The Portland daily press., 1876-07-24
THE PRESS.
[From the Galaxy.l
A Slight misunderstanding.
GCoNCLUDED.l


with bold, steady look down into her eyes,
which met his half way. Then that glance
passes-that Undesirable challenge which
resembles that flourish with which two fem
GERS salute each other as they measure the
foils. He forgets everything but the face be-
side him; and for the next half-hour they
talk that nonsense which seems SO clever at
the moment and so silly next day. But the
last carriage rolls off down the drive, and
Mrs. Mackenzie develops a regard for the
proprieties which Blake was not familiarwlth
in Laura Mabury, and leaves him with
most gracious "Good night" and 1'long lin
gering" pressure of her strong white hand.
The lights go out; the ladies trail their long
lengths of silk or muslin up the broad stairs,
and leave the world to darkness and final
cigar, during the consumption of which
Blake finds the ''horsey" talk of Vanvoorst
rather monotonous. AT length, as the big
Dutch clock on the staircase, alter the usual
preliminary sound of stranguiation, strikes
two, he puts out his candles, and tumbling
into bed, is lulled to sleep, in spite Of re-
morseiul conscience, by the gentle sound of
rain and the dreary song of the tree-toads.
About nine o'clock the next morning our
young friend has the honor of a tete-a.tete
breakfast with his elderly host, these two be-
ing the only ones down at that early hour.
Mr.. Vanvoorst conyerses with a happy mix
ture of old school dignity and elephantine
humor much akin to the manner ofhis friend
the Judge; but he is sufficiently pleasant to
make Blake feel doubly uncomfortable and
guilty; to such an extent that he revolves in
his mind many excuses of the day. Break
fast over, the senior has business with his
farmer, and the younger, cigar in mouth and
hands In pockets, stands on the piazza and
looks over long slope of well-kept lawn at
at the gray stretch of river. 1t it muggy
morning, and the opposite hills are half hid
den in mist. No rain is falling, but every
branch and twig drips with moisture, and the
gravel of the drive, has that clean, we'll
washed look that tells of hard rain some time
in the night Mr.. Blake finds his surround
ings luxurious, but not inspiriting, and de-
bates whether he,shall be called back to New
York by some bold fiction of forgotten bust
ness, or telegram from dying uncle or wheth.
er he shall honestly but ANONYMOUSLY run
away, and leave the sharers of his guilty Sc.
cret to explain his flight. Two Influences
are at work against his going-one, that half
acknowledged "softness" as he called it,
which makes him linger in Kate Stuart's
quiet presence, whenever he has the chance,
fancying that he feels better man there than
elsewhere; the other, a reckless wish 10 see
the thing through, which had its origin in
his interview with Mrs. Mackenzie. Mrs.
Mackenzie has a peculiar effect on most men,
inspiring them to do things sometimes bad
and generally silly, quite irrespective of heir
original dispositions and capacities. She had
been known 10 make mild young clergy
man, admirably in leading side in croquet,
and at the social tea and muffin, forget his
simpler pleasures, and sit glowering in si-
lence, or opening his mouth only for the ut
terance of ponderous Johnsonian sarcasms-
as soon to be expected from him as absinthe
from cream jug.
Not so inconsistent is Bake's final deter
mination to stay and see the game out, at
which he arrives after some minutes hard
thinking. Then with a vast sigh he sits on
the top step of the piazza and smokes When
does he not smoke?
From the breakfast room now comes a
sound of life, and presently Mrs. Vanvoorst
and Kate Stuart, fresh as only girls can be.
when on summer morning they come to
finish what they began the night before. 1t
seems improbable that either of these ladies
has any designs on Blake, however, for after
few original remarks on the temperature,
they pace the piazza and talk about-what
do girls talk to one another about? Some
times about men, it is said. Blake is not
conceited, and concludes that the present con-
versation has for its subject that most sacred
OF all things-clothes. Not until Mrs. Van
worst goes into the house to minister to
some very late riser does Miss Stuart vouch-
safe to him word. Then she allows her.
self to be beguiled into large chair whence
she gazes placidly at the young man before
her, and talks of many things.
"What do / do? Oh, not much of any,
thing-that is what makes the place so very
Jolly, don't you know? They don't try to
Qnfo oil Sc he ~
making one happy. 1t is such a very pretty
place. See down there, Mr.. Blake, you can
see ever so many miles along the river. You
are looking quite worn out-you ought to
take your vacation. What do you men do
with yourselves in New York? Go up to
Thomas's? Nothing else, suppose. Run
up into the country to see your friends T?
That's so good of you. You ought at least
to stay here long enough to find out what a
nice place it Island what nice people we all
are. Who is Mrs. Mackenzie, Mr.. Blake?"
Mr.. Blake finds this coming to the point in
great hurry, but explains to some extent the
mystery of Mrs. Mackenzie-who she used 10
be, principally.
"Well,'' says the young lady, in her quiet
est manner, "she intends to be Mrs, Van
worst soon, that is quite evident. One can't
blame her much, can one? Such pretty
place, and such nice old gentleman-and it
would be rather good speculation, too,
wouldn't it?"
AS if to show what good speculation it
is, the nice old gentleman at this moment
presents himself, and says good morning TO
Miss Stuart with that mixture of old-sclool
gallantry and paternal affection which make
him deservedly the admiration of his friends,
but which cause Mr.. Blake to say to himself
irreyerently, "Confound the old fool! What
In a. oil D. L
torT' The old man and the young one
form striking contrast. Mr.. Vanvoorst
meets his age bravely, in an admirable gray
wig, and whiskers which the typical English
man might envy, and a blue cravat, and a
white waistcoat, and check trowsers; do we
not all know the conventional get-up? He
stands, erect and smiling, saying pretty little
things about her similarity to morning, and
to rose, and other agreeable objects; very
different being from the young man of the
present day, who, in his easy gray clothes,
and straw hat tilted over his eyes, leans lam
guidly against pillar, looking calm indffer-
ence to all things earthly. They are much
the same thing after all; and the elder, with
his beautiful politeness and cordially, is in
Wardly as easily bored as the younger is out
wardly.
Enter Mrs. Mackenzie. The young man
ANono ASSoiJ piOaoCu, dlu ltludThS ulSdp-
provingly about the weather. Again Mr..
Vanvoorst produces his original SMILES
about the morning and the rose, and in the
conversation that follows shines with his ac-
customed brilliancy. The household begins
to amuse itself each in its own way. Mrs.
Mackenzie goes off with Mr.. Vanvoorst and
a yellow umbrella-though there is no sun
to look at the glass houses. The glass houses
do not appear to be satisfactory; tor when
Blake, on his way with Vanvoorst, junior, to
that natural haven of the young male of our
species, the stables, meets the happy pair
coming back, the lady has an upright and
severe manner and high color, and her es-
cort, who follows with deprecating look, is
absolutely without a complicated Witticism
for the young men-a thing unprecedented.
Our sagacious hero, in the language of Mr..
Twain, ISLANDS from UNDER" ana is soon
oblivious 10 care in a fascinating atmosphere
OF horses, clean straw and Scotch terriers,
The day grinds along, as days do at a
country house. The women keep up an ap-
pearance of doing something, or read novels,
the men make no pretence till the New York
papers arrive, when they become animated
enough to bewail the future of their country,
After lunch the tables are turned; it is now
.he men who make the pretence, and assum-
ing studiousness, fall asleep over books and
papers, in various uncomfortable chairs and
places, while the feminine portion seclude
themselves with the avowed purpose of slum-
oering. Oh, wretched hours of summer
Al fnrr1