Phemie Frost's Experiences. Ann S. Stephens

was rustle and bustle and confusion.

      Perhaps I moved from my seat and dropped into some other without knowing it. I can't be certain about that or anything else; but all at once I felt an arm around my waist, and while I was holding my breath, with astonishment, some one kissed me.

      I gave a little scream, and pushed away that impudent arm with all my might.

      The arm wore a coat-sleeve—I can take my oath to that—and if I was used to such things I should say that there was a beard about the lips that touched my face.

      Sisters, it seemed to me for a minute as if Cousin E. E. really had got a roaring lion in her dining-room.

      While I sat there breathless and wondering if he would have the impudence to repeat that audacious conduct, a soft hand took hold of mine, and a sweet voice whispered in my ear:

      "Forgive me, dearest, I did not mean to be rude."

      I did not speak, but his penitence touched me with compassion. Softly I pressed the hand, in token of a relenting heart. How could I be hard on a man who meant no real harm, considering the temptation.

      He whispered something more, but I could not hear distinctly; for just then a waiter came in with a candle in his hand. Says he, "The gas works are blown up, and all Murray Hill, and more too, is in total darkness."

      Then there was a burst of voices; everybody laughed and everybody had something to say, which no one listened to.

      "Bring candles," Cousin Dempster sung out.

      "But the candlesticks—we have not got one in the house," says his wife.

      Then everybody laughed, and Cousin Dempster laughed loudest of all.

      "Find something," says he, "for we must have light."

      The waiter, says he, "Yes, sir, we'll do our best," and out he went.

      By and by he comes back, and all the rest of the waiters with him. Every one had a stone beer bottle in each hand, from which a tall white candle rose like a steeple to a church. There was not a smile on their faces.

      City waiters are never expected to smile, but each man set his two bottles down on the table, and drew back.

      Dempster burst out laughing; the rest burst out too; some giggled, some choked, some pealed out the fun that was in them like wedding bells.

      Everybody laughed except me and an elegant young gentleman, with blue eyes and a soft beard, that sat next me. He stared in my face, and I would have stared in his, only I couldn't bring myself to look in his eyes.

      Oh, sisters, it was dreadful! I had got into that young girl's place and she was in mine, and a teinty bit of court-plaster that I had put on the corner of my mouth, where the skin had been a trifle rubbed, was sticking right on the plumpest part of his under lip.

      Oh, sisters! I thought that I should have died with shame.

      He looked from me to the young lady, and she looked at him. I looked first at one, then at the other, from under my drooping lashes.

      She smiled, she touched her lip with one finger; he touched his, the mite of court-plaster stuck on his finger. Then she began to laugh, and so did he; the chairs shook under them. They made no noise, and the redness of their faces was lost in the shadow cast by the beer-bottles to every one but me.

      Cousin Dempster was busy trying to crowd an extra candle into one of the wine-bottles that had just been emptied, while he sat before the chair I ought to have been sitting in.

      "We must have a little more elegance at this end of the table," says he.

      "Wax candles and champagne bottles for this lady."

      He stooped down, expecting me to answer him; when he saw her face all glowing with blushes.

      "Ah!" says he, laughing, "we have got a little mixed here, Cousin Frost. It will never answer to come between man and wife in this fashion, especially when they have been only three weeks married. Supposing we change round again?"

      I arose—she arose—we exchanged glances, then exchanged seats.

      The lights from these beer bottles were numerous, but not brilliant. Under the shadows we concealed the emotions which disturbed us.

      He looked funnily penitent, whenever his eyes caught mine, which was often, for somehow I could not keep looking on my plate all the time.

      As for that young creature, she seemed to be brimming over with fun.

      After a little, I began to feel myself smiling. It really was droll, but not so very unpleasant.

XXII.

       NEW YEAR'S DAY.

       Table of Contents