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274
THE SOUTHERN WORLD. JUNE 1, 1884.
Written eipecUlly for the Southern World.]
THE STOUT OF HOSE BARREL.
BY JOHN EBTEN COOKE.
[This itorjr began In No. 11 of Volume 8.
Back numbers can be had at 5 cents per copy.
All rights reserved.]
VIII.
MIS8 BOSE PAINTS A FIRE SCREEN.
In spite of the determination which
Hr. Ludwell had announced, to return
to the West, he still lingered at the
Meadows.
His manner toward the two ladies was
more modest and deferential than ever,
and at. timeB a sad smile and a fixed
look directed toward Rose seemed to
show that he felt to the fullest extent
how great a prize he was depriving him
self of—or at least abandoning the chance
of winning—by his own act.
Nothing more hnd been said on the
question of the inheritance; neither Mr.
Ludwell nor Mrs. Darrel returned to. it.
With a person of the lady’s character—
exemplary from all points of view except
the intellectual, where, it muBt be con
fessed, she was somewhat weak—silence
is the instinctive defense against what
ever puzzles or disturbs.
In other words, Mrs. Darrel finding
the whole subject of the hull very em
barrassing, quietly dropped it, trusting
apparently to the chapter of accidents
to decide everything.
Mr. Ludwell himself did not seem to
have the least intention o f renewing the
discussion. He must have realized in
deed that it would be very awkward to
do so, as he had definitely stated his
viewB, and they had been perfectly well
understood.
And yet he lingered at the Meadows,
making no approach whatever to any
thing resembling courtship in the direc
tion of Miss Rose Darrel, but now and
then gazing at her with the sad smile
which has been referred to.
One morning he came in from a ride
and found her in the drawing-room
painting some fire screens.
The family might be said to live in
this apartment, which was large and
bright, owing to its tall windows, and
any occupation in which the ladies were
engaged, after the duties of housekeep
ing had been attended to, was very apt
to be carried on there.
Rose wore a neat morning dress and
her brown hair was simply braided at
the neck and worn in bangs in front,
under which were a pair of large blue
eyes, for the moment hidden, as they
were fixed on a table containing her
paint box.. I
She presented a very workwomanlike
appearance as the apron which she wore
over her dress was here and there spot
ted Vith paint, and her fingers had re
ceived their share in spite of all her
efforts.
Mr. Ludwell came in and leaning upon
the back of her chair said, looking at
the screen before her:
“ I did not know you were so fine an
artist. That landscape would do honor
to aprofessional painter.”
“ I am sure you say that merely from
politeness,” said Rose. “ It is a cop
of that chromo on the floor—but it wi
answer its purpose.”
“Its purpose?”
“It is for sale” said Rose, “and as
it is already ordered I shall be sure to
get iny price.”
“ Your price?”
“Twenty-five dollars.” said Rose,
carefully tracing out in faint blue a dis
tant range of mountains.
“ Do I understand that you dispose of
your work—of these screens?”
“Certainly—why should I not?”
“I cannot say I can give any reason,
but it never occurred to me that Mise
Darrel,of the Meadows, would be obliged
to labor to earn money.”
“ Well,” said Rose in a matter of fact
tone, as • she inclined her head to one
side and contemplated the range of
mountains on the screen, “ I don’t know
that I am exactly obiiged. But you know
people who live in the country nave very
little money, and it is just as well to use
any talent one has to add to one’s re
sources. Don’t you think so?”
“ You are right, and may I ask who
buys your screens?”
“Oh, anybody. I engage them—that
is they are engaged. I have made two
hundred dollars this year.”
“Indeed,” said Mr. Ludwell. “If
I knew you a little better I would ask
you what you do with your,money.”
“ I spend some and give away some.
There are always poor and deserving
people who need money.”
“ I see,” said Mr. Ludwell admiringly,
“ yon spend one dollar on Voureelf and
give away ten—I am sure of it.”
“ I have not said so. If it were true
I should certainly not trumpet it abroad.
Mr. Ludwell remained for some mo
ments looking at the screen, and then
fixed his eyes upon the young lady.
“If you will pardon me,” be said,
“you will make someone a model wife.”
He spoke rather sadly and a slight
sigh accompanied the words.
“ I hope you will not find, fault with
me for intimating that you will probably
marry.”
“ That would be very unreasonable in-
deed,” said Rose, “as almost all girls
marry sooner or later, and there is cer
tainly nothing improper in doing so—
but I have no intention of marrying.”
“ It is a very serious step,” said Mr.
Ludwell, “ and you have plenty of time
to reflect upon it.”
“It is a very serious step indeed,”
said Rose.
She did not fancy the turn which the
conversation had taken, and had her
choice between silence or common
place.
“ I have sometimes amused myself,”
said Mr. Ludwell, with the same sad
smile, “ by imagining that I was one of
J our own sex, and asking myself what
should look for in a husband.”
“Indeed!”
“A rather idle occupation you will
say, and perhaps the conclusions I have
come to would not meet with your ap
proval.”
“ Did you come to any conclusions?”
“To one at least, and I must say I
made up my mind thoroughly to it.”
Rose said nothing, and Mr. Ludwell
added:
“Shall I say what my conclusion was ?”
“ I shall be glad to know.” .
“ I think a young lady ought not to
disregard money.”
Rose laughed Blightly.
“ It is rather unsentimental,” she said.
I think 1 have heard that another
thing was more important.”
" You mean love?”
“Well—yes,” said Rose.
“Love is a very desirable thing—in
fact I may say it is the sunshine of life.
But that is not the only thing.”
*‘ I should think it was the main thing.’’
“ Perhaps—but it ought not to be tried
too severely, and I think the most intel
ligent persons of your sex are not blind
ed by the impulse of the moment, but
look to the future.”
“The future?”
“1 will explain my meaning. Two
young persons become attached to each
other—or to express my meaning better
—fall in love, and lose sight of all the
rest. They are not intelligent in doing
thoughtful women aB well as men,
as I said, look beyond the moment. To
marry and livo in comfort a certain an
nual income is necessary. One or the
other of tho parties must have the in
come or—you know the proverb: ‘When
poverty comes in at the door, love flies
out at the window.’ ”
“ It is a very harsh proverb.”
“ Marty things that are true are harsh.
“ So money is absolutely necessary?”
“ I think it is,” said Mr. Ludwell.
“ And women should look to money ?”
* * I think it is the more prudent course. ’ ’
“ Ynnr views are unite alinnlrirw. »>
Mr. Ludwell shook his head.
“ Love cannot decline to see him, and
should not risk the visit. And then we
have quietly assumed that love will al
ways be at home—or in other words,
that the romantic passion of two young
persons lasts. It often wears out with
the honeymoon, and they have not even
love to console them in their cabin, seat
ed at their bread and water.”
“ What a picture, sir!”
“ You have only to look and you will
see it every day. I am not finding fault
with love, but a passing fancy is not the
most desirable sort.”
“You have no doubt your beau ideal,
sir?”
“Yes—an affectionate attachment
which would wear and stand the strain
upon it.”
“ With a little money or a great deal,
to prevent the machine from grating?”
“You put it plainly, but that is my
idea.”
“Well, said Rose, “I can only say
that I think love is better than money—
and now I really feel puzzled.”
“Puzzled?”
I have been trying to decide for ten
minutes.”
“To decide?”
“ Whether to paint that horse and cart
in the foreground or not.”
Mr. L’idwell’.s brows contracted.
“ I have Pre-Raphaelite tendencies in
my art,” said Rose, laughing, “and 1
really should like to put in the cart.
But then think of the ideal—so much
f rander than the realistic! Decidedly.
will omit the cart—no! I’ll certainly
put it in. The public taste is for the re
alistic, and you know my screen is for
sale! But is that mamma calling me?”
And Miss Rose hastened upstairs.
return to the West, and when Mrs t>
declared that he Cm'
SSSy “ d looke '> extreme!
Your views are quite shocking,
said Rose with a slight laugh. “_
should suppose, sir—merely for the sake
of argument, though I do not mean to
argue—that to have energy and industry
would be sufficient recommendations."
“ In the gentleman?”
“Yes.”
“ It is a great deal, but it is not an en
tirely reliable resource. He may lose
his health and become incapable of
work, or may die—that happens every
day. Then what is the end of the ro
mance? A poor widow, with a family
of young children perhaps, taking in
sewing to provide bread for them.”
“ You are a terrible disillusionizer—if
that is English, sirl” exclaimed Rose
“ but I think you forget one thing.”
“ What is that?”
“ Your money also may take wings to
itself.”
“ It will not if the person who man
ages it is prudent.”
“ Well,” said Rose, “it seems there
is an if in both, and as everything is un
certain one had better follow one’s fan
cy '
“ It is the decision of youth and con
fidence,” said Mr. Ludwell, with a slight
alteration in his voice.
“It is better I think,” said Rose,
“and I am not convinced that women
should thiuk of money in marrying. I
am sure gentlemen should not.”
“I agree with you,” said Mr. Lud
well hastily.
“It would be strange indeed if they
did. Surely a man may follow his fancy
whether we poor weaker vessels can or
not. If I were a man I would marry for
love, sir, and work hard to make my
home happy and comfortable. As‘love
flies out of the window when poverty
comes in at the door,’ I would meet pov
erty at the door and tell him that love
was engaged and declined to see him 1”
IX.
MR. LUDWELL AT LAST SECURES A PRI
VATE INTERVIEW.
Two weeks passed and Mr. Ludwell
had not again mentioned the subject of
his departure.
His demeanor had somewhat changed,
and possibly a change had also taken
place in his feelings and intentions.
A certain sentimental sadness was ob
servable in the expression of his coun
tenance when he looked at Rose, and
more than once when she chanced to
turn her head and found him gazing at
her, he had looked away uttering a deep
sigh.
Now when a young gentleman in ex
cellent health gazes fixedly at a young
lady and sighs deeply, there is some
thing the matter with him. As his com
plaint is not physical it must be mental,
and connected with the lady in question.
Had Mr. Ludwell become interested
in Miss Rose Darrel, and was that the
explanation of the delay in his depar
ture? He had certainly resolved to de
fer his return to the West for an indefi
nite time, and as in doing so he had no
other apparent motive, it was reasonable
to conclude that he had fallen in love.
In fact it seemed now to be perfectly
plain to all who observed the young
people that Mr. Ludwell had come to
the conclusion that his cousin was a very
charming, person. In consequence of
that conviction he had probably given
up his Quixotic intentions, and had re
solved to remain at the Meadows and
pay his address to the young lady, who
might in time make up her mind to car
ry out her uncle’s wishes.
If the worthy people who employed
their leisure in speculating upon the
question, had been at the Meadows, the
prospect before Mr. Ludwell would not
have appeared to them very encourag-
Rose avoided him persistently, and
seemed to be resolved that he should
not secure a private interview w ith her.
This is difficult in a country house
where it is almost impossible for mem
bers of a family to avoid each other.
But Rose had been equal to the emer
gency. When her mother was not in
the room, and Mr. Ludwell entered, she
found that she had business upstairs.
It in spite of aU her efforts they were
thrown together tele a tete 9 Rose was sure
to have overlooked some detail of her
housekeeping, to have forgotten some
thing which it was indispensable to at
tend to—and Mr. Ludwell had thus never
secured an opportunity for private con
vernation.
After that animated discussion of the
question whether the horse and cart
should be painted on the fire screen,
Miss Rose Darrel suddenly remembered
that she had not given orders for dinner
* ia i, to be excused for a moment
and left the room—and neither on that
day nor any other had Mr. Ludwell held
further private interview with her.
After awhile Mr. Ludwell obviously
grew nettled at this treatment. His face
lost its Bad expression and became de
cidedly Hl-humored when no one was
looking at him. He alluded to his early
At last fortune favored him
Rose had for some time given nn i
rides, probably for reasons best known
to herself; but one morning she recen t
a message informing her that one of S
Sunday school children was very ill and
longed to see her-the result of
was that she mounted her pony and 2
out for Wayside, the railway station
few miles east of Scarborough, near
which the poor family resided
Mr. Ludwell was in his chamber when
she mounted her pony, bu; luckily had
ordered his horse to be saddled and
brought to the door.
As Rose disappeared at full gallop on
her small animal, Mr. Ludwell hastily
came down stairs, the groom appeared
at the same moment with his ridim?
horse, and mounting quickly he set off
in pursuit.
Half a mile from the house he came
in sight of Hose who was going on at
full speed. But Mr. Ludwell rode a s u .
perb norse who was more than a match
for the pony, the result of which was
that after a brief chase he caught un
with Rose. 1
The young lady turned her head and
recognizing Mr. Ludwell expressed mild
pleasure, but she did not check the spued
of her little animal. Just in front, how
ever, was quite a steep hill, which made
it necessary to draw rein, and as the
pony was panting Rose allowed him to
proceed at a walk. •
“ I saw you going to ride and thought
you might not object if I joined you as
your escort,” said Mr. Ludwell.
“ I am very much obliged,” said Rose
quietly. “ I was only going to a house
near Wayside.”
Mr. Ludwell’s expression was rather
moody. He had slept badly on the night
before and was in rather a bad humor.
“I was not certain that my escort
would be agreeable or welcome. I have
not been able to see you for a moment-
in private.”
Miss Rose made no reply.
“ I am going away—in a few days—to
the West.”
Must you go away so soon?”
Why not? I have no encouragement
to remain at the M< a lows.”
Rose w r as silent as before.
“I wished to say something to you,
and have not been able to do so.”
Rose glanced at him but did not speak.
“ I wished to ask you a question.”
Rose colored a little but said quietly:
“ I will answer it if I can.”
“ Do you promise to answer it frank
ly? You can hardly doubt what the
question is.”
Rose made no reply.
“ Am I to go back to the West or re
main at the Meadows ? It is for you to
decide.”
The color in Rose’s cheeks slightly
deepened.
“ For me to decide?” she said.
“ For you. Yon are aware of my un
cle’s wishes as expressed in his will?”
“ Yes,” said Rose in a low tone.
“The paper was written without my
knowledge, and I knew nothing of it un
til his death.”
Rose did not answer.
“I had fully determined not to take
advantage of its provisions—that is. not
to force my attentions upon a young lady
who would attribute them to mercenary
motives.”
Mr. Ludwell looked at his companion
as if expecting some response, but as
Rose continued silent he added:
“lam still resolved to return to my
hard life if—shall I speak plainly?”
Yes.”
If you wish my visit here to termi
nate.”
“Your visit to terminate? No, in
deed,” said Rose, “that would be ab
surd as well as unkind.”
“ You have only to say a word, and 1
will go to-morrow—to-day.” , . .
“Why, what an idea!” exclaimed
Rose with a hasty laugh. “ You speak
as if vou were a mere stranger at tne
Meadows, and mamma and I the lajjms
of the manor. Are you not Uncle 11m*
ip’s nephew, and more entitled to re
main than we are?” , . . .
“ I have not looked at the snbject in
that light,” said Mr. Ludwell gloomily,
“and certainly shall not claim my rigid
to remain under my uncle’s will.
As he spoke he looked keenly at n; r *
It was a. very singular glance wlm a
Rose had caught on more than one
cation, and she could never describe
imp ession which it produced upon nt
—it was certainly not agreeable.
“Yourright?” she now said, abuts
unconsciously. .
“I have chos,en my words uni 1 ’ 1 '
nately,” he replied. “ I have no
If I am to have any—that is not foi !1
to decide.” i„
They had passed the hill and \> a} *