_ Mr. Eliphalet Hopper, in his Sunday-best broadcloth was a marvel of
propriety. It seemed to Stephen that his face wore a graver expression
on Sunday when he met him standing on Miss Crane's doorstep, picking the
lint from his coat. Stephen's intention was not to speak. But he
remembered what the Judge had said to his mother, and nodded. Why,
indeed, should he put on airs with this man who had come to St. Louis
unknown and unrecommended and poor, who by sheer industry had made
himself of importance in the large business of Carvel &, Company? As for
Stephen Brice, he was not yet earning his salt, but existing by the
charity of Judge Silas Whipple.
"Howdy, Mr. Brice," said Mr. Hopper, his glance caught by the indefinable
in Stephen's costume. This would have puzzled Mr. Hopper's tailor more.
"Very well, thanks."
"A fine day after the rain."
Stephen nodded, and Mr. Hopper entered the hours after him.
"Be you asked to Virginia Carvel's party?" he asked abruptly.
"I do not know Miss Carvel," said Stephen, wondering how well the other
did. And if the truth be told, he was a little annoyed at Mr. Hopper's
free use of her name.
"That shouldn't make no difference," said Eliphalet with just a shade of
bitterness in his tone. "They keep open house, like all Southerners,"
Mr. Hopper hesitated,--"for such as come well recommended. I 'most
forgot," said he. "I callate you're not any too well recommended. I
'most forgot that little transaction down to the Court House. They do
say that she wanted that gal almighty bad,--she was most awful cut up not
to get her. Served her right, though. I'm glad you did. Show her she
can't have everything her own way. And say," he added, with laughter,
"how you did fix that there stuckup Colfax boy! He'll never forgive you
no more than she. But," said Mr. Hopper, meditatively, "it was a durned-
fool trick."
I think Stephen's critics will admit that he had a good right to be
angry, and that they will admire him just a little bit because he kept
his temper. But Mr. Hopper evidently thought he had gone too far.
"She ain't got no use for me, neither," he said.
"She shows poor judgment," answered Stephen.
"She's not long sighted, that's sure," replied Eliphalet, with emphasis.
At dinner Stephen was tried still further. And it was then he made the
determination to write for the newspapers in order to pay the rent on Mr.
Brinsmade's house. Miss Carvel's coming-out party was the chief topic.
"They do say the Colonel is to spend a sight of money on that ball," said
Mrs. Abner Reed. "I guess it won't bankrupt him." And she looked hard
at Mr. Hopper.
"I callate he ain't pushed for money," that gentleman vouchsafed.
"He's a good man, and done well by you, Mr. Hopper."
"So--so," answered Eliphalet. "But I will say that I done something for
the Colonel. I've saved him a hundred times my pay since I showed old
Hood the leaks. And I got a thousand dollar order from Wright & Company
this week for him."
"I dare say you'd keep a tight hand enough on expenses," said Miss Crane,
half in sarcasm, half in approval.
"If Colonel Carvel was doin' business in New England," said Eliphalet,
"he'd been bankrupt long ago."
"That young Clarence Colfax," Mrs. Abner Reed broke in, "he'll get a
right smart mint o' money when he marries Virginia. They do say her
mother left her independent. How now, Mr. Hopper?"
Eliphalet looked mysterious and knowing. He did not reply.
And young Colfax ain't precisely a pauper," said Miss Crane.
"I'll risk a good deal that she don't marry Colfax," said Mr. Hopper.
"What on earth do you mean?" cried Mrs. Abner. It ain't broke off?"
"No," he answered, "it ain't broke off. But I callate she won't have him
when the time comes. She's got too much sense."
Heavy at heart, Stephen climbed the stairs, thanking heaven that he had
not been drawn into the controversy. A partial comprehension of Mr.
Hopper was dawning upon him. He suspected that gentleman of an
aggressive determination to achieve wealth, and the power which
comes with it, for the purpose of using that power upon those beneath
him. Nay, when he thought over his conversation, he suspected him of
more,--of the intention to marry Virginia Carvel.
It will be seen whether Stephen was right or wrong.
He took a walk that afternoon, as far out as a place called Lindell's
Grove, which afterward became historic. And when he returned to the
house, his mother handed him a, little white envelope.
"It came while you were out," she said.
He turned it over, and stared at his name written across the front in a
feminine hand In those days young ladies did not write in the bold and
masculine manner now deemed proper. Stephen stared at the note, manlike,
and pondered.
"Who brought it, mother?"
"Why don't you open it, and see?" asked his mother with a smile.
He took the suggestion. What a funny formal little note we should think
it now! It was not funny to Stephen--then. He read it, and he read it
again, and finally he walked over to the window, still holding it in his
hand.
Some mothers would have shown their curiosity. Mrs. Brice did not,
wherein she proved herself their superiors in the knowledge of mankind.
Stephen stood for a long while looking out into the gathering dusk. Then
he went over to the fireplace and began tearing the note into little
bits. Only once did he pause, to look again at his name on the envelope.
"It is an invitation to Miss Carvel's party," he said.
By Thursday of that week the Brices, with thanksgiving in their hearts,
had taken possession of Mr. Brinsmade's little house. _