A Fair Barbarian Read online

  CHAPTER XIV.

  A CLERICAL VISIT.

  It was indeed true that the Rev. Arthur Poppleton had spent the greaterpart of his afternoon in Miss Belinda Bassett's front parlor, and thatOctavia had entertained him in such a manner that he had been beguiledinto forgetting the clerical visits he had intended to make, and hadfinally committed himself by a promise to return a day or two later toplay croquet. His object in calling had been to request Miss Belinda'sassistance in a parochial matter. His natural timorousness of nature hadindeed led him to put off making the visit for as long a time aspossible. The reports he had heard of Miss Octavia Bassett had inspiredhim with great dread. Consequently he had presented himself at MissBelinda's front door with secret anguish.

  "Will you say," he had faltered to Mary Anne, "that it is Mr. Poppleton,to see _Miss_ Bassett--Miss _Belinda_ Bassett?"

  And then he had been handed into the parlor, the door had been closedbehind him, and he had found himself shut up entirely alone in the roomwith Miss Octavia Bassett herself.

  His first impulse was to turn, and flee precipitately: indeed, he evenwent so far as to turn, and clutch the handle of the door; but somehow asecond thought arrived in time to lead him to control himself.

  This second thought came with his second glance at Octavia.

  She was not at all what he had pictured her. Singularly enough, no onehad told him that she was pretty; and he had thought of her as a gauntyoung person, with a determined and manly air. She struck him, on thecontrary, as being extremely girlish and charming to look upon. She worethe pale pink gown; and as he entered he saw her give a furtive littledab to her eyes with a lace handkerchief, and hurriedly crush an openletter into her pocket. Then, seeming to dismiss her emotion withenviable facility, she rose to greet him.

  "If you want to see aunt Belinda," she said, "perhaps you had better sitdown. She will be here directly." He plucked up spirit to take a seat,suddenly feeling his terror take wing. He was amazed at his own courage.

  "Th-thank you," he said. "I have the pleasure of"--There, it is true, hestopped, looked at her, blushed, and finished somewhat disjointedly."Miss Octavia Bassett, I believe."

  "Yes," she answered, and sat down near him.

  When Miss Belinda descended the stairs, a short time afterward, her earswere greeted by the sound of brisk conversation, in which the Rev. ArthurPoppleton appeared to be taking part with before-unheard-of spirit. Whenhe arose at her entrance, there was in his manner an air of mild buoyancywhich astonished her beyond measure. When he re-seated himself, he seemedquite to forget the object of his visit for some minutes, and was thusplaced in the embarrassing position of having to refer to his note-book.

  Having done so, and found that he had called to ask assistance for thefamily of one of his parishioners, he recovered himself somewhat. As heexplained the exigencies of the case, Octavia listened.

  "Well," she said, "I should think it would make you quite uncomfortable,if you see things like that often."

  "I regret to say I do see such things only too frequently," he answered.

  "Gracious!" she said; but that was all.

  He was conscious of being slightly disappointed at her apathy; andperhaps it is to be deplored that he forgot it afterward, when MissBelinda had bestowed her mite, and the case was dismissed for the timebeing. He really did forget it, and was beguiled into making a very longcall, and enjoying himself as he had never enjoyed himself before.

  When, at length, he was recalled to a sense of duty by a glance at theclock, he had already before his eyes an opening vista of delights,taking the form of future calls, and games of croquet played upon MissBelinda's neatly-shaven grass-plat. He had bidden the ladies adieu in theparlor, and, having stepped into the hall, was fumbling rather excitedlyin the umbrella-stand for his own especially slender clerical umbrella,when he was awakened to new rapture by hearing Miss Octavia's tone again.

  He turned, and saw her standing quite near him, looking at him withrather an odd expression, and holding something in her hand.

  "Oh!" she said. "See here,--those people."

  "I--beg pardon," he hesitated. "I don't quite understand."

  "Oh, yes!" she answered. "Those desperately poor wretches, you know, withfever, and leaks in their house, and all sorts of disagreeable things thematter with them. Give them this, won't you?"

  "This" was a pretty silk purse, through whose meshes he saw the gleam ofgold coin.

  "That?" he said. "You don't mean--isn't there a good deal--I begpardon--but really"--

  "Well, if they are as poor as you say they are, it won't be too much,"she replied. "I don't suppose they'll object to it: do you?"

  She extended it to him as if she rather wished to get it out of herhands.

  "You'd better take it," she said. "I shall spend it on something I don'tneed, if you don't. I'm always spending money on things I don't care forafterward."

  He was filled with remorse, remembering that he had thought herapathetic.

  "I--I really thought you were not interested at all," he burst forth."Pray forgive me. This is generous indeed."

  She looked down at some particularly brilliant rings on her hand, insteadof looking at him.

  "Oh, well!" she said, "I think it must be simply horrid to have to dowithout things. I can't see how people live. Besides, I haven't deniedmyself any thing. It would be worth talking about if I had, I suppose.Oh! By the by, never mind telling any one, will you?"

  Then, without giving him time to reply, she raised her eyes to his face,and plunged into the subject of the croquet again, pursuing it until thefinal moment of his exit and departure, which was when Mrs. Burnham andMiss Pilcher had been scandalized at the easy freedom of her adieus.