Democratic Sentinel, Volume 16, Number 28, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 July 1892 — A WOMAN'S INFLUENCE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A WOMAN'S INFLUENCE

BY LULU JAMISON

CHAPTER lll—Continued. “I thought you were afraid of the wet sand," she said. “It you entertain any fears for your delicate constitution I advise you to return to.the village." ’’Which is a pjllte way of expressing your wish to be rid of me; but I have no desire to spend the day in those hencoops. There’s the sun now. Blessed sight! I’m going to move this shawl up there where it is dryer. May 1? It is positively suicidal-to sit here. If you should be ill, I’ll have to act as Eseuiapius, for there isn’t a man of pills and squills in the. whole village, I’m told. Bo be warned in time. " “It will be more prudent, no doubt, ” -admitted Margaret, allowing him to move the shawl in question, “but we -can’t see the waves so well.” “That’s no great loss. We know they are there, which is just as good. Do you know, I’ve be< n thinking of you all night. Beally, I had a strange dream in which you seemed to be leading me, and some influence compelled me to follow; Don’t look, skeptical, please, and say nonsense. It was all very real, I assure you. One of those old men called you Miss Margaret. Please tell me if that is your name? I have quite a curiosity to know.” “Your curiosity is easily satisfied. My name is Margaret. ” “Thanks. I’ve always had an odd fancy for the name. It seems to mean so much. It is her name, too. Curious, isn’t it?” “Not at all,” responded Margaret 'promptly. “The name Is common •enough, I dare say. ” "Perhaps. I like it*nevertheless, I -only wish she were like you. ” Margaret moved impatiently, and replied with a susDiclon of petulance; “I’m like myself and no one else. ‘Variety is the spice of life;’ so please don’t compare me with any unknown ‘she’s.’ ” “.Oh, this one’s tolerable "enough,” he rejoined, “and smart, too, I dare say. She’s managed to feather her nest at my expense. Perhaps she’s gloating ■over me at this very moment. ” “How can you say that?" asked Margaret, with some warmth. "You have no right to judge people that way. She may hate the very sight of the money.” “Money!" repeated Brian, in some •surprise. “I said nothing about money.” “No,” she returned, thoroughly angry with herself; “but I am sure money has4Bomething to do with the injury you ■speak of. I know she isn’t so hateful •as you think her. It is neithor just nor Tight to condemn her unheard.” He laughed at her earnestness. “I ■suppdse she isn’t a bad sort,” he admitted, pulling at some seaweed beside Mm. “I don't see why you take such An interest in her, though. ” She flushed at these direct words. “I speak in general terms,” she replied, unable to meet his searching glance. “I simply say you have no right to assume certain things, and I wish you would not run people down in my presence, especially when I don’t know them, and cannot take their part, I hate it; it is against my principles, and it’s ■contemptible besides.” She rose to her feet and walked away In some excitement, already regretting her childish warmth. “Tell .me about it," she added, imperiously, returning to her old place. ■"What did your cousin do?* Another mistake. She bit her lips as the word cousin escaped her, but fortunately Brian had not noticed it. “Do?” he echoed, still regarding her with an amazed expression. “She didn’t do anything. Only my father happened to think so much of her and to little of me that he left her a fortune and me a beggarly income to starve on. No use living without money either. But I’ll forgive her if she marries me, and I •dare say she will.” The confidence of this assertion was too much for Margaret. “•Didn’t I understand you to say you had never met her?” she asked, in a voice unnaturally quiet and full of scorn, that made no impression upon him. He replied in the most imperturbable manner. “No, I haven’t seen her. that’s true; but I dare say she’ll make a good wife, And ” These words further enraged Margaret. ■ “How dare you," she cried, without giving him a chance to complete his sentence. “I never heard of such unparalleled impudence in my life. I daresay you consider your charms so overwhelming that every woman must be •overcome by the bare sight of them. If I were your cousin you would very soon discover your mistake. A conceited man is the very abomination of desolation.” “You show your oontempt very freely,” relumed Brian, not overpleased with her remarks. - “If I suggest the idea of my cousin’s marrying me it is because of the ciroumstanees. Father would have liked it, I know. Perhaps he had the idea in his head when he made his will.” Margaret grew; paler at these words, but she did not answer. “And don’t you know,” Brian continued, with a spice of malice, as he turned lazily In his effort to see her face, “a man can marry any woman he provided he goes about it the right way. No woman can withstand constant, enduring affection.” “Constant, enduring fiddlesticks!” was the contemptuous reply. “No doubt your knowledge of woman, her nature and capacities, is deep and profound, •but pray spare me your wisdom on the subject, or I may be tempted, like Aunt Sukey, to jaw. back. I dare say your constant, enduring affection is another variety of constant hanging on. I would ■despise a man eternally around me, Please don’t laugh so loud. I’m not trying to be amusing. ” | “No, I’ll wager not. Tell me what sort of man you do like. An Admirable Crichton, with every virtue under the sun?” “Heavenforbid! How tiresome such a perfect creature would be, and what a curiosity. No; I like men. Beal, actual men. Not ornamental show pieces.” “Like me, for instance. How complimentary you are. But the truth is I sha’n’t be even ornamental, if circumstances don’t ohange.” He looked away from Margaret as he uttered the last words and began to make marks with his heel in the sand. She watched his movements, but her mind was following up an engrossing train of thought. “Are you going to sit still and allow ! your life to map itself?” she asked, after , a second’s pause. 'lt seems to me you ■ have an opportunity to make a future ! for yourself. Why don’t you take ad- i

vantage of it? Ido admire a man who can fight against obstacles, and who wins for himself a great name and a high position, not because of, but in spite of the accidents of fortuno. And I certainly cannot understand how any person with oidinary talents can go through life with no ambition above amusement. I grow disgusted with myself.” “It is just as I expected,” replied Brian, endeavoring to speak lightly. “You’re strong-minded." “Thanks. I consider your remark a compliment, though you may not mean it as such. I don’t admire weak-minded men or women. lam glad to have ideas of my own, and not to be swayed by every passing word. You are laughing again. I suppose you consider me vastly amusing, but I think myself vastly nonsensical. There is something in the air, I dare say, or in the oompany,” she concluded mischievously. “The oompany without doubt,” he agreed. “I never pretended to amount to much, and I know I never shall. That is why I never considered It worth an effort. ” “Why not?” she asked quickly, some instinct prompting her sympathy. “You have so much befora you. It is never too late to begin, neither is it ever too early. That sounds like a. paradox, doesn’t it? Your profession is an advantage in itself. It is sueh a noble one.” “A dog’s life when it comes to practice, ” he answered. “I tell you there’s a lot of sentimentality in the world. People talk about this thing and that thing being ennobling and elevating, and all that nonsense, when they know about ae much of it as Ido of heaven. MJich good medicine has ever done me. I’ve tot my diploma. I’ve lugged it all over urope, but it hasn’t seen the light of day for many a long month. I know this don’t suit your ideas, but I never realized the need of practicing for a living. I expected to be independent, and where was the need?” “But now?” questioned Margaret. “Oh, now, my beloved cousin has stepped in and I’m as poor as the devil. I beg your pardon. The words are forcible but expressive. The feeling is wretched, but the experience worse. I’ll worry along somehow, unless a certain event come about. Are you going?” “Yes,” she returned, half absently gathering her things together. “I amhungry. I think it must be twelve o’clock, and here in S’conset we dine at that unfashionable hour. ” “A barbarous practice, but now that you speak of it, I begin to feel some inward cravings myself. May I walk under the shadow of your wing?” Without awaiting her permission he possessed himself of her shawl and trudged by her side through the deep sand to the village. Turning from o;.e of the grotesque little streets, into- a more grotesque Broadway, Margaret found that her appetite had been a true guide. It was twelve o’clock, and all S’conset was going to dinner. This pleasant duty S’conset never forgot, it being one of the unwritten, yet faithfully observed, laws of the small town that, whatever the individual’s occupation at the moment, the stroke of twelve should find him ready, and all ideas gave way to the reality—dinner. After leaving Margaret Brian found his own appetite had increased to an alarming extent, and he very gladly betook himself to his unpretentious abode and the meal awaiting him. He did full justice to the latter, and at the Bame time managed to take in the history of Captain Folger’s eight brothers and sisters, all of whom had reached their eightieth year and were still in the land of the living. As he showed some skepticism on this latter point, the Captain proposed a oruise to town, where the house in which they were all born should be pointed out to him. It is needless to say Brian was still unconvinced. He afterward discovered that town meant Nantucket, and cruise was the Captain's word for ride. These old seamen do not take kindly to the expressions of landsmen. They will greet you with the salutation, “Where are you heading?” instead of “Where are you going?” They will agree to “land" milk and vegetables at your door, and if you happen to be riding with an old captain you may be requested to shift your seat fore or aft, or midship, or to sit to the lfeeward, as the Case may be. It is even said, though we are not bound to believe it, that when the whaling industry failed through the discovery of coal oil, the old salts, obliged through necessity and not choice, to take to farming, encountered much difficulty from the fact that their oxen were land animals, and when commanded to go to port or starboard were too obtuse to obey the order. Horses were equally trying. Contrary to tactics on shipboard, a pull on the port rein made the animal sheer to port, when the old captain was bent on having him go to starboard. Under sueh difficulties plowing was slow work and farming a decidedly discouraging experience. After Brian had disposed of the double duty of eating and listening he spent some time in walking up and down the streets of the grim, small village, hoping for a chance encounter with Margaret. He came to the old pump, reported to have been set in its present place in the year of the declaration of American independence, and feeling in duty bound, he drank a cupful of its delightfully cold water. Still, not seeing Margaret, he determined to improve his hours of waiting-by observing the oottages around him. Mathematical accuracy had not been considered in their erection. Their slanting roofs, curious embrasures, odd wings, and sprawling proportions, supplemented by grotesque ornamentation in the nature of nameboards of ships, fantastic scroll work from unknown prcfws, and gayly painted figureheads made them the strangest-looking houses in the experience of man. Such names as “The Barnacle,” “The Anchorage," “Castle Bandbox,” “Big Enough," and “The Sardine Box” suggested another element of originality. “It beats me,” commented Brian, In terms evidently intelligible to himself. “Nothing interesting about them, though. I wish she’d come.” “She” not making her appearance to suit his convenience, he decided to go in search of her. He found her sitting in the doorway of her little cottage sewing, and without asking permission, but only sorry he had not come before, he sat down beside her and proceeded to give her a ludicrous description of the cottages he had seen. “You come the day after the fair,” she laughed in answer. “I’ve not only seen their exterior but their interiors also. Did you notice Captain Baxter’s old house? You must have, I think. It is near the pump. They say it is two hundred years old. Looks like it, doesn’t it? Some day I want you to see the curiosities it contains. The greatest lot. • ‘ Some of them come from the furthest Corners of the earth. The house has a real laughable history, too, but I’ll let Captain Baxter tell you that.' In story telling he is unapproachable.

Have yon written to your aunt? She might be worried.” “Oh, she’s all right," he answered. “I’ll write to-morrow. Do you like to sew?" “Not particularly. But we’re often obliged to do what we don’t like." “She’s poor," decided Brian. “I thought so ail the time. Confound it." This oonclusion was quite a surprise to himself. Why Margaret’s poverty should affect him was A' problem destined for future solution. ■ when he was leaving her at supper time he asked permission to call around in the evening, but she shook her head resolutely. “No; it will not be worth white. Igo to bed at eight o’olook. Don’t look so horrified. I know it is a tilirdery hour, but after you’ve been herd'a day or so you will feel the effects too, and be very glad to creep into bed even that early. Besides, the doctor ordered rest and quiet when I oame here, and I’m obeying his command to the letter. I dare say I’ll see you to-morrow. If you want diversion this evening go to the club house; you’ll find all the men there assembled smoking their pipes, and discussing the prospects for fishing to-morrow. You may gain much information." Brian did not follow this advice. Instead, he spent the evening in a high state of disooritent, and went to bed at half-past eight. [lO SB CONTIS USD. J