Not at Home
Jonas Bebee has one merit, if he possesses no other, and that is,the merit of being able to make himself completely at home with allhis friends, male or female, high or low, rich or poor, under anyand all circumstances. His good opinion of himself leaves no roomfor his imagination to conceive the idea, that possibly there maybe, in his character, certain peculiarities not agreeable to all. Itnever occurs to him, that he may chance to make a mal aproposvisit, nor that the prolongation of a call may be a seriousannoyance; for he is so entirely satisfied with himself that he issure every one else must feel his presence as a kind of sunshine.Of course, such being the character of Mr. Jonas Bebee, it mayreadily be inferred that he is very likely to commit an occasionalmistake, and blunder, though unconsciously, into the commission ofacts most terribly annoying to others. His evening calls upon ladiesgenerally produce a marked effect upon those specially selected forthe favor. The character of the effect will appear in the followinglittle scene, which we briefly sketch--"Gentleman in the parlor," says a servant coming into a room wheretwo or three young ladies sit sewing or reading."Who is he?" is the natural inquiry."Mr. Bebee.""Goodness!""Say we are not at home, Kitty.""No--no, Kitty, you mustn't say that," interposes one. "Tell him theladies will be down in a little while."Kitty accordingly retires."I'm not going down," says one, more self willed and independentthan the rest.You've as much right to be annoyed with him as we have," is repliedto this."I don't care.""I wish he'd stay away from here. Nobody wants him.""He's after you, Aggy.""After me!" replied Agnes. "Goodness knows I don't want him. I hatethe very sight of him!""It's no use fretting ourselves over the annoyance, we've got toendure it," says one of the young ladies. "So, come, let's put onthe best face possible.""You can go, Cara, if you choose, but I'm in no hurry; nor will hebe in any haste to go. Say to him that I'll be along in the courseof half an hour.""No, you must all make your own apologies."In the meantime Mr. Bebee patiently awaits the arrival of theladies, who make their appearance, one after the other, some timeduring the next half hour. He compliments them, asks them to singand play, and leads the conversation until towards eleven o'clock,when he retires in the best possible humor with himself and theinteresting young ladies favored with his presence. He has not evena distant suspicion of the real truth, that his visit was consideredan almost unendurable infliction.Mr. Bebee's morning calls are often more unwelcome. He walks in, asa matter of course, takes his seat in the parlor, and sends up hisname by the servant. If told that the lady is not at home, asuspicion that it may not be so does not cross his mind; for hecannot imagine it possible that any one would make such an excuse inorder to avoid seeing him. Should the lady not be willing to utteran untruth, nor feel independent enough to send word that she isengaged, an hour's waste of time, at least, must be her penalty; forMr. Bebee's morning calls are never of shorter duration. He knows,as well as any one, that visits of politeness should be brief; buthe is on such familiar terms with all his friends, that he can waiveall ceremony--and he generally does so, making himself "at home," ashe says, wherever he goes.One day Mr. Jonas Bebee recollected that he had not called upon acertain Mrs. Fairview, for some weeks; and as the lady was, likemost of his acquaintances, a particular friend, he felt that he wasneglecting her. So he started forth to make her a call.It was Saturday, and Mrs. Fairview, after having been, for thegreater part of the morning, in the kitchen making cake, came up tothe parlor to dust and re-arrange some of the articles there alittle more to her liking. Her hair was in papers, and her morningwrapper not in a very elegant condition, having suffered a littleduring the cake-making process. It was twelve o'clock, and Mrs.Fairview was about leaving the parlor, when some one rung the bell.Gliding noiselessly to the window, she obtained a view of Mr. Bebee."O, dear!" she sighed, "am I to have this infliction to-day? Butit's no use; I won't see him!"By this time the servant was moving along the passage towards thedoor."Hannah!" called the lady, in a whisper, beckoning at the same timewith her hand.Hannah came into the parlor."Say I'm not at home, Hannah.""Yes, ma'am," replied the girl, who proceeded on towards the streetdoor, while Mrs. Fairview remained in the parlor."Is Mrs. Fairview in?" the latter heard the visitor ask."No, sir," replied Hannah."Not in?""No, sir. She's gone out."By this time Mr. Bebee stood within the vestibule."O, well; I reckon I'll just drop in and wait awhile. No doubtshe'll be home, soon.""I don't think she will return before two o'clock," said Hannah,knowing that her mistress, looking more like a scarecrow than agenteel lady, was still in the parlor, and seeing that the visiterwas disposed to pass her by and make himself a temporary occupant ofthe same room."No matter," returned the gentleman, "I'll just step in for a littlewhile and enjoy myself by the parlor fire. It's a bitter coldday--perhaps she will be home sooner.""O, no, sir. She told me that she would not come back untildinner-time," said the anxious Hannah, who fully appreciated thedilemma in which her mistress would find herself, should Mr. Bebeemake his way into the parlor."It's no consequence. You can just say to her, if she does notreturn while I am here, that I called and made myself at home forhalf an hour or so." And with this, Mr. Bebee passed by the girl,and made his way towards the parlor.In despair, Hannah ran back to her place in the kitchen, wonderingwhat her mistress would say or do when Mr. Bebee found that she wasat home--and, moreover, in such a plight!In the meantime, Mrs. Fairview, who had been eagerly listening towhat passed between Hannah and the visiter, finding that he wasabout invading her parlor, and seeing no way of escape, retreatedinto a little room, or office, built off from and communicating onlywith the parlor. As she entered this room and shut the door, thecold air penetrated her garments and sent a chill through her frame.There was no carpet on the floor of this little box of a place, andit contained neither sofa, chair, nor anything else to sit upon.Moreover, it had but a single door, and that one led into theparlor. Escape, therefore, was cut off, entirely; and to remain longwhere she was could not be done except at the risk of taking asevere cold.Through the openings in a Venitian blind that was hung against theglass door, Mrs. Fairview saw the self-satisfied Mr. Bebee draw upthe large cushioned chair before the grate, and with a book in hishand, seat himself comfortably and begin to make himself entirely"at home." The prospect was, that he would thus remain "at home,"for at least the next half hour, if not longer. What was she to do?The thermometer was almost down to zero, and she was dressed for atemperature of seventy."I shall catch my death a cold," she sighed, as the chilly airpenetrated her garments, and sent a shudder through her frame.Comfortably, and as much at home as if he were in his own parlor,sat Mr. Bebee in front of the roaring grate, rocking himself in thegreat arm-chair, and enjoying a new book which he had found upon thetable.As Mrs. Fairview looked at him, and saw the complete repose andsatisfaction of his manner, she began to feel in utter despair.Already her teeth were beginning to chatter, and she was shiveringas if attacked by a fit of ague. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty minuteselapsed--but there sat the visiter, deeply absorbed in his book; andthere stood the unfortunate lady who was "not at home," so benumbedwith cold as almost to have lost the sense of bodily feeling. Acertain feeling in the throat warned her that she was taking cold,and would, in all probability, suffer from inflammation of thewindpipe and chest. Five, ten, fifteen minutes more went by; but Mr.Beebe did not move from his place. He was far too comfortable tothink of that.At last after remaining in prison for nearly an hour, Mrs. Fairview,who by this time was beginning to suffer, besides excessive fatigue,from a sharp pain through her breast to her left shoulder blade, andwho was painfully aware that she had taken a cold that would, in allprobability, put her in bed for a week, determined to make herescape at all hazards. Mr. Beebe showed no disposition to go, andmight remain for an hour longer. Throwing an apron over her head andface, she softly opened the door, and gliding past her visiter,escaped into the hall, and ran panting up stairs. Mr. Beebe raisedhis head at this unexpected invasion of the parlor, but onreflection concluded that the person who so suddenly appeared anddisappeared was merely a servant in the family.About an hour afterwards, finding that Mrs. Fairview did not return,Mr. Beebe left his card on the table, and departed in his usualcomfortable state of mind.Poor Mrs. Fairview paid dearly for her part in this transaction. Asevere attack of inflammation of the lungs followed, which came nearresulting in death. It was nearly three weeks before she was able toleave her room, and then her physician said she must not venture outbefore the mild weather of the opening spring.A few days after the lady was able to go about the house again, Mr.Bebee called to congratulate her on her recovery. Two of herchildren were in the parlor; one eleven years old, and the other achild in her fourth year."O, you naughty man, you!" exclaimed the latter, the moment she sawMr. Bebee. The oldest of the two children, who understood in amoment what her little sister meant, whispered: "H-u-s-h!--h-u-s-h!Mary!""What am I naughty about, my little sis?" said Mr. Bebee."O, because you are a naughty man! You made my mother sick, so youdid! And mother says she never wants to look in your face again. Youare a naughty man!""Mary! Mary! Hush! hush!" exclaimed the elder sister, trying to stopthe child."Made your mother sick?" said Mr. Bebee. "How did I do that?""Why, you shut her up in that little room there, all in the cold,when you were here and staid so long, one day. And it made hersick--so it did.""Shut her up in that room! what does the child mean?" said Mr.Bebee, speaking to the elder sister."Mary! Mary! I'm ashamed of you. Come away!" was the only responsemade to this.Mr. Bebee was puzzled. He asked himself as to the meaning of thisstrange language. All at once, he remembered that after he had beensitting in the parlor for an hour, on the occasion referred to, someone had come out of the little room referred to by the child, andswept past him almost as quick as a flash. But it had never onceoccurred to him that this was the lady he had called to visit, who,according to the servant, was not at home."I didn't shut your mother up in that room, Mary," said he, to thechild."O, but you did. And she got cold, and almost died."At this the elder sister, finding that she could do nothing withlittle Mary, escaped from the parlor, and running up stairs, made areport to her mother of what was going on below."Mercy!" exclaimed the lady, in painful surprise."She told him that you said you never wanted to look upon his faceagain," said the little girl."She did!""Yes. And she is telling him a great deal more. I tried my best tomake her stop, but couldn't.""Rachel! Go down and bring that child out of the parlor!" said Mrs.Fairview, to a servant. "It is too bad! I had no idea that thelittle witch knew anything about it. So much for talking beforechildren!""And so much for not being at home when you are," remarked a sisterof Mrs. Fairview, who happened to be present."So much for having an acquaintance who makes himself at home inyour house, whether you want him or not.""No doubt you are both sufficiently well punished.""I have been, I know."The heavy jar of the street door was heard at this moment."He's gone, I do believe!"And so it proved. What else little Mary said to him was never known,as the violent scolding she received when her mother got hold ofher, sealed her lips on the subject, or drove all impressionsrelating thereto from her memory.Mr. Bebee never called again.
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