“No,” said Mrs. Forest, with the persistence of a child, “I want you with me,” and she added, reproachfully, “Is it a sacrifice?” thus forcing Clara to say what was not strictly true—“Certainly not, mamma dear. I will go with you.”
Long into the night Mrs. Forest talked earnestly to her daughter. Clara was shocked, as any romantic young girl would be, having the case presented in its worst light—disgusted, indeed—but she was much too severe upon Dan to please her mother. Clara was her father’s own girl, as Mrs. Forest knew, and her heart was naturally inclined to pity Susie, and she said to her mother in extenuation, “She is so young, you know, and without any education, or she would know she could never win a lover in that way.” This was a sign of wisdom that pleased Mrs. Forest.
“My daughter, I am sure,” she said, “would never be in danger of forwardness and immodesty with gentlemen; and I will say here, my dear, that much being alone with gentlemen before marriage, is very injudicious, for the most honorable of them will take advantage of such confidence.”
Clara was rather inclined to believe this, recalling certain passages on the veranda that evening, but she was very silent on that subject. Mrs. Forest returned to the subject of Susie, and labored to show the importance of having her out of the house as soon as possible. “Your father is so unreasonable. I really believe he thinks it our duty to have her here. Why, I should die of shame to have the Delanos know it. What would they think?”
“We must do right, mamma, whatever people think.”
“Yes, yes; but we can do right in a prudent way, and there is so much at stake. Dr. Delano asked your father’s permission to address you only to-day.” Clara knew this fact, but it was very agreeable to have a second account of it. “Your father is so unlike the rest of the world. I was shocked at his answer. Instead of thanking Dr. Delano for the honor, as would have been the proper way, he answered brusquely, ‘Bless my soul! Delano, it’s none of my business. I don’t see what the girl can want with your ridiculous addresses, but that is her affair. You know I advocate woman’s rights, and that includes her right to make a fool of herself;’ and he actually laughed.” Clara asked anxiously how Dr. Delano received it—that was the all-important part to her.
“Oh, he took it exceedingly well, I am glad to say. He held out his hand to your father, and thanked him in a very gentlemanly style.”
“Did papa say any more?”
“Such a lot of nonsense! He said he had brought you up to be independent. For my part, I think an independent girl dreadful. He said he had told you what rascally dogs men were, and if this was the result of his warning, why he must submit. You cannot imagine how mortified I was. Your father was called away then, and I apologized to Dr. Delano for his manner.”
“Why, mamma! the idea of apologizing for papa’s manner. I should not think of doing Dr. Delano the injustice of supposing he could not understand and appreciate my father. He speaks of him in a way that charms me.”