Democratic Sentinel, Volume 1, Number 24, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 July 1877 — MISS DASHWOOD’S PLOT. [ARTICLE]

MISS DASHWOOD’S PLOT.

“ And ho, nir, this in vour decision ?” “ Honor, fut,her, forbids any other. ” “Do you moan kvsay, Hir, that you ni’.e engaged to the uirl?” “ Not exactly. L await her decision.” “Then yon have proposed?” “ I have, Hir.” “And you are resolved to marry Miss Cameron, and not Miss Dashwood?” “ If Miss Cameron will accept me.” “ Very well, sir—very well. This is your gratitude—this your Jilin 1 duty, you sell willed, ungrateful dog, in/return for the trouble I’ve had for you the efforts I've made to seenre. for you tho best mat 'li in the country. Here in a tine, liaudsijme, dasliing young woman ; rich, and belonging to one of the lirst families in tin eoiintry, whom you throw aside for tiie sake of a pah'-faced chit ol a elergyuvin’s daughter ” “ Father !” “ Don’t, father me, sir—don’t interrupt me don’t speak to me again! Get, out of my sight,! but remember the day on which you marry Dona Cameron you will cease to bo tt sou of mine. I’ll disown, I’ll disinherit you, air, and leave all I have to tlio new orphan asylum !’’ Sueli was the scene enacting in Squire Chester's parlor a scene frequently presented upon the stiige to sympathizing and delighted crowds an irate father, portly, red-faced and loud-voiced, with hands beneath coat-tails, a la Pickwick, and eyes glaring wrath fully through gold-rimmed spectacles upon a handsome and uudiitiful son, bent upon wedding the object, of liis soul's idolatry against the wishes of his father. Yet in I liis instance it, was no mere acting, but on the part of each serious and resolute earnest. To add to the dramatic ('fleet, at the moment in which the Squire’s last words were spoken, a fair, delicatelooking gill, who was about entering 'he room, catching the sound of the voice, paused an instant with her hand 011 the door-knob, as if hesitating whether to enter. And thus it happened licit she heard her own name mentioned several times in connection with the threat already mentioned. She turned then, and glided swiftly up the stairs to her own room. Docking tile door, she threw herself on a couch, and burying her face iu the pillows, remained a long time quite motionless. She did not weep, hut when she at length rose her face was pale, and her sweet blue eyes had a haggard look of Hollering painful to witness in one so young. Seating herself at the table, she drew toward her a writing desk, and wrote as follows: Utah Cousin I’hilii l : Since our interview or vcsUnluv L hue thought the matter over, and cmic pi (bo conclusion that it would bo bed that wo should no! marry. ]>o not blame me do not question ino. ever. 1 have reasons which i cannot explain, bill act as 1 think will be best for both of us. Puna W ncrc is Miss Cameron?” questioned I’hilip ot the servant who had handed him the note. “Gone over to Elmwood, sir, to her aunt, Mrs. Page, I heard her say she would stay there until her return to the city in a lew days,” An hour after Philip Chester was on his way to Ehmvood. The path was lonely, leading through a sequestered wood, and he was consequently surprised when, at an abrupt turn.ng, he cam.' Biiddoniy lace to face with a young lady —very tall, very handsome,’and attired in a rich riding Jut -it and floating plume. Philip lifted his hat respectful]v, and would have passed- oh, but the ’ lady paused full iu the path before him. “Excuse me—you are Mr. Philip Chester?” He bowed. “ And I am Josephine Dash wood.” In liis surprise he hardly knew what to say. “ L ilid not know—l was not aware of Miss Dashwood's .being iu the neighborhood.” 1 uare say not. You wore expecting perhaps, you and your honored lath, r, to behold me for the first time at tiie residence of my respected uncle and guardian, Simon Waldor, Esq. Hut you see 1 was too anxious to wait, so I concluded to run down for a day or two to Elmwood on the strength of Mrs. Page being an old friend of my mother. I wanted to see you, Mr. Chester.” “ You do me honor,” said'Philip, puzzled in wliat manner to treat this trank avowal. The young lady meanwhile played carelessly with her horse’s mane. b. 11111 °f this accidental meetshe resumed, “for I was just limiting how it would be possible to obtain a private interview.” Philip started. “I believe,” continued she, coolly, “ that there has been some arrangement made concerning us by these two old I mean by your much honored father and my highly respected uncle—a little

matrimonial scheme, if I am not mistaken. Very kind of them, doubtless, though it might have been kinder to have left ns to choose for ourselves and be happy in our own way.” A faint gleam of hope began to dawn on Philip. 'zMft “ I want to tell you a 'Secret, Mr. Chester. May I trnst you?” “ If you wifi do me the honor,” he replied. “ Ah, I see yon don’t like me, bat you will after a while. This, then, is my secret. I am in love—pray don’t be alarmed—not with you.” ' “ Thank you!” said he, almost involuntarily. “ With a very handsome, very clever, very worthy and deserving young man,” resumed Miss Dasliwood, with unmoved seriousness—“but poor. And you are iu love with one equally perfect, but suffering under the same stigma.” Hlle looked at him seriously, now,with her dark eves, and he met the gaze frankly? “ Now we understand each other,” she said, resuming her former tone and manner ; “ and now we can act as seems best to do under the circumstances. It won’t do to rebel openly against those two old fogies—l beg their pardons—those wise and venerable old gentlemen; but we can manage quietly to circumvent. them and have our own way—can’t we ?” “ Perhaps you have formed some plan to that effect!” said Philip, half amused and half interested. “You shall hoar,” she answered. “I am told tliat your dear, delighted father admires ‘ dashing Indies,’ Avants a dashing daughter-in-law, and mistress of his establishment. You will dine to-mor-row at Elmwood. Be sure not to disappoint Mrs. Page, who knows all about it, and takes a tender motherly interest in the affair. Wo will see whether the old gentleman is satisfied with liis chosen (laughter-in-law. But, whatever occurs, your role, remember, is to be perfectly charmed. Wifi you accept your part, Mr. Chester ?” Half laughing, and half wondering, he agreed. And so they roile on through the shadowy wood-path, Philip Chester liking his companion far better than he had previously thought possible of Miss Dasliwood. Beene second, act first, transport us to tiie drawing-room, where sat that grand old lady, Mrs. Page, in all the formal dignity of a country dinner dress, endeavoring to entertain some half dozen guests, of whom Squire Chester was one. Seated near an open window, lie was anxiously awaiting the appearance of Miss Dasliwood, with a vague hope as to the effect which might be thereby produced upon liis uudntiful son. That self-willed young man lounged near, conversing with a lady, while Lena Cameron, very pale and quiet, xvas bending over a bit of embroidery Avith fingers that trembled a little, and eyes that were rarely uplifted. Suddenly the sharp notes of tho bugle pierced the ears of the assembled company. - “That is Joe !” said Mrs. Page. “I am glad she is come, as now we can have dinner,” “Joe?” doubtfully inquired one of the lady guests. The Squire looked, from the window as invited, and beheld a figure in a man’s hatband coat, as lie thought, and a woman's skirt, dashing full speed up the avenue toward the house, with half a dozen dogs accompanying. Springing from the horse unassisted, she proceeded to loosen the saddle and throw it upon the ground, then walked several times around the horse, evidently examining into his condition, and discussing the same Avith the groom, Avho laid now appeared <m the grounds. If Squire Chester regarded this unexpected appearance of his son’s wife Avith any emotions of surprise of disappointment, ho at least did not express it. On the. contrary, he bowed and shook hands Avith the true old style of gallantry and courtesy, as that young lady presently entered the room, followed by two of the dogs aforesaid, to whom she Avhistlcd an encouragement to enter. “Oli, my dear, the dogs!” remoustrated (Mrs. Page, piteously ; avo are not accustomed to have them in the drawing-room. ” “Dear me! not have daAVgs in the drawingroom! Why L have mine Avith mo everywhere, and all over the house. Couldn’t do without them, I do declare. Like dfiwgs, sir?” site inquired, with a pretty drawl, of her future father-im law. “Very much —iu their proper place,” the old gentleman felt constrained to s-ay. To which Miss Dasliwood replied by a jilkt perceptible shrug of her graceful shoulders; and then they went in to dinner. “ No turkey, thank you,” she said, “I never take fowl—its only lit for invalids and Indues ; so insipid. I’ll take some roast beef—rare, if you please—though I prefer steak and onions,” And besprinkling the gory slice. Avith an abundance of cayenne sauce, Miss Dasliwood commenced her repast, while tho Squire turned aivay iiis eyes, meeting those of Lena Cameron, liis wife’s niece, avlh> had been regarding the proceedings of the “ dashing ” young lady with an expression akin to horror. Poor child, she Avasn’tiu tho secret. But the Squire thought, as he looked at her, how very delicate and refined and lady-like she appeared. Miss Dasliwood declined sherry, but accepted a little port instead, though expressing a preference for French brandy and water. “It was quite the ‘style’ now,” she asserted, “for ladies to prefer brandy.’’ Indeed, some ideally professed a partiality for Bourbon, though she herself considered it inferior to brandy iii point of taste and refreshment, and Squire Chester felt provoked at the assiduity with which his son refilled the young lady’s glass and listened admiringly to all she said. “Let us have some music,,” said Mrs. Page when they Avere again in the drawing-room. And the Squire, avlio was devoted to music, looked up and brightened. It was one of his anticipations, that of liis son’s Avife playing for him and soothing him iu liis after dinner hours with the melodies he loved. “Now, Loua, one of your favorite songs,” saiil her aunt, quietly ; and she sat down, and in a sweet, low and somewhat plaintive voice,- sang “Bonnie Doon ” and “ Annie Laurie.” “ That is the kind of music I like,” remarked Squire Chester to his hostess, nollo roar. “ Those charming old songs are worth all the modern fol-de-rols that Have, ever been written,” and he looked thoughtfully fit Miss Daslnvood and then at Miss Cameron. Likewise he harkened to the discourse that was going on between the former and liis son. “1 do so doat on horses,” observed the young lady. “ I couldn’t do under two of my own—a rider and a hunter. I delight iu hunting Avherever it is to be found, and generally on that account pass my summers on the mountaius, though doer are becoming very scarce, and Avoodcock as much so. I Avisli we had fox hunting here as in England. I prefer novels where fox-hunting comes—- ‘ Guy Livingstone,’ for instance, AVliat a splendid fellow lie Avas, and what a humdrum country is ourß, where there is nothing to amuse one except theaters. If I had my own way I should he an actress. Don’t you think so too, Mr. Chester?” “ Capital!” responded that young man Avith emphasis, and a pleased, lialfamused, lialf-eamest look, which didn’t escape liis watchful sire, though he did not uuderstand it. “ He’s a ninny !” was the mental reflection of the latter. “ What sort of a

wife would she make?” was his next involuntary thought, until it suddenly occurred to him, with something like a shock, that this was really, after all, the woman he had chosen for his son’s wife, for his daughter-in-law, for the mistress of hie house And household. And again he looked at Lena—very kindly this time. “ Yon must see my Beelzebub, resumed Miss Dashwood, enthusiastically; “such a charming creature ! full of spirit, yet so tractable and affectionate I assure you, sir,” addressing the Squire, “ he’ll walk into the breakfast room and drink out of your coffee-cup at the table.” This assurance appeared to have no particular charm for Squire Chester, for he turned away with very little ceremony. Miss Dashwood went up stairs on some errand, anil they heard her whistling as she crossed the halL “Philip,” Avhispered the Sqaire, “I think we liad better be going.” “Not yet, sir. Miss Dashwood is about to show me her new pistols, and then she will teach me a new game with cards, and afterward we are to go to the stables.” “ Go to where ?” “To the stables, sir, to look at the horses. ” The Squire cast on him a look of concentrated indignation. “Is that—is Miss Dasliwood, or Joe, or whatever she is called, a man or a woman ?” “ Tiie latter I presume, sir. It is the fashion nowadays, you know, for dashing young women like her to adopt a masculine style in general. It sits well ou Miss Joe—don’t you think so, sir?” “ Miss Joe be—” The old gentleman recollected himself in time. But he had seen enough of the dashing Miss Josephine, his old friend, Simon Walder’s niece, and very moody was he as he rode homeward that night. “Philip,” said he, a day or two after, “ I don’t see the use of your going to Elmwood so often, noAV that Miss Dashwood is there.” “AVliy not, sir? I thought you would like it. “The truth is, I’m disappointed in Miss Dashwood. I can’t approAc of such a Avoman as a Avife for any man save, a horse-dealer or circus rider. Especially should I not approve of her as mistress of this house. “ I have no desire to sec my drawingroom turned into a dog-kennel, or to have horses Avalking in and drinking out of my coffee-cup. In fact,-” said the Squire, waxing warm, “I Avon’t havemy future daughter-in-law going about the house whistling and odorous of brandy and cigars, too, I shouldn’t wonder ; I heard her say it Avas the fashion. Ugh !” Philip was satisfied; the more so Avhen, a week later, liis father observed that little Lena would make as good a Avife for him as any he could get. The wedding took place Avitliiu six months. Miss Dashwood, herself a happy bride, Avas present, and tho Squire, wondered exceedingly at the great change and improvement wrought in her by the influence of marriage.