The Law of the Land | Page 2

the windows and touched Miss Lady's hair as she stood there, asking
the answer of the mirror. It was morning in the great room, morning for
the southern day, morning for the old plantation whose bell now
jangled faintly and afar off--morning indeed for Miss Lady, who now
had ceased in her self-absorbed dance. At this very moment, as she
stood gazing into the mirror, with the sunlight and the roses thus at
hand, one might indeed have sworn that it was morning for ever, over
all the world!
Miss Lady stood eager, fascinated, before the glass; and in the presence
of the tall flowers and the tall birds, saw something which stirred her,

felt something which came in at the window out of the blue sky and
from the red rose blossoms, on the warm south wind. Impulsively she
flung out her arms to the figure in the glass. Perhaps she felt its beauty
and its friendliness. And yet, an instant later, her arms relaxed and sank;
she sighed, knowing not why she sighed.
Ah, Miss Lady, if only it could be for ever morning for us all! Nay, let
us say not so. Let us say rather that this sweet picture of Miss Lady,
doubled by the glass, remains to-day imperishably preserved in the old
mirror--the picture of Miss Lady dancing as the bird flies, and then
standing, plaintive and questioning, before her own image, loving it
because it was beautiful and friendly, dreading it because she could not
understand.
Miss Lady had forgotten that she was alone, and did not hear the step at
the door, nor see the hand which presently pushed back the curtain.
There stepped into the room, the tall, somewhat full figure of a lady
who stood looking on with eyes at first surprised, then cynically
amused. The intruder paused, laughing a low, well-fed, mellow laugh.
On the moment she coughed in deprecation. Miss Lady sprang back, as
does the wild deer startled in the forest. Her hands went to her cheeks,
which burned in swift flame, thence to drop to her bosom, where her
heart was beating in a confusion of throbs, struggling with the reversed
current of the blood of all her tall young body.
"Mamma!" she cried. "You startled me." "So it seems," said the new-
comer. "I beg your pardon. I did not mean to intrude upon your
devotions."
She came forward and seated herself-a tall woman, a trifle full of figure
now, but still vital of presence. Her figure, deep-chested, rounded and
shapely, now began to carry about it a certain air of ease. The mouth,
well-bowed and red, had a droop of the same significance. The eyes,
deep, dark and shaded by strong brows, held depths not to be fathomed
at a glance, but their first message was one of an open and ready
self-indulgence. The costume, flowing, loose and easy, carried out the
same thought; the piled black hair did not deny it; the smile upon the
face, amused, half-cynical, confirmed it. Here was a woman of her own

acquaintance with the world, you would have said. And in the next
breath you must have asked how she could have been the mother of this
tall girl, at whom she now smiled thus mockingly.
"I was just--I was--well, I was dancing, mamma," said Miss Lady. "It is
so nice." This somewhat vaguely.
"Yes," said her mother; "why?"
"I do not know," said Miss Lady, frankly, and turning to her with
sudden courage. "I was dancing. That is all."
"Yes, I know."
"Well, is it any crime, mamma, I should like to ask?" This with spirit,
and with eyes showing themselves able to flash upon occasion.
"Not in the least, my dear. Indeed, I am not at all surprised. I knew it
was coming."
"What was coming, mammal? What do you mean?"
"Why, that this was going to happen--that you were going to dance. It
was nearly time."
"I do not know what you mean."
"It was always thus with the Ellisons," said the other woman. "All the
Ellisons danced this way once in their lives. All the girls do so. They're
very strange, these Ellison girls. They dance because they must, I
suppose. It's as natural as breathing, for them. You can't help it. It's fate.
But listen, child. It is time I took you more in hand. You will be
marrying before long--"
"Mamma!" Miss Lady blushed indignantly. "How can you talk so? I
don't know--I didn't--I shan't--"
"Tut, tut. Please don't. It is going to be a very warm day. I really can't
go into any argument. Take my word, you will marry soon; or if you

don't, you will reverse all the known horoscopes of the family. That,
too, is the fate of the Ellison girls--certain