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NOVEMBER 2,
1867
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LAURA’S
STRANGER.
My door opened
and let in Laura — Laura with her passionate, dark eyes
gleaming out from under her jaunty velvet-bound hat, with
its dancing Trogon feather. To understand my story at all
you ought to have known Laura; but there you would have been
in advance of her, for she did not know herself.
Her features were pure
Greek—the low, fair brow, with which the nose made the
straight classical line so seldom seen; the mouth a little
haughty yet sweet; the small, proud head daintily poised,
with the shining black hair massed heavily at the back; and
then those eyes of which I spoke, very large, almond-shaped,
long-lashed, full of meaning, full, too, of a smouldering
fire which should be kindled some day. A woman all impulse
and emotion, and yet a good woman —ignorant, moreover, of
the power of her own impulses because her temperament had
another side, a sort of Oriental indolence which made her
accept little things calmly, and gave her a wide reputation
for good-nature. I looked up, as she stood in my doorway,
and began of a sudden, as it seemed, to realize how handsome
Laura was.
We were at the Wadawanuck, at
Stonington; I had been sitting at my window, with a glass at
my eye, trying to make out the shape of the distant craft in
the offing, and looking longingly over to Watch Hill, where
the very Atlantic itself was thundering in on the east
beach.
"Are you ready for a sail?"
Laura asked.
"To Watch Hill? Yes."
"Come then. Regie Babcock has
invited us, and his boat is ready, and his sail up."
I caught my hat and a scarlet
cloak. In those little six by nine rooms every thing is
handy. Just then in came Laura's mother, stout, florid, and
dreadfully out of breath with the stairs.
"Laura," she said, sitting down
heavily, "you must not go out with young Babcock. He has not
had experience enough. The water is deep, and you can't swim
more than a little way."
"Indisputable facts," said
Laura, with an air of solemn acquiescence, her eyes
scintillating fun.
Mrs. Dinsmore proceeded
gravely, not heeding the interruption:
"And Captain Brewster saw five
sharks the last time he went over."
"Why! it would only take one of
them to make an end of me;" and Laura's face was comically
drawn into an expression which tried to be frightened and
was funny.
"You can not go sailing with
Mr. Babcock," Mrs. Dinsmore said loftily, and with severity.
She had a vague suspicion that Laura was laughing at her
fussiness; but in Laura's laughter was no element of
disrespect, only pure merriment; and though, of these two,
the mother always fussed and the daughter always laughed,
neither of them ever knew how to get on without the other.
"We must go and let poor Mr.
Babcock know his disappointment," Laura said, pulling me
along with her. Then, turning back to her mother, with a
merry smile, she asked,
"How do you propose that we
shall get to Watch Hill? There is a fresh wind today, and
the wooing surf is not to be disregarded."
''If you find Captain Brewster
at the pier you may go with him; but I'll not have you
flirting off with any young fellow who'll be making pretty
speeches and forget to trim his sail."
"But Mr. Babcock took out the
Nickson girls yesterday. Are their necks worth less than
mine?"
"You are my girl—they are not."
Mrs. Dinsmore's air was final. Laura only laughed and hummed
a stave of waltz music.
"Why didn't you talk the mother
over?" I asked, as we went down stairs. "Couldn't you?"
"Possibly; but then she would
have been uncomfortable while I was gone. After all, Captain
Brewster is the better sailor, and Regie Babcock won't be
heart-broken."
That was one of the "little
things" which would have fretted some girls, but which
Laura, with her sunny acceptant nature, never minded. I knew
there was latent among her possibilities a great power of
self-assertion; and I rather wondered sometimes at her calm,
which no slight gales ever ruffled.
We found two boats at the pier—Regie
Babcock's and Captain Brewster's. Regie's was a gay little
affair, with cushioned seats and snowy sail. Captain
Brewster's had seen harder service and was much less
elegant. Laura smiled as young Babcock came gallantly to
meet her.
"It is too bad," she said,
"entirely too bad; but mamma will not let me go out with
you. She declares you are not old enough to be trusted. What
a pity you hadn't gray hair. I was as pathetic as I could
possibly be, but her dictum is absolute. She says I must go
with Captain Brewster, or I don't see Watch Hill today."
Captain Brewster heard his own
name, and came forward with alacrity.
"So your mother wants you to go
with me? Most ladies that I've carried over once do think
I'm the man to go with," he added, with harmless
self-complacency. Just as he had seated us, young Babcock
said, with affected carelessness,
"I guess I'll go over with you
too, Captain Brewster. I want to try the surf today, and
it's dull music sailing alone."
Laura left him chiefly to me.
We were all three sitting on one side at first, but she made
an excuse to go over to the other, and sit next to Captain
Brewster, to study navigation, as she said. She was in high
spirits. She bandied nautical phrases with her Captain to
his intense delight, asked him numberless questions which he
was proud to answer, sang snatches of gay music, and now and
then joined in the talk between Babcock and me—a chat about
some private theatricals we had had at the hotel a night or
two before, when pretty little Mrs. Clark had distinguished
herself as a soubrette, and some one else had murdered a
part which Laura ought to have taken and did not. Regie
Babcock talked to me, but he looked at Laura. He was over
head and ears in love with her, but either she did not know
it or regarded the fact with a grand indifference which sat
well on her.
Just as we neared Watch Hill
the steamboat from New London touched the pier, and among
the disembarking passengers I distinctly noticed one—a man
very handsome, in Laura's own style, with dark eyes, clearly
cut classic features, and crisp dark hair. His figure was
lithe yet strong, and he stepped off the boat and walked up
toward Plympton's with an air of careless grace which
distinguished him among the crowd.
Three quarters of an hour
afterward Laura came out of her bath-house looking like a
sea-nymph — that is, if sea-nymphs look as they ought —I
never saw one. I had been ready a few moments first; and
while I had stood talking with Regie Babcock and waiting for
Laura I had seen my handsome stranger go down to the water—a
real sea-lover evidently, who was losing no time.
"I shall leave Mr. Babcock to
you," Laura said to me as she joined us. ''I can swim, yon
know, at least, as my mother said, a little way, and you
can't; and I do like to be independent."
She was so utterly unconscious
of young Babcock's disappointment that it amused me. I knew
he was inwardly cursing his unlucky stars; but like a
courteous squire of dames he graciously accepted the task
appointed him and made no sign.
Once in the surf Laura dashed
away gallantly, while I would not part company with the
rope. The breakers were strong, and I was busy with my own
footing, and for a few moments lost sight of Laura. At last
I heard a scream and saw Regie striking out manfully. Laura,
it seemed, had been near meeting with an accident, but some
one closer at hand had been too quick for Regie; and when I
saw her she was standing quietly, neckdeep in the water,
upheld by the dark, handsome stranger I had seen come off
the steamboat. Regie swam back to me discontentedly. Laura's
eyes were brighter than their wont. A clear red burned on
her cheek. She was the only woman I have ever seen who was
handsome in the surf. Her splendid physique made her
insensible under the force of excitement to any amount of
fatigue.
Five minutes afterward I saw
Regie growing white about the lips, and felt a nervous
tremor in the hand which held mine. I insisted then on going
in, and made him go. Laura had evidently found a friend, and
did not need us. His coming chill seconded my arguments so
urgently that he yielded. We had been out of our
bathing-rooms half an hour before Laura joined us. The beach
was then almost deserted; but my handsome hero stood there
at a little distance, hat in hand, and bowed to her as she
came near with the silent respectfulness of a stranger too
well-bred to presume upon having served her.
"I thought you knew him," I
said, wonderingly, as Laura moved on with us toward the pier
where the Sea-Gull waited.
''Our only introduction was my
need of him, and the touch of salt-water which makes the
whole world kin," she answered, carelessly. "I swam a little
too far, and found the tide too strong for me. Then I was
foolish enough to scream, and he swam to the rescue. For the
rest, he is an excellent bather, and I have seen him, as
Captain Brewster saw the sharks, once, and never any more."
Then she
sang in a low, sweet voice the refrain of a favorite ballad
of hers—
" Never, never, never, never, Never any more."
After that she was silent. I tried once or twice to make her
talk, but she said she was tired. She did not look so,
however, with the clear red on her cheek, and the
smouldering fire kindled in her great dark eyes. I wondered
if it would indeed be "never any more" with her and her
fellow-bather; and I speculated a little on the strangeness
of such chance meetings, if it is right to call any thing
chance in this life.
That evening at tea I saw Laura's stranger, as for want of a
better name I called him, in an opposite comer of the
dining-hall; and after supper Colonel MacMorton came to me
on the piazza and asked leave to introduce his friend Major
Flemming, pointing out the stranger as he spoke.
"The Major went over to Watch Hill today, took his dinner,
and came back in the Massasoit at three. He meant to
stay there, but I believe he got tired of it. We must make
it as pleasant for him here as we can. His position and
antecedents are all they should be," he added, seeing me
hesitate a moment.
"Introduce him, of course," I said, a little ungraciously,
through sheer absence of mind, for I was admiring the
Major's ingenuity. I wondered if he would have tired of
Watch Hill so soon if he had not bathed with Laura; also,
how he had found out that she was at the Wadawannck. Somehow
or other, I felt sure, he had ascertained her locality, had
come to Stonington for her sake, and was now seeking her
thus deftly through me her friend —veiling his anxiety with
a discreet show of indifference. He certainly understood the
art of making himself agreeable, and he looked handsomer
than ever as he stood there on the piazza talking with me.
It was ten minutes, perhaps, before Laura came our way,
walking and talking, as girls do, with pretty Mary Burnie.
Just at that instant it flashed into my mind that Laura was
engaged. She was so much in the habit of forgetting the fact
herself, that her friends might perhaps be pardoned for
following her example. Her betrothed was a thorough man of
business —a kind, unselfish, well-informed, and well-bred
man, who understood making money. It is true that he had no
sentiment, but as an offset to that he exacted none. He
would never have been tempted, however, to forget Laura, or beguiled into remembering another woman.
"That," said the Major, diplomatically, affecting a look of
sudden recognition —"surely that is your friend, with whom I
had the honor of bathing today. Might I ask you to
introduce me?"
I beckoned Laura to my side, and in five minutes more she
and the Major were walking round the veranda together, and I
was left to sit and talk to Mary Burnie, thinking how lovely
she was in her delicate blonde beauty, with the azure
trimmings to her hat falling soft as sea foam and flecked
with glittering dew-drops. As we talked Laura and her
companion came several times within range of us, and I saw a
look of interest in her face which might have made me uneasy
if I had had less confidence in her. That night I waited in
vain for her to come to my room, for the usual talk, after
we put on our dressing-gowns, and while we brushed our hair,
which had become a pleasant habit with us since we had
been staying under the same roof. I knew then that there had
been something in her experience that day which she was not
quite ready to discuss.
As the days went on Regie Babcock's kind and pleasant face
grew sad. He had loved Laura with youthful desperation; but
he was young, and had not the weapons to dispute her
possession with an accomplished man of the world like Major Flemming. I took pity on his sad aspect one day, and told
him confidentially that Laura was engaged —a fact not
generally known in the hotel.
''Will she keep her engagement, do you think?" he asked.
"I think she is sure to, it would be so much the best thing
for her."
I was amazed to see his face brighten perceptibly. He
understood my look of surprise and answered it.
"At least, then, she won't marry that man, that Major!" "Why do you care which?"
"Because I distrust him. As a rule, I distrust all men with
black eyes."
A very consistent sentiment, as you will see, for the ardent
lover of a black-eyed woman! I was in Mrs. Dinsmore's room the next morning after my talk
with Regie, when Laura came in from a walk with the
Major—all her walks were with the Major in these days. Mrs.
Dinsmore had put on her heaviest silk and her uttermost
dignity. I offered to go out, but she asked me to stay."You will be no interruption," she said, "in what I have
to say to my daughter."
I secretly thought she was conscious of feeling a little
support in my presence, and she needed all she could get,
good lady. She began, solemnly:''Laura, I do not understand your movements."
"They are the simplest thing in the world,
mamma; indeed, the place is so circumscribed here that they
could not very well be intricate or various. This morning,
for instance, I rolled a string in the bowling-alley, and
then took an ice at Burchard's. That's all, so far."
"And always with the Major! I suppose the company, as well
as the place, is circumscribed?"
"Rather."
" But I am not indifferent, if you are."
Laura opened her eyes."I am not, either, I assure you. I really like the Major
very much."
Mrs. Dinsmore spread out her silk gorgeously, and waved her
fan solemnly.
"Do not affect to misunderstand me, if you please."
"Certainly not. You were speaking of the Major, and you said
you were not indifferent. Considering how little attention
he has shown you I am a little surprised at your interest,
that's all."
''Laura, are you lost to all sense of propriety that you
talk about your mother as if she were a flighty, flirting
girl? I mean I am not indifferent, if you are, to the
obligations you are under to some one besides the Major."
"So that way blows the wind?" Laura smiled; but there was
an ominous glitter in those great eyes of hers. "It is poor
Mr. Pay well on whose account you are uneasy. You are right,
perhaps. If you think I ought, I will write to him next
mail and dismiss him. It may be my engagement was too much
of an experiment, and too little of an experience. I
certainly shall not marry him until I have satisfied myself
whether what he has to give will pay me for all I should
have to do without."
Mrs. Dinsmore actually grew pale —quite an achievement for
her, but the Paywell alliance was very dear to her heart.
She was subdued, too; for just this which Laura had
threatened was precisely the peril she had feared.
"Better wait, at any rate," she said, meekly, ''until you
are certain of yourself. But I thought it was hard on the
Major."
"Oh, it is the Major you are anxious about, after all!
Perhaps he doesn't care. Any way, I'll tell him of my
engagement this afternoon, if that will satisfy. I shall
sail with him after dinner, and I'll tell him then."
Mrs. Dinsmore sighed ponderously. She felt that Laura had
somehow got the better of her, and she was at a loss about
her next move. It would not do, some intuition whispered, as
in Regie Babcock's case, to forbid the sail. So she held her
peace. Laura's power of self-assertion was coming to the
surface.
That afternoon, between sea and sky, she told Major Flemming
about her engagement.
She never knew just how he took it. His face was turned
away, and he seemed very busy with the sail. When he spoke
she fancied his voice was colder.
''I shall have to tack; excuse me if I ask you to move your
seat."
There was a little space of silence — it seemed an hour long
to Laura — and then he said,
"Thank you for your confidence, Miss Laura, I think Mr. Paywell a man to be much congratulated. Shall I be able to
say the same of Mrs. Paywell by-and-by?"
"I think the world will say so, "Laura answered,
carelessly. "We live up to our income, and my marriage will
be a brilliant match for a dowerless maiden."
Her tone was careless, but her eyes were sad; and Major
Flemming read the eyes and understood them. If he had asked
her then to give up this brilliant marriage for him would
she have consented? Would she not? Who knows? Who can
ever tell what any of us would have done if the words had
been spoken which no ear heard?
The Major asked nothing; and silence fell between them, as
the mist fell upon the sea, shutting off the shore from
view, and making them feel as if their boat was a speck in
this gray immensity which seemed to them like the hollow
of God's hand. Laura shivered at last, from the very sense
of the infinite mystery of circling existence in which she
herself was such an atom.
"You are getting cold," the Major said, and directly he put
his boat about and began to make for the shore.
When they touched the pier, after a silent half hour's
sail, he held her hand a moment longer than was necessary as
he helped her out.
''You meant to be kind to me — thank you," he said, very
gently; and then he walked up to the hotel by her side,
carrying her waterproof and umbrella — her gracious, courtly
cavalier as usual.
That night Laura danced all the evening, and with every one
who asked her. She seemed in the wildest spirits; but there
was a minor chord in her voice which told me of some
unspoken pain. "After the revel was done" she came to my
room, as she had not before since Major Flemming's advent.
"I have told him," she said, taking up some of my ribbons
and twisting them absently round her fingers.''What did he say?
"Something about congratulations, I believe. I really don't
think he cared."
Her sad voice, her face, so wobegone now the excitement was
over, startled me.
"Did you want him to care, Laura? Do you love him ?"''How do I know? I can not tell. Sometimes, since he has
been here, I've been on the point of discovering that I had
a heart; but I'm not quite sure of it yet. It's all vanity
and vexation of spirit, I think when once I'm married I
shall be happier." Then she kissed me wearily and went
away.
I was troubled. As I said at the beginning of my story,
Laura did not know herself. But I did not care to have Major
Flemming teach
How To
Cite This Article:
"Victorian Hairstyles", November 2, 1867
[electronic edition]. Harper's Bazaar, Nineteenth Century
Fashion Magazine,
http://harpersbazaar.victorian-ebooks.com (2005).
MORE INFO:
Victorian Hair Styles Fashionable hair styles from
Godey's Lady's Book in 1867
Victorian Women and Their Changing Hair:
As with today, Victorian women were
constantly changing their hairstyles.
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