Home Lights and Shadows

"I don't know why you should wish to confine me down to the house. Mary Halloran goes and comes when she pleases."

"Mary Halloran is in the street a great deal too much. I am far from wishing to see you imitate her example."

"But what harm is there in it, mother?"

"A great deal, Jane. It gives idle habits, and makes the mind dissatisfied with the more sober duties of life."

"I am too young for the sober duties of life," said Jane, rather pertly.

"That is, doubtless, one of your friend Mary's sentiments; and it is worthy of her."

This was true, and Jane did not deny it.

"Go now," said Mrs. Leland, with much sobriety of manner. "But remember that I disapprove of this gadding about, and object to its continuance. I should be very sorry to have your father know to what extent you are carrying it."

Jane went out and called for Mary, and the two young ladies made a few calls, and then walked the streets until dinner time; not, however, alone, but accompanied by a dashing young fellow, who had been introduced to Mary a few evenings before, and now made bold to follow up the acquaintance, encouraged by a glance from the young lady's bright, inviting eyes.

Mrs. Leland, in the mean time, felt unhappy. Her daughter was changing, and the change troubled her. The intimacy formed with Mary Halloran, it was clear, was doing her no good, but harm. By this time, too, she had noticed some things in the mother that were by no means to her taste. There was a coarseness, vulgarity and want of delicacy about her, that showed itself more and more every day, traits of character particularly offensive to Mrs. Leland, who was a woman of refined sentiments. Besides, Mrs. Halloran's conversation involved topics neither interesting nor instructing to her neighbors; and often of a decidedly objectionable kind. In fact, she liked her less and less every day, and felt her too frequently repeated visits as an annoyance; and though "Why don't you come in to see me oftener?" was repeated almost daily, she did not return more than one out of every half dozen calls she received.

"I've seen Jane in the street with that Mary Halloran no less than three times this week," said Mr. Leland, one day, "and on two of these occasions there was a beau accompanying each of the young ladies."

"She goes out too often, I know," returned Mrs. Leland seriously. "I have objected to it several times, but the girl's head seems turned with that Mary Halloran. I do wish she had never known her."

"So do I, from my heart. We knew what she was, and never should have permitted Jane to make her acquaintance, if it had been in our power to prevent it."

"It is too late now, and can't be helped."

"Too late to prevent the acquaintance, but not too late to prevent some of the evil consequences likely to grow out of such an improper intimacy, which must cease from the present time."

"It will be a difficult matter to break it off now."

"No matter how difficult it may be, it must be done. The first step toward it you will have to make, in being less intimate with the mother, whom I like less and less the oftener I meet her."

"That step, so far as I am concerned, has already been taken. I have ceased visiting Mrs. Halloran almost entirely; but she is here just as often, and sadly annoys me. I dislike her more and more every day."

"If I saw as much in any one to object to as you see in Mrs. Halloran, I would soon make visiting a thing by no means agreeable. You can easily get rid of her intrusive familiarity if you think proper."

"Yes, by offending her, and getting the ill-will of a low-minded unprincipled woman; a thing that no one wants."

"Better offend her than suffer, as we are likely to suffer, from a continuance of the acquaintance. Offend the mother, I say, and thus you get rid of the daughter."

But Mrs. Leland was not prepared for this step, yet. From having been fascinated by Mrs. Halloran, she now began to fear her.

"I should not like to have her talk of me as she talks of some people whom I think a great deal better than she is."

"Let her talk. What she says will be no scandal," returned Mr. Leland.

"Even admit that, I don't want to be on bad terms with a neighbor. If she were to remove from the neighborhood, the thing would assume a different aspect. As it is, I cannot do as I please."

"Can't you indeed? Then I think we had better move forthwith, in order that you may be free to act right. There is one thing that I intend doing, immediately, in any event, and that is, to forbid Jane from associating any longer with Mary Halloran."

"She cannot help herself. Mary calls for her every day."

"She can help going out with her and returning her calls; and this she must do."

"I wish it could be prevented. But I am afraid of harsh measures."

"I am more afraid of the consequences to our daughter. We know not into what company this indiscreet young lady may introduce, nor how deeply she may corrupt her. Our duty to our child requires us at once to break up all intercourse with the family."

The necessity Mrs. Leland saw clearly enough, but she hesitated. Her husband, however, was not a man to hold back when his duty was before him. Neither fear nor favor governed him in his actions toward others. When satisfied that a thing ought to be done, he entered fearlessly upon the work, leaving consequences to take care of themselves.

While they were yet conversing Jane came to the door, accompanied by a young gallant. Mr. Leland happened to be sitting near the window and saw him.

"Bless my heart!" he said, in an excited voice.

"Here she is now, in company with that good-for-nothing son of Mr. Clement. She might almost as well associate with Satan himself."

"With John Clement?" asked Mrs. Leland, in surprise.

"It is too true; and the fellow had the assurance to kiss his hand to her. This matter has gone quite far enough now, in all conscience, and must be stopped, if half the world become offended."

Mrs. Leland doubted and hesitated no longer. The young man who had come home with Jane bore a notoriously bad character. It was little less than disgrace, in the eyes of virtuous people, for a lady to be seen in the street with him. Mr. and Mrs. Leland were shocked and distressed at the appearance of things; and mutually resolved that all intercourse with Mrs. Halloran and her daughter should cease. This could not be effected without giving offence; but no matter, offence would have to be given.

On that very afternoon Mrs. Halloran called in. But Mrs. Leland sent her word that she was engaged.

"Engaged, indeed!" said the lady to the servant, tossing her head. "I'm never engaged to a neighbor."

The servant repeated the words.

"Be engaged again, if she calls," said Mr. Leland, when his wife mentioned the remark of her visitor. "It will raise an effectual barrier between you."

Some serious conversation was had with Jane that day by her mother, but Jane was by no means submissive.

"Your father positively forbids any farther intimacy between you and Mary Halloran. I shall have nothing more to do with her mother."

Jane met this declaration with a passionate gush of tears, and an intimation that she was not prepared to sacrifice the friendship of Mary, whom she believed to be quite as good as herself.

"It must be done, Jane. Your father has the best of reasons for desiring it, and I hope you will not think for a moment of opposing his wishes."

"He doesn't know Mary as I know her. His prejudices have no foundation in truth," said Jane.

"No matter how pure she may be," replied the mother, "she has already introduced you into bad company. A virtuous young lady should blush to be seen in the street with the man who came home with you to-day."

"Who, Mr. Clement?" inquired Jane.

"Yes, John Clement. His bad conduct is so notorious as to exclude him entirely from the families of many persons, who have the independence to mark with just reprehension his evil deeds. It grieves me to think that you were not instinctively repelled by him the moment he approached you."

Jane's manner changed at these words. But the change did not clearly indicate to her mother what was passing in her mind. From that moment she met with silence nearly every thing that her mother said.