"What has been the trouble?" asked Kennedy.

"I don't know. They came, and went--

'Their hold was frail, their stay was brief, Restless, and quick to pa.s.s away'--

while she remains," replied Case. "Bart seems to be a new inspiration, and she is as gay and lively as a spring b.u.t.terfly."

"And worth forty young flirts," observed Ransom.

"Oh, come, boys!" cried Bart, "hold up. Miss Giddings is an attractive woman, full of accomplishment and goodness--"

"And experience," put in Case.

"Who permits me to enjoy her society sometimes," continued Bart. "The benefit and pleasure are wholly mine, and I can't consent to hear her spoken of so lightly."

"Bart is right, as usual," said Case, gravely; "and I don't know of anything more unmanly than the way we young men habitually talk of women."

"Except the way they talk of us," said Kennedy.

"You would expect a lady to speak in an _un_manly way," remarked Bart.

"Of course, if we are ever spoken of by them, it is in our absence; but I'll venture that they seldom speak of us at all, and then in ignorance of our worst faults. We are not likely to receive injustice at their hands."

"Bart, you must always have been lucky," said Ransom.

"I am doing my best not to be conceited and vain, and find it confounded hard work," was the frank, good-natured reply.

CHAPTER XL.

THE DISGUISE.

Mrs. Ridgeley received the following:

"JEFFERSON, June 8, 1838.

"_Dear Mother_:--A strange thing has happened to me, for which I am indebted to Henry; indeed, I am destined to trade upon his capital.

You remember how kind he said a Mr. Windsor was to him, employing him to transact small business matters for him, and paying him largely, besides making him useful and valuable presents? He seems to have been dissatisfied with himself for not doing more, and I am to be the recipient of his bounty in full.

"He called to see me about a week ago; and then two or three days after, he sent a carriage for me, and I have just returned. He is very wealthy, an old bachelor, lives elegantly, is a thoroughly educated man, and not eccentric, except in his liking to Henry, which he transfers to me. He is without near relations, and has had a history.

Now he insists on advancing to me enough to carry me through, clothing me, and starting me with a fine library. He says I must go East to a law school at least a year, and so start from a most favorable and advanced position.

"It took my breath away. It seems fairly wrong that I should permit myself to take this man's money, for whom I have done nothing, and to whom I can make no return, and whose money I might never repay.

He laughed, and said I was very simple and romantic. Wasn't the money his? and couldn't he do what he pleased with it? and if he invested it in me, n.o.body was harmed by it. I told him I might be; I am not sure that I should be safe with the pressure and stimulus of poverty removed from me.

"Moreover he had purchased an elegant watch, to be given to Henry, on his marriage with poor Miss Aikens, of whom I told you; and this he insists on my taking and wearing, with a chain big and long enough to hang me in. I told him if he wanted to give it away, that it should, I thought, properly go to Miss A.--to whom, by the way, I gave that beautiful pin. I cannot wear anything that was Henry's, and this would be one objection to wearing this watch. Mr. Windsor said it certainly was never intended for Ida; that it had never been Henry's, that it was mine, and I had to bring it away. I feel guilty, and as if I had swindled or stolen, or committed some mean act; and as I hold it to my ear, its strong beat reproaches me like the throb of a guilty heart.

"What can I do? Your feelings are right, and your judgment is good.

I can't afford to be killed with a weight of obligation, nor must I remit or relax a single effort. This may stimulate me more. If I were to relax and lie down now, and let another carry me, I should deserve the scorn and contempt I have received.

"Write me upon this, and don't mention it to the Colonel.

"I have made the acquaintance of Miss Giddings, who is very kind to me; and she and Ida furnish that essential element of ladies' society which you desired I should have. I confess I don't care much for men; but I have so little to give in return for the kindness of these n.o.ble, refined and intellectual ladies, that here again I am a receiver of alms. No matter; women never receive any proper return from men, any way.

"Ask Ed and George to write, and tell me all the little pleasant details of the farm life and home. How tender and sweet and dear it all is to me; and what a gulf seems to have opened between me and all the past!

"Ever with love, dear mother,

BART."

Mrs. Ridgeley received and read the letter in the store. While she was absorbed in it. Mrs. Markham came in, and was struck by the expression of her face. As she finished the perusal, she discovered Mrs. Markham, and her look of recognition induced the latter to approach her. The incidents of the last few weeks had silently ripened the liking of the two women into a very warm and cordial feeling. As Mrs. Markham approached, the other gave her her hand, and held out Bart's letter.

Mrs. Markham received it, and as her eye ran over it, Mrs. Ridgeley could easily see the look of pleasure and warmth that lit up her face.

"Oh, by all means," she said, "tell him not hesitate a moment.

Providence has sent him a friend, and means, and his pride should not be in the way of this offer."

"He is proud," said Mrs. Ridgeley, gravely; "but it is not wholly pride that makes him hesitate."

"Pardon me," said Mrs. Markham, "I don't mean to blame him; I sympathize with even his pride, and admire him for the very qualities that prevented his allowing us to aid him, and I hope those high qualities will never lose a proper influence over him."

The mother was a little more than appeased.

"Am I to read the rest?"

"Certainly."

And she resumed. A little graver she looked at one or two lines, and then the sweet smile and light came back to her face; and she handed back the letter.

"What a treasure to you this son must be," she said; and she again urged her to write to Bart at once, and induce him to accept the kind offer made to him.

Mrs. Ridgeley explained who Miss Aikens was, and her relations to Henry; that Miss Giddings was the daughter of the member of Congress, &c. Mrs. Markham had noticed that Bart spoke of them as "ladies," and not as young ladies, though what mental comment she made upon it was never known.

People in the country go by the almanac, instead of by events, as in cities; and May quickened into June, June warmed into July, and ran on to fervid August. Quiet ruled in the Ridgeley cottage, rarely broken, save when Julia galloped up and made a pleasant little call, had a game of romps with George, a few quick words with Edward; an enquiry, or adroit circ.u.mlocution, would bring out Bart's name, which the young lady would hear with the most innocent air in the world. She always had some excuse; she was going, returning to, or from some sick person, or on some kind errand. Once or twice later, young King, of Ravenna, accompanied her; and still later, Mr. Thornd.y.k.e was riding with her frequently.

It was observed that while her beauty had perfected, if possible, the character of her face had deepened, and a tenderer light was in her eyes. As the time came for Bart's examination, she carelessly remarked that he would be home soon, and was told that he had decided to take a short course in the Albany law-school, and would go directly from Jefferson; that when he left in the spring, he had determined not to return to Newbury until the end of a year; but that his mother might expect him certainly at that time. Julia was turning over a bound volume of the _New York Mirror_, and came upon a Bristol board, on which was a fine pen-and-ink outline head of Bart. She took it up and asked Mrs. Ridgeley if she might have it. "Certainly," was the answer, "if you wish it," and she carried it away. After leaving the house she discovered on the other side, a better finished and more artistic likeness of herself in crayon, with her hair falling about her neck and shoulders; and surrounding it, two or three outlines of her features in profile, which she recognized by the hair--one of poor Bart's "ships" that had escaped the general burning.

Barton decided to avail himself of the kindness of Mr. Windsor, and quietly made his arrangements accordingly. The summer was very pleasant to him. He devoted himself with his usual ardor to his books, but gave much of his leisure to Ida, who began to feel the approach of a calamity that gradually extinguished the light in her eyes. She was already suffering--although not antic.i.p.ating a serious result--a pressure in the forehead, and a gradual impairing of vision, without pain. Under its shadow, that no medical art could dissipate, she found a wonderful solace in the tender devotion of her newly found brother, who read to her, walked with her, and occasionally rode with her, in all tender, manly ways surrounding her with an atmosphere of kind and loving observances, which she more than repaid, with the strong, healthy and pure womanly influence, which she exercised over him.

CHAPTER XLI.

THE INVITATION.