The Inner Sisterhood | Page 8

a desire to give pain, sir!" He placed my night-key in the door deliberately, calmly; pushed open the door, lifted his hat, turned on his heel, without even closing one half of the storm-doors, like other men always do, and said: "Miss Wing, you have been well taught! You were, indeed, a very apt scholar! I congratulate you! I have the honor to bid you good-night!" I could have picked a dozen pale-pink roses to pieces just then, but not leaf by leaf; I could have torn up a whole rose-tree by the roots! They say Mr. Young is so smart, wonderful deep, and all that; but he is just a mean, rude man, and I won't ever have any thing more to do with him; and when I say I won't, I won't!
How some people do ruffle me into a fever-heat of dislike and ardent opposition. Of course I know that it is all wrong, yet after all there is a certain kind of satisfaction. Now, for instance, that Mrs. Babbington Brooks, with her smooth, oily tongue, abominable phrases, "Yes, my sweet loves," and her "O! my dear doves," sets me fairly wild. She is such a vulgar, low-born person! I always feel tempted to fly right at her and tear off her load of tawdry, costly finery, exhaling a strong, close odor of greenbacks. How people have taken them up! all on account of their money. They are invited every where; and only last season people were turning up their noses and asking, "Who, pray, are the Brookses?" Thanks to a cook from somewhere, and a butler from somewhere else, their entertainments are said to be really delightful, and their dinners perfection itself. They are not yet quite sure of their position! They are afraid it will not be permanent! But they will succeed. I know they will, because I feel it! To me there is always something very fascinating about these desperate social strugglers--especially when they are successful. Aunt Patsey, too, she says they will succeed, and Aunt Patsey knows! But she don't know every thing, for Mrs. John Robert Gilder has fooled her. But I am not surprised; she would have fooled me, also, if I was not so intimate with Sophia, who tells me every thing--the only person who ever did; and there is just nothing I would not do for her. I know Sophia Gilder's other secret! She is caring a great deal too much for a man who don't take overmuch interest in her. But the man don't even know that she cares any thing for him, and I don't believe he will ever know--unless I tell him myself! Now I call that real tragedy; just as good as any you ever see on the stage, or read about in books. I would love to tell him; but that is one thing I have never told, and I never will, either! As they say in novels, it will go down to my grave with me. I am so anxious about Sophia, I am afraid it may take her there. But I have my doubts, she is right healthy-looking yet. Aunt Patsey says that love hurts a powerful lot, but don't often kill out and out. Robert Fairfield is the man. Ma says she never could understand why he don't pay me devoted attention. His father was one of her old beaus. She was engaged to him; Aunt Patsey broke it off--she was scheming for pa--she could break off any thing, that ancient female! Mr. Fairfield is polite to me, and that is about all. When I was a school-girl I used to dream about him! In my dreams he was always dressed like a knight, and rode a milk-white steed, waved his hand toward me, and then I always waked up. It was so provoking. I never could get any further into the dream. I know I would like him if I knew him real well. He is quiet, but not one bit stupid. He talks little, but oh, he is such an attentive listener! He don't come after me, so I can't run after him. For I don't know, and I don't want to know any thing about catching men--as if they were wild animals, fish, or something. Aunt Patsey calls it diplomacy! Diplomacy? Fiddle-sticks! It is down right deception of the very worst kind. I know that I talk too much, tell a great many things that ought to be left unsaid, but I do not tell lies--there is no other name for them--and knowingly, with malice aforethought, make an injury or do a wrong to any body.
But, my, my! I am always in trouble. Tom, my little brother, ran into the room just now, nearly out of breath, and made