A Little Girl of Long Ago 18 – Douglas · Verses Across
Literature · Historical Fiction
A Little Girl of Long Ago 18The Little Girl Grown Up
18
Literature · Historical Fiction
A Little Girl of Long Ago 18
The Little Girl Grown Up
DouglasEnglish
Mrs. Underhill said "No." It was not to be thought of for a moment. Hanny in short frocks!
"It would have to be made long in the skirt, I suppose," returned Joe, gravely.
"Long! What are you talking about!"
"She would enjoy seeing the dancing. And when she was an old lady, and Thackeray dead, she could tell her children she was at a banquet with the great novelist."
"What nonsense you do talk, Joe."
Doctor Joe laughed, gave his mother a squeeze and a kiss that brought the bright colour to her cheek, and then went off to comfort two rich old patients who had nothing the matter with them, except the infirmities of age. They thought there was no one like Dr. Underhill.
Perhaps his mother thought so, too. She was taking a good deal of comfort with him in these days, when she had cast Ben a little out of her good graces. She had a hope that Ben's sturdy common sense would convince him after a while that Delia would make a poor, improvident wife. And there was a chance that, while Ben was waiting to get ready, some one might capture Delia. She sincerely hoped it would be some one well-to-do and deserving, and who could afford servants and a generous household expenditure. Ben would get over it in time.
And much as she enjoyed Joe, she wanted him to marry and have a home and family of his very own. But was any one good enough for such a sweet, generous, noble soul!
Of course Hanny couldn't go; that was a foregone conclusion. But then the Jaspers were going, and it wasn't like taking a young girl out in society. Just one night would not matter. Daisy had been to several grown-up festivities abroad, where they were ever so much more strenuous about girls. There would be so many people, they would pass in the throng unnoticed; and it was not like a public ball.
It was a little odd, but Miss Cynthia settled it finally. Her verdict seemed to settle a good many things. She did not "dress-make" very steadily now; but there were some folks who thought they couldn't have a wedding, or a large party, without Miss Cynthia's advice and assistance.
She came to spend the day. Grandmother Van Kortlandt enjoyed her very much, as she could not visit a great deal herself. Cynthia always had the latest news about all the relatives. She gossiped in a bright social fashion, with no especial ill-nature, or sharp criticism, indeed her sharpnesses were amusing for the bit of real fun in them.
"Why, of course she ought to go," declared Miss Cynthia. "I'd like to see the great man myself, and shake hands with him, though I am not over fond of the English; and I do hope and pray he won't go home and make fun of us. As for the dancing, and all that, Peggy Underhill, you went to lots of frolics before you were as old as Hanny, and had young men beauing you round. I don't see but you have made a good and capable wife and mother; and it didn't hurt you a bit."
"But I was not going to school."
"It wasn't the fashion then. And now women are in Oberlin College, studying the same things as the men; and they fall in love and get married just as they always did. The ball, or whatever you call it, won't hurt Hanny a bit. There will be the Jaspers, and Joe, and Ben, and I'm sure that's enough to take care of one little girl."
"She has nothing to wear; she is still in short frocks. And the idea of buying a ball-dress, that she won't want until next winter!"
"Now see here. Let's look over the old things. There's her blue silk, outgrown of course. They ruffle everything now, and it will be wide enough for that. And I can just cover the waist, and ruffle the skirt with white tarleton. It is nearly two yards wide, and makes lovely trimming. There's no use saving it up for Stephen's children."
They all laughed at that.
"And, Aunt Marg'ret," to grandmother, "why didn't you keep your little girl shut up in a band-box, while all the other girls were having good times and getting lovers? She might have been a queer, particular, fidgety old maid, instead of having a nice family for us to quarrel over."
"I will buy her a new dress," said grandmother.
"She doesn't want anything but a few yards of tarleton. She won't be likely to get into the papers. She and Miss Daisy will sit and look on, and just whisper to each other, and feel afraid to say their souls are their own; but they'll enjoy the pretty dressing and the dancing, and they will see how the thing is done when it comes their turn in good earnest."
So Mrs. Underhill had to give in. Grandmother slipped five dollars in Miss Cynthia's hand, as she was going away.
"If that falls short, I'll give you some more. And you just buy that tarleton."
Hanny wasn't quite sure, and never said a word at school until the very day. But she and Daisy had a thrill of delight talking it over. Miss Cynthia came armed with the tarleton. The skirt was let down; but girls' long dresses were not sweeping length in those days. Then it was covered with narrow ruffles that suggested drifting clouds over an azure sky. The bodice was not outgrown, after all. It was covered with the tarleton, and had a fall of beautiful old lace around the shoulders, a pretty frill at the neck, and short sleeves. Joe bought her white gloves, and she had a blue sash.
Miss Cynthia came in to dress her; but the little girl had a quivering fear that something had happened to her maid, for it was full eight o'clock. She put her back hair in a French twist, much worn then, with two big rings right on the top of her head that looked like a crown. Her front hair she curled over an iron, and then combed it out; and it was a mass of fluffy waves, gathered in bandeaux just above her ears. She had her mother's beautiful pearl earrings, that had come from France with the old French grandmother, and a handsome mother-of-pearl-topped comb in her hair.
They put on the ball-dress. "Now look at yourself," said Miss Cynthia, "and get used to it before I let in the folks."
Hanny stood before her mother's tall mirror. Oh, this was Miss Nan Underhill, and she had never seen her before. There was a mystery about her,--a sudden sense of a strange, beautiful, unseen world, a new country she was going into, an old world left behind, an intangible recreation that no words could explain, but that touched her with a kind of exalted sacredness, as if a new life was unfolding all about her. She hardly dared stir or breathe.
"For a girl with no special beauty, I think you look very well. But, land sakes! You'll see no end of handsome girls; Margaret and Jim carried off the beauty of this family."
Miss Cynthia's voice recalled her from the vision of coming womanhood, that she was to live over again on her wedding night, with its holy blessedness enshrining her within her bridal veil.
Her father's eyes shone with a softness that looked like tears. Her mother viewed her all over with a critical air.
"I must say, Cynthia, you've done wonderfully. The dress looks very nice. And now, Hanny, I do hope you won't be forward or silly. Mind everything Mrs. Jasper says, and don't you and Daisy giggle. Be careful and don't lose Margaret's handkerchief. I don't just know as you ought to carry that."
Joe said she was lovely; and Jim really was very complimentary. He did wish that he was going. But Jim counted the cost of everything now, for he was trying to get out of debt.
The coach came up from the Jaspers' and Hanny was put inside. Joe insisted on sharing the box with the driver.
When Daisy took off her wrap in the dressing-room, she had on a pale pink silk. Part of her curls were tied up in a bunch on top of her head, and fastened with a silver arrow and two roses. She would always wear it in ringlets, or at least until she was so old she wouldn't mind about her shoulders being not quite straight.
The affair was a banquet primarily. To be sure they gathered in the Assembly room; and there was Ben, and Delia, who looked very nice and bright in maize colour and brown.
"Oh, Hanny, you are as lovely as a picture," she whispered enthusiastically. "But you are a little mite; there is no denying it. I was so afraid you couldn't come, that something would happen at the last moment. Miss Cynthia is capital."
Hanny coloured and almost sighed. She might as well give up hoping to be tall, and accept the fact.
They went into the banquet-room, where there were two long tables. They passed around to where a circle of men stood, some of them very fine looking indeed. The advancing group were presented to the great novelist, and in future years Hanny was to treasure the cordial smile and pressure of the hand. But he was to come again when the world had learned to pay him a finer and more discriminating admiration.
His end of the table was literary. The Jasper party were opposite, at the other one. What brightness and wit spiced the party, they could gather from the genial laughter. There were toasts and responses that scintillated with gaiety and touched the border of pathos.
It was long, and of course the younger people who came for the ball were not compelled to stay. The novelist was to leave at the close of the dinner. And presently most of the company found their way to the dancing room, where the band was discoursing enchanting music, and where every one enjoyed the promenade.
But when the quadrille sets were formed and in motion, Hanny was enraptured. Ben and Delia were among them. Delia certainly had a frivolous side to her nature for a genius. She was very fond of fun and pleasure and dancing, and had no lack of partners all the evening.
Some there were who danced like a fairy dream; others who made blunders and gave the wrong hand, and betrayed various awkwardnesses. Doctor Joe found several lady friends, and danced two or three times, then proposed that Hanny should try, which he was sure "would inspire Daisy into making the attempt," he said with a persuasive smile.
Hanny was very much afraid out on the large space. But Delia was in the same set, and her bright merry eyes were full of encouragement. It was not alarming. Indeed, in five minutes, the music had put a "spirit in her feet," and she felt quite at home.
Then a friend of Ben's came to ask her; and Doctor Joe sat down to persuade Daisy. While abroad, she had taken what we should now term a series of physical culture lessons to strengthen and develop her limbs, and to learn how to overcome her misfortune in every possible manner. Indeed, it was hardly noticeable now, and she had outgrown the sensitiveness of her childhood.
"Oh, mamma, do you think I could?"
"Of course she can," declared Doctor Joe. "I can't have you playing wall flower altogether at your first ball. And if you drop down in surprise, or faint away, I will carry you to the dressing-room at once."
He was so tender and full of nonsense, yet so much in earnest, that she rose reluctantly. But like Hanny, with the eager joy of youth, she soon forgot everything except the pure pleasure, and the delight of gratifying dear Doctor Joe, who was so strong and gentle that she could not even feel a bit nervous.
As for Hanny, she was really enchanted. The room full of people, smiling and happy, the changing figures, the light airy dresses, the shimmer of silks, the cloudlets of lace, the soft flying curls, for so many people wore ringlets still, the happy smiling faces, and the throb of the music was intoxicating. It was a strange, delightful world that she had gone into with her first long gown and her hair done up.
She came back, flushed and excited, her pretty eyes shining, her red lips all in a quiver.
"Now you must sit down and rest," said Mrs. Jasper. "And if you are very obedient, you may get up in that Spanish dance. I think that quite delightful and bewildering."
A lady sat on the other side of Mrs. Jasper, and resumed the incident she was describing. Mr. Jasper came up with a young man.
"Here is an old friend!" he exclaimed. "Where is Daisy?"
"Somewhere with the Doctor. Oh, what a surprise!" and she took the young man's hand.
"I wasn't sure I could get here; and it would have been very ungrateful to Mr. Jasper, when he sent me a ticket. I wanted to see Miss Daisy again. But I have just come on a flying business tour, and must start to-morrow for Philadelphia. Still, I may have a little leisure when I return. What a gay scene."
Hanny sat fanning herself, and feeling that her cheeks were scarlet. If it only wouldn't culminate in her nose! Then Mr. Jasper turned and introduced his young friend. Hanny moved a little, so he could sit between her and Mrs. Jasper,--a very attractive young man, a Mr. Andersen.
"Miss Underhill," he repeated, as Mr. Jasper turned away, "I've been speculating on a Miss Underhill for five minutes. I wonder if you will consider it impertinent; but perhaps you never speculate upon people, and then it might be reprehensible. Just as I entered the room, there was a merry group talking, and a sort of 'nut brown mayde,' all in brown and yellow with bright hair and laughing eyes said, 'Miss Nan Underhill.' Of course I was too well bred, and in too great a hurry to listen to any more, or I might have found out about her. I had just an instant interior gleam of what she must be like with that English name. And I wonder if the fates have directed my steps to her?"
Mr. Andersen was not the tall, stern, gloomy hero of romance; he was medium in height and figure, with a frank, eager sort of face, dark hair, and eyes she thought black then, but afterwards came to know that they were of the deep blue of a midnight sky in winter. He had such a smiling mouth, and his voice had a curious, lingering cadence that suggests that one may have heard it in a previous state.
Hanny caught the spirit of the half badinage, and the laughing light in his face.
"I think I ought to know the ideal before I confess identity," she replied.
"Can't I change the ideal? Or repent my vague, wild fancy?"
"Oh, was it wild? Then I must insist upon it. Miss Nan Underhill, an English girl; of course she was tall, this vision of your imagination?"
Hanny was quite sure her face grew redder. And this ideal girl was beautiful. Oh, dear!
"Yes, tall; a daughter of the gods, or the old Norse Vikings before they were Anglicised, with fair hair. And you have the fair hair."
"But I am not tall! I am sorry to have you disappointed."
"I am not disappointed. What does a vagrant fancy amount to? I consider myself fortunate in meeting Miss Underhill. Why, suppose I had gone rambling about and missed you altogether? Have you known the Jaspers long?"
"Oh, years and years. Before they went abroad."
"What a beautiful girl Daisy is! I am glad she is here enjoying herself. Oh, isn't it the regulation thing to speak of the hero of the feast? Of course when you heard he was coming to lecture you began to read his novels--if you had not before."
"I had not read them before. There are a great many books I have not read. But I tried at 'Vanity Fair;' and I am afraid I don't like it."
"I do not believe you will now. I can't imagine real young people liking them. But when one has grown older and had sorrow and suffering and experience, there are so many touches that go to one's heart. And 'Vanity Fair' is a novel without a hero. Still I always feel sorry for poor Major Dobbins. I wonder if Amelia would have liked him better if his name had been something else? Could you fall in love with such a name?"
They both laughed. She raised her eyes. How exquisitely fair and sweet and dainty she was! The soft hair had shining lights; and her eyes had a twilight look that suggested a pellucid lake, with evening shades blowing over it.
"A little more of something would have made him a hero, and spoiled the book."
"But I don't like Amelia, nor Becky; and the Crawleys are horrid. And Thackeray seems holding up everybody and laughing at them. I like to believe in people."
"I am glad there is a time when we can believe in them: it is the radiant time of youth. What did that little smile hide, and half betray? Confess!"
"Are you so very old?"
The charming gravity was irresistible.
"Seven and twenty, and I am beginning to worship Thackeray. At seven and thirty, he will be one of my passions, I know. Now and then I come to a sentence that goes to my heart. No, do not read him yet awhile, unless it is some of the little things. There is 'Dr. Birch and his Young Friends;' and if you want to be amused you must read his continuation of 'Ivanhoe.' But then you will have neither heroines nor heroes left. And if you and Miss Daisy want to laugh beyond measure, get the 'Rose and the Ring,' that he wrote for his two little girls."
"Oh," said Hanny, "are they at home, in England?"
"Yes, with an aunt."
"Haven't they any mother?"
"They have no mother," he said gravely.
Years later, the novelist was to be one of the little girl's heroes, when she knew all the bravery of his life, and why his little girls were without a mother.
Joe and Daisy returned, and there was a pleasant rencontre; then Delia and Ben came up, and they had a merry chat and a promenade.
"I wonder," as the musicians began tuning again, "if you are engaged for all the dances. Could I be allowed one?"
He took up her card.
"I have been dancing so much already; but Mrs. Jasper said I might try the Spanish dance."
"Oh, then try it with me! I am not too old to dance, if I have come to adoring Thackeray. And I am to go away soon."
"To go away--where?" And she glanced up with an interest that gave him a quick sense of pleasure.
"To Hamburg first; then to find some relations."
"In Germany? But you are not a German?" in surprise.
"I ought to be a Dane, if one's birth counts for anything; and if one's ancestors count, then an old Dutch Knickerbocker," he returned, with a soft, amused laugh. "But I believe I cannot boast of any English descent, such as the son of a hundred earls. That doesn't sound as poetic as the daughter of a hundred earls."
"Who was not one to be desired," interposed the young girl.
"Ah, you read Tennyson then? It is odd, but a good many of us begin on poetry. I like it very much myself."
A touch of thought settled between Hanny's brows.
"Are you wondering about my mixed lineage? Part of it came from the old Dutch governor, Jacob Leisler. My grandfather went to Germany, and ran away with a lady of high degree, and brought her back to America, where my father was born, and lived all his young life, until his marriage. Then business took him abroad, and I was born; and my mother died at Copenhagen. My father is connected with the importing house of Strang, Zahner, & Co., of which Mr. Jasper is a member. He is married again, to a very sweet, amiable German woman. Oh, here we are to take our places!"
Hanny hesitated an instant. She longed to have Mrs. Jasper's approbation.
"We have been looking for you," said Ben. "Let us begin in the one set. Here is Daisy and Joe."
Then it would be all right. She glanced up and smiled with cordial assent.
The old-fashioned Spanish dance was a great favourite at that time, when germans were unknown. Its graceful turns and windings, its stately balances, until the dancers seemed all one long elegant chain, that moved to the perfect time of the music, was indeed fascinating. People danced then. Youth never dreamed of being bored, and walking languidly. Every movement was delicate and refined.
Was she really in some enchanted country? When Mr. Andersen was compelled to leave her, he glanced over or past his partner with an expression so near a smile that Hanny's pulses quickened. When he came back, the light touch of his hand gave her a little thrill that was quite delicious. Now and then they had a bit of conversation.
Once he said, in his charming fashion, that was admiration rather than criticism:--
"Why, you are very petite!"
"Yes; I am not the tall, slim English girl."
"I am very glad. We dance so well together; I wish I were not going away so soon. And you can't guess--you will think it strange,--to American ideas it is; but when I go back I have to hunt up a descendant of this grandmother of high degree who has been making matrimonial overtures to my father on my behalf."
"Oh, that is like a story! And what will you do?"
"I will think about it, and answer you when you return to me."
He gave her to the next partner, with a graceful inclination of the head.
There were numberless evolutions before he could take her again. She glanced up out of sweet, questioning eyes.
"I've been considering," he resumed, as if they had not parted. "You see, it is this way. My father is very, very fond of me, though there are other children. Then I have my mother's fortune, which he has been very watchful of. He is a splendid, upright, honourable man. Now, if your father asked such a thing of you,--what I mean is, if he asked you to see some one and learn how well you could like her or him--"
She was off again. Oh, what a sweet little fairy she was! What poet wrote about twinkling feet? Hers certainly twinkled in their daintiness. He had not considered her prettiness at first; now it seemed as if she was exquisitely fair, with that soft pink in her cheeks.
"Yes. Do you not believe you would go to please him, and see? And you might not like her, and she might not like you. But sometimes people do take sudden fancies. What do you think, looking at it out of an American girl's eyes?"
"I should go for my father's sake."
There was such a delicate gravity in her clear eyes as she raised them a little.
"Thank you," he returned softly. "What an odd thing to talk of in the midst of our dancing! When you are older, you will find people making a confidante of you very often, you seem so serious and truthful."
They were coming down to the end of the winding chain; Mr. and Mrs. Jasper stood there. One more figure, and the cornet and horns and violins gave three long breaths of melody and stopped.
"My dear children," said Mrs. Jasper, as she stretched out her hand. "Daisy, you will be in bed all day to-morrow! Your mother will never trust me with you again, Hanny; I didn't think it would be so long."
"But it was so delightful, mamma." Daisy was in a tumult of pleasure.
"We must go at once. Mr. Jasper will be back by the time we have found our wraps. Doctor, I can't thank you for making such a patient martyr of yourself, only you are always so good. Hanny, have you had a nice time?"
"It has been splendid," with a long, long breath, and shining lights in her eyes.
Delia went to the dressing-room with them.
"I'm going to have two more dances," she said. "It is the first real ball I've been to in a long while. I'm so glad you came. Ben says he never imagined you were so pretty. Think of that, from one's own brother! And Daisy did not shine you down, either."
Hanny kissed her with a sort of rapture. She couldn't understand; she seemed to be walking on the azure clouds instead of solid earth.
Mr. Andersen went to the carriage with them, and said he should surely call when he returned from Philadelphia.
Daisy leaned her head down on her mother's shoulder. She was more tired than she would admit. Hanny's eyes were like stars, and her brain was still filled with wonderful melodies and light airy figures trooping to the ravishing sounds, the shimmering light and sparkle. Doctor Joe just carried her up the steps, and opened the door with his latch-key. But Mrs. Underhill had heard them, and she came downstairs, wrapped in a shawl.
"Oh, Joe, how could you keep her out so late! Do you know it's almost three o'clock?"
Then the mother folded her to her heart. It seemed as if she had been snatched from some great danger; and now that she had her safe and sound, she felt as if she should never let her go again.
"You're all excitement, Hanny; you tremble like a leaf. Such dissipations are bad for growing girls."
"Oh, mother, I think I'm done growing," Hanny laughed, with a soft ring of music in her voice. "I have wanted to be tall like Margaret; but now I do not mind a bit. I think I shall always be father's little girl. And the dancing was so delightful; but you can't think how queer and long the supper was. And Mr. Thackeray really shook hands with me. He has two little girls, and they haven't any mother. If you could have seen Daisy! And she dances beautifully."
"Hanny, your tongue runs like a mill-race. Do keep still, child. Cynthia has you pinned in every fashion. I hope your dress looked nice enough for a little girl. There, I'll take care of them all. You will never want to get up in the morning."
When she had hung the dress out of sight, she felt as if she had her little girl once more. And the little girl fell asleep to the sound of the most delicious music ever floating through one's brain.
