At Last | Page 4

expressed laconically the essence of numberless walks by

moonlight and starlight; innumerable dances in the great ball-room, and
the sweeter, more interesting confabulations that made the young
people better acquainted in four weeks than would six years of
conventional calls and small-talk. They stayed the month out, although
"Aunt Rachel" had, upon their arrival, named a fortnight as the extreme
limit of their sojourn. Frederic Chilton was their escort to Eastern
Virginia, and remained a week at Ridgeley--perhaps to recover from
the fatigue of the journey. So soon as he returned to Philadelphia, in
which place he had lately opened a law-office, he wrote to Mabel,
declaring his affection for her, and suing for reciprocation. She granted
him a gracious reply, and sanctioned by fond, sympathetic Aunt Rachel,
in the absence of Mabel's brother and guardian, the correspondence was
kept up briskly until Frederic's second visit in September. Ungenerous
gossips, envious of her talents and influence, had occasionally sneered
at Mrs. Sutton's appropriation of the credit of other alliances--but this
one was her handiwork beyond dispute--hers and Providence's. She
never forgot the partnership. She had carried her head more erect, and
there was a brighter sparkle in her blue orbs since the evening Mabel
had come blushingly to her room, Fred's proposal in her hand--to ask
counsel and congratulations. Everybody saw through the discreet veil
with which she flattered herself she concealed her exultation when
others than the affianced twain were by--and while nobody was so
unkind as to expose the thinness of the pretence, she was given to
understand in many and gratifying ways that her masterpiece was
considered, in the Aylett circle, a suitable crown to the achievements
that had preceded it. Mabel was popular and beloved, and her betrothed,
in appearance and manner, in breeding and intelligence, justified Mrs.
Sutton's pride in her niece's choice.
The old lady colored up, with the quick, vivid rose-tint of sudden and
real pleasure that rarely outlives early girlhood, when the first
respondent to the breakfast-bell proved to be her Frederic's god-son.
"You are always punctual! I wish you would teach the good habit to
some other people," she said, after answering his cordial
"good-morning."
"None of us deserve to be praised on that score, to-day," rejoined he,
looking at his watch. "I did not awake until the dressing-bell rang. Our
riding-party was out late last night. The extreme beauty of the evening

beguiled us into going further than we intended, when we set out."
"Yes! you young folks are falling into shockingly irregular habits--take
unprecedented liberties with me and with Time!" shaking her head. "If
Winston do not return soon, you will set my mild rule entirely at
defiance."
Chilton laughed--but was serious the next instant.
"I expected confidently to meet him at this visit," he said, glancing at
the door to guard against being overheard. "Should he not return to-day,
ought I not, before leaving this to-morrow, to write to him, since he is
legally his sister's guardian? It is, you and she tell me, a mere form, but
one that should not be dispensed with any longer."
"That may be so. Winston is rigorous in requiring what is due to his
position--is, in some respects, a fearful formalist. But he will hardly
oppose your wishes and Mabel's. He has her real happiness at heart, I
believe, although he is, at times, an over-strict and exacting
guardian--perhaps to counterbalance my indulgent policy. He is unlike
any other young man I know."
"His sister is very much attached to him."
"She loves him--I was about to say, preposterously. Her implicit belief
in and obedience to him have increased his self-confidence into a
dogmatic assertion of infallibility. But"--fearing she might create an
unfortunate impression upon the listener's mind--"Winston has grounds
for his good opinion of himself. His character is unblemished--his
principles and aims are excellent. Only"--relapsing hopelessly into the
confidential strain in which most of the conference had been
carried--"between ourselves, my dear Frederic, I am never quite easy
with these patterns to the rest of human-kind. I should even prefer a
tiny vein of depravity to such very rectangular virtue."
"You are seldom ill at ease, if human perfection is all that renders you
uncomfortable," responded Frederic. "There are not many in whose
composition one cannot trace, not a tiny, but a broad vein of Adamic
nature. What a delicious morning!" he added, sauntering to the
window.
"And how sorry I am for those who did not get up in time to enjoy the
freshness of its beauty!" cried a gay voice from the portico, and Mabel
entered by the glass door behind him--her hands loaded with roses,
herself so beaming that her lover refrained with difficulty from kissing

the saucy mouth then and there.
He did take both her hands, under pretext