The curse of gold

by Ann S. Stephens

Catharine did not observe it at first, but Mrs. Barr had been failing for more than a year. A life of constant exertion began to tell upon her, and she was at last clearly admonished that her days of usefulness were drawing to a close. She said little about this, until increasing weakness forced her to relinquish some of her duties; not that the subject troubled her, but her noble heart shrunk from giving the pain which the mournful truth must inflict on her best friend and almost daughter.

One night there was a dance in the dining-room of the Asylum; for it was a part of Mrs. Barr’s new system, that amusements of all kinds, which could inspire wholesome pleasure, were the best means of restoration in almost every case of insanity. It was understood that all the usual preparations for a ball were to be insisted upon, and no set of school-children ever exhibited more interest in an exhibition, than these unfortunates took in their toilets.

Elsie was unusually excited; a dozen times that day she swept through the halls in search of Catharine, first in one dress, then in another, each more fantastic than the rest, yet all arranged with artistic effect, as if she had been intending to sit for a portrait. Other inmates were on the alert, and it was wonderful to see how much of absolute reason mingled with their fantasies. One young creature, fancying that she was Queen Elizabeth and about to hold court, was in great tribulation, because her crown had been torn to pieces and the jewels lost. Another, who fancied herself Charlotte Corday, took Catharine on one side, to consult with her about the possibility of washing the blood from her hands. There was no end to their perplexities or various ways of expressing them.

One poor creature, who fancied that she had killed her husband, insisted on wearing a mask, that the officers might not discover her. But the greater number, being monomaniacs upon some given point, understood the nature of the amusement offered them, and acted with great decorum, enjoying the fantasies of their companions as a sane person might.

Catharine was very busy that day. Mrs. Barr had admitted for the first time that she was not quite well enough to help, and this imposed a host of duties on her assistant. The dancing-room was to be decorated with garlands, on which the inmates worked with enthusiasm. Supper was to be prepared—in fact, Catharine required all the administrative talent she possessed to carry the affair through with credit. It was a first experiment of the kind; and in the absence of Mrs. Barr she felt the responsibility even to nervousness.

At nightfall the inmates of the house began to assemble; they all seemed to understand that perfectly good behavior was expected of them; and their efforts at superior and extra politeness were touching, and at times ludicrous.

There was no regular music, but Catharine had become a fair performer, and she at once placed herself at the piano; and, trusting to her ear, dashed into the most exhilarating music she was capable of.

Directly, a singular and most picturesque scene presented itself. Each inmate had satisfied his or her own fancy in the way of costume, and in some cases the effect was richly fanciful. Among the rest, Elsie came in dressed after a fashion that had prevailed twenty years before; even in her insanity the exquisite taste for which she had been remarkable in her youth manifested itself. She might have stepped out of some old family picture—the costume was so perfect both in arrangement and coloring.

Catharine, happy in the enjoyment of those around her, was playing with unusual spirit, when Elsie came into the room. She stood awhile by the door watching the dancers; then, as if something displeased her in the music, she crossed over to the piano, touched Catharine on the shoulder, and made a motion that she should get up from the music-stool.

Catharine obeyed, and Elsie, sweeping out her skirts with a queenly gesture, seated herself, and dashed into an old-fashioned dancing-tune that made the room ring again. At first, her touch was a little heavy and stiff, but after awhile those slender fingers flashed across the keys like lightning. The usually sad face became brilliant, and, with a bend of the head that a queen might have envied, that demented woman brought another beautiful talent out of the past, proudly as a child exhibits its most gorgeous plaything.