Visiting as Neighbors

by T.S. Arthur

  


"I see that the house next door has been taken," remarked Mr. Lelandto his wife, as they sat alone one pleasant summer evening."Yes. The family moved in to-day," returned Mrs. Leland."Do you know their name?""It is Halloran.""Halloran, Halloran," said Mr. Leland, musingly. "I wonder if it'sthe same family that lived in Parker Street.""Yes, the same; and I wish they had stayed there.""Their moving in next door need not trouble us, Jane. They are noton our list of acquaintances.""But I shall have to call upon Mrs. Haloran; and Emma upon hergrown-up daughter Mary.""I do not see how that is to follow as a consequence of theirremoval into our neighborhood.""Politeness requires us to visit them as neighbors.""Are they really our neighbors?" asked Mr. Leland, significantly."Certainly they are. How strange that you should ask the question!""What constitutes them such? Not mere proximity, certainly. Becausea person happens to live in a house near by, can that make him orher really a neighbor, and entitled to the attention andconsideration due a neighbor?"This remark caused Mrs. Leland to look thoughtful. "It ought not,"she said, after sitting silent a little while, "but still, it does.""I do not think so. A neighbor--that is, one to whom kind offices isdue--ought to come with higher claims than the mere fact of livingin a certain house located near by the dwelling in which we reside.If mere location is to make any one a neighbor, we have noprotection against the annoyance and intrusions of persons we do notlike; nay, against evil-minded persons, who would delight more indoing us injury than good. These Hallorans for instance. They movein good society; but they are not persons to our mind. I should notlike to see you on terms of intimacy with Mrs. Halloran, or Janewith her daughter. In fact, the latter I should feel, did it exist,to be a calamity.""Still they are our neighbors," Mrs. Leland said. "I do not seehow we can avoid calling upon them.""Perhaps," remarked the husband, "you have not thought seriouslyenough on the subject."Who is my neighbor? is a question of importance, and ought to beanswered in every mind. Something more than living in the samestreet, or block of houses, is evidently implied in the wordneighbor. It clearly involves a reciprocity of good feelings. Mereproximity in space cannot effect this. It requires another kind ofnearness--the nearness of similar affections; and these must,necessarily, be unselfish; for in selfishness there is noreciprocity. Under this view, could you consider yourself theneighbor of such a person as Mrs. Halloran?""No matter what the character, we should be kind to all. Every oneshould be our neighbor, so far as this is concerned. Do you notthink so?""I do not, Jane.""Should we not be kind to every one?""Yes, kind; but not in the acceptation of the word as you have usedit. There is a false, as well as a true kindness. And it oftenhappens that true kindness appears to be any thing but what itreally is. In order to be kind to another, we are not alwaysrequired to exhibit flattering attentions. These often injure wheredistance and reserve would do good. Besides, they too frequentlygive power to such as are evil-disposed--a power that is exercisedinjuriously to others.""But the simple fact of my calling upon Mrs. Halloran cannot,possibly, give her the power of injuring me or any one else.""I think differently. The fact that you have called upon her will bea reason for some others to do the same; for, you know, there arepersons who never act from a distinct sense of right, but merelyfollow in the wake of others. Thus the influence of a selfish,censorious, evil-minded woman will be extended. So far as you areconcerned, the danger may be greater than you imagine. Is MaryHalloran, in your estimation, a fit companion for our daughter?Could she become intimate with her, and not suffer a moraldeterioration?""I think not.""Are you sure that a call upon Mrs. Halloran will not lead to thisresult?""No, I am not sure. Still, I do not apprehend any danger.""I should be very much afraid of the experiment.""But, do you not think, husband, that, apart from all these fears, Iam bound to extend to Mrs. Halloran the courtesies due a neighbor?""I cannot, in the true sense of the word, consider her a neighbor;and, therefore, do not see that you owe her the courtesies to whichyou allude. It is the good in any one that really makes theneighbor. This good should ever be regarded. But, to showattentions, and give eminence and consideration to an evil-mindedperson, is to make evil, instead of good, the neighbor.--It is togive that power to evil which is ever exercised in injury toothers."Mrs. Leland's mind perceived only in a small degree the force ofwhat her husband said.--She was not a woman who troubled herselfabout the characters of those who stood upon a certain level insociety. Mrs. Halloran claimed her place from wealth and familyconnexions, and this place was rather above than below that occupiedby Mrs. Leland. The temptation to call upon her was, therefore,pretty strong. It was not so much a regard for her new neighbor, asa desire to make her acquaintance, that influenced her.--Acting inopposition to her husband's judgment, in a few days she called uponMrs. Halloran.She found her, to use her own words, a "charming woman." The nextmove was for the daughter to call upon Mary Halloran. Before theweek passed, these calls had been returned. In a month the twofamilies--that is, the female members of them--had become quiteintimate. This intimacy troubled Mr. Leland. He was a man of pureprinciples, and could tolerate no deviation from them. Deeply did heregret any association that might tend to weaken the respect forsuch principles with which he had sought to inspire the mind of hisdaughter. In them he knew lay the power that was to protect her inthe world. But he could not interfere, arbitrarily, with his wife;that he would have considered more dangerous than to let her act infreedom. But he felt concerned for the consequence, and frequentlyurged her not to be too intimate with her new neighbor."Some evil, I am sure, will grow out of it," he would say, wheneverallusion was in any way made to the subject of his wife's intimacywith Mrs. Halloran. "No one can touch pitch and not be defiled.""I really must blame you," Mrs. Leland replied to a remark likethis, "for your blind opposition to Mrs. Halloran. The more I see ofher, the better I like her. She is a perfect lady. So kind, soaffable, so--so"--Mr. Leland shook his head."The mere gloss of polite society," he returned. "There is nosoundness in her heart. We know that, for the tree is judged by itsfruit.""We have seen no evil fruit," said the wife."Others have, and we know that others have.--Her conduct in thecase of the Percys is notorious.""Common report is always exaggerated.""Though it usually has some foundation in truth. But granting allthe exaggeration and false judgment that usually appertain to commonreport, is it not wiser to act as if common report were true, untilwe know it to be false?"But it was useless for Mr. Leland to talk.--His wife was charmedwith the fascinating neighbor, and would hear nothing against her.Jane, too, had become intimate with Mary Halloran, a bold-facedgirl, who spent half of her time in the street, and talked of littleelse but beaux and dress. Jane was eighteen, and before heracquaintance with Mary, had been but little into company. Herintimacy with Mary soon put new notions into her head. She began tothink more of dress, and scarcely a day passed that she did not goout with her very intimate and pleasant friend. Mrs. Leland did notlike this. Much as she was pleased Mrs. Halloran, she never fanciedthe daughter a great deal, and would have been much better satisfiedif the two young ladies had not become quite so intimate."Where are you going?" she said to Jane, who came down stairsdressed to go out, one morning."Mary and I are going to make some calls," she replied."You were out making calls, yesterday, with Mary, and the day beforealso. This is too great a waste of time, Jane. I would rather seeyou at home more.""I don't know why you should wish to confine me down to the house.Mary Halloran goes and comes when she pleases.""Mary Halloran is in the street a great deal too much. I am far fromwishing to see you imitate her example.""But what harm is there in it, mother?""A great deal, Jane. It gives idle habits, and makes the minddissatisfied with the more sober duties of life.""I am too young for the sober duties of life," said Jane, ratherpertly."That is, doubtless, one of your friend Mary's sentiments; and it isworthy of her."This was true, and Jane did not deny it."Go now," said Mrs. Leland, with much sobriety of manner. "Butremember that I disapprove of this gadding about, and object to itscontinuance. I should be very sorry to have your father know to whatextent you are carrying it."Jane went out and called for Mary, and the two young ladies made afew calls, and then walked the streets until dinner time; not,however, alone, but accompanied by a dashing young fellow, who hadbeen introduced to Mary a few evenings before, and now made bold tofollow up the acquaintance, encouraged by a glance from the younglady's bright, inviting eyes.Mrs. Leland, in the mean time, felt unhappy. Her daughter waschanging, and the change troubled her. The intimacy formed with MaryHalloran, it was clear, was doing her no good, but harm. By thistime, too, she had noticed some things in the mother that were by nomeans to her taste. There was a coarseness, vulgarity and want ofdelicacy about her, that showed itself more and more every day,traits of character particularly offensive to Mrs. Leland, who was awoman of refined sentiments. Besides, Mrs. Halloran's conversationinvolved topics neither interesting nor instructing to herneighbors; and often of a decidedly objectionable kind. In fact, sheliked her less and less every day, and felt her too frequentlyrepeated visits as an annoyance; and though "Why don't you come into see me oftener?" was repeated almost daily, she did not returnmore than one out of every half dozen calls she received."I've seen Jane in the street with that Mary Halloran no less thanthree times this week," said Mr. Leland, one day, "and on two ofthese occasions there was a beau accompanying each of the youngladies.""She goes out too often, I know," returned Mrs. Leland seriously. "Ihave objected to it several times, but the girl's head seems turnedwith that Mary Halloran. I do wish she had never known her.""So do I, from my heart. We knew what she was, and never should havepermitted Jane to make her acquaintance, if it had been in our powerto prevent it.""It is too late now, and can't be helped.""Too late to prevent the acquaintance, but not too late to preventsome of the evil consequences likely to grow out of such an improperintimacy, which must cease from the present time.""It will be a difficult matter to break it off now.""No matter how difficult it may be, it must be done. The first steptoward it you will have to make, in being less intimate with themother, whom I like less and less the oftener I meet her.""That step, so far as I am concerned, has already been taken. I haveceased visiting Mrs. Halloran almost entirely; but she is here justas often, and sadly annoys me. I dislike her more and more everyday.""If I saw as much in any one to object to as you see in Mrs.Halloran, I would soon make visiting a thing by no means agreeable.You can easily get rid of her intrusive familiarity if you thinkproper.""Yes, by offending her, and getting the ill-will of a low-mindedunprincipled woman; a thing that no one wants.""Better offend her than suffer, as we are likely to suffer, from acontinuance of the acquaintance. Offend the mother, I say, and thusyou get rid of the daughter."But Mrs. Leland was not prepared for this step, yet. From havingbeen fascinated by Mrs. Halloran, she now began to fear her."I should not like to have her talk of me as she talks of somepeople whom I think a great deal better than she is.""Let her talk. What she says will be no scandal," returned Mr.Leland."Even admit that, I don't want to be on bad terms with a neighbor.If she were to remove from the neighborhood, the thing would assumea different aspect. As it is, I cannot do as I please.""Can't you indeed? Then I think we had better move forthwith, inorder that you may be free to act right. There is one thing that Iintend doing, immediately, in any event, and that is, to forbid Janefrom associating any longer with Mary Halloran.""She cannot help herself. Mary calls for her every day.""She can help going out with her and returning her calls; and thisshe must do.""I wish it could be prevented. But I am afraid of harsh measures.""I am more afraid of the consequences to our daughter. We know notinto what company this indiscreet young lady may introduce, nor howdeeply she may corrupt her. Our duty to our child requires us atonce to break up all intercourse with the family."The necessity Mrs. Leland saw clearly enough, but she hesitated. Herhusband, however, was not a man to hold back when his duty wasbefore him. Neither fear nor favor governed him in his actionstoward others. When satisfied that a thing ought to be done, heentered fearlessly upon the work, leaving consequences to take careof themselves.While they were yet conversing Jane came to the door, accompanied bya young gallant. Mr. Leland happened to be sitting near the windowand saw him."Bless my heart!" he said, in an excited voice."Here she is now, in company with that good-for-nothing son of Mr.Clement. She might almost as well associate with Satan himself.""With John Clement?" asked Mrs. Leland, in surprise."It is too true; and the fellow had the assurance to kiss his handto her. This matter has gone quite far enough now, in allconscience, and must be stopped, if half the world become offended."Mrs. Leland doubted and hesitated no longer. The young man who hadcome home with Jane bore a notoriously bad character. It was littleless than disgrace, in the eyes of virtuous people, for a lady to beseen in the street with him. Mr. and Mrs. Leland were shocked anddistressed at the appearance of things; and mutually resolved thatall intercourse with Mrs. Halloran and her daughter should cease.This could not be effected without giving offence; but no matter,offence would have to be given.On that very afternoon Mrs. Halloran called in. But Mrs. Leland senther word that she was engaged."Engaged, indeed!" said the lady to the servant, tossing her head."I'm never engaged to a neighbor."The servant repeated the words."Be engaged again, if she calls," said Mr. Leland, when his wifementioned the remark of her visitor. "It will raise an effectualbarrier between you."Some serious conversation was had with Jane that day by her mother,but Jane was by no means submissive."Your father positively forbids any farther intimacy between you andMary Halloran. I shall have nothing more to do with her mother."Jane met this declaration with a passionate gush of tears, and anintimation that she was not prepared to sacrifice the friendship ofMary, whom she believed to be quite as good as herself."It must be done, Jane. Your father has the best of reasons fordesiring it, and I hope you will not think for a moment of opposinghis wishes.""He doesn't know Mary as I know her. His prejudices have nofoundation in truth," said Jane."No matter how pure she may be," replied the mother, "she hasalready introduced you into bad company. A virtuous young ladyshould blush to be seen in the street with the man who came homewith you to-day.""Who, Mr. Clement?" inquired Jane."Yes, John Clement. His bad conduct is so notorious as to excludehim entirely from the families of many persons, who have theindependence to mark with just reprehension his evil deeds. Itgrieves me to think that you were not instinctively repelled by himthe moment he approached you."Jane's manner changed at these words. But the change did not clearlyindicate to her mother what was passing in her mind. From thatmoment she met with silence nearly every thing that her mother said.Early on the next day Mary Halloran called for Jane, as she wasregularly in the habit of doing. Mrs. Leland purposely met her atthe door, and when she inquired for Jane, asked her, with an air ofcold politeness, to excuse her daughter, as she was engaged."Not engaged to me," said Mary, evincing surprise."You must excuse her, Miss Halloran; she is engaged this morning,"returned the mother, with as much distance and formality as atfirst.Mary Halloran turned away, evidently offended."Ah me!" sighed Mrs. Leland, as she closed the door upon the giddyyoung girl; "how much trouble has my indiscreetness cost me. Myhusband was right, and I felt that he was right; but, in the face ofhis better judgment, I sought the acquaintance of this woman, andnow, where the consequences are to end, heaven only knows.""Was that Mary Halloran?" inquired Jane, who came down stairs as hermother returned along the passage."It was," replied the mother."Why did she go away?""I told her you were engaged.""Why, mother!" Jane seemed greatly disturbed."It is your father's wish as well as mine," said Mrs. Leland calmly,"that all intercourse between you and this young lady cease, and forreasons that I have tried to explain to you. She is one whosecompany you cannot keep without injury."Jane answered with tears, and retired to her chamber, where shewrote a long and tender letter to Mary, explaining her position.This letter she got the chambermaid to deliver, and bribed her tosecrecy. Mary replied, in an epistle full of sympathy for herunhappy condition, and full of indignation at the harsh judgment ofher parents in regard to herself. The letter contained varioussuggestions in regard to the manner in which Jane ought to conductherself, none of them at all favorable to submission and concludedwith warm attestations of friendship.From that time an active correspondence took place between the youngladies, and occasional meetings at times when the parents of Janesupposed her to be at the houses of some of their friends.As for Mrs. Halloran, she was seriously offended at the suddenrepulse both she and her daughter had met, and spared no pains, andlet no opportunity go unimproved, for saying hard things of Mrs.Leland and her family. Even while Mary was carrying on a tender andconfidential correspondence with Jane, she was hinting disreputablethings against the thoughtless girl, and doing her a serious injury.The first intimation that the parents had of any thing being wrong,was the fact that two very estimable ladies, for whom they had ahigh respect, and with whose daughters Jane was on terms ofintimacy, twice gave Jane the same answer that Mrs. Leland had givenMary Halloran; thus virtually saying to her that they did not wishher to visit their daughters. Both Mr. and Mrs. Leland, when Janementioned these occurrences, left troubled. Not long after, a largeparty was given by one of the ladies, but no invitations were sentto either Mr. or Mrs. Leland, or their daughter. This was felt to bean intended omission.After long and serious reflection on the subject, Mrs. Leland feltit to be her duty, as a parent, to see this lady, and frankly askthe reason of her conduct towards Jane, as well as toward her andher husband. She felt called upon to do this, in order to ascertainif there were not some things injurious to her daughter in commonreport. The lady seemed embarrassed on meeting Mrs. Leland, but thelatter, without any excitement, or the appearance of being in theleast offended, spoke of what had occurred, and then said--"Now, there must be a reason for this. Will you honestly tell mewhat it is?"The lady seemed confused and hesitated."Do not fear to speak plainly, my dear madam. Tell me the wholetruth. There is something wrong, and I ought to know it. Putyourself in my place, and you will not long hesitate what to do.""It is a delicate and painful subject for me to speak of to you,Mrs. Leland.""No matter. Speak out without disguise."After some reflection, the lady said--"I have daughters, and am tremblingly alive to their good. I feel itto be my duty to protect them from all associations likely to dothem an injury. Am I not right in this?""Undoubtedly.""There is one young man in this city whose very name should shockthe ear of innocence and purity. I mean Clement.""You cannot think worse of him than I do.""And yet, I am told, Mrs. Leland, that your daughter may be seen onthe street with him almost every day; and not only on the streeet,but at balls, concerts, and the theatre.""Who says so?""I have heard it from several," replied the lady, speaking slowerand more thoughtfully. "Mrs. Halloran mentioned it to the person whofirst told me; and, since then, I have frequently heard it spokenof."In answer to this, Mrs. Leland related the whole history of herintercourse with Mrs. Halloran, and the cause of its interruption.She then said--"Once, only, are we aware of our daughter's having met this youngman. Since then, she has gone out but rarely, and has not been fromhome a single evening, unless in our company; so that the broadcharge of association with Clement is unfounded, and has had itsorigin in a malignant spirit.""I understand it all, now, clearly," replied the lady. "Mrs.Halloran is a woman of no principle. You have deeply offended her,and she takes this method of being revenged.""That is the simple truth. I was urged by my husband not to callupon her when she moved in our square, but I felt it to be onlyright to visit her as a neighbor.""A woman like Mrs. Halloran is not to be regarded as a neighbor,"replied the lady."So my husband argued, but I was blind enough to think differently,and to act as I thought. Dearly enough am I paying for my folly.Where the consequences will end is more than I can tell.""We may be able to counteract them to a certain extent," said thelady. "Understanding as I now do, clearly, your position toward Mrs.Halloran, I will be able to neutralize a great deal that she says.But I am afraid your daughter is misleading you in some things, andgiving color to what is said of her.""How so?" asked Mrs. Leland in surprise."Was she out yesterday?""Yes. She went to see her cousins in the morning.""One of my daughters says she met her in the street, in company withthe very individual of whom we are speaking.""Impossible!""My daughter says she is not mistaken," returned the lady.Mrs. Leland's distress of mind, as to this intelligence, may beimagined. On returning home, she found that Jane had gone out duringher absence. She went up into her daughter's room, and found a noteaddressed to Jane lying upon her table. After some reflection, shefelt it to be her duty to open the note, which she did. It was fromMary Halloran, and in these words:--"MY SWEET FRIEND,--I saw Mr. Clement last night at the opera. He hada great deal to say about you, and uttered many flatteringcompliments on your beauty. He says that he would like to meet youto-morrow evening, and will be at the corner of Eighth and Pinestreets at half past seven o'clock. Can you get away at that time,without exciting suspicion? If you can, don't fail to meet him, ashe is very desirous that you should do so. I was delighted with theopera, and wished a hundred times that you were with me to enjoy it."Yours, forever,"MARY."Mrs. Leland clasped her hands together, and leaned forward upon thebureau near which she had been standing, scarcely able to sustainher own weight. It was many minutes before she could think clearly.After much reflection, she thought it best not to say anything toJane about the note. This course was approved by Mr. Leland, whobelieved with his wife, that it was better that Jane should be keptin ignorance of its contents, at least until the time mentioned forher joining Clement had passed. Both the parents were deeplytroubled; and bitterly did Mrs. Leland repent her folly in makingthe acquaintance of their new neighbor, simply because she was aneighbor according to proximity.It was after seven o'clock when the tea bell rang that evening. Mr.and Mrs. Leland descended to the dining-room, and took their placesat the table."Where is Jane?" asked Mrs. Leland, after they had been seated a fewmoments."She went out five or ten minutes ago," replied the waiter.Both the mother and father started, with exclamations of surpriseand alarm, from the table. Mr. Leland seized his hat and cane, andrushing from the house, ran at full speed toward the place whichClement had appointed for a meeting with his daughter. He arrived intime to see a lady hastily enter a carriage, followed by a man. Thecarriage drove off rapidly. A cab was passing near him at the time,to the driver of which he called in an excited voice."Do you see that carriage?" Mr. Leland said eagerly, as the manreined up his horse. "Keep within sight of it until it stops, and Iwill give you ten dollars.""Jump in," returned the driver. "I'll keep in sight."For nearly a quarter of an hour the wheels of the cab rattled in theears of Mr. Leland. It then stopped, and the anxious father sprangout upon the pavement. The carriage had drawn up a little inadvance, and a lady was descending from it, assisted by a man. Mr.Leland knew the form of his daughter. Ere the young lady and herattendant could cross the pavement, he had confronted them. Angrybeyond the power of control, he seized the arm of Jane with onehand, and, as he drew away from her companion, knocked him down witha tremendous blow from the cane which he held in the other. Thendragging, or rather carrying, his frightened daughter to the cab,thrust her in, and, as he followed after, gave the driver thedirection of his house, and ordered him to go there at the quickestspeed. Jane either was, or affected to be, unconscious, when shearrived at home.Two days after, this paragraph appeared in one of the daily papers."SAVED FROM THE BRINK OF RUIN.--A young man of notoriously badcharacter, yet connected with one of our first families, recentlyattempted to draw aside from virtue an innocent but thoughtless andunsuspecting girl, the daughter of a respectable citizen. Heappointed a meeting with her in the street at night, and she was madenough to join him at the hour mentioned. Fortunately it happenedthat the father, by some means, received intelligence of what wasgoing on, and hurried to the place. He arrived in time to see thementer a carriage and drive off. He followed in another carriage, andwhen they stopped before a house, well known to be one of evilrepute, he confronted them on the pavement, knocked the youngvillain down, and carried his daughter off home. We forbear tomention names, as it would do harm, rather than good, the young ladybeing innocent of any evil intent, and unsuspicious of wrong in hercompanion. We hope it will prove a lesson that she will neverforget. She made a most fortunate escape."When Jane Leland was shown this paragraph, she shuddered and turnedpale; and the shudder went deeper, and her cheek became still paler,a few weeks later when the sad intelligence came that Mary Halloranhad fallen into the same snare that had been laid for her feet; awilling victim too many believed, for she was not ignorant ofClement's real character.By sad experience Mrs. Leland was taught the folly of any weakdeparture from what is clearly seen to be a right course of action;and she understood, better than she had ever done before, theoft-repeated remark of her husband that "only those whose principlesand conduct we approve are to be considered, in any true sense,neighbors."


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