Nobody

"Did you hear he had made a great match?"

"I heard he was going to be married. I heard that a great while ago."

"Yes, he has made a very great match. It has been delayed by the deathof her mother; they had to wait. He was married a few months ago, inFlorence. They had a splendid wedding."

"What makes what you call a 'great match'?" Madge asked.

"Money, – and family."

"I understand money," Madge went on; "but what do you mean by 'family,'

Mrs. Wishart?"

"My dear, if you lived in the world, you would know. It means name, andposition, and standing. I suppose at Shampuashuh you are all alike – oneis as good as another."

"Indeed," said Madge, "you are much mistaken, Mrs. Wishart. We thinkone is much better than another."

"Do you? Ah well, – then you know what I mean, my dear. I suppose theworld is really very much alike in all places; it is only the names ofthings that vary."

"In Shampuashuh," Madge went on, "we mean by a good family, a housefulof honest and religious people."

"Yes, Madge," said Lois, looking up, "we mean a little more than that.We mean a family that has been honest and religious, and educated too, for a long while – for generations. We mean as much as that, when wespeak of a good family."

"That's different," said Mrs. Wishart shortly.

"Different from what you mean?"

"Different from what is meant here, when we use the term."

"You don't mean anything honest and religious?" said Madge.

"O, honest! My dear, everybody is honest, or supposed to be; but we donot mean religious."

"Not religious, and only supposed to be honest!" echoed Madge.

"Yes," said Mrs. Wishart. "It isn't that. It has nothing to do withthat. When people have been in society, and held high positions forgeneration after generation, it is a good family. The individuals neednot be all good."

"Oh – !" said Madge.

"No. I know families among the very best in the State, that have beenwicked enough; but though they have been wicked, that did not hindertheir being gentlemen."

"Oh – !" said Madge again. "I begin to comprehend."

"There is too much made of money now-a-days," Mrs. Wishart went onserenely; "and there is no denying that money buys position. I do notcall a good family one that was not a good family a hundred years ago; but everybody is not so particular. Not here. They are more particularin Philadelphia. In New York, any nobody who has money can push himselfforward."

"What sort of family is Mr. Dillwyn's?"

"O, good, of course. Not wealthy, till lately. They have been poor, ever since I knew the family; until the sister married ChaunceyBurrage, and Philip came into his property."

"The Caruthers are rich, aren't they?"

"Yes."

"And now the young one has made a great match? Is she handsome?"

"I never heard so. But she is rolling in money."

"What else is she?" inquired Madge dryly.

"She is a Dulcimer."

"That tells me nothing," said Madge. "By the way you speak it, the wordseems to have a good deal of meaning for you."

"Certainly," said Mrs. Wishart. "She is one of the Philadelphia

Dulcimers. It is an old family, and they have always been wealthy."

"How happy the gentleman must be!"

"I hope so," said Mrs. Wishart gravely. "You used to know Tom quitewell, Lois. What did you think of him?"

"I liked him," said Lois. "Very pleasant and amiable, and alwaysgentlemanly. But I did not think he had much character."

Mrs. Wishart was satisfied; for Lois's tone was as disengaged asanything could possibly be.

Lois could not bring herself to say anything to Madge that night aboutthe turn in her fortunes. Her own thoughts were in too much agitation, and only by slow degrees resolving themselves into settled conclusions.Or rather, for the conclusions were not doubtful, settling into suchquiet that she could look at conclusions. And Lois began to be afraidto do even that, and tried to turn her eyes away, and thought of thehour of half-past ten next morning with trembling and heart-beating.

It came with tremendous swiftness, too. However, she excused herselffrom going to the matinée, though with difficulty. Mrs. Wishart wassure she ought to go; and Madge tried persuasion and raillery. Loiswatched her get ready, and at last contentedly saw the two drive off.That was good. She wanted no discussion with them before she had seenMr. Dillwyn again; and now the coast was clear. But then Lois retreatedto her own room up-stairs to wait; she could not stay in thedrawing-room, to be found there. She would have so much time forpreparation as his ring at the door and his name being broughtup-stairs would give her. Preparation for what? When the summons came,Lois went down feeling that she had not a bit of preparation.

Philip was standing in the middle of the floor, waiting for her; andthe apparition that greeted him was so unexpected that he stood still, feasting his eyes with it. He had always seen Lois calm, collected, moving and speaking with frank independence, although with perfectmodesty. Now? – how was it? Eyes cast down, colour coming and going; alook and manner, not of shyness, for she came straight to him, but ofthe most lovely maidenly consciousness; of all things, that which alover would most wish to see. Yet she came straight to him, and as hemet her and held out his hand, she put hers in it.

"What are you going to say to me this morning, Lois?" he said softly; for the pure dignity of the girl was a thing to fill him with reverenceas well as with delight, and her hand seemed to him something sacred.

Her colour stirred again, but the lowered eyelids were lifted up, andthe eyes met his with a most blessed smile in them.

"I am very happy, Mr. Dillwyn," she said.

Everybody knows how words fail upon occasion; and on this occasion thesilence lasted some considerable time. And then Philip put Lois intoone of the big easy-chairs, and went down on one knee at her feet, holding her hand. Lois tried to collect her spirits to makeremonstrance.

"O, Mr. Dillwyn, do not stay there!" she begged.

"Why not? It becomes me."

"I do not think it becomes you at all," said Lois, laughing a littlenervously, – "and I am sure it does not become me."

"Mistaken on both points! It becomes me well, and I think it does notbecome you ill," said he, kissing the hand he held. And then, bendingforward to carry his kiss from the hand to the cheek, – "O my darling, how long I have waited for this!"

"Long?" said Lois, in surprise. How pretty the incredulity was on herinnocent face.