The Merivale banks

by Mary Jane Holmes

“Consult your father and mother. I will see them another time, and remember, it is to be at my own expense. You will be my companion,” she said at last, as she arose to go.

She had done the most of the talking, leaving Fred and Herbert quite out of the question; but the latter bided his time, knowing he should have a chance to express his opinion of Paris and Marchesi after the lady and Fred were gone. Fred was in no hurry to leave, but as he came with Miss Percy, he felt obliged to go when she did, and rather reluctantly said good-by, and left the field to Herbert, who began to air his opinion of the stage rather hotly and of Miss Percy meddling with what didn’t concern her. Foreign travel would be a good education in many respects, he said, and help to fit Louie for the position she would occupy as his wife, and on that account he would like to have her go abroad with Miss Percy, who knew a great many nice people both in London, Paris and Geneva, but he would not have her sing in public, and it would come to that if Miss Percy had her way. As it was, his father would be angry enough when he heard of the engagement, and if the stage were added, it might mean disinheritance. Then, what would they do? Stay in hum-drum Merivale and work for a living, he a clerk in her father’s bank, perhaps, and she on the road half the time with a troupe, leaving him to be spoken of, if he were mentioned at all, as Mrs. White’s husband; if, indeed, she did not take a stage name, and his identity be lost entirely. A good deal more he said of the same nature, with sundry suggestions with regard to Louie’s conduct as his promised wife, until she began to think that being engaged was not the state of bliss she had fancied it might be.

From a joking, teasing boy, Herbert seemed to have changed suddenly into an exacting master, who was to exercise his will over all her actions, while he was to be as free as ever. She was not to receive the attentions of any young man, but maintain a dignified reserve towards them all. They might think her proud, but no matter. When she was his wife they would understand. As to Paris and Marchesi, they were not to be thought of. She must go to some finishing school either in Boston or New York. He would himself make some inquiries as to where it was better for her to go.

For a time Louie listened in silence, but as Herbert’s restrictions continued, her temper got the ascendant, and a smart quarrel ensued, which threatened to end affairs between them. Louie said they were ended, and she would do as she pleased. She was not a child to be dictated to in that way. If she chose to be civil to a young man she should do so. She should not shut herself up like a nun, while he was having his freedom. As to the stage, she did not believe Miss Percy had thought of such a thing in connection with her going abroad. For herself—she certainly had no desire, but if she had, she would sing on a hundred stages if she chose.

Then Herbert grew angry, and told her to sing and make a spectacle of herself if she wanted to, but he hoped she would remember what she was giving up, when she threw him over, with all he could do for her and the position he could give her.

To this Louie retorted that she did not think him of as much consequence as he thought himself. She considered a daughter of Thomas Grey quite as good as a son of Robert White, and others thought so, too. He needn’t trouble himself to look up a finishing school for her. If she cared to go to one, her father was capable of finding it.

And so, boy- and girl-like, they quarrelled on until Herbert’s love triumphed over every other feeling, and the quarrel was made up as such quarrels usually are, each taking upon himself the most blame. Louie, however, held out the longest. Her pride was sorely wounded. She resented Herbert’s assumption of superiority over her and her family, and refused for a long time to listen to his conciliatory words. But he prevailed at last, and peace was restored. Herbert had called her a little cat during the quarrel, but she was a kitten now, gentle, purring and submissive, and he left her at last, in a very complacent state of mind, thinking as he walked home that he had commenced right, that though he had quarrelled, he had conquered, as he ought to do; that the man should be the master, and if he didn’t assert himself on the start, Louie, who was a little hot-headed, would get the upperhand, which would never do, and he a White.

Three days after this the Lansings left Merivale, but not until Miss Percy had seen Louie again with regard to her voice, and had also interviewed Mr. Grey, after two or three ineffectual attempts to see him. Evidently he tried to shun her, but she captured him at last in his bank, when he could not get away. When he found that the ordeal must be met, he made the best of it, and nothing could have been more polite or courteous than his manner as he took her into his rear office, and listened to her proposition to take his daughter abroad and give her the benefit of a musical training in Paris or Berlin, or both.

Nothing was said of the stage as a future possibility, and it is doubtful if Miss Percy had a thought of it. She wanted Louie, and meant to have her, and had planned many things she would do when once the young girl was with her.

Accustomed to have her own way, she was not prepared for Mr. Grey’s decided refusal. He thanked her for her interest in Louie, but said he could not part with her. Later, when she was through school, he meant to take her abroad himself and possibly give her some instructions in music, although he doubted if it would help her much. Her voice suited him; training might spoil it. He was very firm, and Miss Percy left him with a feeling that he was a very obstinate man and a very peculiar man, whom she could not understand. He was a gentleman in every respect, but he impressed her as being very shy for one who had seen much of the world. Evidently he was under restraint in her presence, and was relieved when she arose to go, after exhausting every possible argument in favor of taking Louie with her to Europe. He was certainly standing in his own light, or rather in Louie’s, and when she bade the latter good-by she said to her: