"Miss Drayton," replied Marion, with the slightest possible change of manner,--"Rachel Drayton."
"Rachel Drayton. That"s rather an uncommon name. I don"t think I ever heard of a real bona fide Rachel before; handsome, isn"t she?"
"No, not exactly; perhaps she would be if she were well."
"She"s uncommon-looking," continued Mr. Berkley, as he helped himself to another slice of toast; "didn"t you notice her, Margaret?--tall, with jet-black hair and eyes. Rachel is just the name for her."
"I noticed her; in fact, Florence introduced her, but I was attracted towards her first by the unusually sad expression of her face. I never saw it so noticeable in one so young; and I suppose she is young, though she looks much older than you or Florence."
"She is only seventeen," replied Marion, busily engaged in giving Charley sips of her coffee.
"Oh, well," said Mr. Berkley in his hearty way, "we"ll soon get rid of that sad look; we"ll have her in with Flo, and I guess after she"s seen Warren once or twice she"ll learn how to laugh. What do you think, Marion?"
"It won"t be any use for you to invite her, papa. She wouldn"t come; she"s in deep mourning,--she lost her father just before she came to school."
"Poor child!" said Mrs. Berkley, whose heart always warmed towards any one in trouble; "poor child! Where does her mother live?"
"She has no mother either; she died when Rachel was a baby. In fact, she has no relations at all except an uncle, who has been abroad for ten years, and will not be at home until school closes next spring."
"Well, I do pity the poor thing!" said Mr. Berkley, who, although death had never robbed him of his own dear ones, felt the deepest sympathy for all those who had been so stricken. "I think it is one of the saddest cases I ever knew. I suppose Flo--bless her heart!--could sympathize with her even more than the rest of you, having lost her mother too."
"She and Rachel are great friends," replied Marion, wishing the subject would ever be changed.
"Is she well provided for?" asked Mr. Berkley.
"She is immensely wealthy," replied Marion; "will have two or three millions in her own right, when she is twenty-one."
"Whew!" exclaimed Mr. Berkley; "pretty well provided for, I should think. Well, I"m glad of it; she has had trouble enough already, without having to worry about money matters. Marion, have another chop?"
"No, I thank you, papa, I"ve had quite enough," replied Marion, rousing herself, and speaking with her usual energy, the absence of which had not escaped her mother"s ear. "How soon will Fred be home? I"m crazy to see him."
"In about an hour, I expect," replied Mrs. Berkley; "he is quite as anxious to see you as you are to see him."
"I tell you what, Mab," said Mr. Berkley, "Fred is a pretty important member of society since he got into college; you ought to hear him talk about "the men of our cla.s.s;" it makes me feel old."
"Oh! he"ll get over that," laughed Marion. "I suppose he feels particularly grand, because he"s younger than most of his cla.s.s."
"Yes, I dare say," said Mrs. Berkley, with a little motherly anxiety in her voice. "I wish he had waited a year; it would have been much better for him."
"Oh, nonsense!" answered Mr. Berkley, as he pushed his chair back from the table; "the sooner he sows his "wild oats" the better; besides, he"s sound enough, never fear. But I forgot, Marion; I"m getting to be almost too old a beau for you; so I told Fred to bring some one home from college to pa.s.s the vacation. He has invited a Mr. Thornton; he took a great fancy to Fred, though _he is_ a junior; so you can"t turn up your nose at him."
"I don"t want to turn up my nose at him; but junior or not, he will not be my escort. I"ll hand him over to mamma; but wherever I go, you"ll have to take me, do you understand?"
"Oh, yes, I understand perfectly. That all sounds very pretty, no doubt; but you wait till you see Arthur Thornton. Such _heavenly_ eyes!"
exclaimed Mr. Berkley, disengaging himself from Marion, and clasping his hands in the most enthusiastic manner, "and such a _magnificent_ figure!
and such a _stunning_ mustache, and such--such a--such a surprising appet.i.te!"
"Now, papa," said Marion, laughing at her father"s romantic gestures, and the very unromantic conclusion of his sentence, "you know I never rave so over young men; it"s so silly!"
"Now, mamma, just hear her," said Mr. Berkley, turning to his wife; "she never raves over young men; oh, no! Wasn"t little Bob Jones the _loveliest_ dancer she ever saw? and didn"t Walter Hargate sing the "rainy day" so as to make one weep _oceans_ of tears? and wasn"t Jack Richards" profile "enough to make one _wild_"? and wasn"t--"
"Stop! stop!" cried Marion, jumping up and putting her hand over her father"s mouth; "you shan"t say another word; it isn"t fair. That was nearly two years ago, when I was young and foolish; now I am almost eighteen, and, as Fred says, "I"m going to come the heavy dignity.""
"All right," replied her father, as he gave her a kiss; "only don"t come it over me, that"s all. Here they are now! Marion! Marion!" he cried, as she broke from him, and made a rush for the front door, "that"s very undignified, very undignified indeed; you should receive them in the parlor."
But Marion paid no heed to his admonition, and in a moment more had her arms round Fred"s neck, utterly oblivious to the fact that a young six-footer stood behind him.
"Come in, Marion; what do you mean by keeping Mr. Thornton standing out there in the cold?" said Mr. Berkley, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "I"m surprised at you! Come in, Mr. Thornton; glad to see you; my daughter, _Miss_ Berkley."
Mr. Thornton raised his hat, and bent that "magnificent figure" in the most profound salutation, while Marion responded with a bow, which, as her father whispered to her, "was dignity itself."
After the usual bustle accompanying an arrival was over, and some little time had been spent in chatting, Mr. Berkley said:--
"Come, Fred, you and Mr. Thornton must be hungry; go out and get some breakfast; we have had ours, but Marion will do the honors."
"We breakfasted before we left," answered Fred. "I knew we should be late; but we"ll do double duty at dinner."
"I"m sorry for that," whispered Mr. Berkley to Marion, as he handed her his meerschaum to fill, "for I wanted to prove the last part of my description. I know you"ve accepted the first part already as perfect."
"Hush, papa! don"t be silly," answered Marion, as she dipped her fingers into the tobacco-box.
"Miss Berkley, can you fill a pipe?" asked Mr. Thornton.
"Why, of course she can," said her father; "she"s filled mine ever since she was so high. I should have given up smoking long ago if it hadn"t been for her."
"That"s all nonsense, papa; you"ll never stop smoking till the day of your death; so I suppose I shall always fill your pipe."
"Miss Berkley," said Mr. Thornton, with a graceful little bow, "I wish while I am here I might be allowed the pleasure of having _my_ pipe filled by those fair fingers."
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Thornton," said Marion, with the least possible toss of her head; "but I never fill any one"s but papa"s."
Mr. Thornton bowed, flushing slightly as he rose to follow Fred to his room, mentally resolving never to waste pretty speeches again on that girl; and Mr. Berkley observed as he left the room, "A perfect scorcher, Marion! If you keep that dignity up for the rest of his visit, there won"t be a piece of him left as big as a chicken"s wing."
The following morning was as bright and beautiful as ever a Christmas morning could be, and indoors the merry party at Mr. Berkley"s was quite in keeping with the weather; such strife as to who could wish "Merry Christmas" first, such an exhibition of presents, and such general jollification, could only be found where every one was in the best of spirits, and all determined to enjoy themselves to the utmost.
The Christmas gifts had been arranged by Mr. and Mrs. Berkley the previous night in the parlor, where the door was kept fastened until directly after breakfast, when Mr. Berkley unlocked it, and let in the whole family. Marion was in a perfect state of excitement over her presents, quite forgetting the talked-of dignity in her admiration of them; and the charming way in which she thanked Mr. Thornton for a bouquet, bearing his card, quite did away with the effect of her hauteur of the previous day. From her father and mother she received what she had long expressed a wish for,--"Goethe"s Female Characters ill.u.s.trated by Kaulbach," a book which her intense love for art enabled her to fully appreciate; from Fred a beautiful amethyst ring; a pretty necktie from Charley, which, as he said, "he choosed hisself;" a bust of Clytie from her Uncle George; besides gloves, bows, embroidered handkerchiefs, etc., too numerous to mention, from various aunts and cousins.
"But, Marion, there is something else," said her mother; "lift up that handkerchief and see what is under it."
"Oh, is that for me? I didn"t understand," said Marion, as she took up the handkerchief that hid something from view. "O mamma, how perfect!
Isn"t it lovely? She couldn"t have given me anything I would have liked half so well;" and the tears started to her eyes, for the present was from Florence, and Marion had thought she had nothing from her, and was cut to the quick; for they had always exchanged Christmas gifts ever since they were children. This one was an exquisitely colored photograph of Florence herself, beautifully framed in blue velvet and gilt.
"She had it taken just before she went back to school," said Mrs.
Berkley, "and I colored it for her; isn"t the frame lovely? She had it made to order. I never saw one like it."
"It is lovely; just exactly like her;" and Marion looked fondly at the eyes that smiled into hers with such a sweet, affectionate expression, and as she did so thoughts of the past and present flitted quickly through her mind, and further speech just then was quite impossible.
But it is useless to attempt a description of each of those many merry days; they all pa.s.sed only too quickly. Mr. Thornton proved himself to be a very valuable addition to the home circle, as well as a most hearty partic.i.p.ator in all their schemes for going about here, there, and everywhere. During the holidays Mr. and Mrs. Berkley received several invitations to large parties, in which "Miss Berkley" was included; but all were declined, for Mrs. Berkley had no idea of having Marion go into society for more than a year yet. Her father had said, in his jolly, easy way, "Oh, let her go, it won"t hurt her; why, you and I did most of our courting before you were as old as she is."