The elder of the two was dressed in a manner that would better become a miss of twenty than a matron who was on the shady side of fifty; and the young lady, though not displaying the ingrained vulgarity of the mother, was not costumed with that simple elegance that would indicate a refined taste.

They were the wife and daughter of John Sealy, Esq., whom we have already introduced to our fit readers.

"I don't think, Luella," said the mother, "you should hesitate for a moment in deciding between Bill Barton and Mr. Ginsling."

"Neither do I, mother; but while I would prefer the former, I should judge, from your accent on the 'Bill,' your preference would be given to the latter."

"It certainly would, Luella; for what has Barton to offer a young lady of your wealth? He has neither looks, nor money, nor position. I think he had a great deal of a.s.surance to come to see you, in the first place. He knows my opinion in regard to the matter; and, if I am not mistaken, thinks about as much of me as I do of him, and that is not saying a great deal."

"What has Ginsling to offer, mother, besides his bloated face and aristocratic airs? And then he looks nearly as old as pa."

"He is a gentleman, Luella, and is from one of the most aristocratic houses in England." Mrs. Sealy particularly emphasized the fact of his being of an old family; for, like all artificial and vulgar natures, she would have made any sacrifices to be related in any way to those whom she endeavored, though ineffectually, to copy. "As to age, Luella," she continued, "though he may be a few years older, that does not signify. I prefer to see a husband a few years older than his wife. Your father is ten years older than I am, and yet, I am sure, the difference is not particularly noticeable, though I do not think time has been particularly severe upon me." And the lady viewed her rather good-looking face in the gla.s.s, and, from the complacent look that swept over it, one would be led to believe the answer to her interrogation was to her eminently satisfactory.

"Mother, all I have to say is, I love William Barton, while I cannot help loathing Ginsling. You say the former has neither money, nor position, nor beauty; though in regard to the latter a.s.sertion, it will be sufficient for me to say we differ. But if he has neither of these he has brains, and manhood, and purity."

"I don't see anything particularly smart about him, Luella; and in regard to purity he is, I suppose, on a level with, the average young man about town."

"Now, ma, it is not fair to speak of him in that manner; for I am sure you know of nothing but what's to his credit, and if Ginsling is what you term a gentleman by birth, he certainly is not one by instinct; though no one can truthfully make such an a.s.sertion in regard to William Barton."

"As you just remarked, Luella, there may be difference of opinion as to which is by nature the greater gentleman, but, as I said before, I can't conceive how he had the audacity to come to see you, in the first place."

"I guess he wouldn't have come if he had not received some encouragement; and I am sure, ma, he is not only my equal but my superior in every respect."

"You don't mean to say, Luella Sealy," said the mother, with what seemed at least indignation, "that you were so unmaidenly as to make the first advances to this young man. If I thought you were capable of doing such a thing I should be ashamed of you. It would be bad enough if he were your equal, and a gentleman, but when he is a mere bank clerk and a person of no position, how you could descend to do so is beyond my comprehension."

"Mother," said the daughter, while a quizzical smile lit up her face, "when pa came to see you did you not encourage him, or in some manner give him to understand that his visits were not altogether distasteful to you? From what I have heard pa say, I should rather think you did. Now, ma, I rather liked William Barton; and while I did not tell him so, he seemed in some manner or other to find out my secret, and I have not tried to deceive him."

"But, Luella," said her mother,--not replying to her daughter's mischievous reference to her days of romance and love, for, like many other ambitious, scheming mothers, if she ever had such a foolish emotion as love, she had forgotten it, or else she had been led to believe it was all Moonshine; and if a girl only married wealth and position, she thought love would come,--"what is the use of acting so foolishly? If you marry William Barton you will have to leave the set with which you are now a.s.sociating, and if you degrade yourself by a _mesalliance_ you will drag us down with you."

"You had better wait, mother, until he asks me to marry him."

"No! I want to talk it over now, and then you will be prepared to act like a sensible girl. If Barton wishes to marry you it is because you have money, and he will bring you nothing in exchange but degradation. How the McWrigglers will sneer if such a thing happens! They schemed and plotted until they got Captain Merton to marry that baby-faced Elaine; and because he is an officer in the English army and the youngest son of a gentleman, they have been putting on airs ever since; and they are now so stuck-up there is scarcely any living for them."

"I am sure, ma, they are welcome to him, for I hear he does not use her very kindly when he is in liquor, which is most of the time."

"Oh! I guess that is like a great deal of what people say-- scandal. I am certain since that alliance they have moved in society into which they could not gain entrance before. Now, if you marry Stanley Ginsling, as he is first cousin to Lord Fitzjinkins, we will have the _entree_ to society to which they dare not aspire; and then the airs of superiority can be on our side, not theirs."

"So, ma, you would have me marry a sot, who is twice my age, and whom I detest, in order that you may have a paltry advantage over one who, when she calls, you kiss and use the most endearing epithets in your vocabulary, in order to express your friendship for her. To tell you the truth, I don't see much in what you call 'our set,' to encourage me to sacrifice myself in order to remain in it. When you meet you are all honey, smiles, and kisses, and you profess to be the dearest of friends; and yet you are constantly endeavoring to gain some petty triumph at each other's expense, and then to relate it in such a manner as to cut and cause envy and jealousy. 'Our set,' ma, is too superficial and spiteful for me to wish to remain in it."

"Your remarks, Luella, are the reverse of complimentary; but I am not going to be angry. If you don't like the set you are in get above it. If you only become the wife of one who, some day, will become the Hon. Stanley Ginsling, you will be lifted out of anything of that kind."

"You mean dragged beneath it, ma. It would be a nice thing to be a drunkard's wife."

"O there is no fear of that. The majority of men drink before they are married. All they want is a good wife, and then they settle down; and as to that, I have been told that Barton drinks. So there is as, much danger with one as the other. You had better be sensible, dear, for your father will feel like disowning you if you marry Barton, and he has set his heart upon a match between you and Mr. Ginsling."

"Mother, I don't believe William Barton drinks; and it is wrong to repeat as fact what is nothing but malicious scandal. I also think it is very unkind of you to threaten me, and thus try and force me to marry one I despise. Surely, since I will have to live with the man I marry, I should have some choice in the matter."

After she thus spoke she abruptly left the room in a pa.s.sion of tears.

The mother did not introduce the subject again, but it was constantly in her mind, and she knew Luella would not forget it.

She understood her daughter's weak points, and had no doubt if she persevered she would gain her end. In fact, though Luella Sealy was in every respect, except in narrow strength, her mother's superior, yet her intellectual and moral nature was not all golden--there were some parts of baser metal, and even of clay, in her composition. As the reader will conclude from her conversation with her mother, she possessed more than ordinary intelligence, which was subdued and chastened by the emotions of a warm, loving heart; and if uninfluenced she would have proved true to a friend, even though it caused her self-sacrifice and suffering. But yet she was not of the stuff of which martyrs are made, for she was weak, being easily persuaded, and withal a little selfish; and though she would endure a great deal for friendship's sake, yet when the opposing forces came on thick and fast, and persevered in their effort--when that opposition came which would have caused a stronger nature to be all the more real--she would yield to the opposing forces and desert the one who trusted her, leaving him to endure scorn and contumely alone.

She had met William Barton at a party, and, being introduced by a mutual friend, was fascinated by his manly bearing and intelligent, racy conversation. And he, as his blood tingled at coy cupid's whisperings, soliloquized: "She is the most intelligent and charming girl I ever saw." They met several times at parties during the winter, and he became marked in his attentions, which she did not discourage. And soon--at least on his part--the friendship ripened into genuine love; and she, as the sequel will show, though for a time carried down by the force of an opposing current, really entertained for him an undying affection.

William Barton was the son of respectable parents who resided in Bayton. They were comparatively poor, but managed to give their son a good business education. He had entered as a junior clerk in one of the banks of the town, and, by strict attention to business and a natural adaptation to the profession chosen, had risen to a position of considerable responsibility.

He was a young man of more than average ability, not strictly handsome, but possessed a good figure and pleasant, intelligent countenance, though the lower portion of the face was disappointing, for it did not denote decision of character or ma.s.sive strength.

And the face was an index of the man, for he was so intelligent, kindly and gentle in his manner, that he was a favorite in society; but he was volatile, and easily influenced for good or evil.

As he was moving in the best society of the town when he met Miss Sealy, her father and mother did not, at first, object to his keeping company with their daughter, though his attentions were very marked indeed. But when Stanley Ginsling appeared upon the scene, and they learned he was the scion of an old and aristocratic family--a near kin to a live lord--their vain, selfish, and artificial minds became excited, and they determined, if possible, to have the latter allied with the house of Sealy, then they turned against Barton.

From this time Mrs. Sealy especially gave the latter to understand his visits were simply tolerated, and Mr. Sealy took no pains to conceal the fact that something had transpired to change his views in regard to him.

Barton went one evening determined, if possible, to discover the cause of their coldness. He was received by Luella with her usual cordiality, but by her mother with marked discourtesy bordering on rudeness. He was scarcely seated when Mr. Sealy came in, accompanied by Stanley Ginsling; and as Mrs. Sealy received the latter with special attention, which, was all the more noticeable because of her icy reserve in Barton's case, the latter thought he understood the situation.

"Can it be possible," he soliloquized, "they are anxious to get rid of me that the coast may be clear for that drunken loafer?"

The thought at first could be scarcely entertained, it seemed so monstrous; but before he left he had substantial reasons for believing that Mr. and Mrs. Sealy were actually scheming to make a match between Ginsling and Luella.

Barton and Luella were both sitting on the sofa, when Mr. Sealy and Stanley Ginsling came in, much to Mrs. Sealy's disgust, and she managed to separate them several times during the evening by resorting to the manoeuvres which never fail an accomplished female tactician; but as her daughter invariably returned to her seat near Barton, she was determined to make a final effort that should not fail.

"Luella," she said, "will you kindly favor us with a little music?

Give us that duet Mr. Ginsling and you rendered the other evening.

You have a magnificent ba.s.s voice, sir," she said to Mr. Ginsling, in her most dulcet tones; "will you not kindly a.s.sist Miss Sealy?"

"Your will is my pleasure," Ginsling replied, "though I would rather sit and listen while Miss Sealy gives us a number of her varied and delightful selections. The last time I was here I thought her playing was exquisite."

"Mr. Barton will excuse you," said Mrs. Sealy, after a significant pause, and her tone conveyed the idea that the remark was merely a cold conventionalism.

"Certainly," he replied.

Luella reluctantly left her seat on the sofa and took her position at the piano. The mother had certainly manifested the astuteness of an accomplished artist, for she had not only separated her daughter and Barton, but by her manner wounded his sensitive nature, and had also given Mr. Ginsling to understand that, if he wished to pay his addresses to Miss Sealy, his doing so would be eminently satisfactory to her parents.

Barton's position, after what had occurred, was an unenviable one, for he was placed in the cruel dilemma of either remaining in a home where his presence was not agreeable to the host and hostess, or abruptly leaving without having an understanding with the one he so dearly loved. He chose the latter alternative, and burning with indignation, but with cool exterior, he took advantage of the pause which ensued after Miss Sealy and Ginsling had finished their duet, and politely took his leave. Luella, though she knew it was contrary to her mother's wishes, accompanied him to the door and bade him an affectionate goodbye.

These events transpired on the day previous to that on which the mother and daughter engaged in the conversation which is related in the commencement of this chapter.

CHAPTER XXVII.

BARTON'S DESPAIR, AND WHAT IT LED TO.

It would be impossible to give an a.n.a.lysis of William Barton's feelings as he walked rapidly away from the Sealy residence upon the night in question.

In the evening he had gone to the home of one whom he had looked upon as his betrothed bride, with calm confidence. True, he had not as yet asked her to be his wife, though he had vowed again and again he would do so; and had determined that very evening he would get her to give the pledge that should bind them for ever.

He had no misgivings as to her answer. He had, however, lately been somewhat pained by Mrs. Sealy's not receiving him with the cordiality that she once did; but he had not thought there would be serious opposition to his suit. He argued: "Luella certainly loves me, and will be as true as the needle to the pole, and her mother will give way when she is convinced that if she does not she will be sacrificing her daughter's happiness." But when he left, this calm a.s.surance had been succeeded by positive fear; his joy by agonizing doubt; and dread and disgust, jealousy and fierce hatred, reigned supreme in his soul.