The Merivale banks

by Mary Jane Holmes

No mention was made of the Lansings, and Louie did not know they were abroad. Occasionally a thought of Fred crossed her mind with a feeling that in some way he would have stood by her as Herbert had not done. But she resolutely put such thoughts aside as a wrong to Herbert. She was no longer bound to him, and she was glad; but sometimes in the night, when she was too tired and anxious to sleep, there would come over her a feeling of desolation which made her heart ache for the love she had put from her, and which at times had made her very happy. Then she would rally and say, “It is better so; a great deal better,” and be herself again.

She did not see Herbert after her talk with him until just before he went back to college in the autumn. He had been to the Adirondacks, with some of his classmates and their sisters,—girls with big hats and tailor gowns, who were up-to-date in every way, and while rambling and climbing and hunting among the mountains and lakes he began to find that life might be tolerably endurable without Louie. There had been full accounts of the failure in the papers, and he had heard it discussed many times, and Mr. Grey spoken of as a man who deserved the weight of the law, if he did not get it. His companions knew nothing of his former relations with Louie, nor did he enlighten them, and he was conscious of a feeling of relief that the Greys were nothing to him.

“If Louie were all alone it would be different,” he thought, “and I would not give her up, but I cannot take the family.”

He went to see her on his return from the Adirondacks, and just before he left for Yale. He had a little time to wait, and as he glanced around the elegantly furnished room he wondered how long the family could stay there, and where they would go when obliged to leave. His father had wondered so, too; and as the house in White’s Row was still vacant, and his generous fit still on him, he had said to Herbert, in speaking of the Greys:

“Yes, sir. They’ve done the fair thing, or the girl has, for she is boss and all hands. Her mother don’t amount to shucks! They’ve sold their diamonds and paid debts, and sold their horses and carriage, and, Lord Harry, who do you s’pose has bought ’em, the horses and carriage, I mean: Godfrey Sheldon! Yes, sir! Godfrey Sheldon! Rides round town with his girls, big as life; and, if you’ll b’lieve it, has got the Grey coachman, too, and his clothes! Think of it! I stripped Dave quicker than wink! It was bad enough to have Tom Grey in livery, but Godfrey Sheldon! Lord Harry! What a farce! I wonder he didn’t buy the diamonds and have his wife and girls flaunt ’em morning, noon and night as they would! They don’t know any better! Why, your mother won’t wear hers except it’s something swell like our party! I hear their house is sold, or going to be, and they’ll have to leave, and I’ll tell you what I’ve thought of doing as a kind of recompense for what the Grey girl did for us. I hain’t forgot it. No, sir! I didn’t send that bellus thing, you made such a row, and now how would it do to offer them, rent free, the house in White’s Row where they used to live? It is empty and has been for quite a spell. I’d paper some of the rooms. You always have to with new tenants!”

“I think it would be an insult!” Herbert answered hotly, expressing himself so fully on the subject that his father gave up his magnanimous intentions with regard to the tenement in White’s Row.

Herbert was thinking of this and what a change it would be for the family when Louie came in, looking so hollow-eyed and worn that he could scarcely suppress a cry of dismay as he arose to meet her.

“Louie! Louie! Poor little Louie!” he said, and his chin quivered, while Louie broke down entirely and cried for a moment as Herbert had never seen any one cry before.

Then she brushed her tears away, and, smiling up at him, said, “I did not mean to give way like this, but the sight of you brought the old happy times back, before I knew what sorrow was; and father is bad this morning, and mother, too, and everything is so changed; but I am glad to see you. I knew you would come.”

She tried to seem natural and asked him of his trip, and how soon he was going back to college, and told how kind everybody was to her, from Nancy Sharp, who, now that all their old servants had gone and they had only a young girl, was their mainstay in the kitchen. The house was sold at last she said, to a stranger, whose name she didn’t know.