From Jest to Earnest | Page 3

absence of a pleasing
expression spoiled them. She had a fine education, but did not know
what to do with it; considerable talent, but no energy; too much
conscience, as she had not the resolution to obey it. Her life was passed
mainly in easy chairs, chronic dyspepsia, and feeble protest against
herself and all the world.
Lottie often half provoked but never roused her by saying: "Bel, you
are the most negative creature I ever knew. Why don't you do
something or be something out and out? Well, ''Tis an ill wind that
blows nobody any good.' You make an excellent foil for me."
And gloriously rich and tropical did Lottie appear against the colorless
background of her friend. Bel felt that she suffered by the comparison
so frankly indicated, but was too indolent and irresolute to change for
the better or avoid companionship with one whose positive and

full-blooded nature seemed to supplement her own meagre life.
When all appeared in the dining-room the shades and contrasts in
character became more evident. At the head of the table sat a gentleman
as yet not introduced, Mr. Dimmerly by name, a bachelor brother of
Mrs. Marchmont who resided with her. He was a quaint-appearing little
man, who in a greater degree than his age required seemed to belong to
a former generation. His manners were too stately for his stature, and
he was embarrassed by his elaborate efforts at politeness as his
movements might have been by too ample garments.
He and his sister were representatives of one of the "old families" of the
State, and, like their mansion, reminded one of the past. Indeed, they
seemed to cherish, as a matter of pride and choice, their savor of
antiquity, instinctively recognizing that their claims upon society were
inherited rather than earned.
Old families do not always appear to accumulate the elements of
greatness to such a degree that there is an increasing and almost
irresistible impetus of force and genius. Successive generations are not
necessarily born to a richer dower of mind and morals. Too often it
would seem that the great qualities that in the first place launched a
family on a brilliant career expend themselves, until the latest scion,
like a spent arrow, drops into insignificance.
Mrs. Marchmont was regarded by society as an elegant woman, and she
was, in all externals. The controlling principle of her life was precedent.
What had been customary, and still obtained among the "good old
families," had a flavor of divine right in it.
Alas for the Marchmont family, for the young lady of the house seemed
inclined to maintain and perpetuate nothing save her own will, and had
no special development in any respect, save a passion for her own way.
Still she was one of those girls whom society calls a "pretty little
thing," and was predestined to marry some large, good-natured man
who would imagine that she would make a nice little pet, a household
fairy, but who might learn to his dismay that the fairy could be a
tormenting elf. She would not marry the young gentleman with whom
her name was at present associated by the gossips, and who had driven
over that morning to help her entertain the expected guests. Mr.
Harcourt and Miss Marchmont understood each other. He was a distant
relative of her mother's, and so under the disguise of kinship could be

very familiar. The tie between them was composed of one part
friendship and two parts flirtation. He had recently begun the practice
of law in a neighboring town, and found the Marchmont residence a
very agreeable place at which to spend his leisure. It was Miss
Marchmont's purpose that he should form one of the gay party that
would make the holiday season a prolonged frolic. He, nothing loath,
accepted the invitation, and appeared in time for dinner. To many he
seemed to possess a dual nature. He had a quick, keen intellect, and,
during business hours, gave an absorbed attention to his profession. At
other times he was equally well known as a sporting man, with
tendencies somewhat fast.
Mrs. Marchmont's well-appointed dining-room was peculiarly
attractive that wintry day. Finished off in some dark wood on which the
ruddy hickory fire glistened warmly, it made a pleasing contrast to the
cold whiteness of the snow without. A portly colored waiter in dress
coat seemed the appropriate presiding genius of the place, and in his
ebon hands the polished silver and crystal were doubly luminous.
And yet the family, with its lack of original force, its fading traditions
of past greatness, made rather a dim and neutral tint, against which
such a girl as Charlotte Marsden appeared as the glowing embodiment
of the vivid and intense spirit of the present age.