Rensselaer Republican, Volume 17, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 September 1884 — NED PROCTOR’S MOTHER. [ARTICLE]

NED PROCTOR’S MOTHER.

Miss Lily Frink awoke with a Vague sense that something had happened. What was it 2 She looked about the room—at the crimson Canton flannel curtains, the corner bracket with its lambrequin of macrame lace, and its Chinese vase, from which drooped three peacocks’ feathers; at the dressing case covered with a’litter of ribbons and flowers pertaining to her toilette of the previous evening. Flowers —oh, yes, the flowers recalled it. She was engaged! That may seem a strange event to have been effaced from a young lady’s mind by a night’s sleep, but then it was not an entirely new event to Miss Lily. She had been engaged before, several times, indeed, but for some reason her engagements seemed singularly lacking in the quality of permanency. She sat up ih bed, the thick, sleepruffled braids of her brown hair falling pver her shoulders, her uncurled bangs jutting wildly out above her forehead and leaning forward far enough to bring her face within range of the mirror. “How do you do, Mrs. Ned Proctor?” she said, smilingly to the white-robed image which smiled dimly back to her through the folds of the mosquito net. Then she threw herself back upon the pillow again, her hands clasped beneath her head, and gave herself up to reminisence. Miss Lily was rather a plump, piquant- little* person, with a smooth, fair a trifle freckled in a strong light, and clear china, blue eyes which, totally destitute of expression at other times, twinkled pleasantly when she laughed. Just now they twinkled very pleasantly, indeed, and a complacent smile curved her full red lips. “Ned Proctor!” she said in a tone of mingled triumph and surprise, “the girls will hardly believe it. I wonder how he feels about it this morning?” Here she drew one.of her plump hands frqm beneath her head and looked at a ring on the first finger. It was not the regulation solitaire which is the usual visible sign and token 61 the pre-mat-rimonial contract, but a heavy ring with a black oflyx setting, on the face of which a monogram was outlined in tiny diamonds. “I wonder how I feel about it myself,” she continued, reflectively twisting the rather loosely-fitting ring on her finger. “I must get up and tell mamma.” Mrs. Frink was neither plump nor piquant,though the general resemblance between herself and her daughter rendered probable the conjecture that she might have been both in youth, and while circumstances had been such as to lift her above those small crampings and pecuniary worries so unfavorable to the preservation of attractive attributes; but the attrition of lowered fortunes had induced a physical leanness and a mental sharpness fatal to feminine charms. Her thin, pointed face, shriveled like an untimely peach, wore a constant look of repressed complaint, her small pale eyes had an incisive gleam, andber voice a plaintive cadence eloquent of woe. She was in the breakfast room, hovering about the table with that depressed air of minute attention to the family comfort which she perpetually wore, when Lily entered and, coming up behind her, put her arms about the scarlet shawl that draped her spare shoulders, and held the onyx ring close before her eyes. Mrs. Frink took hold of the hand and pushing it farther away looked attentively at the ring. “Well.” she asked, “what does that mean ?”

“Do von recognize it!” “It's like that ring 1 have noticed on Ned Proctor’s finger.” “It is the ring you’ve noticed on Ned Proctor's finger,” returned Lily, releasing her hand. “Oh!” said her mother coldly, “you are going too far, I think.” “But it’s serious,” said Lily, laughing delightedly. “Serious! what do you mean?” “We’re engaged.” “Lily ?” tone was expressive oF~dfflpiir rather than surprise. “Well, why not?” asked Lily, pouting defiantly and twisting the ring about. Mrs. Frink emitted a slight groan, and went on with her occupation of straightening and rearranging the knives and forks and spoons, “I don’t see why you look like that,” said Lily, a little discomfitted. “He’s as nice as can be, and he must have money, you know, or he couldn’t live as he does." “He hasn’t a cent,” said her mother tartly. “I’ve told you so a dozen times." “But I’rp sure you’re mistaken. He subscribes to everything, he belonga to the most expensive club, he hires the best horses and carriages in the livery stable, they say he takes claret

and champagne every day tvith his dinner “And his mother pays for it all,” interrupted Mrs., Frink. ’ “Well, suppose she does. She has money then, and it will be his in time. That’s just the same as if he had it.” “How can it be his in time, if he spends it all beforehand ?” demanded Mrs. Frink, sharply as to tone v though a little vaguly as to construction. “Well, I'm engaged to him. anyhow,” said Lily, turning sullenly away, “I’m very sure,” she added to herself, $s she took her way through the hall to the whilom lumber room, now metamorphosed into a studio. “I’m very sure.it will be much pleasanter living with him at the Fremont than going on liko this at home.” . “Going on like this” referred to Miss Lily’s* attempts to eke out her slender allowance of pocket money by decorating plates, cups and. saucers, tiles, fans, ribbons, shells, panels, etc., for people with purses better tilled than her Own. At the holiday season she sold a good mauy of these things to kindly disposed acquaintances of the family, who thought it very creditable that she should show a disposition to relieve her widowed mother and her smalU salaried brother of the burden of providing her with the thousand and one superfluities a girl in society finds indispensable. She was not at all in love with her occupation for its own sake, however, and the long dull period during which no customer appeared, and the cups and saucers and shells slowly accumulated on the tables and shelves of her studio, was very dispiriting. Indeed, but for the consent and irritating goading of her mother, the studio would have been again surrendered to the dispossessed spiders and mud-daubers. Throwing herself into the faded old arm chair, whose shabbiness had dismissed it from more frequented rooms, she cast a glace of angry disdain at the heterogeneous collection of dolf and porcelain, then fixed a tearful gaze upon a melancholy owl depicted on a green silk banner. “It’s always the same tune,” she said despondently. “No money—no money. What does mamma expect? A girl who has money herself can’t expect to marnp a millionaire.” While she communed thus sadly with her own soul as typified by the melancholy owl. Mr. Ned Proctor sat at breakfast with his mother, in an almost equally despairing frame of mind. His mother was the very antipode of Mrs. Frink, a dark ponderous woman with a hoarse voice,, and a waddling gait that reminded one of a frog. Ned, on the contrary, was a most elegant creature, with soft, line, dark hair, a pale completion, and large gently eyes of that indefinable lme between gray and black, perhaps the most fascinating of all eyes. They wore a troubled expression at the moment. The breakfast being served in their own parlor, the mother and son were quite alone, and he had just confessed that he was engaged to marrv Lily Frink.

It had been a veritable confession,accompanied by all the trepidation and sense of guilt the word implies. “What in the world possessed yon to do that ?” croaked Mrs. Proctor. “That Frink girl’s as artful as Satan, and her mother’s even artfuler. I should think you could have seen that for yourself.” Ned leaned his head weekly upon his hand; and fanned himself with his handkerchief. “Of course you’ll do nothing of the kind,” his mother went on, taking her chop in her fingers and attacking it with her short yellow teeth. “I have enough to do paying your bills without taking the extravagant little minx qn my hands; so you can just go tins morning and tell her your mother won’t allow' it.” “ 1 cawn’t do that, you know,” said Nyd, wiping his forehead. “I never really meant to. propose, but I cawn’t act like a cad, you know!” - Ned had been abroad, and he affected Pie society of the young Englishmen who came over as cotton buyers for the Manchester factories. Mrsjj- Proctor looked at him w itk severity, but—his >elegant dejection pierced her heart through all the superincumbent flesh. She was very proud of being the mother of so much grace, aud always somewhat bewildered as to how it had come about. There were times, indeed, when as she looked at him, a terrible doubt of the reality of it would sieze upon her and an appalling fear that he might rise up and repudiate her. She had read of children, changed in the cradle, discovering their real parentage after they had arrived at man's estate, and thoughshehad nursed him herself through all his years of infant incapacity, as she now suppotred his hardly more capable manhood, this irrational fear would still haunt her like a nightmare. It seized upon her now as, she looked at him across the table, one hand supporting his beautiful head, the other thrown negligently over the back of his chair, the long finger loosely clasping a white handkerchief. So t rare and fine a creature must not be harshly dealt with.

“Jsever mind,” she said in a softir tone, “I’ll fix it for you.” “How do you mean?” “I’ll get you off,” she explained, nodding encouragingly. “But I—l—rather—like her you know,” said Ned faintly. “Nonsense!” croaked his mother, “there’s nothing about her to like.” “Don’t you think I’m the best judge of what I like ?” he asked, smiling faintly under his drooping niustache. “Certainly not,” returned Mrs. Proctor, promptly. “Not in a matter of this kind. I let you have everything you like in the way of eating and drinking, and clothes and amusements, don’t I?” Ned raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. “Well, why can’t you be satisfied then ? Don’t you see that if there’s another to feed and clothe there’ll be less for you? Besides marrying’s a thing can’t be undone in a hurry if you don’t happen to like it. Better keep out *of it.”* She laid her knife and fork across the plate and rose with decision. “Send me a carriage at 11,” she said, “I owe them Frinks a call.”

“I wish you’d let the matter alone, mother,” urged Ned, “you’ll only make me ridiculous.” . “Ridiculous!” she croaked in her hoarsest note. “Am I ridiculous?” The question was unanswerable. “There’s Mrs. Proctor coming up the walk,” said Mrs. Frink. “Coming to call on her daughter-in-law that is to be, I suppose,” she added Tsarcastically, Lily met the visitor at the door with her iiiost amiable smile! “We’re so glad to see you,” she said, laying the large pudgy hand upon her arm, and leading her to the most comfortable chair. “Whew! it’s very warm,” exclaimed the visitor untying her bonnet strings, and fanning herself vigorously. It was only April, but Mrs. Proctor was always too warm. ' “I met your son as I was coming,” sjie continued to Mrs. Frink. “He’s a fine, capable young man. I wonder he isn’t thinking of marrying, I should think he was able to sujiport a wife, lie’s so industrious.” Mrs! Frink smiled darkly, and glanced with a scarcely perceptible nod at Lily. “Yes,” she assented, “I suppose George could support a wife if he chose.” “Perhaps it would suit him better to have a wife to support him,” rejoined Mrs. Proctor with her hoarse laugh. “That’s what my Ned’ll have to have. I’ve always supported him, and he don’t know the first thing about making a living for himself. I tell him I’m willing to support him until he marries, and then he’ll have to look to his wife. I can’t be bothered with a young woman’s whimsies. I suppose you could support !j husband quite nicely now,” she continued, turning to Lily. “I’m told you’ve a very pretty talent for painting.” “Indeed! I’ll never support any man,” said Lily indignantly. “Oh, lio,” croaked the old lady.showing her yellow teeth in a broad laugh. “Look ont you get one that can support you then, my dear. I didn’t know but that was what the women are after. They’re making such a fuss now a days about their right to work. I never knew they hadn’t the right to work as much they wanted to. I worked when I was young, and helped my'husbaqd lay up all he made. All I've got belongs to me by right as well as by law. I count that I made it myself, every doliarpof it, and more too. I looked after the cattle and sheep and managed the place two-thirds of the time, while Proctor was away buying and selling. When he died he gave Ned his half, as he had a right to do, and I kept mv own. Ned spent his share, but I’ve saved mine, and I mean to save it. Ned and I can live comfor-

on my interest, and that’s all we can do, and all I mean to do. I shan’t break into my capital for anybody. So if any woman wants to marry him bad enough to undertake to support him, she can do it, but she needn’t look to lire,, that I can tell her.” Poor Lily, flushed and paled, looking imploring at her mother, who listened with lowered lids aud unmoved countenance. A short silence ensued, Mrs. Frink. waited a little in order to deliver her shot with deliberation. “Pm sure you’re quite right,” she said in her measured voice, at the samo time unmasking the needle batteries of her eves, but you ought to take him to New England where. men(are scarce; our girls are not reduced to such extremities yet.” “Oh! I’m not anxious,” retorted Mrs. Proctor, with an uneasy toss of her head. “A son’s different from a daughter. If lie nover marries there’s no ih arm. Everybody knows it's liis pwn fault.” She rose as she spoke, offering her hand to Lily. “Don’t trouble to come to the door,” she said, “I can walk very well without help. Practice your painting well, my deal'. I think it’s quite .right a girl should know how to earn her own living. Good-by, Mrs. Frink. Tell Mr. George it's quite time lie was thinking of marrying. He’s getting quite baldand she waddled away with her frog like chuckle. “The horrid old thing!” ejaculated Lily, wiping her blue eyes on the end of her sash. “Well, I hope your satisfied,” said her mother dryly. The clock struck 12. “I’ve been engaged just twelve hours,” sighed Lily, taking off the onyx ring.