The White Rose of Memphis. Falkner William Clark
to cram his solid ideas into Lottie’s grasping mind.
“‘Ed, she will be home to-morrow,’ said Harry Wallingford as he ran his hand under my arm and walked down the street by my side. ‘I have just received a telegram from her; she left Bards Town this morning, and is now in Louisville. Mr. Rockland is going to give a grand ball in honor of her great triumph as the champion prize-taker at Bards Town. I suppose you have heard about her wonderful victory?’
“‘Yes.’
“‘See here, old fellow, is that all you have to say in praise of this wonderful sister of mine? What is the matter with you, anyway? You look as if you wanted to murder somebody.’
“‘There is nothing wrong with me at all, and I am glad to hear of Lottie’s grand achievements,’ I replied rather dryly, because I had begun to discuss with my mind on the probabilities of losing Lottie. I knew full well that many a gallant knight would be ready to leap into the arena as a contestant for the charming prize – ready to battle to the death to win the hand and heart of the most lovely, the most beautiful and the most talented girl in Tennessee. When I weighed my chances well I was forced to the conclusion that they were too light to go into the balances against many other young men who I knew were going to enter the lists. Lottie had always manifested a partiality for me, but I was afraid that it was more a feeling of sisterly love than anything else. During our childhood days we had often talked of the feelings of true love which we had for each other; but Lottie was now a woman, and I did not want her to love me as a brother. I had no money, and but little education – was green and awkward, timid and ugly, and had no confidence in myself; but I was determined to break many a lance before a rival should carry off the great prize.
“Mr. Rockland was so deeply in love with Lottie that it amounted to idolatry, and it was generally believed, and publicly expressed, that he would settle his large fortune on her. He was extravagant in the expenditure of money for her comfort; in fact, he poured it out like water to gratify her slightest wish, though she was rather inclined to be economical and prudent. She seemed to think more of her books and music than she did of dress and display.
“‘Ed, old boy,’ exclaimed Wallingford, after a long pause, ‘did you know that I was very proud of my sister?’
“‘Yes.’
“‘Ah, yes, I tell you what it is, she is ahead of any girl in Memphis, so far as intelligence and goodness are concerned. Mrs. Rockland says that she is going to set Lottie out when the ball comes off.’
“‘How set her out?’
“‘Pshaw! don’t you know what they mean by setting a girl out? Of course you do. When a girl is ready to receive matrimonial propositions they set her out; that is, they hang out the sign. As the gamblers say, they spread their lay-out, don’t you see? Well, Mrs. Rockland is going to rig Lottie up and throw her at the heads of the male community, as it were. Now, Ed, let me tell you one thing: I mean to have something to say in that little skirmish, and the man who marries my sister must be the reliable sort. If any sap-head bumpkin begins to caper around Lottie, I’ll just give him unlimited leave of absence; and if he don’t take it, I’ll wring off his head.’
“‘Do you intend to marry her to a rich man; or shall she marry for love?’
“‘Of course she shall marry the man of her choice, provided he is of the right stamp. I don’t care about the length of his purse, but he must have brains, and a heart of the right sort, and he must have an established reputation for honor and integrity. If any man were to marry my sister and be unkind to her, don’t you know I would kill him?’
“‘I should be inclined to do such a man some great bodily harm myself.’
“‘Thank you, Ed, I believe you would; and well you might, because, you know, Lottie always loved you as a brother.’
“I felt my heart make a sudden leap and drive the blood to my cheeks when he spoke of brotherly love. I wanted none of that sort. I felt miserable, and was unable to conceal my feelings.
“‘By-by, old boy,’ said Wallingford, as he turned into the street that led to his office. ‘You must call and see us when Lottie gets home.’
“I bowed stiffly, said nothing, and hurried on to my home by no means satisfied with the prospects. ‘They are going to set her out, are they?’ I said mentally. ‘Good! I’ll be there when the show begins, and though my chance is slim, yet I’ll die hard, if die I must.’ I made a draw on Doctor Dodson for cash to pay for a first-class ball dress, and felt profoundly thankful to my tailor for the skill he displayed in the make-up. I did not call to see Lottie when she arrived, because I wanted to appear at the ball in my splendid new costume, so as to take a fair start in the matrimonial tilt I knew the other young men would make.
“Grand indeed were the preparations that were being made for the great ball, and the young people who had been so fortunate as to receive an invitation were looking forward impatiently to the eventful day; and no one thought about it more anxiously than I did. I was very full of apprehension and doubt in regard to Lottie’s feelings toward me, and I propounded a thousand questions to my own mind about it. ‘Will she look down from the high circle where fortune has placed her to the humble sphere in which I am doomed to dwell? or will she forget the poor awkward boy who, in the happy days of old, was glad to kiss the dust that had felt the touch of her little feet? Why should she stoop so low as to even think of me? What right have I, a poor half-educated clerk, to expect such a brilliant, beautiful heiress to lavish her favors on me, when men of wealth and high position are ready to lay their honors and wealth at her feet? What right have I to aspire so high?’ ‘None – none – none!’ was thundered in my ear by Common Sense, as the answer to my mental questions. ‘Miss Charlotte Wallingford is not for your sort,’ said Reason. ‘She is fit for the wife of a king!’ ‘Yes, but I saved her life,’ said my Mind, ‘and she is under obligations to me.’ ‘True enough,’ Reason replies, ‘but it does not follow that she must marry you. Women’s lives are often saved by their servants, yet they do not marry them.’ ‘But it will kill me if Miss Wallingford marries any other man.’ ‘No matter if it does – why should she care? the world will never feel the loss – the sun will shine as bright, the flowers grow as sweet, and the seasons will come and go after you are dead just as they did when you were alive.’ With such unpleasant reflections as these I had managed to work my mind up to an unusual degree of excitement. I became gloomy and unhappy to such an extent as to attract the attention of my good mother (as I called Mrs. Dodson), and she begged me to tell her the cause of my misery. I evaded her questions, and sought solitude, where I could give vent to my sorrow unmolested. She cast many an imploring look at me when I would leave my food untasted. My cheeks grew pale and my appetite failed, and I hugged my misery to my breast, and told my secret to none. I was proud, and felt offended, but had no reasons to give for it. No one had been unkind to, or in any manner maltreated me, yet I was querulous, melancholy and despairing.
“‘Ah, ha! here we come, my boy,’ said Doctor Dodson one morning as he came into the store. ‘What’s the matter, what’s the matter, Ed, my boy? speak it out, speak it out, let it come; what makes you look like a ghost, my boy? Pshaw! don’t tell me such a tale as that, my boy, ah, ha! don’t you do it, I say; indigestion! did you ever know a Russian bear to have bad digestion? No, no, Ed, my boy, you needn’t try to fool me – you can’t do it. The disease is in your mind, ah, ha! don’t you see? Yes, yes, that’s what’s the matter. Something has gone wrong. I’d say it was a love scrape, if it was any other boy; but my old booby has too much sense for anything of that sort; ah, ha! don’t you see how it is, my boy?’
“I soon became convinced that the good old doctor would pry the secret out of me unless I resorted to falsehood, which I resolved not to do; therefore I begged him to let me alone, promising to tell him everything at the end of ten days.
“‘Ah, ha! very good, my boy; I won’t press you further just now, but I mean to hold you down to your promise, don’t you see? I won’t let you go to Philadelphia while you are looking like a defunct specimen of humanity, ah, ha! don’t you see? You look more like a fit subject for a grave-yard than a medical school, ah, ha! yes, that you do, my boy. There now, go to work, and quit this