"He was not. I went to see Maude," J.C. replied somewhat stiffly, for he began to see the drift of her remarks.
Mrs. Kelsey hesitated a moment, and then proceeded to say that "J.C. ought not to pay Miss Remington much attention, as she was very susceptible and might fancy him in earnest."
"And suppose she does?" said J.C., determining to brave the worst. "Suppose she does?"
Mrs. Kelsey was very uncomfortable, and coughing a little she replied, "It is wrong to raise hopes which cannot be realized, for of course you have never entertained a serious thought of a low country girl like Maude Remington."
There had been a time when a remark like this from the fashionable Mrs. Kelsey would have banished any girl from J.C.'s mind, for he was rather dependent on the opinion of others, but it made no difference now, and, warming up in Maude's defense, he replied, "I assure you, madam, I have entertained serious thoughts toward Miss Remington, and have this day asked her to be my wife."
"Your wife!" almost screamed the high-bred Mrs. Kelsey. "What will your city friends—What will Nellie say?"
"Confound them all, I don't care what they, say," and J.C. drove his knife-blade into the pine table, while he gave his reasons for having chosen Maude in preference to Nellie, or anyone else he had ever seen. "There's something to her," said he, "and with her for my wife I shall make a decent man. What would Nellie and I do together—when neither of us know anything—about business, I mean," he added, while Mrs. Kelsey rejoined, "I always intended that you would live with me, and I had that handsome suite of rooms arranged expressly for Nellie and her future husband. I have no children, and my niece will inherit my property."
This, under some circumstances, would have strongly tempted the young man; nay, it might perchance have tempted him then, had not the deep tones of the organ at that moment have reached his ear. It was the night when Maude usually rehearsed for the coming Sabbath, and soon after her interview with her sister she had gone to the church where she sought to soothe her ruffled spirits by playing a most plaintive air. The music was singularly soft and sweet, and the heart of J.C. De Vere trembled to the sound, for he knew it was Maude who played—Maude, who out-weighed the tempting bait which Mrs. Kelsey offered, and with a magnanimity quite astonishing to himself he answered, "Poverty with Maude, rather than riches with another!"
"Be it so, then," was Mrs. Kelsey's curt reply, "but when in the city you blush at your bride's awkwardness don't expect me to lend a helping hand, for Maude Remington cannot by me be recognized as an equal," and the proud lady swept from the room, wearing a deeply injured look, as if she herself had been refused instead of her niece.
"Let me off easier than I supposed," muttered J.C., as he watched her cross the street and enter Dr. Kennedy's gate. "It will be mighty mean, though, if she does array herself against my wife, for Madam Kelsey is quoted everywhere, and even Mrs. Lane, who lives just opposite, dare not open her parlor blinds until assured by ocular demonstration that Mrs. Kelsey's are open too. Oh, fashion, fashion, what fools you make of your votaries! I am glad that I for one dare break your chain and marry whom I please," and feeling more amiably disposed toward J.C. De Vere than he had felt for many a day, the young man started for the church, where to his great joy he found Maude alone.