A Fair Barbarian | Page 2

at five, and gone to bed at
ten, with such regularity for fifty years, that to rise at eight, breakfast at
nine, dine at three, and take tea at six, and go to bed at eleven, would,
she was firmly convinced, be but "to fly in the face of Providence," as
she put it, and sign her own death-warrant. Consequently, it is easy to
imagine what a tremor and excitement seized her when, one afternoon,
as she sat waiting for her tea, a coach from the Blue Lion dashed--or, at
least, almost dashed--up to the front door, a young lady got out, and the
next minute the handmaiden, Mary Anne, threw open the door of the
parlor, announcing, without the least preface,--
"Your niece, mum, from 'Meriker."
Miss Belinda got up, feeling that her knees really trembled beneath her.
In Slowbridge, America was not approved of--in fact, was almost
entirely ignored, as a country where, to quote Lady Theobald, "the laws
were loose, and the prevailing sentiments revolutionary." It was not
considered good taste to know Americans,--which was not unfortunate,
as there were none to know; and Miss Belinda Bassett had always felt a
delicacy in mentioning her only brother, who had emigrated to the
United States in his youth, having first disgraced himself by the
utterance of the blasphemous remark that "he wanted to get to a place
where a fellow could stretch himself, and not be bullied by a lot of old
tabbies." From the day of his departure, when he had left Miss Belinda
bathed in tears of anguish, she had heard nothing of him; and here upon
the threshold stood Mary Anne, with delighted eagerness in her
countenance, repeating,--
"Your niece, mum, from 'Meriker!"

And, with the words, her niece entered.
Miss Belinda put her hand to her heart.
The young lady thus announced was the prettiest, and at the same time
the most extraordinary-looking, young lady she had ever seen in her
life. Slowbridge contained nothing approaching this niece. Her dress
was so very stylish that it was quite startling in its effect; her forehead
was covered down to her large, pretty eyes themselves, with curls of
yellow-brown hair; and her slender throat was swathed round and
round with a grand scarf of black lace.
She made a step forward, and then stopped, looking at Miss Belinda.
Her eyes suddenly, to Miss Belinda's amazement, filled with tears.
"Didn't you," she said,--"oh, dear! _Didn't_ you get the letter?"
"The--the letter!" faltered Miss Belinda. "What letter, my--my dear?"
"Pa's," was the answer. "Oh! I see you didn't."
And she sank into the nearest chair, putting her hands up to her face,
and beginning to cry outright.
"I--am Octavia B-bassett," she said. "We were coming to surp-prise
you, and travel in Europe; but the mines went wrong, and p-pa was
obliged to go back to Nevada."
"The mines?" gasped Miss Belinda.
"S-silver-mines," wept Octavia. "And we had scarcely landed when
Piper cabled, and pa had to turn back. It was something about shares,
and he may have lost his last dollar."
Miss Belinda sank into a chair herself.
"Mary Anne," she said faintly, "bring me a glass of water."
Her tone was such that Octavia removed her handkerchief from her

eyes, and sat up to examine her.
"Are you frightened?" she asked, in some alarm.
Miss Belinda took a sip of the water brought by her handmaiden,
replaced the glass upon the salver, and shook her head deprecatingly.
"Not exactly frightened, my dear," she said, "but so amazed that I find
it difficult to--to collect myself."
Octavia put up her handkerchief again to wipe away a sudden new gush
of tears.
"If shares intended to go down," she said, "I don't see why they couldn't
go down before we started, instead of waiting until we got over here,
and then spoiling every thing."
"Providence, my dear"--began Miss Belinda.
But she was interrupted by the re-entrance of Mary Anne.
"The man from the Lion, mum, wants to know what's to be done with
the trunks. There's six of 'em, an' they're all that 'eavy as he says he
wouldn't lift one alone for ten shilling."
"Six!" exclaimed Miss Belinda. "Whose are they?"
"Mine," replied Octavia. "Wait a minute. I'll go out to him."
Miss Belinda was astounded afresh by the alacrity with which her niece
seemed to forget her troubles, and rise to the occasion. The girl ran to
the front door as if she was quite used to directing her own affairs, and
began to issue her orders.
"You will have to get another man," she said. "You might have known
that. Go and get one somewhere."
And when the man went off, grumbling a little, and evidently rather at
a loss before such peremptory coolness, she turned to Miss