Before the week was ended Wynnette, as well as every other member of the family, knew “what was the matter.” Beever, the overseer of Greenbushes, came to consult Miss Force about the size and quality of the Persian rugs to be bought for the bedrooms of the farmhouse. And Mr. Force, in the presence of the whole family, said that henceforth all these consultations were to be suspended, as Miss Force had nothing further to do with the fitting up of the house. This caused much surprise, not only to the overseer, but to Wynnette and Elva, who became importunate in their inquiries, and in a manner compelled an explanation. Great was the indignation of those two young ladies on learning that their dear Le was to be “thrown over” for the sake of that “big, yellow dog,” Col. Anglesea. Wynnette and Elva went off to take secret counsel together. Wynnette declared that she meant to talk to Odalite about it, and also to Col. Anglesea, and to tell him, if need were, that he was no gentleman to come into the house to cut out— “No, I won’t say ‘cut out,’ either, for it is vulgar; I will say supplant—that is the word, and I will say something better than I first thought of, too! I will stand straight up before him and lift up my head and look him straight in the face, and I will say to him: “‘Col. Angus Anglesea, do you consider it conduct becoming an officer and a gentleman to come into this house to supplant a gallant young midshipman, who is serving his country, in the affections of his betrothed bride?’” “Oh! that will be splendid, Wynnette! What book did you get it out of?” innocently inquired Elva. “‘Book?’ No book! Every good thing I say you think comes out of a book; but it came out of my own head.” “What a splendid head you have, Wynnette!” “Yes. I guess people will find that out some of these days.” “Col. Anglesea will, won’t he? Now you say that to him, Wynnette! Just as you said it to me!” “That will fetch him! No, not ‘fetch him’—that is vulgar, too. Make an impression on him—that is what I mean, Elva.” “Yes; and I do just think that he would feel so ashamed of himself that he would turn right around and go home!” “I hope he may!” said Wynnette. “But if he should stay and marry Odalite, in spite of all, oh! what will poor Le do?” said compassionate little Elva. “Don’t know, I’m sure; but I know what I would do.” “What would you do, Wynnette?” “Have the satisfaction of a gentleman.” “And what is that?” “Call the rapscallion—no, I mean the diabolical villain—out and shoot him!” “Oh, Wynnette! Is that the satisfaction of a gentleman? To commit so great a sin?” “I’d do it, and face the music afterward. No—I mean I would take the consequences.” “Oh, no, you wouldn’t, Wynnette. And you must not, for all the world, put such a thing in poor Le’s head. He will be in trouble enough when he comes home, poor fellow, to find his sweetheart taken away from him without having—oh! I can’t speak the dreadful word, Wynnette. Poor Le! I tell you what I’ll do, Wynnette.” “What?” “Well, if the worst comes to the worst, and that colonel does take Odalite away from Le——” “Of course he will take Odalite away from Le. There is not a doubt of it. I shall have the pleasure of speaking my mind to the scalawag—I mean the wretch—but that is all I shall get; and he, he will feel ashamed of himself, perhaps, and that is all he will do. He is not a man to give up anything he wants; and he wants Odalite, and he means to have her—the brute!” “Well, if it comes to that, I tell you what I will do. I will marry poor dear Le myself—that is, when I am big enough. I always did like Le.” “You! You marry Le!” exclaimed Wynnette, opening her black eyes to their widest capacity. “Yes, when I am big enough—that is, I mean, unless you would take him. That would be ever so much better.” “I! Why, I wouldn’t have Le Force if every hair on his head was hung with a diamond as big as a hazel “Well, then, I would. So there now! Not only if he hadn’t a diamond to his name, but if he hadn’t a hair on his head. Poor Le! Poor dear Le! I do love him so dearly!” Wynnette had made no vain boast of “bearding the lion.” She watched her opportunity, and on the very first occasion on which she found him alone, sitting and reading in the drawing room, she—to use her own expression—“went for him.” She stood right up before the great soldier of India, and astonished him by addressing him in the very words she had rehearsed to Elva. Col. Anglesea threw himself back in his chair, and gave way to a peal of laughter. And when he recovered his breath, patted her on the head and said, mockingly: “You will forgive me, and thank Odalite, when you discover that we have got married on purpose to leave the gallant young middy to you, so that you shall not be an old maid.” “Thank you, sir. No one shall make a match for me. And since my peaceful mission to you has failed, I must leave you to be taken in hand by the gentleman you have robbed. He will call you to a strict account.” So saying, the small young lady threw up her head, and with great dignity marched out of the room. Her next effort in the absent lover’s cause was with Odalite herself. She found her eldest sister in their mother’s room, where a colored maidservant was engaged in unpacking a case just arrived from New York, and carefully extricating from its interior a rich white dress of velvet and swansdown, garnished with orange blossoms, and which was elaborately folded, with white tissue paper between every surface. “Be careful, Net. The veil must be somewhere there,” “I reckon it is in this square bandbox at the bottom,” suggested the woman. “Get it up very carefully, then.” Odalite, sitting back in an easy chair, seemed languid and indifferent to what was going on before her. “Is that the wedding dress?” inquired Wynnette, when the elegant structure was laid out at length upon the bed, the train hanging from the foot far down on the carpet. “Yes, that is the wedding dress. What do you think of it? Is it not beautiful?” inquired Mrs. Force, gazing admiringly on the bridal robes. “No! I think it is horrid! Perfectly horrid! I wouldn’t wear it if I were Odalite!” exclaimed Wynnette, turning her back on the finery, and going straight up to where her sister sat alone in her sadness. Disregarding the presence of others in the room, the impetuous little lady struck at once into the middle of her subject. “Odalite! It is not true—it cannot be true—that you are going to throw over your own dear true love—our own darling Le, whom we have known all our lives—just to marry that foreign beat, whom nobody knows anything about—I mean that British colonel, who is almost a stranger to us?” Wynnette was terrified at the result of her question. Odalite bent forward, threw her arms around her sister’s neck, and burst into a storm of sobs and tears. Mrs. Force wisely forbore to interfere. The colored woman looked on philosophically. She had seen hysterical brides before now. Wynnette clasped her sister close to her bosom, and cried for company. Presently Odalite raised her head, wiped the traces of tears from her face, and taking the hands of her sister, “Father and mother have consented that I may. Wynnette, if you love me, never, never speak to me of this again.” The little girl kissed her sister in perfect silence, saying to herself: “He has bewitched her—there’s where it is! He must have learned magic when he was in India, and he has bewitched her!” A joyful commotion in the hall below, a chorus of voices in glad surprise, and of dogs in eager welcoming barks, attracted the instant attention of all who were present in the room. “Oh, mother! what is it? What is it? Has—has——Oh, mother!” exclaimed Odalite, half rising, then sinking back and grasping the arm of her chair, pale as death. But before Mrs. Force could go to her daughter, the door was unceremoniously burst open by an excited negro girl, who, with her eyes starting, and her hair bristling, not with horror, but with delight, burst into the room, exclaiming: “Marse Le is come home! Marse Le is come home! ’Deed he is, missus! ’Deed he is, Miss Odalite!” And in another instant the young sailor rushed into the room with a joyous bound, almost whooping: “Here I am, auntie! Here I am, cousins! Ship reached New York yesterday morning, and here I am to-day! And old Joshua knew me! Indeed he did, after three years. Where is she? Where is she! Where is my pet?” he asked eagerly, after hastily kissing and hugging everybody who had put themselves in the way between him and the fainting girl, and looking eagerly all around for her, he caught sight of her reclining in her easy chair. He made an impetuous dash forward, caught her in Then he lifted the lifeless form, hurried with it across the room and laid it on the bed, crushing the orange blossoms on the beautiful bridal dress, in careless disregard of everything but his sweetheart, and crying out in dismay: “Oh, auntie! she has fainted! I took her too suddenly by surprise! And oh! my darling has fainted for joy!” |