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The Conscious Amanda
by
“‘After a while,’ interrupted her grandfather. ‘That will not do. You want to understand yourself before a lover proposes to you, not afterwards.'”
The captain sat up straight in his chair. “Now look here,” he said; but he addressed the Mistress of the House, not the story-teller. “How does this daughter of ours come to know all these things about lovers, and the weather-signs which indicate proposals of marriage, and all that? Has she been going about in society, making investigations into the rudiments of matrimony, during my last cruise? And would you mind telling me if any young men have been giving her lessons in love-affairs? John Gayther, have you seen any stray lovers prowling about your garden of late?”
The gardener smiled, and said he had seen no such persons. But he said nothing about a very true friend of the Daughter of the House, who lived in a small house in the garden, and who would have been very well pleased to break the head of any stray lover who should wander into his precincts.
“You don’t know girls, my dear,” said the Mistress of the House, “and you don’t know what comes to them naturally, and how much they have to learn. So please let the story go on.”
“‘Of course,’ said the old gentleman, ‘I know who they are. Considering how often they have been here of late, I could not well make a mistake about that; and although I am not in favor of anything of the sort, and feel very much inclined to put up a sign, “No lovering on these premises,” still, I am a reasonable person’ (‘You must have changed very much if you are, you dear boy!’ thought Miss Amanda), ‘and know what is due to young people, and I am obliged to admit that these young men are good enough as young men go. But the making a choice! That is what I object to. I would advise you, my dear, not to think anything more about it until the time shall come when you feel there is no need of making a choice because the thing has settled itself.’
“‘But, grandpa,’ she said, ‘what am I to say if they ask me? I am bound to say something.’
“The old gentleman did not reply, but began switching at some invisible dandelions. ‘What you tell me,’ he said presently, ‘reminds me of my Aunt Amanda. She was a fine woman, and she had two lovers.’ (‘You little round-faced scamp!’ thought Miss Amanda. ‘Are you going to tell that child all my love-affairs? And what do you know about them, anyway? I never confided in you. You were nothing but a boy, although you were a very inquisitive one, always wanting to know things, and what you have found out is beyond me to imagine.’)
“‘Your Aunt Amanda,’ said Mildred. ‘That’s the one in the oval frame in the parlor. She must have been very pretty.’
“‘Indeed she was,’ said the old gentleman. ‘That portrait was painted when she was quite a young girl; but she was pretty until the day of her death. I used to be very fond of her, and thought her the most beautiful being on earth. She always dressed well, and wore curls. Even when she was scolding me I used to sit and look at her, and think that if such a lady, a little bit younger perhaps, but not much, were shut up in a castle with a window to it, I would be delighted to be a knight in armor, and to fight with retainers at the door of that castle until I got her out and rode away with her sitting on the crupper of my saddle, the horse being always, as I well remember, a gray one dappled with dark spots, with powerful haunches and a black tail.’ (‘You dear boy,’ murmured Miss Amanda, ‘if I had known that I could not have scolded!’) ‘Well, as I said before, she had two lovers. One was a handsome young fellow named Garrett Bridges.’