Democratic Sentinel, Volume 21, Number 15, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 April 1897 — A TERRIBLE TEMPER. [ARTICLE]

A TERRIBLE TEMPER.

“If there is anything especially obnoxious to me,” avowed Miss Murphy, In solemn conclusion, “it is interference with the affairs of others; but in this case I said to myself, ’Duty, Mary Anne Murphy, duty!’” “Oh!” gasped Jessica. She had sunk back in her rose-ribboned rattan rocker in quite a tremor of dismay. A very charming room this suburban parlor into which gold bars of sunshine slanted through the half-closed Venetians. Worthy even of pretty Jessica — it, with its tiled hardwood floor, its sll-ve»-fox and bearskin rugs, its Madrasdraped windows, its quaintly modern mantel of polished oak, its eccentric chairs, its grotesque tables, its dainty aquarelles, its Chinese cabinets, its slender but admirably chosen collection of bisque and Limoges. And surely eye, however critical, could crave no sweeter picture than little Miss Raymade in her pale blue surah tea-gown, cascaded with Valenciennes, and all her bronze-bright ripply hair braided in childish fashion down her back. But just now the lovely face was curiously colorless, the purple-blue eyes wide and startled under their long lashes.

There was silence after that sharp exclamation of Jessica’S. Miss Murphy could afford to be silent. She had had dropped her small shell and It had exploded with a most satisfactory report. She sat rigidly erect in the consciousness of duty done, every fold of her black silk visiting costume stiff with propriety, every pompon on the brown biege. bonnet bristling with respectability. “I don't believe a word of it!” declared Jessica, slowly. If Impolite, the remark was in no degree insolent. It was simply the utterance of a conviction. Miss Mufphy was not offended. She removed her gaze from a gem of Van Elton’s on the opposite wall to fasten It on the agitated little lady in the rocker. It took some endurance on Jessica's part to sit meekly under the scrutiny of those faded blue eyes—eyes tolerant, placid, beaming, as those of a benignant old cow. nrw true, nry near. rie oom iv. i heard him with my own ears!” This really was unanswerable.

“They were in the front parlor,” pursued Miss Murphy, folding her plump, tan-gloved hands with aggravating leisure and serenity. "I sat sewing just behind the portiere. I never would have stayed could I only have foretold what was coming. They had been talking about other things, and where silent for awhile. Suddenly my Ned burst out laughing. ‘So you’ve seen her,’ he said, ‘and you don’t fancy her, eh?’ ‘Fancy her?’ echoed Jack. ‘Well, I should say not!’” “Well?” urged Jessica, steadily. She would hear it out, she told herself —she would —every word of it! “Well, then,” slowly, to heighten by suspense the effect of her narrative, “Ned said, ‘The boys around here all like her immensely. Roy Pates says she’s a daisy!’ ” “Oh!” moaned Jessica. “You must excuse that nephew of mine, my dear; you really must. Ned but repeats what he hears. Besides, you know, he is only a boy yet—just eighteen. What Ned said is of no importance. Please go on.” She sat erect again very pale and imperative, indeed. “If you insist on hearing,” hesitantly, Jack replied, ‘Well, I don’t I did Just at first. I confess for a while she deceived me. But a few days gave me enough of her.’ Ned said, ‘Why, we all thought you were in great luck to get her.’ ‘Luck!’ cried Jack in answer, so loud, my dear, I fairly jumped. ‘Luck! Yes, the most confounded piece of bad luck I ever struck!” I am ashamed to say, my dear, but to be veracious I must say that here Ned, quite carried away by his youthful sympathies, inquired, ‘Can’t you get out of it?’ And Jack said, ‘Confound it, no! That’s the worst of it. I can’t break such a contract with any honor to myself. But I only wish some other fellow stood in my shoes*just now. I’ve promised to take her and I’ve got to do it, but it’s a deuced bad bargain’— oh, my dear Jessica, you’re not going to paint!” Jessica put out her hand with a slight, repressing gesture. “No, Miss Murphy, I am not going to faint. Is that all?” Miss Murpliy was rather disconcerted. Her shell had not exploded noisily. It is true. But now that the smoke was clearing away she, at whose feet it had been flung, was not dead —not even wounded. “Yes, I believe that was all, for just then someone summoned Jack. But* as he went out, he called back to Ned: ‘l’ll see you at Bryane’s to-morrow night and talk this unfortunate blunder over again. Be in my study at 10. I’ll meet you there.’ ” “And that really is all?” queried Jessica, quite her own possessed self again.

Mis? Murphy started. To once more drop into similes, her balloon which had sailed up so straightly and securely at first had uddenly collapsed and whs falling with startling rapidity. “t should think,” severely, “it would be quite eflough.” “Enough?” airily. “That’s It! It’s too much! You know an overdose of poison occasionally counteracts the effect of a lesser quantity," and I think,” with

| a smile charmingly confidential, "it ts : something the same way with gossip—■ j don’t you?” It was Miss Murphy's turn to gasp, j Such a girl! But then one never could : understand Jessica Ray. Miss Murphy thought it was time to go. With the cessation of conversation com‘ruing personal affairs her interest died a natural death. She was averse to vad ins in foreign waters. The inodorous pool scummed over with village scandal sufficed her. She feared aught else. "Good-by, my dear," with a bewildered shake of the tinseled bonnet. 1 am Vo sorry I had to tell you. Life is full y unpleasant duties. I never like to interfere in other people's affairs. ‘Siarity,’ I always say; ‘charity and uiyiy detest it is tale-bearing. Well, as I said, I must be going. Good-by. myflear. I’m so glad you don’t mind.” “Oood-by,” cordially. " all thought,” pausing at the door for a parting thrust, "that it was to be not only a marriage de convenance, but a genuine love affair on both sides.” “Indeed!” said Jessica, brightly arching her pretty brows. And then at last the door closed on shcr visitor's-, broad, black-silk back. The blitheness born of bravado died out tvf lime Miss Ray’s face. She went slowly back t jje rose-ribboned rocker and down therein for a good, heartsick, mortified, miserable cry. When she had been very, very young \ n d charming, and Jack Sutherland ah awkward lad of ten, their fathers lx*d planned a marriage in the future. The planning stood, by the way, upon a\ agreeably substantial basis, looking atfhe affair from a financial point of vldv. Soon after Jack's father had died md Jack had gone to live with his mothy’s relatives in Eng-

land. He carried wth him the memory of a pair of sweet e*s, for all the world like big, blue, dew-\et forget-me-nots, for wee Jessica han parted from her playmate with a particularly tender and protesting farewell.) Twelve years passed. Neither chaftd —as In novelistic traditions bourn—against the paternal decision of their childhood. No fair English maiden displaced his first love in Jack’s loyal healt. As for Jessica, she had grown to \hink.of Jack as a hero who was comßg across the sea to claim her. When she anticipated that coming before her mind’s eye forth pranced a snowy charger bearing a plumed knight. On day, just two weeks ago it was, she went down to the drawing room In response to the servant’s announcment. A gentleman standing In the window turned at her entrance. He came swiftly forward, both hands extended, his face brightening with gay admiration. “It Is—lt is—little Jessica!” She knew him then. Without curveted no splendid steed. By his side swung no jeweled scabbard. Around his neck was swung no mandolin. From his shoulder fell no cloak of ruby velvet. Not stalwart statured was he, nor raven haired, nor flashing eyed. Not the grand creation of her girlhood’s sweet foolish dreams, In truth, his rivals would have said, a very ordinary young man. But he had come! Jessica’s heart gave a great throb. A true woman, though, ego, an archhypocrite, she put her hand in his with

bred reproof in her greeting. “And you are—Mr. Sutherland!” Neither had in any way suggested the odd relation in whjch they tacitly stood to each other. Both felt the chain that bound them, for all its massive golden links a very and brtttfcone in tho passionate strength of youthful impulse. Neither would be slow to fling it off if the bandage proved oppressive, however, It did not. The childish, ignorant, romantic affection which had been smoldering in their hearts since the sorrowful parting of the playmates, at a word, a touch, a look blazed up into a pure, and strong, and steady flame. Of his courtship Jack Sutherland made short work. Putting aside the understanding between their fathers like the man he was, he woed her for her own sweet sake. Just two nights ago he had told her In his own direct fashion how dearly he loved her. And Jessica —well, last evening had come the lappmre ring that —only last evening and to-day this! If Miss Murphy’s neat little shell had not brought death It had caused pain akin to it. “It’s the money!” mqaned Jessica. “It’s the horrid detestable money he wants. It isn’t me!” Anjl then a face with clear brown eyes and a kind grave smile arose before her aid she broke down crying afresh. But after awhile she sprang up rubbing two small resolute fists In two very pink eyes. “I won’t see him tonight. And I’ll be In the 'library at 10. And I’ll hear what else he has to —No, I won’t! I won’t eavesdrop. But I’ll look my very loveliest—l will —I will!” And she did. As she came up the parlors at Mrs. Bryant’s “small and early” Miss Murphy—always first on tie field—looked at her in amazement. Quite a bewitching vision little Miss Ray to-night, rose-lipped, star-eyed, snpling, her slim, dusk draperies of lace trailing softly behind her, a huge clister of violets at the bosom. It was after 10 before she could escape from her companion and make her way to tne library. Her hand on the portieH dividing that apartment from the morning room, she paused. Voices. She didn’t Intend to eavesdrop. Of course, it was unintentional —all was said and over bo quickly. Equally of course it vas dishonorable, but I think as a rule we are not apt to consider questions of honor with extreme nicety when our hearts are very sore. “I’ve decided to take her,” Jack’s quiet voice was sayiig wearily. “It’s the only thing I can |o now.” Ned spoke. “She’s skittish, I kibw, but (by way of consolation) she mjy outgrow that.” Jessica groaned involuntarily. Jack glanced toward the dirtain. “Well, drop the subect.” in a lower voice: “Keep It dark,like a good boy. I don’t want people tdknow I am such a young fool as to It taken in by a bag of bones, all painnnd drugs.” Jessica was plump ts a partridge, and her complexion vas a “bloom” patented by nature’s J If. The morn-ing-room was unlit, save from the hall. Thank goodnei# for that! She felt herself growing pint and dizzy.

Was that Jack who talked ao—could U !*—her Jack? "Ob, come now!" laughed Ned, "you know you are exaggerating. She's no* quite as bed as that!” ' Pretty nearly!” ruefully. “I don’t so much mind her skittlshness —I could break her of that. I flatter myself—but she has a terrible temper!" She must not faint, Jessica told her- ! self frantically. Oh, she must not! Was that dark thing beside her in the shadow of the portiere a fauteull? She sank down on it heavily, weakly, exhaustedly. Horror of horrors! It at first succumbed a second to her weight, then move-, protested with vigorous energy, shrieked. All faintness banished, Jessica leaped to her feet, her soft, quick cry of alarm mingling with that muffled roar of rheumatic agony. "That’s aunt!” gasped Ned. ‘‘Jessica!” cried Jack. He strode forward and flung aside the portiere. The ! light from the library poured Into the shadowy morning-room. It fell on Jessica standing jyst within very white and trembling, and it showed on the floor a large and ungraceful heap of crushed drab silk and bugles, disordered “front.” and gruesome groans. For a moment they stood and stared —speechless. But Miss Murphy kept on groaning. “What is it all about?” queried Ned bewilderedly, helping his aunt to rise. “I—I,” faltered Jessica, "sat down on Miss Murphy!" “What?” cried Ned. “We were eavesdropping," confessed Miss Murphy, with venomous candor, “and Jessica took me for a footstool and ” “My darling!" whispered Jack (no, not to Miss Murphy) "I thought when I hoard your voice you were hurt or—” Jessica llamed up. "How dare you? Stand back sir! Here’s your ring.” She tugged bravely, but It fitted well. “I have hqai'd In what manner you speak of me. No,” disgustedly, “don’t appear astonished! Recall your conversation of yesterday morning with Ned Sales.” Ned stared at being thus abruptly referred to. Jack looked dazed. "I did not intend to hear such another conversation as that which had been repeated to me, but I did. If I’m—l’m,” the rose crimsoning in her cheeks, "skittish,” bringing out the hateful word with a Jerk, "and—and a deuced—bad—bargain,” slowly, "and if I’ve got a ter —ter—here’s your ring!” She had wrenched it off at last. But Jack did not take it. His dumb dismay had turned to uproarious tfvirth. It was well a noisy polonaise was in progress in the drawing-room. He laughed. He kept on laughing. Suddenly the whole ludicrous misunderstanding bursting on Ned he struck In with a very howl of delight, and they fell into each other’s arms like a couple of crazy boys and supported each other and laughed. But recollecting Jessica standing there, Sutherland explained, between shameful relapses into laughter, ‘‘lt was—a horse. I thought I knew all about horseflesh. I knew nothing. I have to take her —the idlocv I fondly fancied I b» /1 * Maud S. Jim Smile"’* iam °un nag could beat her z gave a thousand for her. She’s worth—an, now you understand!” For Jessica had sprung forward, mouth and eyes three sweet, remorseful "O’s?"

“Jack—Jack! And how I talked Just now!” all riotous blushes. “I must have, after all, a—a —the kind of a tftninfir.ynu tlio Wpa had." “I’ll risk it!” laughed Jack. Heedless of Mrs. Bryant’s small nephew, who .had entered and stood stockstill an exclamation point of inquisitive deilght; heedless of Ned, who clung In snent, spasmodic convulsions to the portiere; heedless even, thiß rash young man, of Miss Murphy—that ancient virgin who, rigid and frigid, glowered at him in an access of scandalized modesty, he took his sweetheart in his arms with a good, long, loving kiss, and thus adoringly addressed her: “Doubted me, did you? You—contemptible little—wretch!”