An Original Belle | Page 5

the violet, although he was somewhat redolent of the extract of that
modest flower. He was dressed in the extreme of the prevailing mode,
and evidently cultivated a metropolitan air, rather than the unobtrusive
bearing of one who is so thoroughly a gentleman that he can afford to
be himself. Mr. Strahan was quite sure of his welcome, for he felt that
he brought to the little cottage a genuine Madison-avenue atmosphere.
He was greeted with the cordiality which made Miss Vosburgh's
drawing-room one of the pleasantest of lounging-places, whether in
town or country; and under his voluble lead conversation took the
character of fashionable gossip, which would have for the reader as
much interest as the presentation of some of the ephemeral weeds of
that period. But Mr. Strahan's blue eyes were really animated as he
ventured perilously near a recent scandal in high life. His budget of
news was interspersed with compliments to his hostess, which, like the
extract on his handkerchief, were too pronounced. Mr. Lane regarded
him with politely veiled disgust, but was too well-bred not to second
Miss Vosburgh's remarks to the best of his ability.
Before long two or three more visitors dropped in. One from the hotel
was a millionnaire, a widower leisurely engaged in the selection of a
second wife. Another was a young artist sketching in the vicinity. A
third was an officer from West Point who knew Mr. Vosburgh. There
were also callers from the neighborhood during the evening. Mrs.
Vosburgh made her appearance early, and was almost as skilful a
hostess as her daughter. But few of the guests remained long. They had
merely come to enjoy a pleasant half-hour or more under circumstances
eminently agreeable, and would then drive on and pay one or two visits
in the vicinity. That was the way in which nearly all Marian's
"friendships" began.
The little parlor resounded with animated talk, laughter, and music, that
was at the same time as refined as informal. Mrs. Vosburgh would seat
herself at the piano, that a new dancing-step or a new song might be
tried. The gentlemen were at liberty to light their cigars and form
groups among themselves, so free from stiffness was Marian's little
salon. Brief time elapsed, however, without a word to each, in her
merry, girlish voice, for she had the instincts of a successful hostess,
and a good-natured sense of honor, which made her feel that each guest

was entitled to attention. She was not much given to satire, and the
young men soon learned that she would say more briery things to their
faces than behind their backs. It was also discovered that ill-natured
remarks about callers who had just departed were not tolerated,--that
within certain limits she was loyal to her friends, and that, she was too
high-minded to speak unhandsomely of one whom she had just greeted
cordially. If she did not like a man she speedily froze him out of the
ranks of her acquaintance; but for such action there was not often
occasion, since she and her mother had a broad, easy tolerance of those
generally accepted by society. Even such as left her parlor finally with
wounds for which there was no rapid healing knew that no one would
resent a jest at their expense more promptly than the girl whom they
might justly blame for having smiled too kindly.
Thus she remained a general favorite. It was recognized that she had a
certain kind of loyalty which could be depended upon. Of course such a
girl would eventually marry, and with natural hope and egotism each
one felt that he might be the successful competitor. At any rate, as in
war, they must take their chances, and it seems that there is never a lack
of those willing to assume such risks.
Thus far, however, Marian had no inclination to give up her present life
of variety and excitement. She preferred incense from many
worshippers to the devotion of one. The secret of this was perhaps that
her heart had remained so untouched and unconscious that she scarcely
knew she had one. She understood the widower's preference, enjoyed
the compliment, and should there be occasion would, in perfect good
taste, beg to be excused.
Her pulse was a little quickened by Mr. Lane's downright earnestness,
and when matters should come to a crisis she would say lovely things
to him of her esteem, respect, regret, etc. She would wish they might
remain friends--why could they not, when she liked him so much? As
for love and engagement, she did not, could not, think of that yet.
She was skilful, too, in deferring such crises, and to-night, in obedience
to a signal, Mrs. Vosburgh remained until even Mr. Lane despaired of
another word in