Kate Felton; or, A peep at realities

Front matter

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA,

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Chapter I. Starting on a Journey 1

“ II. Journeyings. — Two opposites meet .... 8

“ III. The Arrival. — Susan Wilkins 24

“ IY. The Squatters 51

“ Y. The Party 75

“ VI. A Ludicrous Scene 84

“ VII. The Walk. — The Offer 87

“ VIII. The Expected come not. — Little Dora . . . 109

“ IX. Pleasant Results of Kind Efforts . . . . . 124

“ X. An Old Friend discovered 145

“ XI. Aunt Pattie. — Emigration 162

XII. Little Dora’s Father 173

“ XIII. The Visit. — Cousin Joe 187

“ XIV. Change of Fortune 201

“ XV. Carrie meets an Old Friend 211

“ XVI. A Pleasant Home 224

“ XVII. A Laughable Adventure 235

“ XVIII. Aunt Pattie’s Reception of the Bride ... 250

“ XIX. The Thunder Storm 260

M

CONTENTS.

Page

Chapter XX. Those long separated meet again ... .274

“ XXI. The Haughty Invalid 283

“ XXII. A Friend worth having 297

“ XXIII. Two Happy Hearts. — Susan’s Perplexity . . 313

* “ XXIY. Smiles take the place of Sadness. — Mrs. Upton 326

“ XXY. The Cottage Home 343

“ XXYI. Disappointment of the Bridal Parties .... 355

“ XXYIII. Brother John’s Yisit. — Susan’s Offering . . 398

“ XXIX. One more Yisit to Virginia 413

“ XXX. Carrie realizes a long-anticipated pleasure . . 423

“ XXXI. Kate in her New Home. — Conclusion . . . 435

OR,

A PEEP AT REALITIES.

CHAPTER I.

READY FOR AND STARTING UPON A JOURNEY.

“ Mother, I love you so well that I wish to be rid of your society during the remainder of this evening. You look very weary indeed ; and, unless you retire now and rest during the night, you will be unfit to encounter the fatigue of to-morrow.”

This was said pleasantly and affectionately by a young lady to her mother, whose health was extremely delicate. As she said this, she approached her, and, tenderly kissing her, offered her arm for a support, saying, —

“ Come, my dear mamma, you know I am very decided ; so it will be useless for you to oppose my plans.”

Her mother smiled, and, rising from her chair, remarked in a gentle tone, —

“ You shall have your own way about me, Kate : I think it best for me to retire early to-night ; and I hope you will soon follow me, for you are very much worn, and need rest as much as 1 do.”

Mrs. Felton then retired to her sleeping apartment, leaving the care of little matters yet to be attended to, to her daughter. Every thing was soon arranged to Kate’s satisfaction. She then seated herself in the room where her mother generally sat. She wished to take breath, and a bird’s-eye view of things as they are. It was a neat, cosy little room where Kate sat ; dear, very dear to her by association. There she had played in her infancy, there she had been dandled upon her father’s knee. That parent was now sleeping in the dust ; she felt the need of his strong arm to lean upon never more than now. Memory was very busy. In fancy she beheld his loved form, and she sighed as she thought how lonely her mother and herself had felt since he had gone. Her tears were starting unbidden ; but she wiped them hastily away, for she heard a gentle rap at the door. She arose and opened the door to admit her dearest friend, Mary Winthrop. They met as only friends can meet, — ever pleased and satisfied with each other’s society. They met and sat down together on this last evening of Kate’s present stay in her native town, to enjoy the present, not to borrow trouble for future hours.

“ You are alone, Kate,” said Mary ; “ I am glad, — selfish enough, too, to hope you will not receive another call during this evening. I want you all to myself, Kate.”

“I expect you will have it so,” replied her friend. “ Mother has gone to her chamber for the night ; most of our friends have tak^n their leave of us ; your friend Kate was sitting down just now to take counsel of her own wayward heart, which would have led her wrong, had you not come to rescue her. Don’t show your love

OR, A PEEP AT REALITIES.

for me, Mary, by making our parting painful. It is unkind to do so. We must part: but hope for me points her fairy finger to a period, a pleasant period, not very far distant, when we shall be reunited on earth ; if not (and there is nothing certain here), we can, and I trust we shall, meet in a happier land.”

“ You are ever hopeful, Kate,” said her friend ; “I will not make it hard for you to do your duty. I know you would choose to remain here, but our parting shall not be a sad one if I can help it. The only thing I dislike about your plan is the situation of the home to which you are going.”

“ Where would you have it be, Mary ? It is just where mother may enjoy firmer health ; and, even if it were farther than it is from our loved New England, I would not shrink from travelling the distance for her sake.”

“It is not the distance I complain of, Kate. If you were going to Italy’s sunny shores, I would be satisfied ; I should not feel it so great a drawback upon my comfort, as toJ;hink you are in the land where slavery is nurtured.”

“ Don’t lay this to heart ; I shall not let you. You will not love me less because my home for a time is to be at the South, will you, Mary ? I shall be your friend still.”

“But you will change, Kate; I am afraid of this* You may marry tnere too, and then we should be indeed separated.”

“Not a bit of that, Mary,” replied Kate. “You believe I love you now ; be content with that for the present. Time will show what the future has in store for us, full fast enough too. If I turn slave-driver, as your fears seem to. imply you think I shall, it will do to grieve when the fact is proved.”

“ I don’t think you will become a slave-driver, Kate ; but I do fear that you will learn to regard slavery as a trifling evil.”

“ W e know not, Mary, what we shall do until we are tried.”

“ I hate to have you tried, Kate ; to have your tongue silenced, by conventional rules, upon a subject that you have always freely discussed.”

“ I don’t expect nor intend to be trammelled in any way,” replied the lovely girl, looking at her friend with a countenance full of good humor. “ I shall express my sentiments freely, as I have ever done. I expect others to do the same by me, and I shall ask them to be frank with me. I love my whole country ; the North, South, East, and the mighty West. I mean, too, that the people inhabiting each of these regions shall love me as far as they know me.”

“ I don’t believe the people of the South will love you very much, Kate, unless you change your sentiments,” said Mary, roguishly.

“ I do,” responded the other quickly ; “ I shall make them in spite of themselves.”

“ You are a strange girl ; what does you brother think of your independent manner ? ”

“ Oh ! he gets along with it, he says, because it is I ; you know that some people must be tolerated. I expect he thinks I am of that class. You remember brother John, don’t you, Mary ? ”

*e Yes, I remember him. I have seen him several times, yet only once since his marriage. Don’t you wish, Kate, he had taken a northern lady for a wife, and lived here near you ? ”

OR, A PEEP AT REALITIES.

“ No ,” answered the other ; “ it is best as it is.”

“ It is pleasanter for your mother just now, that he lives in a warm climate,” said Mary abstractedly.

“ It is best on other accounts,” said Kate.

“ Why, do explain yourself ; I can’t see any advantage arising from such a connection.”

“ Then you don’t put on the right spectacles to look through.”

“ Then I need specs, do I, to see them ? ”

“ Certainly,” said Kate, playfully. “ Your eyes are all blurred over with prejudice ; you can’t see at all clearly without the help afforded the moral vision through the gospel.”

“ I understand you in part, but not wholly,” replied M ary.

“ Why,” said Kate, “ if all obeyed the precepts of the gospel of our Saviour, should we not feel that we belonged to one great family ; should we not love our brother as ourselves ? ”

“ What a benevolent heart you possess, my dear friend ! I wish I felt as you do.”

“ That is a very poor wish, Mary ; I wish that you and I both had much more benevolence than either ever exercised or cherished. We must press onward, Mary, and never feel satisfied with any attainment yet made.”

“ Kate, I almost wish I was going to the South with you.”

“ If I remain there you must come,” said Kate ; “ though I don’t know exactly what might be the effect of conventional rules,” she added somewhat mischiev-

“ Oh, don't ! ” said Mary ; “ I was thinking I should like to try and see if I could be an independent Christian.”

“ Why not try now, and always, wherever you are ? there is no time like the present. We don’t labor to improve it half enough, at least I don’t.”

“ Your gifts are different from mine, Kate ,* you can speak when I should not know what to say. Besides, I am unfortunate in giving offence. I do not make myself clearly understood.”

“ I understand you, Mary. You must not excuse yourself from duty that is not pleasant, but make your influence for good felt as far as you may. We cannot be neutral ; we cannot stand still. We are retrograding or advancing always.”

Mary sighed.

“ I shall lose a counsellor when you go.”

“ You will have a better Friend left near you.”

“ That is true : still you are my best earthly friend, Kate. I have been an orphan ever since my remembrance ; and your love, as it has ever been manifested towards me, is among the earliest and sweetest recollections of my childhood.”

“ I love to think you have reciprocated the affection I have cherished towards you ; it will be a darling thought to carry to my southern home.”

(i I don’t love to think of your having a home so far from me.”

“ Don’t think of it ; we shall be together in spirit every day.”

It was late ere these friends retired to rest. They chatted long. Mary spent the night with Kate, that she

OR, A PEEP AT REATITIES.

might see her friends start upon their journey early in the morning. Mrs. Felton arose very early, feeling greatly refreshed by the quiet rest she had enjoyed. Kate had rested somewhat more than Mary ; but, though sad at heart, Mary had a pleasant smile upon her face. For her friend’s sake, she would be cheerful. She accompanied them to the depot, and remained until the cars were ready to start. Tears filled the eyes of the trio, but they were not allowed to flow. Other friends came to take a parting look, and give a parting hand to both mother and daughter.

When the moment arrived for parting, an affectionate pressure of the hand, and a hurried injunction to write soon, were all that passed between Kate and her friend Mary.

Chapter II

JOTJRNEYINGS. TWO OPPOSITES MEET.

The iron horse that was to convey our friends a portion of their way sped rapidly over the track. It was not pleasant for Mrs. Eelton to sit in a car crowded with persons of every character and description. Kate felt this, and strove to interest her, and divert her mind from disagreeables by placing something pleasant before her. Possessing a keen sense of the ludicrous herself, she found quite enough to beguile the tediousness of the way in her fellow-travellers. It seemed to her that circumstances had contrived to throw more in her way that was laughable on that morning than ever before. Some, however, would have fretted and frowned and fidgetted, or done any thing but smile and feel amused at what pleased Kate. After sitting for a time silently observing what was passing around her, she asked her mother in a low tone if she did not like to take such a peep at the world once in a while, so as to see things a little as they are.

" I like to see the brightest part of it, Kate,” replied Mrs. Eelton ; “not those portions that are darkened by arrogance and pride, — I don’t even like to think of those.”

“Well,” said Kate, “ we’ve a specimen of what you would avoid in close proximity to us, you see.”

UI am but too well aware of that,” responded her mother.

OR, A PEEP AT REALITIES.

“ Mother, do you suppose that haughty lady who appears to be the mother of that little girl is really afraid that the child who sits near her will contaminate her darling if their clothes happened to touch ? ”

“ She acts as if she thought so, certainly,” said Mrs. Felton ; “ just study her countenance.”

“ I have for some time,” said Kate ; “ but I can see but little expression, none in fact but hauteur admirably set off with self-complacency. The little girl she is so afraid of does not appear to understand her at all; see how wonderingly the child regards her ladyship, — or being-ship I ought to say, for such an one as she should not be called a lady. I am going to speak to this plainly dressed child now ; she looks sad, and I should like to know something about her.”

One of the passengers had just moved, so Kate could sit down beside the little girl ; she did so, and with a smile of sympathy and kindness said to her, —

“ My dear, I have not seen you speak to any one since you came into the car ; haven’t you any friends with you ? ”

“No, ma’am.”

“ Then you must feel lonesome,” said Kate, “ don’t you ? ”

“ Yes, ma’am, I have been thinking that it was very lonesome here among all these people, and I wished that little girl would only just speak tome,” — glancing at the said child at the moment.

On hearing this, the little girl’s mother looked unutterable things, but did not speak. The child went on, —

“ I am going to see my father at the next stopping l* place, and he is going to Albany with me. I hope you will stay in the car till father gets in,” she added with rather a quizzical expression of countenance.

“ I expect I shall, and much longer than that,” answered Kate ; “ but why do you wish it ? ”

“ Oh ! because,” — and the child hesitated and looked confused.

“ Don’t be afraid to speak, dear; say just what you wish to.”

The little girl looked up, smiled, and said in a low tone of voice, —

“ I feel as if you cared for me, although you do not know me.”

“ I do care for you, my child ; and I should have spoken to you before, only I could not then get near enough.”

“ You are very good to me,” she answered; “and you are a lady, too. Aunt Abby told me to be very quiet, for I was not dressed well enough to be noticed by any but good people.”

i( What is the matter with your dress, dear ? Iam sure it is neat and becoming.”

“ But auntie said it wasn’t rich, — it would show people that my father was poor.”

“ What if he is ? He is a good father, isn’t he ? ”

“ O yes, ma’am, a dear good father ; I love him dearly. I did my mamma, too, when she was here ; but she is dead now.”

The child’s lip quivered. She could hardly articulate the last words ere the tears streamed down her cheeks. Kate was moved almost to tears herself. She put her arm affectionately around her little friend, and with her other

OF, A PEEr AT REALITIES.

hand took from her travelling basket some confectionery and gave her. She then offered some to the daughter of the haughty lady who sat next to her 'protege. The little girl looked at her mother for leave to take it, and then accepted it. Kate had been much amused by observing that lady’s scrutinizing glances at herself, after she sat down near her. It was plain she was satisfied that Kate was a lady : but it was not as plain that she felt rebuked for the proud, unchristian airs she had assumed towards that unprotected child ; for she had neither head nor heart enough to feel this. She satisfied herself, however, that Kate’s dress and manners gave her a passport to class number one. “ She belongs to my set,” thought she ; u I will take some notice of that child, since she is so free with her.” And the proud one vouchsafed to ask the little one if she was tired.

“No, ma’am, not now,” replied the little girl, modestly, and then turned her head in another direction, as if fearful she might speak to her again. Like all children, she was a shrewd observer of character ; and she had felt, as well as seen, the difference between Kate and the woman of fashion. This was felt, too, by the person herself. Though Kate Felton was little more than twenty years of age, she was very dignified ; and to dignity was added a modest independence, a straightforwardness of purpose and action, that seldom failed to insure her the respect of those she met, even upon a very short acquaintance. On this occasion, her fellow-traveller, who has more than once been alluded to, regarded her as a person worthy of notice, and began a conversation with her. At first, it was commonplace, but very soon became interesting to both parties. Kate was a person calculated to draw out the character of even the most reserved. In one sense of the word she was non-committal ; still she was frankhearted and ingenuous, never allowing herself to cherish sentiments she might not on some occasion express with propriety.

Her new acquaintance felt no little curiosity to learn something of her history. Thus far she had seemed a puzzle to her. Was she rich ? married or single ? where was she going ? — were questions that arose in the lady’s mind. That she was handsome was a self-evident fact. That she was richly dressed, and accustomed to such dress, was also evident. Why Kate seemed so interested in a plainly dressed, lonely child, she could not discover. ~No wonder ! She had not the key to this : she needed a heart. On learning that Kate and her mother were on their way to Virginia, where they were to spend the remainder of autumn and the approaching winter, she told Kate she envied her.

“ Why,” asked Kate, “ don’t you like the North as well?”

“ On some accounts I do ; yet one has the privilege of so many servants at the South, that it makes a residence there delightful.”

“ I cannot agree with you in that,” Kate answered, hardly able to restrain her risibility. “ I think we can have servants enough in dear New England to make life pleasant to any rational being. I don’t admire a great retinue of servants.”

“ You are not in the habit of waiting upon yourself, I conclude ? ”

OR, A PEEP AT REALITIES.

“ Yes, I am ; I often wait upon myself from choice, — not always. I have ever had it in my power to do as I chose.”

“ I never wish to do that for myself that I can have a servant do for me,” was the reply.

“ Then,” observed Kate, rather dryly, “it is a mercy to yourself that your home is at the North.”

Here the conversation was interrupted by the stopping of the cars, and the consequent egress and ingress of passengers. The little girl’s father entered, much to the child’s gratification. Kate thought he did indeed appear like a dear good father, as the child had said. The father and daughter had not met for a long time, and both found it difficult to control their feelings at seeing each other. The gentleman was the most successful of thS two. It was sometime before the little girl could say much. She sat still, holding her father’s hand ; weeping very silently, though not sadly.

Kate had heard an individual say to him, just as he entered the cars, “ Good bye, doctor ! ” so she concluded he was a physician ; but a moment’s study of his fine open face assured her that he did not belong to the class called quacks. His appearance showed him to be a person in straightened circumstances. His dress was scrupulously neat ; but his coat was well-nigh threadbare, although made of fine cloth. He had the air and manners of a person used to good society, with which was mingled a shade of diffidence. Kate’s thoughts were busy. She loved to study human nature. A different arrangement had been made, by the moving of several passengers, which brought Mrs. Felton, Kate, her little friend, the gentleman referred to, the fashionable lady and her daughter, into one neighborhood. The last-mentioned lady seemed annoyed at this state of things, nevertheless it must be endured. She regarded the threadbare gentleman with an expression of contempt.

“ Now,” thought she, “ this pitiful-looking child will not receive any more of this lady’s attention.”

She was mistaken, however ; for no sooner had the cars become quiet, than Kate congratulated the child upon meeting her father. Then, in a low whisper, she asked, —

“ Whom should you thank, dear, for bringing your father and yourself together again ? ”

The little girl smiled, and, looking thoughtfully into the face of her friend, replied, —

“ My mamma would say, God.”

“ I am glad, dear, that you remember so well what she used to say. Be sure and remember it always.”

“ I hope I shall,” said the child, her eyes swimming in tears.

The father looked at his little girl as if he would know the cause of her emotion.

“ Father,” said she, “ I was not lonely mueh of the way before you came in here ; for this lady was very good to me.”

At this Kate smiled ; and the gentleman, bowing politely, expressed his gratitude for her kindness.

“ I have done nothing to merit such an acknowledgment on your part,” said Kate. “ It was a pleasure to chat with your little daughter. I only regret, that, during the first part of our journey, we were separated by too great a

OR, A PEEP AT REALITIES.

distance to admit of my speaking to her. I wished to, for I felt she was lonely. ”

“ Some persons do not think as much of the feelings of others,” replied the gentleman, with an expression of admiration in his countenance, as he looked at the interesting individual who had addressed him.

“ I don’t envy such their feelings,” said Kate. “ I think by far the greatest part of one’s own happiness is derived from the thought that they are making others happy.”

“ Your own happiness, I should judge, was enhanced by doing good,” responded the other. “ Yet such cases are not common in the world ; at least, I have found that selfishness has a wider sway than disinterested benevolence.”

“ The world has not yet learned to love its neighbor as itself,” said Mrs. Felton, who had been wishing for a favorable opportunity to address the stranger.

His manly bearing, his broad, intellectual forehead, and high-toned moral expression, delighted her. A shade of sadness was blended with all this, that gave an additional interest to his appearance.

The gay woman of fashion did not see aught in this plainly dressed child of misfortune and genius to admire. She wondered at her fellow-travellers for compromising their dignity in such a manner. For aught they knew, she thought, there might be within hearing those whom they should hereafter meet in their own circle ; and to think of having first been seen talking on familiar terms wfith such shabbiness, — she was not going to run any such risk, no, not she. So, if at any time while conversing he had looked at her, as if expecting she might make some remark, she scornfully repulsed such rudeness. Why shouldn’t she ? — she belonged to the society of exclusives. It never for a moment occurred to her, that the good and great might wish to exclude her from their society, were it not for the apostolic injunction, “Be courteous.” During a short pause which followed the remark of Mrs. Felton, our gay friend said to Kate, —

“ I wonder why you think it a mercy that my home is not at the South.”

Kate smiled, and answered, “ Because I think you might expect too much of your servants.”

The lady was evidently chagrined at this reply.

“ Why do you think so ? ” asked she.

“ Because you told me just now that you did not like to wait upon yourself; and, knowing that it is not good for any one in health to have all their wants attended to by others, I felt it would be a misfortune to you to be situated as you might be at the South.”

“ Would you have everyone become a drudge ?” inquired the lady, rather indignantly.

“Not by any means,” replied Kate. “I don’t love to see any one working over hard ; and I don’t love to know that any one is very tired.”

“ Either in spirit or body,” said the gentleman, “ I suppose.”

“Neither,” said Kate. “ Spirit weariness has almost always my sympathy ; — always, if produced in a laudable way.”

“ By exertion, I conclude you mean,” said the other, with a meaning look.”

OR, A PEEP AT REALITIES.

IT

“ I do.”

“ Are you always busy yourself ? ” asked the lady traveller, turning to Kate.

“ I generally try to be,” replied she. “ I don’t feel satisfied with myself unless I am doing something.”

“ You rest sometimes, don’t you ? ” asked the other.

“ Certainly : that is doing something right. When one is weary, duty bids us pause then. But, to speak plainly, I do not like inertness and sloth. I love to have people employed, — it keeps them out of mischief.”

“ Yet,” said the lady, “ it is not necessary for all to labor. Some are born rich ; of course, their circumstances preclude the necessity of doing any thing.”

<c 1 think differently. There is, there can be, no condition that precludes the necessity of labor. If a man has had a silver spoon put into his hand by his father, he can have no right to be content with just feeding himself with it. A person who does this, in my opinion, however full his coffers may be, is not entitled to one-half the respect that the industrious man may claim, however poor. I respect effort : it makes character.”

“ Do you respect a man more that is rich for having acquired his riches ? ”

“ 1 do, — more than the indolent man, be he ever so rich.”

“ I presume,” said the gentleman, addressing Kate, with an unassuming manner, “ that you are far from despising that class who are striving to acquire wealth and distinction from a sense of duty.”

“ Indeed I am ; even when such persons have only planted their feet on the first round of the ladder that leads to influence and honor.”

“ The aspirant for goodness and greatness will not have obstacles thrown in his way by my daughter/’ said Mrs. Felton. “ I trust she will ever fulfil her mission as a woman, to encourage and cheer onward all who have taken the first step in the glorious pathway to future usefulness. That path is a thorny one, sometimes ; and its travellers often need the smiles of the virtuous, to keep them from despondency.”

Our proud ]ady looked as if she had no sympathy with this subject, and with manifest pleasure hailed the sight of the city, to which the company were rapidly advancing. Here they were to separate.