Douglas Amanda M.
A Little Girl in Old Washington

CHAPTER VIII.
AN ANGRY FATHER

Jaqueline was very busy paying visits and having a good time. They had been up to the Pineries twice without her. Truth to tell, she was a little afraid of her own counsel, and hoping Marian would have spirit enough to assert herself. One day she was very much surprised by the advent of Mr. Ralston.

"Yes, honey; he jes' done ask to see you, not yer mar ner ennyone! And he looks jes laik a lover comin' to de house," announced Julia, one of the waiting-maids.

Jaqueline went down with a deeper flush on her cheek and a beating heart. There was a courteous greeting, and then a touch of embarrassment. Ralston was first to surmount it.

"Miss Mason," he began abruptly, "when have you seen Miss Floyd?"

"Not since she was here. I have been away from home. Papa and part of the family were up last week."

"Will you read this note?"

It was from Marian – very brief and cold. She had considered the matter, and felt that it would be impossible to keep up the acquaintance. It would be useless either to come or to write.

"If Miss Floyd was merely amusing herself, of course that is the end of it. Do you know whether she has a lover? There was some mystery about her I could not quite fathom. I may have been misled, but I thought she cared for me. Indeed," he added, flushing a little and softening his tone, "it seemed a case of mutual attraction at first sight. We became such friends while she was at her sister's."

Jaqueline considered a moment. Then she said: "I had better tell you the whole story. And if you knew grandpapa – he is as arbitrary as a king. He looks like one too."

She recapitulated the advances of Mr. Greaves, and admitted that Marian was yielding and stood in awe of her father. "But I am quite certain she loves you," declared the incautious girl.

"I felt rather certain," with a satisfied half-smile. "And I can understand that Mr. Greaves is a rival not to be despised. I have no broad acres nor ancestral home, but youth and ambition and a good profession. Surely when Mr. Floyd comes to understand, he cannot force his daughter's inclinations! I will devote my whole life to her, my best energies. I am sure I shall succeed."

"Marian never could resist him if she saw him now," Jaqueline thought, he looked so proud and so in earnest. But Grandpapa Floyd!

"You give me hope. You are young to advise anyone in a love affair," and he laughed in a genial, amused fashion. "I came here because you knew about those two days, and I thought you might be more in Miss Floyd's confidence than her sister, though I can count on Mrs. Jettson's influence and approval, I am certain. Do you think Miss Floyd may have told her father?"

"Oh, no; I am sure she has not. Only I do think some influence has been brought to bear upon her, and she has felt afraid – "

Jaqueline looked very pretty and spirited, standing up straight and slim, her dark eyes aglow with earnestness and eager interest. She would not be afraid to stand up for her lover.

"Shall I go or write?"

"Oh, I am afraid to advise!" She turned pale then.

"And it is unmanly to ask it."

"Perhaps papa could tell better."

"I wonder if I might see him?"

"Oh, yes. Will you amuse yourself while I find him? Louis is away, and the children are having a picnic down in the grove."

Mr. Mason was ensconced in a willow easy-chair, with a high back and a cushion, while his wife was reading aloud from the pages of Oliver Goldsmith. He glanced up, and Jaqueline suddenly realized the gravity of the matter in hand.

"Mr. Ralston is here, and would like to see you, papa!" she exclaimed persuasively.

"Ah – can't you bring him out here?"

"It is quite important and – " hesitatingly.

"Yes, I'll come." He reached for his coat, and sighed at the added warmth.

Jaqueline slipped her hand through his arm.

"It's about – Marian."

"I was afraid there would be trouble. Jack, was their meeting here pure accident? Tell me the truth. Or did you have mischief in your mind?"

"It wasn't quite that. But Marian did not know. And I did not really promise Mr. Ralston."

"I wish you had kept out of it, my girl."

"But Marian does love him. And surely grandpapa will never make her marry that stupid old Mr. Greaves!"

"Take care. I am getting old."

"But you will never be stupid." She reached up and kissed him.

"You know grandfather is very fond of having his own way. Mr. Greaves isn't so bad, when all is said."

"You wouldn't make me marry him?"

"I am afraid I would have a tough job," and he laughed.

"Now I shall leave you to your own wisdom."

The squire nodded.

The young lover presented his case in a very straightforward, honorable fashion. Mr. Mason's heart went out to him, but he understood his stepfather's obstinacy and his dislike to be meddled with or thwarted. His mother was in favor of the marriage also, which would make it harder for Marian.

"If you write to Mr. Floyd you will receive a polite but decided dismissal. If you see him I am afraid the result will be the same, and less pleasant to remember."

"Do you suppose I am coward enough to relinquish the woman I love in such an emergency as this? If I heard from her own lips that she did not care for me, that would influence my conduct. But I am certain she does care, and I want her to know that I am ready to take any step for her happiness. I am too much of a soldier to give up without an effort, even if I have seen only fair-weather service. What would you have done in your youth?"

"Made a good fight," smiling at the other's eagerness.

"Then I shall go. To be merely dismissed would be mortifying. And any woman would despise such a tame lover! Thank you for your cordial reception. In any event I shall count on your friendship."

He shook Mr. Mason's hand warmly.

"But you will stay and have some supper with us? And why not accept our hospitality for the night?"

"Thank you. I have some important matters on hand to-morrow morning. I am truly sorry not to have a delightful evening with you, and I am indebted to you for this kindly attention on a troublesome subject. I sincerely trust that some day I shall stand in a nearer relation. You can wish me success – I hope?"

The truth and honor in the lines of the face appealed to the elder man. He had found so many charms in his new wife, so much sweetness in the daily love, that he could be generous in his wishes.

"Yes, I hope you will succeed," and the squire said it from the depth of his heart, although his latent judgment was not so hopeful.

"He will go to the Pineries," he said as he rejoined his wife and daughter. "It will not do any good, and I am afraid we are in for a family fracas. Marian may refuse to marry Mr. Greaves, but her father will not accept Ralston. I am sorry. They would make a nice, happy young couple."

"But she might wait a year or two."

"It isn't easy waiting when there is no real hope, and the influence is all on the other side. You see, Grandfather Floyd has trained his children to habits of obedience. He isn't turned about with every wind of doctrine, as I am. Not a child stands in awe of me. And when I pick out my future son-in-law, Miss Jaqueline, I expect you will turn up your pretty nose and utterly refuse him."

"I shall if he has four children belonging to another woman."

Her father raised his brows. The young girl turned scarlet and clasped her arms about Mrs. Mason's neck.

"Mother dear, forgive that awkward speech. We are all glad to have you, as you must be aware by this time, and since you are such a comfort and pleasure to papa it would be the height of jealous unamiability not to love you. But if you had left four children you wouldn't want me for their stepmother, would you, now? Confess the truth."

She looked very arch and pretty, and her voice had a persuasive cadence that amused her father.

"They might fare worse, my dear girl," returned Mrs. Mason. "I should trust Annis anywhere with you. And Marian would make a charming mother, but I do think she is entitled to some young, sweet life of her own. I cannot help thinking how one extreme begets another. Your grandparents are very authoritative – "

"Domineering is better," interposed the squire laughingly. "You are great for picking out the softer words, Patty. Mr. Floyd is of the old school, and his beliefs intensify with age. His children were put in the world to honor and obey him. Brandon married an heiress with an estate and no end of slaves. Jane slipped through with the man of her choice, but you can notice that he is rather captious about Arthur, who is doing very well and will be a rich man if he doesn't blunder in the Washington bogs. I think myself Marian and Dolly are kept in very narrow bounds. Dolly has a way of slipping out, but Marian is rather timid."

"The system has made her so, but I should think she would have inherited a good deal of spirit and force of character."

"I think I shall turn over a new leaf myself," declared the squire, with a twinkle of humor in his eye. "In the future, Miss Jaqueline, I wish you to consult me about your goings-out and comings-in. You are to say 'Sir' to me in the most respectful fashion. Perhaps your mother would like you to address her as 'Madam.' You are to take no hand in the affairs of foolish young lovers. You are not to go careering about the plantation on horseback, but to be sober, discreet, and industrious with your needle. Perhaps it would be well for you to keep a journal. Is there anything else? I must consult Aunt Catharine. Your mother is quite too easy."

There was a laugh in every dimple and line in the young girl's face. Any pretense of austerity sat oddly enough on the squire's round, humorous countenance.

There was a sudden interruption of the three younger children racing up the patch in a breathless fashion. Annis went straight to her mother's arms, Charles halted at his father's side and snatched his hand.

"Is Annis my sister truly, papa?"

"But it's just the same," interrupted Varina, whose tone indicated that she had been in a warm discussion. "And, papa, can he marry her?"

"More family difficulties!" declared the squire. "Is the world going crazy? And, Varina, marriages do not begin with the babies of the family."

"I'm not a baby." Charles straightened himself up to his tallest. "I said when I was a grown man I should marry Annis. I am going to study hard and go to Congress; perhaps I shall be sent abroad on some mission."

"And isn't the husband always the oldest, papa? Charles is almost two years younger than Annis."

"One year and eight months," corrected Charles. "I don't see what difference it can make. I shall be the tallest and earn the money. And she isn't my own sister. She isn't any real relation. But if she was my cousin I could marry her."

The squire laughed heartily, which rather disconcerted Varina.

"Truly," he said, "love seems to have broken out as a distemper. And so you want Annis for a sweetheart, Charles? What does Annis say to all this?"

Annis was caressing her mother's hand.

"She likes me better than anybody except her mother."

"Oh, little Annis, have you thrown me over? And after the pony, too!"

The squire's voice was whimsically upbraiding, and his glance touched her tender heart. She flew over to him.

"Oh, I do love you!" she cried. "But you have mamma, and I know I can never get back all of her."

"Do you want all of her back? Would you take her away?"

"I wouldn't have any home to take her to. And she likes it here and all the children and you, and I like it too now. I don't mind giving part of her away."

"And next she likes me." Charles went around and stood by her side in his manliest pose. They made a pretty picture.

"I thought you loved me a good deal," interposed Jaqueline.

"Oh, I love you all!" said the child, though she glanced doubtfully at Varina.

"But, then, girls don't marry ever, no matter how much they love each other," said the young admirer.

"And she is our sister," persisted Varina.

"Not in that sense, my little girl. And the age makes no difference. So she can be Charles' sweetheart until he goes to college and gets another one."

"But I do not mean ever to get another one. And we were playing keep house under the big hemlock. Dinah had made us some cookies. And Rene was the company – "

"I shall not be company any more," returned the child, with a toss of the head. "If you want Annis, take her then."

"There, children, no quarreling. Aren't the cookies good enough to be peacemakers?"

"But we've eaten them all up."

Varina marched off in a huff. Jaqueline was laughing. Mrs. Mason looked annoyed. The stepfather kissed Annis tenderly.

"There," he said, "run off and finish your play. Be the best of friends, and have the best times you can. The world will look different to you a dozen years hence, and love will settle perplexities."

Jaqueline had followed her sister, though she knew Varina was generally the marplot in their play.

"Oh, Randolph, how could you!" exclaimed Mrs. Mason, with a touch of upbraiding. "Such matters are too grave and serious for children's plays."

"Yet I suppose we have all taken a hand in it. When I was a boy of nine or ten I was very much in love with a young relative who used to visit us. She taught me to dance, and I remember I wrote some verses to her. She must have been at least fifteen, for two years later she married, and I was so surprised and hurt that I think I always hated her husband until I was nearly grown and fell in love again. And after that I met your cousin."

Mrs. Mason still looked unconvinced.

"It won't hurt Charles. I like to see boys chivalrous and devoted, and Annis is such a darling. It would delight me if they were old enough to have it all in sober earnest. There, do not look so grave over a little childish nonsense. Let us rather be fortifying ourselves for the avalanche that is to descend on our devoted heads. One can hardly blame Jaqueline, but I am afraid poor Marian will have a hard time. Presently we shall begin to be plagued with lovers."

Mrs. Mason gave a little sigh. It had been quite a task at first to induce Annis to be really friendly with the children; now she and Charles were inseparable. At first Varina had tormented them with childish jealousy, though there were not many of their enjoyments she wanted to share. Boisterous games and frolics were more to her fancy than books, but Annis could have listened forever. They were both extravagantly fond of flowers and rambling about. Mrs. Mason had so many duties to the household and the slaves, that she was often relieved when the little girl found amusement elsewhere. And Charles was an admirable companion, with his even temper, his heroic romances, his innate love for whatever was noble and true, his courtesy and kindliness. In the earlier years Varina had quite tyrannized over him, but as their tastes began to differ he quietly emancipated himself with the rare art born in some people. The tutor had given him a dignity of position. Annis appreciated this quiet side of his nature, though she enjoyed the songs and dances and frolics of the pickaninnies, and often joined in a game of romps.

Just now the mother had a half-jealous feeling that her child should find satisfaction elsewhere. There were so many years between her and womanhood that it was foolish to pay heed to the child's play, she knew.

From various causes they had not made their usual weekly visit to the Pineries. Jaqueline half wished Patricia would insist upon going, but she did not. As for herself, she hardly dared venture, lest some untoward questions might be asked.

And so one day the old-fashioned yellow coach with driver and footman turned up the avenue. There had been a recent rain, and the air was cool and fragrant. Mr. and Mrs. Mason were out on the wide porch at the northern end. Dinner was over, and the squire had tilted back his chair where he could lean against the great square column, and prepared for his siesta.

Mrs. Mason was sewing. The girls were in the big swing under some great sycamore trees, and Louis was lounging on the grass.

"Randolph, your mother and Mr. Floyd," said his wife, startled.

Mr. Mason rose, but the footman had helped out Mr. Floyd, who sat nearest, and Mr. Mason clasped his mother's hand after she had alighted.

"This is a great surprise and pleasure, but the air is magnificent, just the day for driving. I was over to the courthouse most of the morning. I've had that bother of the Chaffee estate on my hands, but we are getting it into shape. It has taken a good deal of my time."

"We had looked for you up," returned his mother, with a touch of asperity in her tone.

"Scipio, see that the horses are put out – "

"The horses have been attended to. We stopped at Rhoby's and had a little rest and a bite of something."

"But you will have dinner – "

"No, no!" Mr. Floyd waved his long white hand impressively. "We have not come to stay, and will drive back presently."

Mrs. Mason had come forward and greeted her guests. But she felt the storm in the air, and caught the perplexity in her husband's eye.

"Shall we go within?"

"No; it is so much pleasanter here. There is enough time in winter to be shut up in rooms. Give me the great world out of doors, when it is neither too hot nor too cold."

"All are well, I suppose?" asked Mrs. Mason.

"Brandon's little son is quite ill – the second child. We only heard last evening. Some kind of a fever. I hope it will not be severe. They are fine boys," declared their grandmother with pride.

"We have escaped wonderfully on the plantation. Very little sickness so far," Mr. Mason remarked, and there was an ominous pause.

"Mr. Mason," began the old gentleman, clearing his voice, "I had a visitor a few days ago, who, I understood, had your countenance in a very impertinent matter. I was amazed that you should for a moment entertain the thought that anything he might say would be acceptable to me – to us," glancing at his wife.

Randolph Mason met the issue squarely.

"You mean Lieutenant Ralston?"

"That ill-bred puppy who, if he wants to do his country any service, had better go out against the Indians and protect the border people from their depredations instead of flirting around after women. I wonder that you sent him on such a fool's errand. You knew my plans concerning my daughter Marian?"

"I advised him to write to you, but he was very much in earnest and thought he could plead his cause better."

"The fellow is a silly, insufferable idiot! Yes – I know," waving his hand authoritatively, "the kind of people Jane consorts with, and I might have been certain the society there would do the girls no good. But that you should not only aid and abet him, but allow your home to be made the scene of an intrigue, is treating your mother and myself shamefully, and exposing your young sister to the machinations of an unprincipled fellow! If you choose to allow your daughters to consort with such cattle – "

"Hold, Mr. Floyd! I will not have an honorable young man accused in that manner, neither will I allow you to traduce my household. There was no intrigue, but an accidental meeting here – "

Mr. Floyd rose in a passion, his eyes sparkling, his face flushed.

"Do you dare to tell me there was no underhand plan in all this? Jaqueline's adroitly worded note, that might have aroused suspicion if we had not considered you above such a scheme. It was atrocious, sir! We had refused to have her visit her sister on that account. She had met the young man there. And how was it he should come at this particular juncture?"

"My son brought him down from Washington. He is in the habit of asking his friends. Another friend was coming, Mr. Roger Carrington."

"Where is Louis? Let me see him. Let him deny his part of the plan, if he can, with truth."

"Mr. Floyd, do common justice to the young man. He is a fine, highly esteemed person, in a good position, and numbers his friends among the best. His attentions would be no insult to any woman. That a pretty young girl should be admired is no uncommon thing; that more than one man should want to marry her is nothing derogatory. You may not care to accept him for a son-in-law – "

"She should not marry him if she never married at all!" thundered the irascible old man. "I had other and better plans for her. Some months ago one of our most estimable neighbors, a man of large property and unsullied reputation, asked for her hand. Being a widower, he would make no advances until the year of mourning had expired, which certainly evinced a delicacy worthy of all commendation. Marian knew she was as good as betrothed. Ha! Louis!" as the young man crossed the porch. "Tell me the truth, sir? Did you not bring that scheming adventurer down here to meet Marian?"

"I have no idea to whom you refer. I have no such person on my list of acquaintances," declared Louis haughtily.

"That beggarly lieutenant! Don't tell me he wouldn't be glad enough to marry a girl with a good dower."

"I certainly asked Lieutenant Ralston to come with Mr. Carrington. I knew the Fairfax girls were to be here, but Marian was a surprise to me."

"You are not telling the truth, young man."

"Very well. Believe as you like." Louis turned on his heel and walked off indignantly.

"Father," said Mrs. Floyd reprovingly, "Jaqueline must have known. It was her letter that made all the trouble. I dare say Louis was not in the plot."

Mrs. Floyd was proud of her fine-looking grandson. He had always been a favorite.

"Yes; where is that deceitful girl? I warn you, Randolph Mason, that you will have trouble with one so headstrong and lawless."

"You forget you are speaking of my daughter."

"I don't care whose daughter she is!" the old man roared in his anger. "I want to tell her that her schemes have fallen through, that she has only made Marian a miserable, disobedient girl in encouraging this wicked fancy when she was on the eve of an engagement with her parents' approval and sanction."

Jaqueline walked across the path and up the steps with her head held haughtily erect.

"I am here to answer for any crime I may have committed," she said in a clear, cutting tone. "Papa allows us some liberty in choosing our friends, and certainly as guests in the house they are under his supervision. The Fairfaxes were old neighbors. The Carringtons were old friends of my own mother and her dear cousin. Mr. Ralston is held in high esteem in Washington. I was not at all sure Marian would come when I wrote, but I thought it a good opportunity – "

"For that fellow to turn her head with his wretched nonsense, to make her silly and disobedient and full of romantic notions. But it will do no good, I tell you! She has been proposed to in due form by Mr. Greaves, and you may notify your friend that she is engaged. And, Miss Jaqueline, I warn you not to write her any letters upholding your views, which are certainly most pernicious and shocking for a young girl. Until she is married you are not to meet again. I call you a dangerous girl."

"That will do," said Randolph Mason, coming and taking his daughter's hand in his. "I think you quite forget yourself, Mr. Floyd. If Marian had not cared for this young man there would not have been any trouble. Beware how you compel her to marry one man while her heart is another's!"

"My daughter has been trained to habits of obedience and respect for her parents' opinions," returned the old gentleman loftily. "You will find that you have made a great mistake in the rearing of yours. But, on the other hand, they have been bereft of a mother's wisdom and care, such as your mother has given to mine," and he bowed in a courtly fashion to Mrs. Floyd. "I am afraid that you, madam," turning to Mrs. Mason, "will find your way a thorny one indeed, if you have any regard for the probity and welfare of these children you have undertaken to train."

"We will not go into a discussion of methods," returned Mr. Mason with a sort of dry austerity. "I am sorry that Marian's meeting Lieutenant Ralston here should have led to such an unpleasant culmination. Young people of to-day do have more liberty than the older generation, yet I should have taken it very hard if Jaqueline Verney's father had compelled her to marry a man she did not like when she loved me. So we cannot blame the young man for trying – "

"That was a suitable, sensible match," interrupted Mr. Floyd. "This is a foolish, sentimental affair. And I have to say if it receives any more encouragement from this house, it will make a lasting breach. If Marian should dare to leave her home and throw herself on this fellow's protection we should cast her out altogether, and she would be no daughter of ours."

"Father, father!" entreated Mrs. Floyd, placing her hand upon his arm.

"I mean it. This is my warning. I will not be interfered with."

Mr. Mason had been standing beside his wife's chair. Now he advanced toward his stepfather.

"I have made my apology. I am sorry such a thing should have happened here, though I cannot find it in my heart to blame the young people. And now let us heal the difference. Have a glass of wine and some refreshments."

"We must return at once. It is a long ride. But I wanted you to know what your daughter's meddling had led to, and my unalterable determination. Come, Elizabeth," holding out his hand to his wife. "We shall be glad to see you and Mrs. Patricia, but for the present I insist there shall be no communication with the young people."

He glared at the group and turned away. Mr. Mason offered no further entreaty, but went around to his mother's side.

"Twice you have married the man of your choice," he said in a low tone. "I suppose you have been very happy. Try and deal gently with Marian and persuade rather than force."

"You will understand when your girls want to make unsuitable and willful marriages. You had better look sharply after Jaqueline. When Marian is left alone she will soon recover her tranquil frame of mind. Jane is interdicted as well. Jane has grown very frivolous since she has had so much Washington society. And Mrs. Madison is extremely worldly and vain, and not to be compared with Mrs. Adams or Mrs. Washington."

Mrs. Mason rose and bade her guests a formal adieu. Mr. Mason walked down the broad steps and saw them seated in the coach. When it had turned into the winding part of the avenue Jaqueline made a rush and flung her arms around her father's neck.

"Oh, papa, dear! – I never supposed it would make any trouble. And I wasn't sure Mr. Ralston would come, or Marian either, for that matter, and I never said a word to Marian. Jane is so much interested in the matter, and both she and Mr. Jettson like Mr. Ralston so very much. But grandpapa grows more and more arbitrary – "

"Of course he was very much vexed. I am afraid I am a foolish fellow and let you children run over me. You don't even seem to stand in awe of your stepmother. I shall have to get my backbone stiffened by some process."