Read Ebook: Richard Vandermarck: A Novel by Harris Miriam Coles

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Ebook has 1421 lines and 72580 words, and 29 pages

"Is Wall-street so very much more disagreeable than other places? I think my uncle regrets every moment that he spends away from it."

"Ah, yes. Mr. Greer may; he has a good deal to make him like it; if I made as much money as he does every day there, I think it's possible I might like it too. But it is a different matter with a poor devil like me: if I get off without being cheated out of all I've got, it is as much as I can ask."

"Well, perhaps when he was your age, Uncle Leonard did not ask more than that."

"Not he; he began, long before he was as old as I am, to do what I can never learn to do, Miss d'Esir?e--make money with one hand and save it with the other. Now, I'm ashamed to say, a great deal of money comes into my pockets, but it never stays there long enough to give me the feeling that I'm a rich man. One gets into a way of living that's destruction to all chances of a fortune."

"But what's the good of a fortune if you don't enjoy it?" I said, thinking of the dreary house in Varick-street.

"O, very well indeed," I said with great simplicity. "You know he is such a favorite with my uncle, and he is a great deal at the house."

"Well he may be a favorite, for he is built exactly on his model; at seventy, if I am not hung for debt before I reach it, I shall look to see him just a second Mr. Leonard Greer."

I made a gesture of dissent. "I don't think he is in the least like Uncle Leonard, and I don't think he cares at all for money."

"O, Miss Pauline, don't you believe him if he says he doesn't. I'm his younger brother, whom he has lectured and been hard on for these twenty-seven years, and I know more about it than anybody else."

"Why, is Mr. Richard Vandermarck twenty-seven years old?" I said with much surprise.

"Twenty-nine his next birthday, and I am twenty-seven. Why, did he pass himself off for younger? That's an excellent thing against him."

"No; he did not pass himself off for anything in the matter of age. It was only my idea about him. I thought he was not more than twenty-five, perhaps even younger than that. But then I had nobody but Uncle Leonard to compare him with, and it isn't strange that I didn't get quite right."

I knew by intuition this was impertinence, and no doubt I looked annoyed, and Mr. Vandermarck hastened to obliterate the impression by a very rapid movement upon the scenery, the beauties of the river, and many things as novel.

The three hours of our sail passed away pleasantly. Mr. Vandermarck did not move from his seat; did not even read his paper, though I gave him an opportunity by turning over the leaves of my "Littel" on the occurrence of every pause.

I felt that I knew him quite well before the journey was over, and I liked him exceedingly, almost as well as Richard. He was rather handsomer than Richard, not so tall, but more vivacious and more amusing, much more so. I began to think Richard rather dull when I contrasted him with his brother.

When we reached the wharf, Mr. Vandermarck, after disposing of the baggage, gave his arm to me, and took me to an open wagon which was waiting for us. He put me in the seat beside him, and took the reins with a look of pleasure.

"These are Tom and Jerry, Miss Pauline," he said, "about the pleasantest members of the family; at least they contribute more to my pleasure than any other members of it. I squandered about half my income on them a year or two ago, and have not repented yet; though, indeed, repentance isn't in my way. I shall hope for the happiness of giving you many drives with them, if I am permitted."

"Nothing could make me happier, I am sure."

"Richard hasn't any horses, though he can afford it much better than I can. He does his driving, when he is here, with the carriage-horses that we keep for Sophie--a dull old pair of brutes. He disapproves very much of Tom and Jerry; but you see it would never do to have two such wise heads in one family."

"It would destroy the balance of power in the neighborhood."

"Decidedly; as it is, we are a first-class power, owing to Sophie's cleverness and Richard's prudence; my prodigality is just needed to keep us from overrunning the county and proclaiming an empire at the next town meeting. How do you like Sophie, Miss d'Estr?e? I know you haven't seen much of her--but what you have? Isn't she clever, and isn't she a pretty woman to be nearly thirty-five?"

I was feeling very grateful for my invitation, and so I said a great deal of my admiration for his sister.

"Everybody likes her," he said, complacently. "I don't know a more popular person anywhere. She is the life of the neighborhood; people come to her for everything, if they want to get a new door-mat for the school-house, or if they want a new man nominated for the legislature. I think she's awfully bored, sometimes, but she keeps it to herself. But though the summer is her rest, she always does enough to tire out anybody else. Now, for instance, she is going to have three young ladies with her for the next two months , whom she will have to be amusing all the time, and some friends of mine who will turn the house inside out. But Sophie never grumbles."

"Tell me about them all," I said, consuming with a fever of curiosity.

"I? oh no. I never met anybody," I said, half-bitterly, beginning to be afraid of the people whom I so soon should meet; and then I began to talk about the road, and to inquire how far we had yet to drive, and to ask to have a shawl about my shoulders. It was not yet seven o'clock, but the country air was fresh and cool, and the rapid driving made it cooler.

"We are almost there; and I hope, Miss d'Estr?e, that you won't feel as if you were going among strangers. You will not feel so long, at any rate. It is too bad Richard isn't here; you know him so much better than the rest of us. But before he comes back, I am sure you will feel as much at home as he. But here's the gate."

There was a drive of perhaps an eighth of a mile from the gate to the house: the trees and hedge were thick, so that one saw little of the house from the road. The grounds were well kept; there was a nice lawn, in front of the house, and some very fine old trees. The house was low and irregular, but quite picturesque. It fronted the road; the rear looked toward the river, about quarter of a mile distant, and of which the view was lovely.

There was a piazza in front, on which four ladies stood; one of them came forward, and came down the steps, and met me as I got out of the carriage. That, of course, was Mrs. Hollenbeck, She welcomed me very cordially, and led me up the steps of the piazza, where the young ladies stood. Terrible young ladies! I shook with fear of them. I felt as if I did not know anything, as if I did not look well, as if my clothes were hideous. I should not have been afraid of young or old men, nor of old women; but they were just my age, just my class, just my equals, or ought to have been, if I had had any other fate than Uncle Leonard and Varick-street. How they would criticize me! How soon they would find out I had never been anywhere before! I wished for Richard then with all my heart. Kilian had already deserted me, and was talking to Miss Leighton, who had come half-way down the steps to meet him, and who only gave me a glance and a very pretty smile and nod, when Mrs. Hollenbeck presented me to them. Miss Benson and Miss Palmer each gave me a hand, and looked me over horribly; and the tones of their voices, when they spoke to me, were so constrained and cold, and so different from the tones in which they addressed each other. I hated them.

After a few moments of wretchedness, Sophie proposed to take me to my room. We went up the stairs, which were steep and old-fashioned, with a landing-place almost like a little room. My room was in a wing of the house, over the dining-room, and the windows looked out on the river. It was not large, but was very pretty. The windows were curtained, and the bed was dainty, and the little mantel was draped, and the ornaments and pictures were quaint and delightful to my taste.

Sophie laid the shawls she had been carrying up for me upon the bed, and said she hoped I would find everything I needed, and would try to feel entirely at home, and not hesitate to ask for anything that would make me comfortable.

Nothing could be kinder, but my affection and gratitude were fast dying out, and I was quite sure of one thing, namely, that I never should love Sophie if she spent her life in inviting me to pay her visits. She told me that tea would be ready in half an hour, and then left me. I sat down on the bed when she was gone, and wished myself back in Varick-street; and then cried, to think that I should be homesick for such a dreary home. But the appetites and affections common to humanity had not been left out of my heart, though I had been beggared all my life in regard to most of them. I could have loved a mother so--a sister--I could have had such happy feelings for a place that I could have felt was home. What matter, if I could not even remember the smile on my mother's lips; what matter, if no brother or sister had ever been born to me; if no house had ever been my rightful home? I was hungry for them all the same. And these first glimpses of the happy lives of others seemed to disaffect me more than ever with my own.

MY COMPANIONS.

"Vous ?tes belle: ainsi donc la moiti? Du genre humain sera votre ennemie."

"Oh, I think the cause Of much was, they forgot no crowd Makes up for parents in their shroud."

The servant came to call me down to tea while I was still sitting with my face in my hands upon the bed. I started up, lit the candles on the dressing-table, arranged my hair, washed the tears off my face, and hurried down the stairs. They were waiting for me in the parlor, and no doubt were quite impatient, as they had already waited for the arrival of the evening train, and it was nearly eight o'clock. The evening train had brought Mr. Eugene Whitney, of whom I can only say, that he was a very insignificant young man indeed. We all moved into the dining-room; the others took the seats they were accustomed to. Mr. Whitney and I, being the only new-comers, were advised which seats belonged to us by a trim young maid-servant, and I, for one, was very glad to get into mine. Mr. Whitney was my neighbor on one hand, the youngest of the Hollenbeck boys on the other. These were our seats:

Kilian,

Miss Leighton, Miss Henrietta Palmer,

Miss Benson, Mr. Eugene Whitney,

Tutor, Myself,

Boy, Boy,

Mrs. Hollenbeck.

The seat opposite me was not filled when we sat down.

"Where is Mr. Langenau, Charley?" said his mother.

"I'm sure I don't know, mamma," said Charley, applying himself to marmalade.

"Charley doesn't see much of his tutor out of hours, I think," said Miss Benson.

"A good deal too much of him in 'em," murmured Charley, between a spoonful of marmalade and a drink of milk.

"Benny's the boy that loves his book," said Kilian; "he's the joy of his tutor's heart, I know," at which there was a general laugh, and Benny, the younger, looked up with a merry smile.

The Hollenbeck boys were not fond of study. They were healthy and pretty; quite the reverse of intellectual; very fair and rosy, without much resemblance to their mother or her brothers. It was evident the acquisition of knowledge was far from being the principal pursuit of their lives, and the tutor was looked upon as the natural enemy of Charley, at the least.

"I don't see what you ever got him for, mamma," said Charley. "I'd study just as much without him."

"And that wouldn't be pledging yourself to very much, would it, Charley dear?"

"Wish he was back in Germany with his ugly books," cried Charley.

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