the professor at the breakfast table-第61节

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improvement　in　her　style　of　carrying　herself　before　the　boarders。

She　abolished　the　odious　little　flat；　gummy　side…curl。　　She　left　off

various　articles　of　〃jewelry。〃　　She　began　to　help　her　mother　in　some

of　her　household　duties。　　She　became　a　regular　attendant　on　the

ministrations　of　a　very　worthy　clergyman；　having　been　attracted　to

his　meetin'　by　witnessing　a　marriage　ceremony　in　which　he　called　a

man　and　a　woman　a　〃gentleman〃　and　a　〃lady；〃a　stroke　of　gentility

which　quite　overcame　her。　　She　even　took　a　part　in　what　she　called　a

Sabbath　school；　though　it　was　held　on　Sunday；　and　by　no　means　on

Saturday；　as　the　name　she　intended　to　utter　implied。　　All　this；

which　was　very　sincere；　as　I　believe；　on　her　part；　and　attended　with

a　great　improvement　in　her　character；　ended　in　her　bringing　home　a

young　man；　with　straight；　sandy　hair；　brushed　so　as　to　stand　up

steeply　above　his　forehead；　wearing　a　pair　of　green　spectacles；　and

dressed　in　black　broadcloth。　　His　personal　aspect；　and　a　certain

solemnity　of　countenance；　led　me　to　think　he　must　be　a　clergyman；

and　as　Master　Benjamin　Franklin　blurted　out　before　several　of　us

boarders；　one　day；　that　〃Sis　had　got　a　beau；〃　I　was　pleased　at　the

prospect　of　her　becoming　a　minister's　wife。　　On　inquiry；　however；　I

found　that　the　somewhat　solemn　look　which　I　had　noticed　was　indeed　a

professional　one；　but　not　clerical。　　He　was　a　young　undertaker；　who

had　just　succeeded　to　a　thriving　business。　　Things；　I　believe；　are

going　on　well　at　this　time　of　writing；　and　I　am　glad　for　the

landlady's　daughter　and　her　mother。　　Sextons　and　undertakers　are　the

cheerfullest　people　in　the　world　at　home；　as　comedians　and　circus…

clowns　are　the　most　melancholy　in　their　domestic　circle。



As　our　old　boarding…house　is　still　in　existence；　I　do　not　feel　at

liberty　to　give　too　minute　a　statement　of　the　present　condition　of

each　and　all　of　its　inmates。　　I　am　happy　to　say；　however；　that　they

are　all　alive　and　well；　up　to　this　time。　　That　amiable　old　gentleman

who　sat　opposite　to　me　is　growing　older；　as　old　men　will；　but　still

smiles　benignantly　on　all　the　boarders；　and　has　come　to　be　a　kind　of

father　to　all　of　them；so　that　on　his　birthday　there　is　always

something　like　a　family　festival。　　The　Poor　Relation；　even；　has

warmed　into　a　filial　feeling　towards　him；　and　on　his　last　birthday

made　him　a　beautiful　present；　namely；　a　very　handsomely　bound　copy

of　Blair's　celebrated　poem；　〃The　Grave。〃



The　young　man　John　is　still；　as　he　says；　〃in　fustrate　fettle。〃　　I

saw　him　spar；　not　long　since；　at　a　private　exhibition；　and　do

himself　great　credit　in　a　set…to　with　Henry　Finnegass；　Esq。；　a

professional　gentleman　of　celebrity。　　I　am　pleased　to　say　that　he

has　been　promoted　to　an　upper　clerkship；　and；　in　consequence　of　his

rise　in　office；　has　taken　an　apartment　somewhat　lower　down　than

number　〃forty…'leven；〃　as　he　facetiously　called　his　attic。　　Whether

there　is　any　truth；　or　not；　in　the　story　of　his　attachment　to；　and

favorable　reception　by；　the　daughter　of　the　head　of　an　extensive

wholesale　grocer's　establishment；　I　will　not　venture　an　opinion；　I

may　say；　however；　that　I　have　met　him　repeatedly　in　company　with　a

very　well…nourished　and　high…colored　young　lady；　who；　I　understand；

is　the　daughter　of　the　house　in　question。



Some　of　the　boarders　were　of　opinion　that　Iris　did　not　return　the

undisguised　attentions　of　the　handsome　young　Marylander。　　Instead　of

fixing　her　eyes　steadily　on　him；　as　she　used　to　look　upon　the　Little

Gentleman；　she　would　turn　them　away；　as　if　to　avoid　his　own。　　They

often　went　to　church　together；　it　is　true；　but　nobody；　of　course；

supposes　there　is　any　relation　between　religious　sympathy　and　those

wretched　〃sentimental〃　movements　of　the　human　heart　upon　which　it　is

commonly　agreed　that　nothing　better　is　based　than　society；

civilization；　friendship；　the　relation　of　husband　and　wife；　and　of

parent　and　child；　and　which　many　people　must　think　were　singularly

overrated　by　the　Teacher　of　Nazareth；　whose　whole　life；　as　I　said

before；　was　full　of　sentiment；　loving　this　or　that　young　man；

pardoning　this　or　that　sinner；　weeping　over　the　dead；　mourning　for

the　doomed　city；　blessing；　and　perhaps　kissing；　the　little　children；

so　that　the　Gospels　are　still　cried　over　almost　as　often　as　the　last

work　of　fiction！



But　one　fine　June　morning　there　rumbled　up　to　the　door　of　our

boarding…house　a　hack　containing　a　lady　inside　and　a　trunk　on　the

outside。　　It　was　our　friend　the　lady…patroness　of　Miss　Iris；　the

same　who　had　been　called　by　her　admiring　pastor　〃The　Model　of　all

the　Virtues。〃　　Once　a　week　she　had　written　a　letter；　in　a　rather

formal　hand；　but　full　of　good　advice；　to　her　young　charge。　　And　now

she　had　come　to　carry　her　away；　thinking　that　she　had　learned　all

she　was　likely　to　learn　under　her　present　course　of　teaching。　　The

Model；　however；　was　to　stay　awhile；a　week；　or　more；before　they

should　leave　together。



Iris　was　obedient；　as　she　was　bound　to　be。　　She　was　respectful；

grateful；　as　a　child　is　with　a　just；　but　not　tender　parent。　　Yet

something　was　wrong。　　She　had　one　of　her　trances；　and　became　statue…

like；　as　before；　only　the　day　after　the　Model's　arrival。　　She　was

wan　and　silent；　tasted　nothing　at　table；　smiled　as　if　by　a　forced

effort；　and　often　looked　vaguely　away　from　those　who　were　looking　at

her；　her　eyes　just　glazed　with　the　shining　moisture　of　a　tear　that

must　not　be　allowed　to　gather　and　fall。　　Was　it　grief　at　parting

from　the　place　where　her　strange　friendship　had　grown　up　with　the

Little　Gentleman？　　Yet　she　seemed　to　have　become　reconciled　to　his

loss；　and　rather　to　have　a　deep　feeling　of　gratitude　that　she　had

been　permitted　to　care　for　him　in　his　last　weary　days。



The　Sunday　after　the　Model's　arrival；　that　lady　had　an　attack　of

headache；　and　was　obliged　to　shut　herself　up　in　a　darkened　room

alone。　　Our　two　young　friends　took　the　opportunity　to　go　together　to

the　Church　of　the　Galileans。　　They　said　but　little　going；

〃collecting　their　thoughts〃　for　the　service；　I　devoutly　hope。　　My

kind　good　friend　the　pastor　preached　that　day　one　of　his　sermons

that　make　us　all　feel　like　brothers　and　sisters；　and　his　text　was

that　affectionate　one　from　John；　〃My　little　children；　let　us　not

love　in　word；　neither　in　tongue；　but　in　deed　and　in　truth。〃　　When

Iris　and　her　friend　came　out　of　church；　they　were　both　pale；　and

walked　a　space　without　speaking。



At　last　the　young　man　said；You　and　I　are　not　little　children；

Iris！



She　looked　in　his　face　an　instant；　as　if　startled；　for　there　was

something　strange　in　the　tone　of　his　voice。　　She　smiled　faintly；　but

spoke　never　a　word。



In　deed　and　in　truth；　Iris；



What　shall　a　poor　girl　say　or　do；　when　a　strong　man　falters　in　his

speech　before　her；　and　can　do　nothing　better　than　hold　out　his　hand

to　finish　his　broken　sentence？



The　poor　girl　said　nothing；　but　quietly　laid　her　ungloved　hand　in

his；the　little　soft　white　hand　which　had　ministered　so　tenderly

and　suffered　so　patiently。



The　blood　came　back　to　the　young　man's　cheeks；　as　he　lifted　it　to

his　lips；　even　as　they　walked　there　in　the　street；　touched　it　gently

with　them；　and　said；　〃It　is　mine！〃



Iris　did　not　contradict　him。



The　seasons　pass　by　so　rapidly；　that　I　am　startled　to　think　how　much

has　happened　since　these　events　I　was　describing。　　Those　two　young

people　would　insist　on　having　their　own　way　about　their　own　affairs；

notwithstanding　the　good　lady；　so　justly　called　the　Model；　insisted

that　the　age　of　twenty…five　years　was　as　early　as　any　discreet　young

lady　should　think　of　incurring　the　responsibilities；　etc。；　etc。

Long　before　Iris　had　reached　that　age；　she　was　the　wife　of　a　young

Maryland　engineer；　directing　some　of　the　vast　constructions　of　his

native　State；where　he　was　growing　rich　fast　enough　to　be　able　to

decline　that　famous　Russian　offer　which　would　have　made　him　a　kind

of　nabob　in　a　few　years。　　Iris　does　not　write　verse　often；　nowadays；

but　she　sometimes　draws。　　The　last　sketch　of　hers　I　have　seen　in　my

Southern　visits　was　of　two　children；　a　boy　and　girl；　the　youngest

holding　a　silver　goblet；　like　the　one　she　held　that　evening　when　I

I　was　so　struck　with　her　statue…like　beauty。　　If　in　the　later；

summer　months　you　find　the　grass　marked　with　footsteps　around　that

grave　on　Copp's　Hill　I　told　you　of；　and　flowers　scattered　over　it；

you　may　be　sure　that　Iris　is　here　on　her　annual　visit　to　the　home　of

her　childhood　and　that　excellent　lady　whose　only　fault　was；　that

Nature　had　written　out　her　list　of　virtues　an　ruled　paper；　and

forgotten　to　rub　out　the　lines。



One　thing　more　I　must　mention。　　Being　on　the　Common；　last　Sunday；　I

was　attracted　by　the　cheerful　spectacle　of　a　well…dressed　and

somewhat　youthful　papa　wheeling　a　very　elegant　little　carriage

containing　a　stout　baby。　　A　buxom　young　lady　watched　them　from　one

of　the　stone　seats；　with　an　interest　which　could　be　nothing　less

than　mat