Louisa Van Benthusen. A novel

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

Introduction

When I began to write this story I did not dream of making a book. But, as I wrote, my thoughts came so rapidly, and they were so many and so varied, that before I was fairly aware of the fact I had reached a point beyond that at which I had aimed, and when done, I found that I had written a book.

Should my writings, with all their imperfections, be well received, I cannot deny that it will be a source of purest gratification to me. Although I do not aspire to those high honors which are the rewards of lofty intellects, yet it is the sincerest wish of my heart to secure some little, humble corner in the good opinion and kind feelings of my own American people.

I am only a looker-on upon the world’s stage, and yet as an artist scans with critical eye the scene before him, and then cautiously and carefully traces on his canvas the outlines of some beautiful landscape, so have I keenly observed and traced out in word-pictures the lives of many people, contrasting their different manners, dispositions and natures, and then I have woven them together in this simple connection. The

INTRODUCTION.

narrative is founded upon facts drawn from real life, to show its many ups and downs in various spheres.

Herein is shown the broad expanding space, existing between the inward and outward friendships ; also, the result of giving up the heart, mind and soul to selfish motives, which, in the end, bring the destruction of hopes and everlasting sorrow.

If the full meaning can be traced out as is intended, it will illustrate to the reader the true inward condition of the fashionable society of a modern American city.

Not, however, unconscious of my inability to do full justice to an undertaking that a wiser head and abler pen might well portray, yet I send this little volume out into the world, hoping that it may win for itself and the author what earnest endeavor ever receives from a discriminating public.

M. L. H.

Chapter I. Commencement

H OW beautiful !” “ How pure and sweet she looks !” were remarks made by many as they beheld a tableau of perfect loveliness standing before them.

It was commencement night at the Benson Academy ; an event which occurred in the early part of June in each year. The large and magnificent Hall was handsomely decorated with evergreens, wild vines and a profusion of beautiful flowers. Banners lettered with gold were artistically displayed and attracted the eye of every one of the many parents, relatives and friends, who gathered within those spacious walls, which on every side bore words of welcome and cheer. The stage was a perfect bed of green. At each end stood a massive white vase filled with the choicest flowers and ferns, while drooping from them in abundance were a profusion of trailing vines.

Commencement is a never-to-be-forgotten event in the lives of those who have slowly, but steadfastly, climbed the ladder of learning, and have at last in triumph reached this uppermost round. So it was to-night at Benson Academy, when five highly cultivated, brilliant young ladies stood, as it were, upon the threshold of life looking forth upon its opening journey. Unclouded skies above them and bright hopes within them, cheered each of their young hearts into exuberant happiness as they felt the pure and gentle influences of life in its freshness, guarded as they were by kind and loving friends, who watched over them with an intensity of interest and pride.

When the principal arose and announced the name of Louisa Van Benthusen, she swept gracefully across the stage, her rare personal beauty attracting the eye of every one present ; winning the admiration of all, and calling forth the remarks recorded at the opening of this chapter.

She was slightly built; her clear, fair skin was delicately tinted with the flush of youth ; her eyes of hazel sparkled and flashed with genius and intellect.

She wore a pure white illusion dress, beautifully and tastefully trimmed to harmonize with her delicate, but finely proportioned figure. At the side and low down on the trail drooped sprays of green leaves intermixed with loops and bows of white satin ribbon. The front of the dress was similarly arranged; short sleeves displayed an arm and hand so exquisitely formed that they would have made a model fit for the sculptor’s chisel. Her nut-brown hair hung in rich curls about her shoulders, and she looked, as she stood for a moment to receive a bouquet of pure white flowers, a radiant picture of loveliness formed

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I I in one of nature’s most perfect moulds. While reading her well-composed essay she seemed not to realize that any one was listening to the words as they fell from her lips, clear and deep, filling every heart present with tenderness and love.

Years have gone by, but the exquisite scene of that June evening will ever remain fresh and green in the golden casket of memory ; but look out into the future, and trace out the eventful life of her who was that charming girl.

She was the only child of very wealthy parents. Her mother was noted for her highly cultivated manner and her kind and affectionate disposition. Always ready to extend a sympathetic hand to the afflicted, and often beside the beds of sickness and death, she was daily seen administering comforting words to the sorrowing, or soothing the brow of the suffering ; and many a dollar found its way from her liberal, well-filled purse to keep the wolf from the door of the destitute. Besides all this, she was a lady of fashion. By her elegance and tastefulness in her dress, and by the dashing style of her equipage, she created a marked sensation at numerous parties and receptions ; and her own entertainments at home were composed of the most fashionable and select persons.

Louisa’s father was a clear-headed, quick-witted man, whose fine manner and superior intellect qualified him for the highest positions in life. In days gone by he was thoroughly captivated by the rare personal beauty and gentle disposition of Louisa’s mother, and he was married to her one charming winter evening, about the middle of December. This distinguished young couple were the admired centre of attraction for many months, and it was not until the gayety that followed their marriage was over, that they were left much alone in the quiet of their own apartments, undisturbed by callers.

William Van Benthusen walked into the drawing-room one evening, and bending over to his pretty young wife, he said : “ Now, my dear, we have this whole long evening to ourselves, away from the gay world of fashion, and I have come home early on purpose to chat with you alone. I have lived so many years in the ever-changing whirl of fashionable life, and have seen deception and sham practiced to such an extent that I long for the comforts and happiness of our own domestic hearth. Suppose, then, we go to housekeeping by ourselves.”

“Why, William, how did you happen to think of that? Wouldn’t it be just lovely ? # I dislike boarding ; it is so wearisome sometimes to me, and I have always longed for a pretty little cottage, surrounded by trees, and a nice flower garden, and lots of pretty vines up to the windows. We could have a beautiful little home, and, oh ! how very happy we would be.”

“Yes, darling,” replied the affectionate husband, “ after all this season of gayety it would seem so restful, such a luxury to be surrounded by comforts in a home of our own. Not only for our mental facul-

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ties do I crave it, but it would benefit health as well.”

“ Indeed it will. I wish we were going to-morrow; it will be just delightful. I can almost imagine us now seated in our own little parlor. I shall be so happy. Won’t you ?”

To this question William made no reply for some minutes; his heart was so filled with joy beyond utterance to know that he had married such a wife. When, however, he looked into her face, and noticed her expressive countenance, as if about to question him why he did not reply to her remark, he said :

“ I am so happy, dear. I know that all my fond dreams can be realized, and we can enjoy every blessing.”

“ When shall I begin to make preparations ?” inquired the eager wife.

“ Just as soon as you wish, for as quick as the cold weather shall have passed away, we will remove.”

Weeks slipped hastily by, and merrily the preparations were advancing. Winter had given place to spring, but the house repairs were not yet completed, and spring-time had drifted into summer before Mr. and Mrs. Van Benthusen found themselves settled in a new home. But instead of a little cottage, as Mrs. Van Benthusen had mentioned, the new home was a large, spacious mansion, that stood on an eminence overlooking a broad sheet of water.

At one end of the house, over a long veranda, grew a woodbine which completely enveloped the

H whole in a mass of green, which was not only most beautiful to gaze upon, but which formed a cool retreat from the noonday sun. The circled drives, the summer-house, the lawns covered with their mantle of refreshing green, and two large fountains that played at either side of the walk, gave freshness to the air and beauty to the scene.

In a cozy little nook beneath the shade of a stately oak was a rustic seat. At the left a stream of sparkling water wended its way onward to the sea. Along its mossy banks wild violets and long grasses grew, and waved in the gentle breeze. At the right, and in various other parts of the extensive grounds, stood vases and mounds of bright flowers, contrasting beautifully with the green carpeted earth and the fair, blue sky. In the stable stood a span of shining black horses at their command, with other comforts that wealth only can procure and support.

The second year of their marriage they were blessed with a daughter, who was fondly cherished by both mother and father. Mr. Van Benthusen hoped that she would possess the same pure and gentle disposition that was characterized so strongly in her mother, and in this respect his hopes were not in vain.

When Louisa was about twelve years old, it was decided that they would dismiss the governess under whose careful training she had been for several years, and have her complete her education at the young ladies’ academy in the city, near which they

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*5 resided. At this excellent school she was taught all the acquirements and accomplishments that contribute to the education of a thoroughly refined lady. She had just graduated with the highest honors at the time previously mentioned, and her exquisite beauty and rare talent at that time could not help bringing forth the remarks, “ She is as fair as a lily!” “ She is perfectly lovely!” and other expressions of similar nature. All the compliments and praise that was bestowed upon her did not have any effect upon her heart, for she felt as though she ought rather to feel grateful to God for so lavishly endowing upon her such charms. She was the pet and pride of her father, who idolized her to a great extent. She was always blithe and happy, and her presence was like the sunbeams of the morning. The rich and poor she loved alike, for it was the heart she loved, and circumstances were unconsidered.

One day her mother received a call from a fashionable acquaintance, and during the conversation, was telling her that Louisa’s tastes accorded very harmoniously with her own, and that she was as ready to receive into her confidence and friendship the daughter of a poor man as the daughter of a senator, or any one of wealth and station, provided they were equally pure, “ and,” continued Mrs. Van Benthusen, “ when my dressmaker, Mrs. Scrivener, comes, Louisa is perfectly happy, visiting with her.”

“ I should think you would dislike her tastes,” replied Mrs. Snodgrass.

“ Oh, you know Mrs. Scrivener is very highly educated, and very refined in her manners, though she has been obliged through misfortune to support herself and family. Louisa thinks very much of her and often calls at her home to visit with the family/’

“ Yes,” exclaimed Louisa, “ I do love her dearly, and you know Gertrude is so pretty and good. We have such lovely times together making all kinds of fancy work, and talking over our school-day pleasures; and then her brother Charlie is just as good and kind as he can be ; he takes us out boating on the lake and out in the parks and groves; he reads to us all the books and papers he gets, while we work on our tidies and fancy things, and O Mrs. Snodgrass, we have the grandest time imaginable !”

“ I have no doubt that you have fine times,” replied Mrs. Snodgrass ; “ but, ’’continued she, “ I should think that you would rather select some one whose position in life was equal to your own. Oh, dear,” and she drew a long sigh, “ I am so glad I have no children to bring up, for I should be constantly worried at their selections of companions, lest they should choose the poor, uncultivated class.”

“ If you only knew,” answered Louisa, “ what delightful visits I have at Mrs. Scrivener’s, you would think differently of the poor. Now, when I go there, Mrs. Scrivener makes us nice suppers and sets the table out in the grove, and we are all just as happy as can be. I know I have a lovelier home than Gertrude has, and more costly dresses, and all that, but

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1 7

that has nothing to do with happiness. I can be just as happy in Mrs. Scrivener’s humble cottage as I can in the most stylish residence in the city.”

“ I suppose,” replied Mrs. Snodgrass, “ that the poor woman is very happy in her family, and may be a very fine lady, but I do not think such people ought to be tolerated in society.”

“ Yes, she is very happy, and what is more, she is contented, and does not even murmur at her lot,” replied Mrs. Van Benthusen, “ and,” continued she, “ her excellent education qualfies her for a position in life far above the ordinary, a position that would bring her children, if she had sufficient means, into society as leaders rather than as followers. What a grand thing it is to possess talent so genuine as hers. She is a born lady.”

“How came she to be reduced in circumstances? and how in the wide world did she manage to educate her children?” asked Mrs. Snodgrass.

“Well, I will tell you. Just at the time when Gertrude and Charlie were ready to enter college, the deepest affliction that could happen to any family entered in at her door, and Mr. Scrivener was taken suddenly ill and passed away, leaving them in very embarrassing circumstances. But owing to Mrs. Scrivener’s thorough education, including French, German and Latin, she was enabled herself to train Gertrude and Charlie for a good education. At length an uncle of large estate furnished sufficient means to complete their studies at college, and so

Gertrude and Louisa graduated at the same time, classmates and friends; while Charlie graduated at Harvard. No one can tell the number of long, weary hours that were spent by their mother, to help fit them for a position in life that she might feel proud of in days to come.”

“ I am quite astonished,” said Mrs. Snodgrass, “ to learn that she came from an aristocratic family. Isn’t it a shame that she should have met with reverses. For my part, I cannot see how she found time to teach her children and to take in dressmaking, besides.”

“ She used to teach them evenings,” replied Mrs. Van Benthusen.

“Well! well! such an educated dressmaker is really something rare. Still, one never knows when riches may take unto themselves wings,” added Mrs. Snodgrass.

“That is very true. I remember when Mrs. Scrivener was married, her husband, Emory Scrivener, was a fine-looking man, large-hearted and whole-souled; a most indulgent husband and loving father; honest and upright in all his dealings, and always kind to the poor. He was an intimate friend of Mr. Van Benthusen’s ; in fact, during their early boyhood and up until the time of Mr. Scrivener’s death, they were firm friends. Some months prior to his death his partner, through some mismanagement, caused their extensive business to fail, and all their elegant furniture and grand mansion were sold

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at auction. This so worked upon the mind of Mr. Scrivener that, as I said before, he fell completely prostrate under the shock and died, leaving scarcely enough to defray the funeral expenses and purchase the necessary comforts of life for his widow and family. But my husband helped her transact all her business, thus securing more for her than she otherwise would have been able to retain. Proud-spirited as she was, she would not accept a cent she had not earned, and that is how she came to take in dressmaking, at which she succeeded well.”

“ How many strange things happen. It is useless to count on anything only from one day to another,” said Mrs. Snodgrass.

“ No, we never know what is going to happen until it comes,” replied Mrs. Van Benthusen, ‘‘and troubles never come singly.”

“ That is so, but there is no kind of sense in fretting about such things ; or, as the old saying is, never cross the bridge until you get there. If we are always mourning over the misfortunes of others we will be miserable ourselves. When persons are poverty stricken, they should not expect to go out in society. Position is everything nowadays, and I must say, that if Louisa was a daughter of mine, I should forbid any further friendship to spring up between her and the son and daughter of a common dressmaker. Any one, with any eyes at all, can readily see there is an attachment now existing between Charlie and Louisa. Why, he is really quite devoted to her, now.”"

“ I do not think there is anything very serious in their devotion for each other,” said Mrs. Van- Benthusen.

“ I would put a stop to it if I were in your place. Such attachments are oftentimes dangerous,” replied Mrs. Snodgrass, forcibly.

“ Why ?” asked Mrs. Van Benthusen.

“ Because, you know, it will soon be noticed, and how would you like to have our society remarking that the poor Mr. Scrivener is waiting upon the charming Louisa Van Benthusen. How that would grate upon refined ears, to be sure!”

Mrs. Snodgrass, who has made herself so prominent just here, is the wife of a wealthy Southerner, and thinks of nothing but style. She was a poor girl previous to her marriage with Mr. Snodgrass. It was such a new feature in her life to occupy a place in society so much beyond anything that she had realized in years gone by, that oftentimes she would make herself ridiculous in company by her vain remarks. And yet she had not been idle, for by close observation and keenness, she had studied human nature to a great extent, and although it took her some time to work her way up into society, she finally succeeded, and now the doors of the most aristocratic are thrown open for her to enter ; and though she was from a poor, hard-working family herself, she has very little compassion for those that ask alms from her, and very frequently turns them from her door with abusive and angry words.

SOCIETY AS IT IS.

After Mrs. Snodgrass had gone, Louisa returned to the room, and said :

“ Mother, I do not like Mrs. Snodgrass very much. She does not love my dear friends because they are now poor, and she wants to cut me off from their company.”

“ Why, Louisa, dear, she always seems to think so much of you, and I suppose she thinks it is for your own good that she says these things.”

“I know, mother. But she thinks we are so wealthy and that makes the difference. She does not like poor people. If we were as poor as Mrs. Scrivener, then, she would not love us, either.”

“ Do not judge, dear child, without compassion or charity, for I think, although Mrs. Snodgrass is a strange person in many respects, yet she means to be kind, but she is so completely carried away with dress and fashion, just as that class of people always are, that she does not use the judgment that she is capable of exercising.”

“ I am sorry, mother dear; but, indeed, I cannot help thinking she is unkind at heart ; and if she is, some day, perhaps, she may have occasion to reflect on her past actions. I do not think a person ever can live and prosper with such unkind feelings in the heart. Do you ?”

“ No, my child, they generally are punished in some way ; but there is much unreality in life the world over, and society is filled with deception, and those that look closely, can discern it very plainly.”

Chapter II. The Surprise

“/^OOD evening, Gertrude,” said Maria Under-

\JT wood, as she opened the door and walked into the neat little sitting-room where Mrs. Scrivener and Gertrude sat finishing off Fannie Schaydell’s rose-tinted satin dress, that she was having made to wear to Louisa Van Benthusen’s party the following evening.

“ Good evening, Maria ; we were just speaking of you. You know the old saying is ‘Talk of the angels, and you will hear the rustling of their wings/ and I believe it must be so,” said Gertrude.

“ Just as you say. I just came in for a few moments, to inquire if you were going to attend the party to-morrow night.”

“ Oh, yes; I shall certainly go, for I promised I would.”

“ That is right. I hope it will be a fine night. Don’t you?”

“ Of course I do. Come, Maria, take off your hat, and stay the evening.”

“ No, I must go home, for mother is not very well, and I told her I would not stay long.”

“Then I will not urge you, much as I would like to have you stay.”

“ I would like to stay very much ; but I’ll be in often by and by.”

“ Did you know that Louisa’s cousin, Mr. Morrison, and a college friend of his, a Mr. Goodes, from Cincinnati, are to be there, besides friends from various other places ? We will have a delightful time, and I shall hope to meet you there. You are going, of course ?” said Gertrude.

“ Yes, I shall attend, unless something unusual happens to prevent, and as far as I can see now, there will nothing occur,” replied Maria; “so you will undoubtedly see me.”

“ Louisa told me you were going to sing, and I was so glad, for a fine voice is always an attraction,” said Gertrude, “ and I have great faith in your voice, and I know you will do splendidly. You always have acquitted yourself with credit, and I know you will this time.”

“ Thank you, Gertrude. I know that a compliment from you is from your heart, and I know you would not say what you did not mean.”

“ You are welcome, Maria. I meant it all, and more too. But let me thank you for your estimation of me.”

“ You are welcome,” replied Maria, at the same moment turning around as if to go, when she saw something new lying upon the bed in the next room, and advancing toward the open door, she asked, “ Is this your dress ?”

“Yes,” replied Gertrude.

“ How very handsome it is.”

“ Do you think so ?”

“ I do.”

“ Nothing elegant, you see, but the only thing I could get that would be suitable for the occasion, and not very expensive.”

“ It is beautiful. You could not have selected anything prettier. I always did admire this shade of pale blue so much, and the white illusion, and these little clusters of pink rosebuds make it look just lovely. I am sure Mr. Morrison, if he has good taste, cannot help admiring you.”

“But, Maria; just think, there will be so many others, dressed so much grander than anything I can afford, that in all probability he will be attracted to the side of some heiress, and he will never see me at all among such a large gathering.”

“ Oh, yes, he will.”

“ I guess not.”

“ I know he will,” insisted Maria.

“ Well, we will see,” responded Gertrude.

“ All right !”

“What are you going to wear? You have not told me yet. Something pretty, I warrant.”

“ I took my lemon-tinted silk down to Madame Du Cheyes yesterday, and she is trimming it with white satin and Spanish lace. Then I shall just wear my diamond ornaments to complete my costume.”.

“ That will look handsome. I expect every one will be dressed in the height of fashion, for it is to be the event of the season. There are something like three hundred invitations out, I believe.”

“ I did not think there were so many as that. Still, I knew there were a great many. Then, of course, we must all look as well as we can,” said Maria.

“ Louisa says Mr. Goodes is passionately fond of music and singing, and your voice will charm him, I know,” said Gertrude.

“ Then there will be a stranger for each of us,” said Maria, jestingly, and a merry laugh filled the room ; but it was almost immediately silenced by a loud ring at the door-bell. Maria at once bid good night, and departed before Mrs. Scrivener arose to answer the summons. Before she reached the hall the bell was pulled again, and upon opening the door a large, heavy-built, fine-looking gentleman, with long, black beard, sprinkled over here and there with a little gray, entered the room. A keen, dark, expressive eye met her own as he looked into her face, and said :

“ I believe I address Mrs. Scrivener. Do I not ?”

“ You do,” replied the lady. “ Please be seated,” added she, at the same time offering him a chair.

He accepted the offered seat, and after a few moments’ pause, remarked :

“ I guess you do not recognize me, Mrs. Scrivener.”

“ No, I really do not recollect ever having seen you before. I think you must be mistaken, and it is some other lady by the same name, that you are in search of.”

“ You are a widow, are you not?”

“ Yes.”

“ And have two grown children ?”

“ Yes.”

“ Then I have made no mistake. Do you not remember me ?” inquired the gentleman.

“ I do not.”

“Well ! Well ! You have quite forgotten me, I see ; but I cannot wonder at it, for I have changed a great deal.”

“ I am quite interested to know who you are. Do tell me,” said the pretty lady, resolving to push her investigation a little closer, having now become quite inquisitive.

“ Well, I am none other than your husband’s brother, John Scrivener, who went to California twenty years ago to-day, when Gertrude was only a little infant in your arms.”

“ Is it possible ?” cried Mrs. Scrivener, scarcely waiting for him to finish his remarks, as she advanced and grasped his hand, and shaking it cordially, said : “ And this is brother John, whom we all mourned over as dead. How you have changed. I never would have known that you were the delicate young man that left us twenty years ago.”

“ If you doubt my identity, just let me give you a short sketch of my history, which will be sufficient evidence that I am your brother.”

“ I do not doubt your word in the least, but I would like to hear all you would say,” replied Mrs. Scrivener.

“ Oh, yes, do tell us,” chimed in Gertrude and Charlie, at the same time.

“ You remember what a lovely, bright day it was when I started for the great West — just such a day as this has been — how much it has reminded me of it.”

“Just such another. I remember it very distinctly,” replied Mrs. Scrivener.

“ Well, you remember, of course, I asked brother Emory to loan me, until I could return it, the sum of five hundred dollars. You gave your consent as willingly as though it had been but a single dollar I had asked. How surprised I was when he came home that evening to tea, and handed me a check for a thousand dollars, with these words : ‘ There,

John, take this as a little token of respect from me, and unless I or mine should ever meet with misfortunes, so that they will need assistance, you need not return it. You have always been good and kind to help me in my business, and also about the house, and been so good to the children and my wife, that I only wish I could spare more for you ;