Mark Gildersleeve: A Novel

by John S. Sauzade

"Who suggested the name of your Works, Mr. Gildersleeve?" said Edna.

"Oh! that was Mark's notion. When we rebuilt them, I wanted to name them the George Washington Works, but I concluded that that would be too personal, so I let Mark have his own way, and he named them after Archy Medes. This Archy Medes was an engineer of ancient times, who discovered something in a bath-tub, I don't exactly remember what, but Mark can tell you if you want to know. There he is over there. See him, Miss Heath?"

They were in the finishing-shop at the time, and George pointed to the farther end, where Mark was, but with his back towards them so that Edna had not recognized the young man. He was standing with his coat off and a plan in his hand, giving directions to a group of workmen.

"He's setting up an improved lathe for driving wheels—a new idea of his own," explained George.

Edna stood watching Mark. He was very intently occupied moving hither and thither, now stooping and scrutinizing, then, with rolled-up sleeves, dexterously wielding hammer and chisel. His dark, delicate features reflected the keen concentrated play of the faculties, and revealed an expression of intellectual beauty that Edna had not before noticed. She thought she had never seen so handsome a young man. Mark unconsciously had made a more favorable impression in his homely guise than he ever could have done in a ball-room. At length he perceived her, and could not repress a look of confusion. Giving a few orders to the workmen, he drew on his coat and came forward to meet Edna with an embarrassed air.

"An unexpected pleasure, Miss Heath," he said, with a feeble attempt to be distant in accordance with the noble resolves he had recorded.

"The pleasure is with me, I'm certain, for I've been very much delighted and instructed. I know all about locomotives, and steam, and boilers, and I am indebted for it all to your brother, who was kind enough to invite me to see the Works, and explain everything. But I am very much afraid that I have interrupted you."

"A very pleasant interruption; for it's so seldom we are favored with the presence of ladies here, that we appreciate their visits correspondingly," replied Mark gallantly. Her pleasant, winning way had disarmed him completely, and he was at her mercy at once. Edna then bid the brothers good-by, remarking that she had tarried too long and must return home.

Of course Mark begged to be permitted to escort her, as evening was approaching, to which request she graciously assented. The most attractive trait, perhaps, in our heroine's character was her frankness of speech and manner proceeding from a nature singularly free from affectation. We say singularly, as it is well known that the best of our young ladies are not entirely exempt from little artificial airs and graces especially, if like the subject of these remarks, they occupy a position in society somewhat analogous to that of a duke's daughter among gentry. This artlessness was the more remarkable in the child of a family noted for its intense pride and pretensions. Edna was the exception; simple in her tastes, and ignoring the deference conceded to wealth to an extent that would have amazed her father, could he have spared enough attention from state affairs to study his daughter's character. Naturally, when a young lady of position remains unimpressed by people's purses, and is as courteous to the poor as to the rich, she cannot fail to become a favorite with all; and it is no wonder that the master of the Archimedes Works remarked to Gregg, the old book-keeper, after she was gone, that if he were a young man seeking a wife, she'd be just the girl he'd pick out, and that Gregg said she would be his choice too; nor that Knatchbull, the foreman, concurred, and added, that she was a "natty lass," to which George said, "That's so, and thorough-bred," and told Gregg to make a minute to remind him to send one of his "carts," a three-quarter face, to the young lady, as he had promised, and wouldn't disappoint her for the world.

Meanwhile Mark and Edna were walking on in silence towards the street that led to the latter's home; Mark, in his elation, scarcely knowing how to broach the conversation. Finally he recollected that it would be in order to thank Edna for the invitation she had sent him, and he did so, expressing his great regret at not having been able to avail himself of it, and his appreciation of the intended compliment.