CHAPTER XXII.
DR. DRAYTON'S HOUSE-KEEPER.
"Mrs. Berkley, I'm in a dilemma," said Dr. Drayton, as he entered the library one morning where that lady was sitting, and took a chair near her.
"Can I help you out of it?"
"If you can't, I don't know of any one else to go to," said Dr. Drayton, who had become a daily visitor at the Berkleys'. "I have bought a house, and now I want a house-keeper. Even if I felt inclined to brave the opinion of Mrs. Grundy, and settle down with Rachel at the head of my establishment, I would not do it; she is too young to have so much care on her shoulders; I want the rest of her life to be as bright and happy as it is possible for me to make it. My idea is to get some cultivated, refined, middle-aged lady to come and take the care of the house-keeping, and be a person who would make it pleasant for Rachel, and any young friends she might wish to have with her. But how can I get such a person? I answered two advertisements last week, and had interviews with the females themselves at the Tremont House. One of them was old and thin, and had a sharp voice that sent a chill through me every time she spoke,—would be about as cheerful a member of society as an animated skeleton; the other fair, fat, and forty, but an incessant talker, and looked as if she had not brushed her hair for a week. Now, Mrs. Berkley, what shall I do? Here I am, a poor, forlorn bachelor, who throws himself on your hands. You must help me somehow or other."
"Well, the best thing I can advise," replied Mrs. Berkley, with an amused smile, "is for you to cease to be a bachelor."
Dr. Drayton shrugged his shoulders. "Impossible, madame!"
"And why, I should like to know? You certainly are not bad-looking; your name is quite surrounded by a fast-increasing halo of fame,—something which is always attractive to the young ladies, you know,—and, what would be above all to many, you have money."
"Exactly," replied Dr. Drayton, with considerable energy. "When I first settled down in Berlin, through some very influential friends the very first society of the place was open to me, and I found myself the recipient of marked attention from the heads of several families. I was delighted with them. Such cordiality! such hospitality! I really felt proud of myself for calling it forth, for then I was young, and the little halo which you speak of had not shed its benign influence over me; of course it was to my personal attractions, and nothing else, I owed my popularity. I happened to speak to a young American friend of mine, of the attentions I was constantly receiving,—invitations to this, that, and the other house, and wondered why it was he was not equally fortunate. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'don't you know I haven't got any money?' His answer was certainly a damper to my feelings; but it was a good thing for me. I gave less time to balls and parties, and more to my profession; gradually, as I showed myself less and less in society, I received fewer invitations, and those from gentlemen all having marriageable daughters. No, Mrs. Berkley, don't ask me to get married; at least not at present. I don't know anything about American girls; but I suppose they are all very much the same as other young ladies, and not until I can find one who will love me for myself, and not my money, will there ever be a Mrs. Drayton at the head of my table."
"That is certainly a good resolution," replied Mrs. Berkley, laughing; "but I am afraid I could find you a wife much easier than a house-keeper, such as you want. Of course you will want to put your house in order, and furnish it; meanwhile we are delighted to keep Rachel with us."
"You are very kind, very kind indeed, and I certainly shall benefit myself by your offer, for I don't like the idea of taking her to a hotel. But you haven't asked me where my house is."
"Sure enough," replied Mrs. Berkley; "but my mind has been too full of your house-keeper to think of your house. Where is it?"
"That house on the corner of Beacon Street and the street just below here, I can't recall the name."
"The free-stone house we noticed for sale the other day?" inquired Mrs. Berkley.
"Yes, that is the one. It is larger than I really need; but the arrangement of the ground-floor suits me admirably, for I must have an office."
"Then you intend to practise?"
"Certainly, I should be ashamed of myself if I gave up my profession; but I do not intend to do anything out of office-hours, so it will not confine me at all. I intend to take the entire charge of Rachel's property until she is of age; meanwhile I want to give her a clear idea of the value of money, so that she may be able to make a good use of her immense fortune."
"I will look about me," said Mrs. Berkley, "and if I hear of any lady that I think will suit you in every way, I will let you know; but here come the girls; they have been out to see Florence Stevenson."
Rachel was delighted with the house her uncle had bought, for it was only a few moments' walk from Mr. Berkley's, and she would be able to be with Marion every day. The two girls commenced making plans for the winter, Rachel deciding that the first thing she would do, when they got into their new house, would be to have Florence in for a long visit.
A few days after the conversation between Mrs. Berkley and Dr. Drayton, Mr. Berkley received a letter from a distant cousin of his, a lonely widow, who having lost her property, had written to him to see if he could get her a situation as house-keeper in some refined family. Upon showing this letter to his wife, she at once exclaimed that the lady was the very person for Dr. Drayton.
The necessary arrangements were soon made; the house was put in perfect order, and elegantly furnished; and Dr. Drayton took his niece to as delightful a home as one could wish to have, for Mrs. Marston proved to be all that he desired. Cultivated and agreeable, she soon won his heartfelt esteem, and Rachel loved her from their very first meeting.
After the new household had got fairly settled, Dr. Drayton proposed to Rachel that she should continue her German and French under his direction. He spoke both languages as fluently as he did English, and suggested that the lessons should consist entirely of conversation, and reading aloud from some of the best French and German authors. Rachel was very much pleased at his proposition, and asked if Marion might not join with them.
"Yes, if she likes," replied Dr. Drayton, in answer to her request; "but I'm afraid her head will be too full of balls and parties, for her to ever keep up a regular course of studies."
"Why, Uncle Robert!" indignantly cried Rachel; "you don't know Marion at all, or you would not say that!"
"I don't pretend to," quietly replied the doctor; "but I suppose she is very much like all other young ladies."
"Indeed she is not," replied Rachel, energetically. "I don't know of a girl that has as much strength of character as Marion."
"Not even excepting Miss Florence?"
"No, not even excepting her. I love Florence dearly; she is a lovely girl, but there is something about Marion which she has not got."
"I should say so, decidedly," replied Dr. Drayton, with provoking coolness.
"Why, Uncle Robert, I never dreamed you didn't like Marion!"
"Did I say I did not?" asked her uncle, as he unfolded the newspaper, and glanced down its columns.
"No, you didn't say exactly those words, but you implied it."
"I was not aware of the fact," said the doctor, as he lighted his cigar. "You said there was something about her different from Florence, and I agreed with you. I suppose, with feminine perversity, you would have preferred that I should have disagreed, thus giving you an opportunity to make an argument in favor of your side of the question; next time I'll remember."
"Uncle Robert, you are perfectly provoking!" exclaimed Rachel, jumping up, and taking the paper away from him; "there!—you shan't have it until you've said something in Marion's favor."
"Very well," replied her uncle, slightly raising his eyebrows; "you enumerate the catalogue of her virtues, and I'll subscribe to all I can."
"In the first place, she's very handsome," commenced Rachel.
"Well, no, not exactly what I call handsome," said the doctor in a deliberating tone; "she's not large enough for that."
"Beautiful then; that's better still."
"Well, yes,—I suppose you think so."
"But it isn't to be what I think," impatiently replied Rachel. "You certainly must acknowledge she has beautiful eyes; true as steel; the kind of eyes you could trust!"
"I'll examine them the next time I see her," replied Dr. Drayton, as he laid back in his chair, and puffed a cloud of smoke into the air. "Excellence No. 3, if you please, Rachel."
"She's very intelligent, and an excellent scholar," replied Rachel, tapping the floor with her foot, and trying not to get provoked.
"As yet I have never had any conversation with her of any deeper import than the shade of your window-curtains; but I've no doubt she's at home with any subject, and is a perfect walking 'Encyclopædia Americana.'"
"Uncle Robert, you are incorrigible! you are determined not to see any good in her."
"Not at all, my dear; the difficulty is, that after a six weeks' acquaintance, you expect me to be as enthusiastic over her as you are after a lengthy school-girl intimacy."
"I know what you mean to insinuate by a 'school-girl intimacy,' and I agree with you that as a general thing they don't amount to anything; but just let me tell you what Marion did for me, and then see if you'll wonder that I'm 'enthusiastic' over her."
"Go on; I am prepared for anything. I suppose she rescued you from a 'watery grave' in true novel fashion."
"She did more than that; she risked finding one herself. She walked all alone, at midnight, from our school to the doctor's house, which is at least a mile and a half, and crossed the river on a bridge that the flooring was taken off, and nothing for her to walk on but the beam where the railing was!"
"A heroine, as I live!" cried the doctor, holding up both hands; "something of which I've always had an innate horror."
"Uncle Robert," said Rachel, really hurt, "I thought after that you'd at least show some regard for her, if only for my sake."
"My dear girl," he replied, drawing her towards him, "I certainly will acknowledge that it was very brave in her; now give me my newspaper."
"You don't deserve it, but you shall have it, if you will let Marion join our lessons."
"I should be delighted to have her; and Miss Florence too."
"Florence won't be able to give her time to it, I know. She can't come to make me a visit until spring, for she was away all summer, and her father can't spare her yet."
"Very well; you arrange everything with Mrs. Berkley; only the time must not interfere with office-hours; before or after that I am at your service."
"You're the dearest uncle in the world!" exclaimed Rachel, kissing him.
"Even if I don't worship your heroine."
"Oh, don't call her a heroine, for mercy's sake! and above all don't ever let her know that I told you."
"My lips shall be sealed on the subject. Now run off, and let me read my paper in peace."
Marion was very much pleased with the plan for the French and German lessons, and it was arranged that they should devote two hours, twice a week, to each language, meeting alternately at Marion's and Rachel's houses. Marion was a very good French scholar, and could manage to make herself understood in German; but she was really afraid of Dr. Drayton, and never did herself justice at the lessons. He was very patient and kind, but nevertheless very critical, and corrected the pronunciation of their German so many times, that Marion at last declared she never would say another word, for she knew she never could suit him; but she found him even more determined than M. Béranger, and soon learned, that if the lessons went on at all, his directions must be strictly attended to; and after a while the girls never thought of speaking English, during their French and German hours. Mr. Berkley, who happened to look in upon them one day when they were carrying on quite an excited argument, declared they were all jabbering just to hear themselves talk, for he knew perfectly well they couldn't any one of them understand a word the others were saying.
The intimacy between the two families increased daily, and the Berkleys welcomed Dr. Drayton most cordially to their family circle, finding him in every way a most delightful companion. Intelligent, cultivated, and refined, and having travelled over almost every country in Europe, he had the rare gift of describing everything he had seen in such a manner as to bring it vividly before the minds of his hearers, without incessantly introducing the personal pronoun, which, as a general thing, finds its way so often into a traveller's account of his journeyings.
He became a general favorite with the family. Charley always ran to meet him, and commenced a raid upon his pockets, sure of finding something stowed away there for his especial benefit; the baby crowed with delight whenever he came near him; and Fred bestowed upon him, after their first meeting, the highest compliment he could pay a man,—"he was a regular brick!" But Marion declared "she thought they made altogether too much fuss over him, and she did not intend to join with the family in setting him up as a perfect hero; she must say she thought he was rather conceited, for he never paid her any attention, and when young people were there, and they were all having a nice time in the parlor, he always sat off with papa and mamma, in the library, as if he thought himself above such childish follies."