gentleness and innocence about her which was very touching, and which the two young men did not fail to remark.
“You are very late, miss!” cried Mrs. Gann, who affected not to know what had caused her daughter’s delay. “You are always late!” and the elder girls stared and grinned at each other knowingly, as they always did when mamma made such attacks upon Caroline, who only kept her eyes down upon the table-cloth, and began to eat her dinner without saying a word.
“Come, come, my dear,” cried honest Gann, “if she _is_ late, you know why! Our Carrie has been downstairs making the pudding for her old pappy; and a good pudding she makes, I can tell you!”
Miss Caroline blushed more deeply than ever; Mr. Fitch stared her full in the face; Mrs. Gann said “Nonsense!” and “Stuff!” very majestically; Mr. Brandon alone interposed in Caroline’s favour; and the words that he said were so kindly, so inspiring to Caroline that she cared not a straw whatever else might be said about her. “Mamma may say what she pleases to-day,” thought Caroline. “I am too happy to be made angry by her.”
But poor little mistaken Caroline did not know how soon her feelings were to be harassed again beyond endurance. The dinner had not advanced much further, when Miss Isabella, who had been examining Caroline curiously for some time, telegraphed across the table to Miss Linda, and nodded and winked, and pointed to her own neck, on which was a smart necklace of the lightest blue glass beads finishing in a neat tassel. Linda had a similar ornament of a vermilion colour, whereas Caroline wore a handsome new collar and a brooch, which looked all the smarter for the shabby frock over which they were placed. As soon as she saw her sister’s signals the poor little thing blushed deeply again; down went her eyes once more, and her face and neck lighted up to the colour of Miss Linda’s sham cornelian.
“What’s the gals giggling and oggling about?” asked Mr. Gann innocently.
“What is it, my darling love?” asked stately Mrs. Gann.
“Why, don’t you see, Ma?” said Linda. “Look at Miss Carrie! I’m blessed if she hasn’t got on Becky’s collar and brooch, that Sims the pilot gave her!”
The young ladies fell back in uproarious fits of laughter, and laughed all the time that their mamma was declaring her daughter’s conduct unworthy a gentlewoman, and bidding her leave the room and take off those disgraceful ornaments.
There was no need to tell her; the poor little thing gave one piteous look at her father, who was whistling, and seemed indeed to think the matter a good joke; and after she had managed to open the door down she went to the kitchen, and when she reached that humble place of refuge first pulled off Becky’s collar and brooch, and then flung herself into the arms of that honest maid, where she cried and cried till she brought on the first fit of hysterics that ever she had had.
This crying could not at first be heard in the parlour, where the company were roaring at the excellence of the joke, but presently the laughter died away, and the sound of weeping came from the kitchen below. This the young artist could not bear, but bounced up from his chair and rushed out of the room, exclaiming, “By Jove, it’s too bad!”
From the scene of merriment he rushed forth and out of the house into the dark, wet streets, fired with one impulse, inspired by one purpose:–to resist the tyranny of Mrs. Gann towards poor Caroline; to protect the gentle girl from the injustice of which she was the victim. All his sympathies from that moment were awakened in Caroline’s favour.
As for Mr. Brandon, whom Caroline in the depths of her little silly heart had set down for the wondrous fairy prince who was to deliver her from her present miserable condition, he was a man to whom opposition acted ever as a spur. Up to this time he had given little or no thought to the young girl with the pale face and quiet manner, but now he was amused, and his interest was awakened by the indignation of Mr. Fitch. He was piqued also by the system of indifference to his charms indulged in by Caroline’s older sisters, and determined to revenge himself upon them for their hardness of heart by devotion to Caroline. As he wrote in a letter that very day: “I am determined through a third daughter, a family Cinderella, to make her sisters _quiver_ with envy. I merely mean fun, for Cinderella is but a little child…. I wish I had paper enough to write you an account of a Gann dinner at which I have just assisted, and of a scene which there took place; and how Cinderella was dressed out, not by a fairy, but by a charitable kitchen maid, and was turned out of the room by her indignant mamma for appearing in the maid’s finery….”
This, and much more, Mr. Brandon, who at once turned his attention to being excessively kind and polite to our humble Cinderella. Caroline, being a most romantic little girl, and having read many novels, depicted Brandon in a fancy costume such as her favourite hero wore, or fancied herself as the heroine, watching her knight go forth to battle. Silly fancies, no doubt; but consider the poor girl’s age and education; the only instruction she had ever received was from these tender, kind-hearted, silly books; the only happiness which fate had allowed her was in this little silent world of fancy. It would be hard to grudge the poor thing her dreams; and many such did she have, and tell blushingly to honest Becky as they sat by the kitchen fire, while indignation was growing apace in the breasts of her mother and sisters at the sight of so much interest centred on so poor an object. And even so did the haughty sisters of Cinderella the First feel and act.
But Cinderella’s kitchen days were fast drawing to an end, even as she, a pale slip of a girl, was budding into womanhood.
One evening Mrs. Gann and the Misses McCarty had the honour of entertaining Mr. Swigby at tea, and that gentleman, in return for the courtesy shown him by Mrs. Gann, invited the young ladies and their mamma to drive with him the next day into the country; for which excursion he had hired a very smart barouche. The invitation was not declined, and Mr. Fitch, too, was asked, and accepted with the utmost delight. “Me and Swigby will go on the box,” said Gann. “You four ladies and Mr. Fitch shall go inside. Carrie must go between; but she ain’t very big.”
“Carrie, indeed, will stop at home!” said her mamma. At this poor Fitch’s jaw fell; he had agreed to accompany the party only for the pleasure of being in the company of little Caroline, nor could he escape now, having just accepted so eagerly.
“Oh, don’t let’s have that proud Brandon!” exclaimed the young ladies, in consequence of which that gentleman was not invited to join the excursion.
The day was bright and sunshiny. Poor Caroline, watching the barouche and its load drive off, felt that it would have been pleasant to have been a lady for once, and to have driven along in a carriage with prancing horses. The girl’s heart was heavy with disappointment and loneliness as she stood at the parlour window, watching the vehicle disappear from sight.
Oh, mighty Fate, that over us miserable mortals rulest supreme, with what small means are thy ends effected! With what scornful ease and mean instruments does it please thee to govern mankind! Mr. Fitch accompanied the Gann family on their drive to the country; Mr. Brandon remained behind.
Caroline, too, the Cinderella of this little tale, was left at home; and thereby were placed in the hand of Fate all necessary instruments of revenge to be used in the punishment of Mrs. Gann and the Misses McCarty for their ill-treatment of our little Cinderella.
The story of Caroline Brandenburg Gann’s youth is told. The fairy prince is at hand, and the short chapter of girlhood and misery is finished.