Douglas Amanda M.
A Little Girl in Old Washington

CHAPTER XII.
A TALK OF WEDDINGS

"You must decide and answer me, Jaqueline. You know I love you. The marriage would be pleasing to both sides of the family. My holiday is over, and I must rejoin my chief. I want the matter settled. If you are not convinced that you can love me, I shall take it as a sign that there is very little hope for me – none at all, in fact – and go my way."

There was something rather stern in the tone, and the pretty girl's humor protested. She liked the tender wooing, the graceful compliments, the sort of uncertainty when she could salve her conscience by saying she was not really engaged and feel compelled to hold herself aloof from certain attentions. For whatever coquetries a Virginia girl might indulge in, an engagement was sacred.

"I do wonder if you really love me?" She longed to temporize. There was always something happening, and now there was to be a week's party at Annapolis and a ball and several sailing excursions. Business would interfere with his going. If she could keep free until after that!

He looked at her steadily. "If you doubt it after my year of devotion, I hardly know how to convince you. Words will not do it. You must believe it."

"For it would be a sad thing for either of us to make a mistake," she returned plaintively.

"You asked for three months to consider. And yet you admitted that you cared for me even then. If your love has not increased any in that time it certainly argues ill for me. And now it must be a plain answer, yes or no. It is foolish to trifle this way. Which is it, Jaqueline?"

He took both her hands in his and impelled her to meet his eyes. Her face was scarlet, her eyes drooped, her expression was so beseeching that it almost conquered him as it had times before. But he was going away with Mr. Monroe, and it would be a month before he saw her again.

"Yes or no!"

"You are cruel." Her eyes filled with tears. She felt his hands tremble, strong as they were.

"Then it must be no, if you cannot say yes. Jaqueline, I am more than sorry. You are the first girl that ever roused in me the sweet desire to have her for my very own. I may never find another to whom I can give the same regard. But I want no unwilling bride."

He dropped the hands reluctantly. He half turned, as if that was final.

"Roger – "

She so often evaded his name. What an entrancing sound it had! And it softened him.

"You are so masterful," and her voice had a little break in it. "I am afraid I could not be a meek, silly wife with no mind of her own, but a mocking-bird echo of her husband's. When I feel quite sure I love you – "

"Is there any such blessed moment?" He took her in his arms. "I have sometimes felt in my inmost soul there was, and this certainly pays for hours of doubt. I do not care to have you meek; and silly women I abhor. I only want this one point settled. After that you will find me devoted to your slightest whims."

"Then I suppose I must – " with a fascinating reluctance.

"There is no compulsion. You either give me your sweet, fresh girl's soul to bloom in the garden of manhood's unalterable love, freely and rejoicingly, or I go my solitary way."

"Do not go. I could not spare you. Are you quite sure you will not prove a tyrant?"

For answer he kissed her, then held her in a gentle yet strong embrace.

"And you love me?"

"Oh, how hard you are to satisfy!"

"Still, you will say it?"

"I love you. Will that satisfy your lordship? Now if I were a princess you could not be so hard to satisfy. A nod would answer."

"You are my princess. Now let us go and find your father. I am afraid he has had a rather low opinion of my powers of persuasion."

They were under the great plane tree. Annis was taking a lesson in hemstitching at her mother's knee.

"We have come for your blessing," began the happy lover.

"Which I give gladly. I could not have chosen better for Jaqueline if I had gone half over the world, or at least a son-in-law more acceptable to myself. If I wish you as much happiness as I have had, your cup will be full."

Mrs. Mason rose and kissed the girl with fervent affection. "We all like him so," she whispered to Jaqueline. "Your father will be as happy as your lover."

"Come and give us joy, little Annis. I hope Charles won't protest at your having a new brother."

"But he likes you so," answered the child simply. "And you never tease him."

"Charles must learn not to be such a ninny," declared his father.

The supper was almost a betrothal feast. For a wonder, there were no guests. But before bedtime every slave on the plantation knew it, and great was the rejoicing. And the next morning numerous little gifts were brought for Jaqueline's acceptance. And now Roger hated to go away. How could he be content with this one brief sup of happiness?

"We must go up to the Pineries," Mr. Mason said. "Your grandmother would feel hurt if she were not informed at once. And – are you going next week?"

"Oh, of course. I even asked Mr. Carrington. Was not that dutiful?"

Her father laughed. "Jaqueline, you need a strong hand. You have had your way too much."

"I don't know why everyone thinks I ought to be ruled like a baby," she pouted.

"Jack, you are going to have one of the best husbands. Remember that."

It was not until afternoon that they started, and were to remain all night. As there was room for one more, Annis went with them. It hardly seemed like the same place, Jaqueline thought, and she decided she liked grandpapa much better than Uncle Brandon. He insisted upon the relationship having the right name, and was quite as great a stickler for attention as his father had been; but where Mr. Floyd's was really a fine old-fashioned dignity, Brandon's seemed more pretentious.

His wife was one of the ordinary women of that day, whose duty under all circumstances was to her husband. Master Archie put on many consequential airs.

"I am glad you are going to do so well," said grandmother. "The Carringtons are a good family, and their father left a nice property, which must be very valuable. I must look among my treasures and see what I can spare for you. Dolly had my rubies – they were her choice; and my pearls were for Marian. That was a sad and sore disappointment to us all. There seems very little hope of amendment in the case."

Jaqueline and Marian walked up and down in the fragrant twilight.

"You don't mean that you still consider yourself engaged?" queried the young girl in surprise.

"But nothing has been said, and I don't know what can be said now. You see, papa made his will quite a long while ago, and when there was the talk about Lieutenant Ralston he said if I encouraged him – if I married against his wishes – he would not leave me anything, and everybody should know it was because I had been a disobedient, ungrateful child. Think of having it read out before all the relatives! And you know he did not alter the will. He gave Jane less because he had given her part of her portion on her wedding day. Jane had it very easy, I think, considering that Mr. Jettson had no fortune to speak of except those Washington marshes. But Jane's had a nice time and plenty of friends. Only, you see, now I feel bound by the will. Papa trusted me. He had a feeling that Mr. Greaves might recover – he was so strong, and had always been well. But we never talked it over, for no one really was thinking of papa's death."

"Do you know, Marian, I consider you a very foolish girl – superstitious, as well? No one can expect you to marry Mr. Greaves," said Jaqueline emphatically.

"Of course not now. But if he should have his mind a little while and give me up, I should feel quite free, you know."

"And you mean to wait for that?" indignantly.

"I am not waiting. Papa has been dead such a little while that it would be indecent to traverse his wishes at once. And Mr. Greaves loved me, he really did; you need not look so incredulous! Not like – a younger man, perhaps," making a little halt. "He planned so many things for my pleasure. We were to go to England. He and papa agreed so well on politics."

"And you are an American girl! Please don't forget that grandmother's father was at the surrender of Cornwallis, and we are all proud of it! He is your ancestor, too. And the Masons were all on the side of liberty and a country for ourselves."

"I think women are not much concerned in politics," she replied evasively. "But it is pleasanter to have all your people of one belief. It does seem as if the Church should have something to do with the government. I don't understand it, but it appears Christian and proper."

"After all, it is the people who make the country, and the Church too. And it ought to be what the people want, the majority of them."

Jaqueline's tone carried a penetrating conviction, yet Marian steeled her heart against it. The people certainly were an aggregate of individuals; and if everyone insisted upon having his own way, anarchy must ensue. But she could not reason on the subject, even in Jaqueline's girlish fashion. Argument was reprehensible in women.

"Then you just mean to wait!" There was an accent of disappointment in Jaqueline's tone.

"There is nothing else to do. I certainly must respect papa's wishes."

"You've changed so, Marian."

"Remember, Jaqueline, I am years older than you," she replied with dignity. "And now I have to be mother's companion. She misses father very much. I'm glad to have you happy, and everyone is pleased with your engagement. It is a very excellent one."

"The excellence wouldn't go very far if it did not please me," returned the younger girl. "My happiness and pleasure are a personal affair, not simply the satisfaction of others."

"I hope you will be very happy," reiterated Marian. "Dolly is. Mother thinks her letters are quite frivolous; they are all about dinners and visits and parties. She doesn't go to the very gay ones, but she writes about them. Charleston must be quite as fashionable as Washington, to judge from the gowns and entertainments. But Dolly is not keeping house, though she has her rooms and her maid."

Then the two girls lapsed into silence as they walked up and down. Jaqueline was thinking that next week Lieutenant Ralston would be her cavalier, and she had ardently wished to reawaken hope in his breast, in the place of the disesteem in which he held Marian – indeed, nearly all women; though he occasionally said: "I can't imagine you or Mrs. Jettson doing such a thing!" That was really flattering. Of course she should tell him of her engagement, and they would still be friends.

Louis was to be of the party, and they started off in high spirits.

"Jaqueline ought to sober down a little," said her father. "And there is no need of a long engagement. The Carringtons will be anxious for the marriage – well," laughingly, "more anxious than we. But I think most men are pleased when their daughters marry well. And we have four."

"We need not think of the younger ones for several years," Mrs. Mason said with a smile.

"Varina ought to go to school somewhere, or to Aunt Catharine. Patty improved wonderfully. And Charles – "

"I think Charles is doing very well. Louis admits that he studies beyond his years. And he seems to me not over-robust. I would certainly wait another year."

Jaqueline begged her brother to say nothing about the engagement. It was so recent, and she would not be married in some time.

"You'll be flirting with everybody."

"Oh, don't grudge me a week's pleasure! After that I will be as staid as any grandmother."

"Carrington isn't the fellow to stand much nonsense when the rights are all on his side. I advise you to be careful."

"Why, I am going to be, even now. Of course Mr. Ralston is different from the others. We have been friends so long."

Ralston was safe enough, Louis thought. And one couldn't quite blame Jaqueline. She did not flirt openly like Betty Fairfax; and now Betty was devotion itself to her lover, and she was to be married in the early autumn. In fact, Louis had not felt satisfied to be so entirely crowded out when he had been one of Betty's favorites.

Girls were queer, he mused. Then he threw himself into the round of pleasures, which in those days were really made for enjoyment. No one thought of being bored. The world was fresh and young, and had not been traversed by theories and sciences and experiences of tired generations. Everyone felt he or she had a right to at least one draught of the nectar of youth.

Lieutenant Ralston had come with the hope that Jaqueline would bring him some message to light the future. Of course if Marian had been married that would have been the end of all things. He had too fine a sense of honor to covet another man's wife. But it seemed as if Providence had intervened. Mr. Floyd was dead and Mr. Greaves out of the lists by a stroke of fate. And since Marian was free, he was at liberty to give his fancy unlimited play once more.

Jaqueline was indignant that Marian had not gladly grasped her liberty, but still hugged the chain of another's selecting. Perhaps her feelings colored her words, although she strove to be fair and make allowance for the superstitious reverence in which the girl seemed to hold her father. Or was it really fear?

"I thought I had not hoped any, but circumstances coming out this way seemed an interposition in my behalf," admitted Mr. Ralston. "And I found it very easy to go back to that delightful experience. Even now that you have a lover, Miss Jaqueline, I think you hardly understand how a man loves and how willing he is to pick up the faintest shred of hope and dream that it may blossom anew, or rather that the bud, having been crushed by another's ruthlessness, has still in it strength enough to unfold in fragrance when nursed carefully by the man who thinks no other bloom could ever be so sweet. Perhaps I was a fool for this second dream. I tried to shut it out, but it stole in unawares. She hasn't been worth it all, nor any of it, I see that plainly now."

"Poor Marian!" The love moved the girl with infinite pity for the woman who had lost it and was trying to feed on husks.

"No, don't pity her; she isn't worth it," and his tone was bitterly resentful. "I could have overlooked the weakness that made her yield to her tyrannical father; but now when she could be free, when she knows there awaits her the sacred welcome of love, it is plain that she does not care. Perhaps she is still counting on a fortune coming to her as if by a miracle, for she has no great deal of her own."

"No, no; it is not that," protestingly.

"It looks mightily like it."

"Marian has a queer conscience. You don't know – " Did she really know Marian herself?

"Well, we will dismiss her now. Perhaps she has a high order of constancy that will keep her faithful to someone who is helpless and cannot appreciate it. She may be a too superior person for me. That is the end of it. I shall never mention her again. You have been very good to find so many excuses for her, and to keep alive my regard. But I cannot afford to lose your friendship. Carrington won't grudge me that, I know."

Jaqueline smiled. She was rather proud that he asked her friendship.

There were belles who were eager to gain his attention. Jaqueline resolved to keep the best of her friend to herself, and smiled a little at the curiously obedient manner in which he returned to her when she had sent him to dance with someone. She liked the pretty ordering about of her admirers, the sense of power at once fascinating and dangerous.

"I shall try to get off for a few days and pay you a visit," Ralston said. "Louis will be going back to college, and next year we shall have him in Washington. And you will be up often this winter? Mrs. Jettson seems deserted by both of her sisters. She is so fond of young people."

"Oh, yes; I shall be up a good deal."

"And the visit?" tentatively.

"We shall be delighted to see you. You will have an admiring audience from father down."

"Thank you. You can never know what a comfort you have been to me. And these few days have quite restored me to myself. Have I been a very foolish, love-stricken swain?"

"Oh, I do not think you have been foolish at all! I was afraid you would grow hard and cynical, and I don't like people who are classing everybody in the same category and looking on the worst side."

She was very young, but she had a charm that touched his heart. Did he half envy Roger Carrington? But, then, he would be madly jealous of anyone who lavished her smiles in that fashion. One or two choice friends might be admissible. He was safe, for he would never be so easily caught again by any woman. Friendship was all he desired, and in the years to come she would resemble Mrs. Jettson, no doubt, who was very proud of her husband, and fond of him too. He liked women who were proud of their husbands. For wifely devotion had not gone out of fashion.

There was a gay and busy autumn for Jaqueline. Betty Fairfax had a great wedding that befitted the old mansion where she had reigned a queen for more years than usually fell to the lot of a handsome Virginian girl. She had seen two younger sisters married and made much merriment over it, and now she was going to be the wife of the newly elected Governor of one of the more southern States. Consequently there was a grand time all through the county, and there were six bridesmaids to wait upon my lady, one of them being Jaqueline.

So there was a week to be spent with Betty, Miss Elizabeth Fairfax, as she was called now.

"And what a shame your cousin's affairs should have come to naught!" Betty declared. "To give up a fine young soldier, and then to have her second lover come to grief. It is a case of the two stools, and one coming to the floor. If I had not heard of your engagement, Jaqueline, I should have asked him to stand with you. If I had known him better I should have invited him, anyhow. There are several guests coming from Washington."

"If I had only known you cared!" cried Jaqueline.

"You see, I want to make as brave a show as possible," and Betty laughed. "I desire to let my liege-lord see that I have been accustomed to the best, and a good deal of it, so he won't consider me an ignoramus when he is inaugurated Governor later on."

"Then let us have Mr. Ralston!" Jaqueline's eyes were alight with eagerness and amusement. "I will write to Mr. Carrington, and you shall inclose an invitation. I'll send a few lines too, so that he can see it is really meant."

"That's quite delightful of you. Maybe he will find some balm to mend his broken heart among the pretty girls."

"He is not heartbroken now, although he took it very hard at first. Grandpapa was bitterly opposed to it, you know. And Marian is in mourning and goes nowhere, because grandmamma thinks she ought not to be left alone."

"But Mr. Greaves will never recover. Doctor Leets said so."

"Oh, no! No one expects it, I think."

"Well, I suppose the devotion to a lost cause looks very pretty and constant. Only she will not be a widow, more's the pity, for widows soon pick up husbands. Now about the invitation."

It was so prettily worded that Lieutenant Ralston accepted it at the first reading; and the two journeyed together to the grand festivity. Old people and young attended, in fashions of various kinds, from the Continental to more modern date. The Governor of Virginia honored Betty's nuptials, and several of the Washington grandees. The Gazette had a brilliant account of it, and it was the boast of the county for many a year afterward.

The next morning the newly wedded pair started in a coach drawn by six white horses, ornamented with wedding favors. And there was, as usual, much merry-making afterwards, as there was still one daughter to lead in the gayety.

"And when are you coming up to Georgetown?" Carrington asked of his sweetheart.

"Oh, there is another wedding on the carpet! And then a birthday ball at the Lees'. Then Patty is to have a birthday celebration. She thinks thus far all the festivities have been for me, and this time the invitations are to go out in her name."

"And then Christmas, I suppose," in a rather disappointed tone. "To get my share of you I shall have to marry you, Jaqueline. Come, think about that. When is it to be?"

"In a year. That will give me time to fulfill my engagements and get ready."

"A year!" in dismay.

"You ought not grudge me that when you think of the years and years we shall have to live together."

"Shall have to!" he re-echoed.

"That I believe is customary when one is married," she said with teasing archness. "Unless one happens to have the Emperor of the French for a brother."

"Wifehood is a woman's highest prerogative – "

"Not to be entered into hastily or unadvisedly," she interrupted with a mischievous smile.

She was a pretty, fascinating torment! His mother had said: "One wedding follows another among the bridesmaids. I hope you will come home with your day set."

"I am going to learn to cook and to keep house this winter," she began gravely. "And it takes a long time to make wedding clothes."

"Nonsense! There are cooks enough in the world. As for housekeeping, that is a woman's birthright. And at first you know we need not keep house. You will be in Washington with me, and then we can go over home – for I shall hardly let you out of my sight. Yes, let it be soon after Christmas."

"I can't be hurried in that fashion," she returned petulantly. "And I should get tired of you if you were such a jailer as never to let me out of your sight."

"You do not love me as I love you!"

"But you know I told you I was not quite sure I loved you enough. Love grows with some people, and with some it comes in a moment of time. Would you not rather have it grow year after year, and get richer and truer – "

Her voice fell to an exquisite softness, and touched him deeply.

"There can be only one truth to love," he said solemnly. Then he took her in his arms and pressed a kiss upon her forehead in a reverent manner.

"I must go away and leave you here," he said presently. "I am always leaving you to some scene of gayety."

"But you take the two most tempting young men, the lieutenant and Dr. Collaston. Why, he will add quite a grace and interest to Washington. And the goodly company will be scattered, leaving behind the old people, who are always talking of their young days. I promised Betty I would stay a whole week with her sister. There – I think they are calling you."

"Carriage ready, sah. Jes' time to meet de stage," said the black servant, who still wore his wedding favor proudly.

Were most girls reluctant to marry? Roger Carrington wondered. Miss Fairfax had gone away joyfully.