THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE.
"Your visitor is a strikingly handsome man, Mrs. Gower," said Mr. Dale, coming from the window to the table; "we shall be losing you one of these days as—Mrs. Gower," he continued, noticing by her pallor and the light in her eyes that she had been feeling intensely.
"He is wondrously so; and as well, what is more perilous to the hearts of our sex, he possesses a rare fascination of manner."
"I have been telling Henry not to jump at conclusions, for, perhaps Mr. King is married," said Mrs. Dale, curiously.
"He is, dear; but your husband is not one of those absurd beings who imagine all one's men friends to be possible suitors."
"Far from it, Mrs. Gower: I am a believer in men and women friendships, and if, in the numerous mistakes society makes, she would obliterate her opposition to such friendships, she would have fewer matrimonial blunders to chronicle."
"That is very true, Mr. Dale; I have frequently found it both mortifying, distressing and annoying to the last degree, at little social gatherings at Toronto, to find myself openly accused of flirtation, because some man friend and I dared to enjoy a tête-à-tête chat on some mutual topic of interest."
"But some women do flirt when they get a man in a corner, whether he is married or no," said Mrs. Dale.
"Yes; but because some do, we should not all drift as we are, into no conversation between the sexes," said Mrs. Gower.
"No, certainly not," said Dale; "Emerson says, 'I prize the mechanics of conversation, 'tis pulley, lever and screw;' and it is especially delightful between men and women—when it occurs."
"Yes, as you say—when it occurs—Mr. Dale; but why is it, that the more solid tone of conversation of men is so seldom blended with the, at times more refined, even if it be more frivolous, chit-chat of my sex? Simply because of our dread of gossip?"
"Then there is something 'rotten in the state of Denmark,'" said Mrs. Dale.
"There is, dear," said Mrs. Gower, gravely, rising from the table.
"Mr. Smyth is in the library, ma'am," said Thomas.
"Oh, ask him if he has lunched, Thomas."
"He has, ma'am."
"I am vulgar enough to have dined, Mrs. Gower," said Smyth, meeting them at the door of the library.
"As you please," she said, gaily, giving her hand; "'let ilka ane gang their ain gait.'"
"Your son is acting on that motto, Mrs. Dale," he said, looking from the window. "Don't stir, he is in the back way; and has evidently been wrestling with our York mud."
At this juncture Garfield appeared, breathless; and his pretty Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers all be-spattered.
"How did you come to grief, my son?" asked his father.
"Well, papa; first, I knocked down a sparrow with my catapult; it died game, falling on a foreign bird perched on a lady's steeple bonnet. Well, she was mad, phew! called me names for killing birds. I told her not to try to be funny, when she had stuffed ones on her head-dress. Next, I saw a man down street putting a mouth on his poor horse; man! how he sawed, tore the bit nearly through his head; well, I just let another lead fly, knocking his Christy stiff into the mud; then, he out of his butcher waggon and after me. I remembered some dimes in my pocket, got 'em, threw 'em behind—he bit, and I took my chance and distanced him," he said, panting for breath.
"That was sport," said Smyth, laughingly; "but I have had to shut down on my boy's hunting, we swell our city treasury by fining such fire-arms."
"Go to the kitchen, you poor little man," said Mrs. Gower; "and ask Thomas to brush you; he will get you some lunch, there is mud even in your curls; here, let me kiss you."
"Yes, you may," he said, condescendingly.
"Come along, son; mother will go with you."
"You don't ask what brought me in at this hour, Mrs. Gower," said Smyth.
"No, I have scarcely welcomed you, as yet."
"Well, I must out with it, even if it shortens my stay; for I have only a few moments. On my way up to dinner, I literally ran against King, he was in a brown study, and I in a hurry. 'Hello!' I cried, at which he stopped, and quite abruptly (so unlike him), said, 'Tell Mrs. Gower I have heard from Mr. Cole, senr., who has been ill at Montreal. His physician, Dr. Peake, ordered him to Florida, positively forbidding him to pass the cold season at Ottawa. He is extremely anxious about Charlie, who has not written him. A newspaper, with the announcement of his marriage, being the only communication from Bayswater direct;' and here it is, he gave it me for you. From some outside source he has heard that Charlie is ill, and wishes any of us to let him know immediately at his hotel, Jacksonville, if we have, or receive any news. He admits to King, that with the exception of the girl herself, the remaining members of the family Charlie has married into are a bad lot."
"Poor Charlie, he dreaded this marriage," she said, regretfully; "but seemed to be hemmed in by circumstances—a betrothal. Then she had five thousand pounds per annum, and his father wished him to carry it out; and Charlie is so yielding, altogether. When he told me about it, at the very last, I too advised him to go and carry out the arrangement. You see, as we know he was heart whole, and his salary was small, and he seemed born only to work the will of others, that it seemed a half natural sort of thing for him to drift into; still, if he is ill, and the family are horrid, and he over there alone, I feel sorry he went at all, poor fellow."
"A miserable marriage would break Charlie Cole up completely," said Smyth.
"Have you no mutual friend at London," said Dale, kindly, "to whom you could apply, and who might give you the facts of the case. Perhaps I can assist you. You told me before, Mrs. Gower, that it is to Bayswater suburb, your friend went; I knew a very prominent physician residing there, to whom I shall write, if you wish; a medical man is very often the very best medium in such cases."
"Oh, if you would, Mr. Dale; it would be a perfect relief to all of us," said Mrs. Gower.
"Here is the marriage insertion," said Smyth, reading: "'At Broadlawns, Bayswater, London, England, on September 28th, 1887, by the Rev. Claude Parks, Charles Babbington-Cole, Esq., of Toronto, Dominion of Canada, to Margaret, daughter of the late——"
"What's that! Miss Crew has fainted, poor girl," cried Mrs. Gower, "and hurt herself, I fear; there is water in the dining-room."
"I'll get it," cried Smyth.
Mrs. Dale, returning, said, "I wonder what caused it; she is delicate, I know, but I never knew her to faint before. My vinaigrette is on my dressing-table; would you get it, Henry, like a dear?"
"Thank you, Mr. Dale, she revives."
"Then I shall go, Mrs. Gower; and here, I shall leave the English newspaper with you; Lil wants you all to come over this evening, then we can talk over some plan—Mr. Dale's is a good one—to elicit information as to Charlie's position; Miss Crew is to come, too. Good-bye till evening."
"You had better go upstairs and lie down, Miss Crew; you look very white, and I fear you have hurt your head, poor girl," said Mrs. Gower, kindly.
"I did give it a knock, but you are all too kind; if it won't make any difference, I shall lie here for a few minutes."
"Very well, dear; and a glass of wine will be good for you."
"Oh, she never touches it, Elaine, she is rabid blue ribbon," said Mrs. Dale.
"And a very good color to wear, but when one is ill," said Mrs. Gower.
"Never mind the wine, Mrs. Gower, my head aches very badly, but all I want is to rest it a little; but shall feel very uncomfortable, though, if I delay your out-going; do go now."
"Yes, I suppose we must."
"Garfield, you stay with Miss Crew, darling, while Mrs. Gower dresses, and I put on my wraps."
"All O. K., mamma." After a few moments spent with 'The Pansy,' he comes over to the sofa.
"Miss Crew, Miss Crew; wake up."
"I was not sleeping, dear."
"But your brows were knit like this; and you looked so white. What did you faint for? I wanted you to come with us."
"Oh, never mind, don't talk about me; I want you to give me your catapult."
"Yes, I reckon I will, as young Smyth had to give his up; but I should like it if I get mad at a man for ill-treating his horse."
"But a better plan would be to read the name of the owner on the vehicle, and report him."
"Oh, that's too slow; when a fellow gets mad, he wants to let a lead fly right then," making a movement as if he was firing.
"Oh, but that is not the best way, my boy; the wise men of old waited until they were out of their temper."
"We don't; we just go, bang! but it was pretty good of them, I reckon. What did they say right at first, though?"
"They said, when the evildoer was brought before them, having done them a great wrong, 'By the gods, were I not in wrath with thee, I would have thee slain.'"
"Well, I guess that was noble of them; I reckon my catapult must go," he said, fondling it, "and here goes," he said, putting it into the fire; "but as I don't want to hear it hissing me, I'll put a finger in each ear."
Here Mrs. Gower, with Mr. and Mrs. Dale, entered, robed for the outer world, looking comely and comfortable. Mrs. Gower in blue, broken plaid skirt, with plain over-skirt, and waist of same color, bonnet to suit, tight mantle, with fox boa and muff. Mrs. Dale in plum color, with seal mantle; both women with the hue of health on cheek and lips, and with bright eyes.
"Come, Garfield, my son, into your overcoat with the speed of a New York despatch," said his mother.
"It seems too bad to leave you, Miss Crew," said Mrs. Gower, sympathetically; "are you sure I can do nothing for you before we start?"
"Quite sure, thank you; my head aches a little, but I have some Dorcas work here, which will make me forget I have a head, I hope."
"Then you will be rewarded; au revoir, dear."
"And now for the tree of knowledge," said Mrs. Dale.
After visiting the Wellesley and other city schools, the Church School for boys, the Collegiate Institute, Jarvis Street, and the Upper Canada College, they decided to place him at the latter, principally on account of the boarding school; they being, at present, unsettled as to their future plans.
"Your city schools are admirable, and were we actual residents, housekeeping, I should ask nothing better for my boy. Some of your finest public men, I am told, Mrs. Gower, have sat at those desks."
"Yes, so I have always heard; but I think, in Garfield's case, you have acted wisely. A boy coming from school to hotel life, has every incentive not to study."
"Yes, that's just it. At the U. C. College, the example will be there in the other boys at their books, and I consider it a great boon to be able to place him under such management. The masters are talented gentlemen; and if a boy does not make something of himself under such guidance, mentally, morally and physically, then he must be made of very poor stuff, indeed."
"Garfield, dear," said his mother, "you will have to be as starched as a Swiss laundry, minding your p's and q's, like an Englishman."
"Oh, yes, I know; but they are the stuff, mamma. You see they give a fellow cricket, and drill, as well as book knowledge."
"Yes, they are wise; you will study all the better. See that you make a man of yourself while there," said his father.
"I shall never forget my goal, papa."
"And what is that?"
"To be President Dale, of the United States of America; and I reckon, when I run, my opponents won't have any dirty stories to rake up about me, for I'm going to begin right now."
"But they frequently coin falsehoods. What would you do in that case?"
"Put mamma on their trail; have 'em up, and make 'em swallow or prove them."
"All right, my ten-year-old; mother will be your right hand man," she said, endearingly.
"I expect the lies men have to face in the arena of public life are their worst foes," said Mrs. Gower. "Beecher said, 'If the lies told about public men could be materialized, they would roof in and cover over the whole earth.'"
"He spoke feelingly," said Mr. Dale; "Dames Rumor and Grundy, with the newspapers, had him in a tight place."
"Shall we go on further, Henry, and purchase the mattress, etc., for Garfield?"
"No, I think not, Ella; I have to meet Dickson, from New York, at the Walker House, at six; can't you come in the morning, dear?"
"Oh, yes."
"Do you dine with your friend, Mr. Dale?"
"Yes; so we arranged."
"Then you come back with me, Ella, and this wee man, of course?"
"Yes, if we don't weary you."
"You know better, dear. Oh, Mr. Dale, will you kindly go into Mr. Smyth's office, and say we find it impossible to go over this evening, but will to-morrow—sans ceremonie, if agreeable."
"Consider your commission executed, dear Mrs. Gower. I shall drive up for you, Ella, this evening some time; au revoir," and, lifting his hat, he is gone.
After a delightful walk through the busy streets, from the Upper Canada College, by way of King Street West, thence north to Holmnest, they find Miss Crew a little quieter, perhaps, but apparently quite recovered from her recent swoon. Putting aside her Dorcas work, the three ladies sit in the firelight and gloaming, to chat until dinner hour.
"I regret you were not with us, Miss Crew; the schools would have interested you," said Mrs. Dale.
"Yes, I am sorry, too; for ever since our arrival I have heard so much in praise of the city schools, especially."
"Their praise is ever in our mouth," said Mrs. Gower; "but my views on the subject are somewhat contradictory. Though going with the progress of the age, I don't feel quite sure that this mixing up of the children of the rich and poor is to the ultimate good of either."
"Oh, I think it's better, Elaine, to bundle them all in together."
"I don't know, Ella; the Industrial School system recommends itself very much to me for the poorer classes, among whom, if there is any originality, it will out."
After dinner, to which Mr. Cobbe, coming in as it was announced, made one at, Miss Crew, not feeling quite herself, begging to be excused, retired to her room, and Garfield into the arms of Morpheus on the lounge; when, during a temporary absence of Mrs. Dale, Mr. Cobbe said, quickly, while laying a hand on either shoulder of his hostess:
"What do you have that woman here all the time for? If she is going to spend the evening, I shall go."
"Were I Mrs. Ruggles, of Pickwick fame, I should object to my friend being called a woman," she said, half jokingly; "as it is, I——"
At this moment some pebbles were thrown against the window, cracking the glass. Mrs. Dale, now returning, said:
"What! is it the window fired at? Things are coming to a pretty pass," she said, with latent meaning; "We should have closed the shutters; don't, Elaine, I shall do it."
"I had better go out and frighten away the tramps," said Cobbe, his face flushing with angry impatience.
"Yes, Philip; if you will be so kind."
"You are a gentlemanly man, and a good looking one, Mr. Cobbe; but I don't love you," said Mrs. Dale, emphatically, shaking her clenched fist after his retreating form.
Mrs. Gower could not but smile at her little friend's vehemence, as she played with the bracelets on her shapely arms, her head bent in thought.
"Thomas is a good servant, Elaine; he has just fastened the hall door on the heels of Monsieur Cobbe; and now, ma chere, this is the time and place for confidence," she said, earnestly, while laying her jewelled fingers on her friend's brown locks.