departure from the shop had been to evade the very truthnow demanded of him. Only a supreme effort of mendacity was lefthim. He wiped his brow with his handkerchief, coughed, and begandeliberately:--"The--er--lady in question is in the habit of using a scent called--er--patchouli, a--er--perfume exceedingly distressing to me. Idetected it instantly on her entrance. I wished to avoid it--without further contact. It is--er--singular but accepted factthat some people are--er--peculiarly affected by odors. I had--er--old cherished friend who always--er--fainted at the odor ofjasmine; and I was intimately acquainted with General Bludyer, who--er--dropped like a shot on the presentation of a simple violet.The--er--habit of using such perfumes excessively in public,"continued the colonel, looking down upon the innocent Pansy, andspeaking in tones of deadly deliberation, "cannot be too greatlycondemned, as well as the habit of--er--frequenting places ofpublic resort in extravagant costumes, with--er--individuals who--er--intrude upon domestic privacy. I trust you will eschew suchperfumes, places, costumes, and--er--companions FOREVER and--ON ALLOCCASIONS!" The colonel had raised his voice to his forensicemphasis, and Pansy, somewhat alarmed, assented. Whether sheentirely accepted the colonel's explanation was another matter.The incident, although not again alluded to, seemed to shadow therest of their brief afternoon holiday, and the colonel's manner wasunmistakably graver. But it seemed to the child more affectionateand thoughtful. He had previously at parting submitted to bekissed by Pansy with stately tolerance and an immediate resumptionof his loftiest manner. On this present leave-taking he laid hisstraight closely shaven lips on the crown of her dark head, and asher small arms clipped his neck, drew her closely to his side. Thechild uttered a slight cry; the colonel hurriedly put his hand tohis breast. Her round cheek had come in contact with hisderringer--a small weapon of beauty and precision--which invariablynestled also at his side, in his waistcoat pocket. The childlaughed; so did the colonel, but his cheek flushed mightily.It was four months later, and a turbulent night. The early rains,driven by a strong southwester against the upper windows of theMagnolia Restaurant, sometimes blurred the radiance of the brightlights within, and the roar of the encompassing pines at timesdrowned the sounds of song and laughter that rose from a privatesupper room. Even the clattering arrival and departure of theSacramento stage coach, which disturbed the depths below, did notaffect these upper revelers. For Colonel Starbottle, Jack Hamlin,Judge Beeswinger, and Jo Wynyard, assisted by Mesdames Montague,Montmorency, Bellefield, and "Tinky" Clifford, of the "Western StarCombination Troupe," then performing "on tour," were holding "highjinks" in the supper room. The colonel had been of late moody,irritable, and easily upset. In the words of a friend and admirer,"he was kam only at twelve paces."In a lull in the general tumult a Chinese waiter was seen at thedoor vainly endeavoring to attract the attention of the colonel bysigns and interjections. Mr. Hamlin's quick eye first caught sightof the intruder. "Come in, Confucius," said Jack pleasantly;"you're a trifle late for a regular turn, but any little thing inthe way of knife swallowing"--"Lill missee to see connle! Waitee waitee, bottom side housee,"interrupted the Chinaman, dividing his speech between Jack and thecolonel."What! ANOTHER lady? This is no place for me!" said Jack, risingwith finely simulated decorum."Ask her up," chirped "Tinky" Clifford.But at this moment the door opened against the Chinaman, and asmall figure in a cloak and hat, dripping with raindrops, glidedswiftly in. After a moment's half-frightened, half-admiring glanceat the party, she darted forward with a little cry and threw herwet arms round the colonel. The rest of the company, arrested intheir festivity, gasped with vague and smiling wonder; the colonelbecame purple and gasped. But only for a moment. The next instanthe was on his legs, holding the child with one hand, while with theother he described a stately sweep of the table."My ward--Miss Pansy Stannard," he said with husky brevity. Butdrawing the child aside, he whispered quickly, "What has happened?Why are you here?"But Pansy, child-like, already diverted by the lights, the tablepiled with delicacies, the gayly dressed women, and the air offestivity, answered half abstractedly, and as much, perhaps, to thecurious eyes about her as to the colonel's voice,--"I runned away!""Hush!" whispered the colonel, aghast.But Pansy, responding again to the company rather than herguardian's counsel, and as if appealing to them, went on halfpoutingly: "Yes! I runned away because they teased me! Becausethey didn't like you and said horrid things. Because they toldawful, dreadful lies! Because they said I wasn't no orphan!--thatmy name wasn't Stannard, and that you'd made it all up. Becausethey said I was a liar--and YOU WAS MY FATHER!"A sudden outbreak of laughter here shook the room, and even drownedthe storm outside; again and again it rose, as the colonelstaggered gaspingly to his feet. For an instant it seemed as ifhis struggles to restrain himself would end in an apoplectic fit.Perhaps it was for this reason that Jack Hamlin checked his ownlight laugh and became alert and grave. Yet the next momentColonel Starbottle went as suddenly dead white, as leaning over thetable he said huskily, but deliberately, "I must request the ladiespresent to withdraw.""Don't mind US, Colonel," said Judge Beeswinger, "it's all in thefamily here, you know! And now I look at the girl--hang it all!she DOES favor you, old man. Ha! ha!""And as for the ladies," said Wynyard with a weak, vinous laugh,"unless any of 'em is inclined to take the matter as PERSONAL--eh?""Stop!" roared the colonel.There was no mistaking his voice nor his intent now. The two men,insulted and instantly sobered, were silent. Mr. Hamlin rose,playfully but determinedly tapped his fair companions on theshoulders, saying, "Run away and play, girls," actually bundledthem, giggling and protesting, from the room, closed the door, andstood with his back against it. Then it was seen that the colonel,still very white, was holding the child by the hand, as she shrankback wonderingly and a little frightened against him."I thank YOU, Mr. Hamlin," said the colonel in a lower voice--yetwith a slight touch of his habitual stateliness in it, "for beinghere to bear witness, in the presence of this child, to myunqualified statement that a more foul, vile, and iniquitousfalsehood never was uttered than that which has been poured intoher innocent ears!" He paused, walked to the door, still holdingher hand, and, as Mr. Hamlin stepped aside, opened it, told her toawait him in the public parlor, closed the door again, and oncemore faced the two men. "And," he continued more deliberately,"for the infamous jests that you, Judge Beeswinger, and you, Mr.Wynyard, have dared to pass in her presence and mine, I shallexpect from each of you the fullest satisfaction--personalsatisfaction. My seconds will wait on you in the morning!"The two men stood up sobered--yet belligerent."As you like, sir," said Beeswinger, flashing."The sooner the better for me," added Wynyard curtly.They passed the unruffled Jack Hamlin with a smile and a vaguelysignificant air, as if calling him as a witness to the colonel'smadness, and strode out of the room.As the door closed behind them, Mr. Hamlin lightly settled hiswhite waistcoat, and, with his hands on his hips, lounged towardsthe colonel. "And THEN?" he said quietly."Eh?" said the colonel."After you've shot one or both of these men, or one of 'em hasknocked you out, what's to become of that child?""If--I am--er--spared, sir," said the colonel huskily, "I shallcontinue to defend her--against calumny and sneers"--"In this style, eh? After her life has been made a hell by herassociation with a man of your reputation, you propose to whitewashit by a quarrel with a couple of drunken scallawags like Beeswingerand Wynyard, in the presence of three painted trollops and a d----dscamp like myself! Do you suppose this won't be blown all overCalifornia before she can be sent back to school? Do you supposethose cackling hussies in the next room won't give the whole storyaway to the next man who stands treat?" (A fine contempt for thesex in general was one of Mr. Hamlin's most subtle attractions forthem.)"Nevertheless, sir," stammered the colonel, "the prompt punishmentof the man who has dared"--"Punishment!" interrupted Hamlin, "who's to punish the man who hasdared most? The one man who is responsible for the whole thing?Who's to punish YOU?""Mr. Hamlin--sir!" gasped the colonel, falling back, as his handinvoluntarily rose to the level of his waistcoat pocket and hisderringer.But Mr. Hamlin only put down the wine glass he had lifted from thetable and was delicately twirling between his fingers, and lookedfixedly at the colonel."Look here," he said slowly. "When the boys said that you acceptedthe guardianship of that child NOT on account of Dick Stannard, butonly as a bluff against the joke they'd set up at you, I didn'tbelieve them! When these men and women to-night tumbled to thatstory of the child being YOURS, I didn't believe that! When it wassaid by others that you were serious about making her your ward,and giving her your property, because you doted on her like afather, I didn't believe that.""And--why not THAT?" said the colonel quickly, yet with an oddtremor in his voice."Because," said Hamlin, becoming suddenly as grave as the colonel,"I could not believe that any one who cared a picayune for thechild could undertake a trust that might bring her into contactwith a life and company as rotten as ours. I could not believethat even the most God-forsaken, conceited fool would, for the sakeof a little sentimental parade and splurge among people outside hisregular walk, allow the prospects of that child to be blasted. Icouldn't believe it, even if he thought he was acting like afather. I didn't believe it--but I'm beginning to believe it now!"There was little to choose between the attitudes and expressions ofthe two set stern faces now regarding each other, silently, a footapart. But the colonel was the first to speak:--"Mr. Hamlin--sir! You said a moment ago that I was--er--ahem--responsible for this evening's affair--but you expressed a doubt asto who could--er--punish me for it. I accept the responsibilityyou have indicated, sir, and offer you that chance. But as thismatter between us must have precedence over--my engagements withthat canaille, I shall expect you with your seconds at sunrise onBurnt Ridge. Good-evening, sir."With head erect the colonel left the room. Mr. Hamlin slightlyshrugged his shoulders, turned to the door of the room whither hehad just banished the ladies, and in a few minutes his voice washeard melodiously among the gayest.For all that he managed to get them away early. When he hadbundled them into a large carryall, and watched them drive awaythrough the storm, he returned for a minute to the waiting room forhis overcoat. He was surprised to hear the sound of the child'svoice in the supper room, and the door being ajar, he could seequite distinctly that she was seated at the table, with a platefull of sweets before her, while Colonel Starbottle, with his backto the door, was sitting opposite to her, his shoulders slightlybowed as he eagerly watched her. It seemed to Mr. Hamlin that itwas the close of an emotional interview, for Pansy's voice wasbroken, partly by sobs, and partly, I grieve to say, by the hurriedswallowing of the delicacies before her. Yet, above the beating ofthe storm outside, he could hear her saying,--"Yes! I promise to be good--(sob)--and to go with Mrs. Pyecroft--(sob)--and to try to like another guardian--(sob)--and not to cryany more--(sob)--and--oh, please, DON'T YOU DO IT EITHER!"But here Mr. Hamlin slipped out of the room and out of the house,with a rather grave face. An hour later, when the colonel drove upto the Pyecrofts' door with Pansy, he found that Mr. Pyecroft wasslightly embarrassed, and a figure, which, in the darkness, seemedto resemble Mr. Hamlin's, had just emerged from the door as heentered.Yet the sun was not up on Burnt Ridge earlier than Mr. Hamlin. Thestorm of the night before had blown itself out; a few shreds ofmist hung in the valleys from the Ridge, that lay above coldlyreddening. Then a breeze swept over it, and out of the dissipatingmist fringe Mr. Hamlin saw two black figures, closely buttoned uplike himself, emerge, which he recognized as Beeswinger andWynyard, followed by their seconds. But the colonel came not,Hamlin joined the others in an animated confidential conversation,attended by a watchful outlook for the missing adversary. Five,ten minutes elapsed, and yet the usually prompt colonel was notthere. Mr. Hamlin looked grave; Wynyard and Beeswinger exchangedinterrogatory glances. Then a buggy was seen driving furiously upthe grade, and from it leaped Colonel Starbottle, accompanied byDick MacKinstry, his second, carrying his pistol case. And then--strangely enough for men who were waiting the coming of anantagonist who was a dead shot--they drew a breath of relief!MacKinstry slightly preceded his principal, and the others couldsee that Starbottle, though erect, was walking slowly. They weresurprised also to observe that he was haggard and hollow eyed, andseemed, in the few hours that had elapsed since they last saw him,to have aged ten years. MacKinstry, a tall Kentuckian, saluted,and was the first one to speak."Colonel Starbottle," he said formally, "desires to express hisregrets at this delay, which was unavoidable, as he was obliged toattend his ward, who was leaving by the down coach for Sacramentowith Mrs. Pyecroft, this morning." Hamlin, Wynyard, and Beeswingerexchanged glances. "Colonel Starbottle," continued MacKinstry,turning to his principal, "desires to say a word to Mr. Hamlin."As Mr. Hamlin would have advanced from the group, ColonelStarbottle lifted his hand deprecatingly. "What I have to say mustbe said before these gentlemen," he began slowly. "Mr. Hamlin--sir! when I solicited the honor of this meeting I was under agrievous misapprehension of the intent and purpose of your commentson my action last evening. I think," he added, slightly inflatinghis buttoned-up figure, "that the reputation I have always bornein--er--meetings of this kind will prevent any--er--misunderstandingof my present action--which is to--er--ask permission to withdrawmy challenge--and to humbly beg your pardon."The astonishment produced by this unexpected apology, and Mr.Hamlin's prompt grasp of the colonel's hand, had scarcely passedbefore the colonel drew himself up again, and turning to his secondsaid, "And now I am at the service of Judge Beeswinger and Mr.Wynyard--whichever may elect to honor me first."But the two men thus addressed looked for a moment strangelyfoolish and embarrassed. Yet the awkwardness was at last broken byJudge Beeswinger frankly advancing towards the colonel with anoutstretched hand. "We came here only to apologize, ColonelStarbottle. Without possessing your reputation and experience inthese matters, we still think we can claim, as you have, an equalexemption from any misunderstanding when we say that we deeplyregret our foolish and discourteous conduct last evening."A quick flush mounted to the colonel's haggard cheek as he drewback with a suspicious glance at Hamlin."Mr. Hamlinif this is--er--!"But before he could finish his sentence Hamlin had clapped his handon the colonel's shoulder. "You'll take my word, colonel, thatthese gentlemen honestly intended to apologize, and came here forthat purpose;--and--SO DID I--only you anticipated me!"In the laughter that followed Mr. Hamlin's frankness the colonel'sfeatures relaxed grimly, and he shook the hands of his latepossible antagonists."And now," said Mr. Hamlin gayly, "you'll all adjourn to breakfastwith me--and try to make up for the supper we left unfinished lastnight."It was the only allusion to that interruption and its consequences,for during the breakfast the colonel said nothing in regard to hisward, and the other guests were discreetly reticent. But Mr.Hamlin was not satisfied. He managed to get the colonel's servant,Jim, aside, and extracted from the negro that Colonel Starbottlehad taken the child that night to Pyecroft's; that he had had along interview with Pyecroft; had written letters and 'walked deflo'" all night; that he (Jim) was glad the child was gone!"Why?" asked Hamlin, with affected carelessness."She was just makin' de kernel like any o' de low-down No'th'nfolks--keerful, and stingy, and mighty 'fraid o' de opinions o' debiggety people. And fo' what? Jess to strut round wid dat childlike he was her 'spectable go to meeting fader!""And was the child sorry to leave him?" asked Hamlin."Wull--no, sah. De mighty curos thing, Marse Jack, about the gals--big and little--is dey just USE de kernel--dat's all! Dey justuse de ole man like a pole to bring down deir persimmons--see?"But Mr. Hamlin did not smile.Later it was known that Colonel Starbottle had resigned hisguardianship with the consent of the court. Whether he ever againsaw his late ward was not known, nor if he remained loyal to hismemories of her.Readers of these chronicles may, however, remember that yearsafter, when the colonel married the widow of a certain Mr.Tretherick, both in his courtship and his short married life he wassingularly indifferent to the childish graces of Carrie Tretherick,her beloved little daughter, and that his obtuseness in thatrespect provoked the widow's ire.



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