Chapter XIII The Train Boy by Jr. Horatio Alger
GRACE DEARBORN AT HOME
Grace Dearborn sat before the fire in her aunt's handsome house, with a writing-desk in her lap. Before her was a sheet of note-paper on which she had commenced writing a list of names.
Her aunt sat near her, dictating a list of persons who were to receive cards of invitation to a party which she proposed giving in honor of her niece's birthday.
Grace had been writing busily for some time.
"Any one else, Aunt Caroline?" she asked.
"I believe I have included every one. Let me think. Oh, I came near forgetting Major Ashton. How stupid of me!"
"Major Ashton," repeated Grace, as she wrote the name.
"It would have been singular if we had forgotten to include him," said the elder lady.
"I did not forget him," returned Grace.
"Then why did you not remind me?"
"I suppose because I was not very anxious to have him invited."
"Yet he did you the honor of offering you his hand?"
"He may have considered it an honor; I didn't," said Grace, decidedly.
"At all events it was a compliment."
"Be it so! If he would accept his rejection as final I should not mind, but on the two or three occasions since when we have met he has tried to introduce the subject again. He does not seem willing to take no for an answer."
"Why not reconsider the matter, Grace? He is rich——"
"As if I cared for that."
"Well, he is fashionable, and is met everywhere in society. He would give his wife a desirable position."
"Will that compensate for the lack of love, Aunt Caroline?"
"Perhaps not, but love would come in time."
"Love must come before marriage in my case, Aunt Caroline. With Major Ashton it would never come afterward."
"You speak very decidedly, Grace."
"No more so than I feel. To be quite frank with you, I am more than indifferent to Major Ashton. I positively dislike him."
"Why? Can you assign any reason?"
"None that will fully explain my feelings. The fact is, I cannot myself account for the antipathy with which he inspires me. It seems almost instinctive. Without knowing anything against him I feel convinced that he is a bad and dangerous man."
"This is silly, Grace."
"It may be so, but I can't help it."
"You do not object to my inviting him to your party?"
"No. I have no right to do that, or rather I do not wish to; since it would be a gratuitous slight. He must come, of course, though I would rather he were away."
"That is all, then, unless any other name occurs to you."
"There is one other name, Aunt Caroline," said Grace, hesitatingly.
"Well?"
"Mr. Vernon."
"What Mr. Vernon?"
"Mr. Frederic Vernon, the artist."
"But, Grace, he is not in society. He does not belong to our circle."
"He is a gentleman, Aunt Caroline, and is worthy of social recognition."
"My dear child, he is very poor. I doubt whether he has a dress suit to appear in."
"That is his affair. He may not come, but it will be polite in us to invite him."
"You are rather quixotic, Grace."
"Why do you think so? I know Mr. Vernon to be well educated, and possessed of culture and refinement in a higher degree than many of the gentlemen who will receive invitations. I feel like recognizing him as an equal. Do you seriously object?"
"Oh, no! Send him a card if you wish. I only wished to set before you the singularity of inviting a poor, obscure artist to a fashionable party. We may be criticised."
"We propose to please ourselves, not the critics, Aunt Caroline," answered Grace, with a curl of the lip. "Now, there is one on your list whom I think much more unfit than Mr. Vernon, who is qualified to appear anywhere among gentlemen and ladies."
"To whom do you refer, Grace?"
"To Miss Framley."
"Do you know anything against her? She was recently introduced to me at a party, and made herself very agreeable. I could not very well help sending her a card."
"I know she is vulgar, and mean in money matters. Before I ever met her I got an insight into her character from a chance conversation which I overheard between herself and a friend in a street car."
"She visits at good houses."
"Oh, yes, I believe her father is rich, and I know they live in handsome style, but that doesn't save her from being vulgar and ill-bred."
"You are disposed to be too critical, Grace. It won't do to judge our fashionable acquaintances too rigidly. We must take the world as we find it."
"Smiling on those who are prosperous, and frowning on those who are not wealthy. We must, in other words, apply the standard of gold to all."
"No; that is overstating it. But if we find persons in good society we may feel safe in associating with them; then, if we prove mistaken, we can throw the responsibility on society. To be deceived in good company is excusable."
"You judge such matters from a worldly stand-point, Aunt Caroline."
"Oh, well, I am a woman of the world, my dear," said Mrs. Sheldon, shrugging her shoulders. "Well, that completes our list, and we can prepare the cards at our leisure."
The same evening, about eight o'clock, the servant entered Miss Dearborn's presence, and said:
"There is a young man at the door who wishes to see you."
"Who is it? Did he give you his card?"
"I don't believe he has any, Miss Grace," said the girl, laughing. "It's a boy about sixteen, and a little girl."
"Oh, it's my train boy!" exclaimed Grace, with animation.
Soon Paul and his little sister entered the room.
Our hero's manner was modest, but self-possessed, while Grace clung to him bashfully.
"I am glad to see you, Paul," said the young lady, with a bright smile.
"Thank you, Miss Dearborn."
"So this is your little sister, and my little namesake. How do you do, my dear child?"
Grace answered, bashfully, that she was very well.
"You see, Miss Dearborn, Grace is wearing the cloak you were kind enough to give her."
"And very well it becomes her, too. Is your mother well, Paul?"
"Yes, Miss Dearborn, thank you."
"I suppose she keeps house with Grace while you are away during the day?"
"Yes; but she also sews when she has an opportunity."
"I suppose she is not very well paid sometimes?"
"Very poorly at the best; but in some cases those who employ her are very mean. Now, there was Miss Framley——"
"Miss Framley!" repeated Grace, with interest. "Tell me the story."
Paul did tell the story already familiar to us.
"And this person is to be present at my party!" thought Grace, with an uncontrollable feeling of disgust. "I shall find it hard to be ordinarily polite to her."
"You must not think all ladies are as inconsiderate, Paul," she said. "Has your mother leisure to do some sewing for me?"
"She will be glad to do so, Miss Dearborn."
"Then, if you can call here to-morrow evening, I will have a bundle ready. I shall pay her double the price she charged Miss Framley."
"You are very kind, Miss Dearborn, and my mother will be overjoyed. I do not wish her to sew at all, but she is unwilling to give it up."
Paul and his sister remained an hour, Grace exerting herself far more to entertain them than she would have done had they been fashionable callers.
"How did you like her, Gracie?" asked Paul, as they were walking homeward.
"She's awful nice, Paul," said the little girl.
"So I think," said Paul.