"But if you did not go with John Gray, you danced with him, you talked with him?""No," replied Amy, quickly growing grave, "I didn't dance with him.But we talked yes--not much; it was a little too serious for many words," and she sank into a mysterious silence, seeming even to forget herself in some new recess of happiness.
Mrs.Falconer was watching her.
"Ah!" she murmured to herself."It is too late! too late!" She passed her fingers slowly across her brow with a feeling that life had turned ashen, cold, barren."How is Kitty?" she asked quickly.
"Well--as always; and stupid."
"She is always kind and good, isn't she? and faithful.""Kindness is not always interesting, unfortunately; and goodness is dreadful, and her faithfulness bores me to death.""At least, she was your hostess, Amy." "I lent her my silk stockings or she'd have had to wear cotton ones," exclaimed Amy, laughing."We're even.""If you were merely paying for a lodging, you should have gone to the inn.""There was nobody at the tavern who could wear my silk stockings; and I had spent all my money.""Don't you expect Kitty to return your visit?
"I certainly do-- more's the pity.She has such big feet!" Amy put out her toe and studied it with vixenish satisfaction.
"Aunt Jessica," she observed at length, looking round at her aunt."You have to work too hard.And I have always been such a care to you.Wouldn't you like to get rid of me?"Mrs.Falconer leaned quickly, imploringly, toward her.
"Is that a threat, Amy?"
Amy waited half a minute and then began with a composure that was tinged with condescension:
"You have had so much trouble in your life, Aunt Jessica; so much sorrow."Mrs.Falconer started and turned upon her niece her eyes that were always exquisite with refinement.
"Amy, have I ever spoken to you of the troubles of my life?" The reproof was majestic in dignity and gentleness.
"You have not."
"Then will you never speak of them to me never again--while you live!"Amy began again with a dry practical voice, which had in it the sting of revenge; her aunt's rebuke had nettled her.
"At least, I have always been a trouble to you.You sew for me, cook for me, make the garden for me, spin and weave for me, and worry about me.Uncle has to work for me and support me."The turn of the conversation away from herself brought such relief that Mrs.
Falconer replied even warmly.
"You have been a great pleasure to him and to me! The little I have done, you have repaid a thousand fold.Think of us at night without you! Your uncle on one side of the fireplace--me on the other, and you away! Think of us at the table--him at one end, me at the other, and you away! Think of me alone in the house all day, while he is in the fields! Child, I have depended on you--more than you will ever understand!" she added to herself.
"Aunt Jessica," observed Amy with the air of making a fine calculation, "perhaps uncle would think more of you if I were not in the house.""Amy!"
"Perhaps you would think more of him!"
"Amy!"
"Perhaps if neither of you had me to depend on, you might depend more on each other and be happier.""You speak to me in this way--on a subject like this! You'd better go!""Aunt Jessica," replied Amy, never budging, "the time has been when I would have done so.But it is too late now for you ever to tell me to leave your presence.I am a woman! If I had not been, I shouldn't have said what I just have."Mrs.Falconer looked at her in silence.This rare gentlewoman had too profound a knowledge of the human heart not to realize that she was completely vanquished.For where in this world is not refinement instantly beaten by coarseness, gentleness by rudeness, all delicacy by all that is indelicate? What can the finest consideration avail against no consideration? the sweetest forbearance against intrusiveness? the beak of the dove against the beak of the hawk? And yet all these may have their victory; for when the finer and the baser metal are forced to struggle with each other in the same field, the finer may always leave it.
With unruffled dignity and with a voice that Amy had never heard--a voice that brought the blood rushing into her cheeks--Mrs.Falconer replied:"Yes;it is true: you are a woman.This is the first day that you have ever made me feel this.For I have always known that as soon as you became one, you would begin to speak to me as you have spoken.I shall never again request you to leave my presence: when it becomes unavoidable, I shall leave yours."She rose and was moving away.Amy started up and caught her.
"Aunt Jessica, I've something to tell you!" she cried, her face dyed scarlet with the sting.
Mrs.Falconer released herself gently and returned to her seat.
"You know what I mean by what I said?" inquired Amy, still confused but regaining self command rapidly.
"I believe I know: you are engaged to be married."The words were very faint: they would have reached the subtlest ear with the suggestiveness of a light dreary wind blowing over a desolation.
"Yes; I am engaged to be married."
Amy affirmed it with a definite stress.
"It is this that has made you a woman?
"It is this that has made me a woman."
After the silence of a moment Mrs.Falconer inquired:
"You do not expect to ask my consent--my advice?""I certainly do not expect to ask your consent--your advice."Amy was taking her revenge now--and she always took it as soon as possible.
"Nor your uncle's?"
"Nor my uncle's."
After another, longer silence:
"Do you care to tell me how long this engagement has lasted?""Certainly!--Since last night."
"Thank you for telling me that.I think I must go back to my work now."She walked slowly away.Amy sat still, twirling her bonnet strings and smiling to herself.
