All this had likewise been told to Anna, the youngest daughter, who was about ’Lena’s age, but upon her it made no impression. If her father was once poor, he was in her opinion none the worse for that—and if he liked his parents, that was a sufficient reason why she should like them too, and if little ’Lena was an orphan, she pitied her, and hoped she might sometime see her and tell her so! Thus Anna reasoned, while her mother, terribly shocked at her low-bred taste, strove to instill into her mind some of her own more aristocratic notions. But all in vain, for Anna was purely democratic, loving everybody and beloved by everybody in return. It is true she had no particular liking for books or study of any kind, but she was gentle and affectionate in her manner, and kindly considerate of other people’s feelings. With her father she was a favorite, and to her he always looked for sympathy, which she seldom failed to give—not in words, it is true, but whenever he seemed to be in trouble, she would climb into his lap, wind her arms around his neck, and laying her golden head upon his shoulder, would sit thus until his brow and heart grew lighter as he felt there was yet something in the wide world which loved and cared for him.
For Carrie Mrs. Livingstone had great expectations, but Anna she feared would never make a “brilliant match.” For a long time Anna meditated upon this, wondering what a “brilliant match” could mean, and at last she determined to seek an explanation from Captain Atherton, a bachelor and a millionaire, who was in the habit of visiting them, and who always noticed and petted her more than he did Carrie. Accordingly, the next time he came, and they were alone in the parlor, she broached the subject, asking him what it meant.
Laughing loudly, the Captain drew her toward him, saying, “Why, marrying rich, you little novice. For instance, if one of these days you should be my little wife, I dare say your mother would think you had made a brilliant match!” and the well-preserved gentleman of forty glanced complacently at himself in the mirror thinking how probable it was that his youthfulness would be unimpaired for at least ten years to come!
Anna laughed, for to her his words then conveyed no serious meaning, but with more than her usual quickness she replied, that “she would as soon marry her grandfather.”
With Mrs. Livingstone the reader is partially acquainted. In her youth she had been pretty, and now at thirty-eight she was not without pretensions to beauty, notwithstanding her sallow complexion and sunken eyes, Her hair, which was very abundant, was bright and glossy, and her mouth, in which the dentist had done his best, would have been handsome, had it not been for a certain draw at the corners, which gave it a scornful and rather disagreeable expression. In her disposition she was overbearing and tyrannical, fond of ruling, and deeming her husband a monster of ingratitude if ever in any way he manifested a spirit of rebellion. Didn’t she marry him? and now they were married, didn’t her money support him? And wasn’t it exceedingly amiable in her always to speak of their children as ours! But as for the rest, ’twas my house, my servants, my carriage, and my horses. All mine—“Mrs. John Livingstone’s—Miss Matilda Richards that was!”
Occasionally, however, her husband’s spirit was roused, and then, after a series of tears, sick-headaches, and then spasms, “Miss Matilda Richards that Was” was compelled to yield her face for many days wearing the look of a much-injured, heart-broken woman. Still her influence over him was great, else she had never so effectually weakened every tie which bound him to his native home, making him ashamed of his parents and of everything pertaining to them. When her husband first wrote, to her that his father was dead and that he had promised to take charge of his mother and ’Lena, she flew into a violent rage, which was increased ten-fold when she received his second letter, wherein he announced his intention of bringing them home in spite of her. Bursting into tears she declared “she’d leave the house before she’d have it filled up with a lot of paupers. Who did John Nichols think he was, and who did he think she was! Besides that, where was he going to put them? for there wasn’t a place for them that she knew of!”
“Why, mother,” said Anna who was pleased with the prospect of a new grandmother and cousin, “Why, mother, what a story. There’s the two big chambers and bedrooms, besides the one next to Carrie’s and mine. Oh, do put them in there. It’ll be so nice to have grandma and cousin ’Lena so near me.”
“Anna Livingstone!” returned the indignant lady, “Never let me hear you say grandma and cousin again.”
“But they be grandma and cousin,” persisted Anna, while her mother commenced lamenting the circumstance which had made them so, wishing, as she had often done before, that she had never married John Nichols.
“I reckon you are not the only one that wishes so,” slyly whispered John Jr., who was a witness to her emotion.