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The next morning, as Mrs. Van Vechten was slowly
making her toilet alone, there came a gentle rap at her
door, and Rosamond Leyton appeared, her face fresh and
blooming as a rose-bud, her curls brushed back from her
forehead, and her voice very respectful, as she said—“I
have come to ask your pardon for my roughness yesterday.
I can do better, and if you will let me wait on you
while you stay, I am sure I shall please you.”

Mrs. Van Vechten could not resist that appeal, and she
graciously accepted the girl's offer, asking her the while
what had made the change in her behavior. Always
frank and truthful, Rosamond explained to the lady that
Mr. Browning's kindness had filled her with gratitude and
determined her to do as she had done. To her Mrs. Van
Vechten said nothing, but when she met her brother at
the breakfast table, there was an ominous frown upon her
face, and the moment they were alone she gave him her
opinion without reserve. But Mr. Browning was firm.
“He should have something to live for,” he said, “and
Heaven only knew the lonely hours he passed with no
object in which to be interested. Her family, though unfortunate,
are highly respectable,” he added, “and if I
can make her a useful ornament in society, it is my duty
to do so.”

[figure description] Page 242.[end figure description]

Mrs. Van Vechten knew how useless it would be to remonstrate
with him, and she gave up the contest, mentally
resolving that “Ben should not pass his College vacations
there.”

When the villagers learned that Mr. Browning intended
to educate Rosamond and treat her as his equal, they ascribed
it wholly to the influence of his sister, who, of
course, had suggested to him an act which seemed every
way right and proper. They did not know how the lady
opposed it, nor how, for many days, she maintained a cold
reserve toward the young girl, who strove in various
ways to conciliate her, and at last succeeded so far that
she not only accepted her services at her toilet, but even
asked of her sometimes to read her to sleep in the afternoon,
a process neither long nor tedious, for Mrs. Van
Vechten was not literary, and by the time the second page
was reached she usually nodded her full acquiescence to
the author's opinions, and Rosamond was free to do as she
pleased.

One afternoon when Mrs. Van Vechten was fast asleep
and Rosamond deep in the “Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner,”
(the former having selected that poem as an opiate
because of its musical jingle,) there was the sound of a
bounding step upon the stairs, accompanied by the stirring
notes of Yankee Doodle, which some one whistled at the
top of his voice. Rosamond was about going to see who
it was, when the door opened and disclosed to view a long
lank, light-haired, good-natured looking youth, dressed in
the extreme of fashion, with a huge gold chain dangling
across his vest, and an immense diamond ring upon his
little finger. This last he managed to show frequently by
caressing his chin, where, by the aid of a microscope, a

[figure description] Page 243.[end figure description]

very little down might possibly have been found! This
was Ben! He had just arrived, and learning that his
mother was in her room, had entered it unceremoniously.
The unexpected apparition of a beautiful young girl
startled him, and he introduced himself to her good graces
by the very expressive exclamation, “Thunder! I beg
your pardon, Miss,” he continued, as he met her surprised
and reproving glance. “You scared me so I didn't know
what else to say. It's a favorite expression of mine, but
I'll quit it, if you say so. Do you live here?”

“I wait upon your mother,” was the quiet answer,
which came near wringing from the young man a repetition
of the offensive word.

But he remembered himself in time, and then continued,
“How do you know she's my mother? You are right,
though. I'm Ben Van Vechten—the veriest dolt in school,
they say. But, as an offset, I've got a heart as big as an
ox; and now, who are you? I know you are not a waiting-maid!”

Rosamond explained who she was, and then, rather
pleased with his off-hand manner, began to question him
concerning his journey, and so forth. Ben was delighted.
It was not every girl who would of her own accord talk
to him, and sitting down beside her, he told her twice
that she was handsome, was cautiously winding his arm
around her waist, when from the rosewood bedstead
there came the sharp, quick word, “Benjamin!” and, unmindful
of Rosamond's presence, Ben leaped into the
middle of the room, ejaculating, “Thunder! mother,
what do you want?”

“I want her to leave the room,” said Mrs. Van Vechten,
pointing toward Rosamond, who, wholly ignorant of the

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nature of her offence, retreated hastily, wondering how
she had displeased the capricious lady.

Although Ben Van Vechten would not have dared to
do a thing in direct opposition to his mother's commands,
he was ot ordinarily afraid of her, and he now listened
impatiently, while she told him that Rosamond Leyton
was not a fit associate for a young man like himself, “She
was a sort of nobody, whom her brother had undertaken
to educate,” she said, “and though she might be rather
pretty, she was low-born and vulgar, as any one could
see.”

Ben confessed to a deficiency of eye-sight on that point,
and then, as his mother showed no signs of changing the
conversation, he left her abruptly, and sauntered off into
the garden, where he came suddenly upon Rosamond, who
was finishing the Ancient Mariner in the summer-house,
her favorite resort.

“So we've met again,” said he, “and a pretty lecture
I've had on your account.”

“Why on my account,” asked Rosamond; and Ben,
who never kept a thing to himself, told her in substance
all his mother had said.

“She always wakes in the wrong time,” said he, “and
she saw me just as I was about to give you a little bit of
a hug—so”—and he proceeded to demonstrate.

Rosamond's temper was up, and equally indignant at
mother and son, she started to her feet, exclaiming, “I'd
thank you, sir, to let me alone.”

“Whew-ew,” whistled Ben. “Spunky, ain't you. Now
I rather like that. But pray don't burst a blood vessel.
I've no notion of making love to you, if mother does think
so. You are too small a girl.”

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“Too small a girl,” repeated Rosamond, scornfully.
“I'm fourteen to-morrow—quite too old to be insulted,”
and she darted away, followed by the merry laugh of the
good-humored Ben.

Two hours before, Rosamond would not have been so
excited, for though nearly fourteen, she was in thought
and feeling a very child, as was proved by her asking to
kiss her benefactor's hand; but Mrs. Van Vechten's remarks,
repeated to her by Ben, had wrought in her a
change, and, in some respects, transformed her into a
woman at once. She did not care so much for the liberties
Ben had attempted to take, but his mother's words
rankled in her bosom, awakening within her a feeling of
bitter resentment; and when, next day, the lady's bell
rang out its summons for her to come, she sat still upon
the door-steps and gave no heed.

“Rosamond,” said Mrs. Peters, “Mrs. Van Vechten is
ringing for you.”

“Let her ring, I'm not going to wait on her any
more,” and Rosamond returned to the book she was
reading.

Meantime, flurried and impatient, the lady above stairs
pulled at the bell-rope, growing more nervous and angry
with every pull, until at last, as she heard her brother's
step in the hall, she went out to him and said, “I wish
you'd send that girl to me. I've rung at least fifty times;
and dare say she's enticing Ben again. I knew it would
be so.”

Going hurriedly down the stairs, Mr. Browning sought
out Rosamond and said to her, “My sister is ringing for
you.”

“I know it, sir;” and the brown eyes, which heretofore

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had seemed so soft and gentle, flashed upon him an expression
which puzzled him.

“Then why do you not go?” he asked; and the young
girl replied, “I shall not wait upon her any more.”

“Rosamond!” said Mr. Browning. There was severity
in the tone of his voice, and Rosamond roused at once.

“She says I am vulgar, and low-born, and have designs
upon Ben,” said she, “and it's a falsehood. My mother
was as much a lady as she. I am not vulgar, and I hate
Ben, and I won't stay here if I must wait on her. Shall
I go away?”

If Rosamond left, the life of the house went with her.
This Mr. Browning knew; but man-like, he did not wish
to be conquered by a woman, and after questioning her as
to the nature of Mrs. Van Vechten's offence, he answered,
“My sister says some foolish things, I know, but it is my
request that you attend to her while she stays, and I expect
to be obeyed.”

That last word was unfortunate, for Rosamond had a
strong will of her own, and tapping her little foot upon
the ground, she said saucily, “And suppose you are not
obeyed?”

He did not tell her she must leave Riverside, but he
said, “You must answer for your disobedience to me, who
have certainly some right to control you;” then, fearing
that his own high temper might be tried more than he
chose to have it, he walked away just in time to avoid
hearing her say, “she cared less for him than for his
sister!”

Rosamond was too impulsive not to repent bitterly of
her conduct; and though she persisted in leaving Mrs.
Van Vechten to herself, and refused to speak to Ben,

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whose face, in consequence, wore a most melancholy expression,
she almost cried herself sick, and at last, startled
Mrs. Peters, just as that lady was stepping into bed, by
declaring that she must see Mr. Browning before she slept.

Mr. Browning sat in his library, alone. He did not
usually retire early, but this night he had cause for wakefulness.
The burst of passion he had witnessed in his
protege, had carried him back to a time when another than
little Rosamond Leyton had laughed his wishes to scorn.

“And is it ever thus with them?” he said. “Are all
women furies in disguise?—and Rosamond seemed so
gentle, so good.”

He did not hear the low knock on his door, for his
thoughts were far away in the south-land, where he had
learned his first lesson of womankind. Neither did he
hear the light footfall upon the floor, but when a sweet,
tearful voice said to him, “Mr. Browning, are you feeling
so badly for me?” he started, and on a hassock at his
feet saw Rosamond Leyton. The sight of her was unexpected,
and it startled him for a moment, but soon recovering
his composure, he said gently: “Why are you here?
I supposed you were in bed.”

Rosamond began to cry, and with her usual impetuosity
replied, “I came to tell you how sorry I am for behaving
so rudely to you. I do try to govern my temper so hard,
but it sometimes gets the mastery. Won't you forgive
me, sir? It wasn't Rosamond that acted so—it was a
vile, wicked somebody else. Will you forgive me?” and
in her dread that the coveted forgiveness might be withheld,
she forgot that he was only twenty-four, and laid her
head upon his knee, sobbing like a little child.

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“Had she done like this, how different would my life
have been,” thought Mr. Browning, and involuntarily
caressing the curly head, he was about to speak, when
Rosamond interrupted him, saying,

“I won't deceive you, Mr. Browning, and make you
think I'm better than I am. I am sorry I acted so to you,
but I don't believe I'm sorry about Mrs. Van Vechten. I
don't like her, for she always treats me as though I were
not near as good as she, and I can't wait on her any more.
Must I? Oh, don't make me,” and she looked beseechingly
into his face.

He could not help respecting her for that inborn feeling,
which would not permit herself to be trampled down, and
though he felt intuitively that she was having her own
way after all, he assured her of his forgiveness, and then
added: “Mrs. Van Vechten will not require your services,
for she received a letter to-night, saying her presence was
needed at home, and she leaves us to-morrow.”

“And Ben?” she asked—“does he go, too?”

“He accompanies his mother to New York,” Mr. Browning
said, “and I believe she intends leaving him there with
a friend, until his school commences again.”

In spite of herself, Rosamond rather liked Ben, and feeling
that she was the cause of his banishment from Riverside,
her sympathy was enlisted for him, and she said, “If
I were not here, Ben would stay. Hadn't you rather send
me away?”

“No, Rosamond, no; I need you here,” was Mr.
Browning's reply, and then as the clock struck eleven, he
bade her leave him, saying it was time children like her
were in bed.

As he had said, Mrs. Van Vechten was going away,

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and she came down to breakfast next morning in her
traveling dress, appearing very unamiable, and looking
very cross at Rosamond, with whom she finally parted
without a word of reconciliation. Ben on the contrary,
was all affability, and managed slyly to kiss her, telling
her he should come there again in spite of his mother.

After their departure the household settled back into
its usual monotonous way of living, with the exception
that Rosamond, being promoted to the position of an
equal, became, in many respects, the real mistress of
Riverside, though Mrs. Peters nominally held the reins,
and aside from superintending her work, built many castles
of the future when her protege would be a full grown
woman and her master still young and handsome!

p592-255

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