I HOPE there is no coolness between you and Maria," said Mrs.Appleton to her young friend, Louisa Graham, one evening at a socialparty. "I have not seen you together once to-night; and just now shepassed without speaking, or even looking at you."
"Oh, as to that," replied Louisa, tossing her head with an air ofcontempt and affected indifference, "she's got into a pet aboutsomething; dear knows what, for I don't."
"I am really sorry to hear you say so," remarked Mrs. Appleton."Maria is a warm-hearted girl, and a sincere friend. Why do you notgo to her, and inquire the cause of this change in her manner?"
"Me! No, indeed. I never humour any one who gets into a pet and goespouting about in that manner."
"But is it right for you to act so? A word of inquiry or explanationmight restore all in a moment."
"Right or wrong, I never did and never will humour the whims of suchkind of people. No, no. Let her pout it out! That's the way to curesuch people."
"I don't think so, Louisa. She is unhappy from some real orimaginary cause. That cause it is no doubt in your power to remove."
"But she has no right to imagine causes of offence; and I don'tchoose to have people act as she is now acting towards me from mereimaginary causes. No; let her pout it out, I say. It will teach hera good lesson."
Louisa spoke with indignant warmth.
"Were you never mistaken?" asked Mrs. Appleton, in a grave tone.
"Of course, I've been mistaken many a time."
"Very well. Have you never been mistaken in reference to another'saction towards you?"
"I presume so."
"And have not such mistakes sometimes given you pain?"
"I cannot recall any instances just at this moment, but I have nodoubt they have."
"Very well. Just imagine yourself in Maria's position; would you notthink it kind in any one to step forward and disabuse you of anerror that was stealing away your peace of mind?"
"Yes; but, Mrs. Appleton, I don't know anything about the cause ofMaria's strange conduct. She may see that in my character ordisposition to which she is altogether uncongenial, and may havemade up her mind not to keep my company any longer. Or she may feelherself, all at once, above me. And I'm not the one, I can tell you,to cringe to any living mortal. I am as good as she is, or any oneelse!"
"Gently, gently, Louisa! Don't fall into the very fault you condemnin Maria; that of imagining a sentiment to be entertained by anotherwhich she does not hold, and then growing indignant over the ideaand at the person supposed to hold it."
"I can't see clearly the force of what you say, Mrs. Appleton; andtherefore I must come back to what I remarked a little while ago:She must pout it out."
"You are wrong, Louisa," her friend replied, "and I cannot let yourest in that wrong, if it is in my power to correct it. Perhaps, byrelating a circumstance that occurred with myself a few years ago, Imay be able to make an impression on your mind. I had, and stillhave, an esteemed friend, amiable and sincere, but extremelysensitive. She is too apt to make mistakes about other people'sestimation of her, which, I often told her, is a decided fault ofcharacter. That she has only to be self-conscious of integrity, andthen she will be truly estimated. Well, this friend would sometimesimagine that I treated her coolly, or indifferently, or thrust ather feelings, when I felt towards her all the while a very warmaffection. The consequence would be, that she would assume a cold oroffended exterior. But I never said to myself, 'Let her pout itout.' I knew that she was mistaken, and that she was reallysuffering under her mistake; and I would always go to her, andkindly inquire the cause of her changed manner. The result was, ofcourse, an immediate restoration of good feeling, often accompaniedby a confession of regret at having injured me by imagining that Ientertained unkind sentiments when I did not. On one occasion Inoticed a kind of reserve in her manner; but thinking there might besome circumstances known only to herself, that gave her trouble, Idid not seem to observe it. On the next morning I was exceedinglypained and surprised to receive a note from her, in something likethe following language--
"The fact is, Mrs. Appleton, I cannot and will not bear any longeryour manner towards me. You seem to think that I have no feelings.And besides, you assume an air of superiority and patronage thatis exceedingly annoying. Last night your manner was insufferable. AsI have just said, I cannot and will not bear such an assumption onyour part. And now let me say, that I wish, hereafter, to beconsidered by you as a stranger. As such I shall treat you. Do notattempt to answer this, do not attempt to see me, for I wish for nohumiliating explanations.'
"Now what would you have done in such a case, Louisa?"
"I would have taken her at her word, of course," was the promptreply; "did not you?"
"Oh, no; that would not have been right."
"I must confess, Mrs. Appleton, that your ideas of right, and mine,are very different. This lady told you expressly that she did notwish to hold any further intercourse with you."
"Exactly. But, then, she would not have said so, had she not beendeceived by an erroneous idea. Knowing this, it became my duty toendeavour to remove the false impression."
"I must confess, Mrs. Appleton, that I cannot see it in the samelight. I don't believe that we are called upon to humour the whimsof every one. It does such people, as you speak of, good to be letalone, and have their pout out. If you notice them, it makes themten times as bad."
"A broad assertion like that you have just made needs proof, Louisa.I, for one, do not believe that it is true. If an individual, undera false impression, be let alone to 'pout it out,' the mere pouting,as you call it, does not bring a conviction that the cause ofunpleasant feeling is altogether imaginary. The ebullition willsubside in time, and the subject of it may seem to forget the cause;but to do so, is next to impossible where the false impression isnot removed. Now let me tell you how I did in reference to thefriend I have just mentioned."
"Well. How did you do?"
"After the acute pain of mind which was caused by her note hadsubsided, I began to examine, as far as I could recollect them, allmy words and actions towards her on the previous evening. In one ortwo things, I thought I could perceive that which to one of hersensitive disposition might appear in a wrong light. I remembered,too, that in her domestic relations there were some circumstances ofa painful character, and I knew that these weighed heavily upon hermind, often depressing her spirits very much. One of thesecircumstances, though perfectly beyond her control, was extremelyhumiliating to a high-minded and somewhat proud-spirited woman. Allthese things I turned over in my mind, and instead of sufferingmyself to feel incensed against her for the unkind note she hadwritten to me, I endeavoured to find excuses for her, and topalliate her fault all that I could. What troubled me most, was thealmost insurmountable barrier that she had thrown between us. 'Donot attempt to answer this; do not attempt to see me;' were strongpositions; and my pride rose up, and forbade me to break throughthem. But pride could not stand before the awakening of betterfeelings. 'I must see her. I will see her!' I said.
"This resolution taken, I determined that I would not call upon heruntil towards evening, thus giving her time for reflection. The hourat length came in which I had made up my mind to perform a mostpainful duty, and I dressed myself for the trying visit. When Ipulled the bell, on pausing at her door, I was externally calm, butinternally agitated.
"'Tell Mrs.----that a friend wishes to speak to her,' said I to theservant who showed me into the parlour. I did not feel at liberty toask her not to mention my name; but I emphasized the word 'friend,'in hopes that she would understand my meaning. But she either didnot or would not, for in a few minutes she returned and said, in aconfused and hesitating voice,
"'Mrs.--says that she does not wish to see you.'"
"And you left the house on the instant?" Louisa said, in anindignant tone.
"No, I did not," was Mrs. Appleton's calm reply.
"Not after such an insult! Pardon me--but I should call it a breachof politeness for any one to remain in the house of another undersuch circumstances."
"But, Louisa, you must remember that there are exceptions to everygeneral rule; and also, that the same act may be good or bad,according to the end which the actor has in view. If I had proposedto myself any mere sinister and selfish end in remaining in thehouse of my friend after such an unkind and to me, at the time,cruel repulse, I should have acted wrong; but my end was to benefitmy friend--to disabuse her of a most painful mistake, which I couldonly do by meeting her, and letting her ears take in the tones of myvoice, that she might thus judge of my sincerity."
Louisa did not reply, and Mrs. Appleton continued,--
"'Tell Mrs.----,' said I to the servant, 'that I am very anxious tosee her, and that she must not refuse me an interview.' In a fewminutes she returned with the positive refusal of Mrs.----to see me.There was one thing that I did not want to do--one thing that Ihesitated to do, and that was to force myself upon my estrangedfriend by intruding upon her, even in her own chamber, where she hadretired to be secure from my importunity. But I looked to the end Ihad in view. 'Is not the end a good one?' I said, as I mused overthe unpleasant position in which I found myself. 'Will not evenMrs.----thank me for the act after she shall have perceived hererror?' Thus I argued with myself, and finally made up my mind thatI would compel an interview by entering my friend's chamber, eventhough she had twice refused to see me.
"As I resolved to do, so I acted. Once fully convinced that the actwas right, I compelled myself to do it, without once hesitating orlooking back. My low knock at her chamber-door was unanswered. Ipaused but a few moments before opening it. There stood my friend,with a pale yet firm countenance, and as I advanced she looked mesteadily in the face with a cold, repulsive expression.
"'Mrs.----,' said I, extending my hand and forcing a smile, whilethe tears came to my eyes, and my voice trembled--'if I had beenguilty of the feelings with which you have charged me, I would nothave thus sought you, in spite of all your repulses. Let me nowdeclare to you, in the earnestness of a sincere heart, that I aminnocent of all you allege against me. I have always regarded you asone of my choicest friends. I have always endeavoured to prefer youbefore myself, instead of setting myself above you. You have,therefore, accused me wrongfully, but I do most heartily forgiveyou. Will you not then forgive me for an imaginary fault?'
"For a few moments after I commenced speaking, she continued to lookat me with the same cold, repulsive stare, not deigning to touch thehand that I still extended. But she saw that I was sincere; she feltthat I was sincere, and this melted her down. As I ceased speaking,she started forward with a quick, convulsed movement, and throwingher arms around me, hid her face in my bosom and wept aloud. It wassome time before the tumult of her feelings subsided.
"'Can you indeed forgive me?' she at length said; 'my strange,blind, wayward folly?'
"'Let us be friends as we were, Mrs.----,' I replied, 'and let thishour be forgotten, or only remembered as a seal to our friendship.'
"From that day, Louisa, there has been no jarring string in ourfriendly intercourse. Mrs.----really felt aggrieved; she thoughtthat she perceived in my conduct all that she had alleged, and itwounded her to the quick. But the earnest sincerity with which Isought her out and persisted in seeing her, convinced her that shehad altogether misunderstood the import of my manner, which, underthe peculiar state of her feelings, put on a false appearance."
"Well, Mrs. Appleton," Louisa said with a deep inspiration, as thatlady ceased speaking, "I cannot say that I think you did wrong:indeed, I feel that you were right; but I cannot act from suchunselfish motives; it is not in me."
"But you can compel yourself to do right, Louisa, even where thereis no genuine good impulse prompting to correct actions. It is byour thus compelling ourselves, and struggling against the activityof a wrong motive, that a right one is formed. If I had consultedonly my feelings, and had suffered only offended self-love to speak,I should never have persevered in seeing my friend; to this daythere would have been a gulf between us."
"Still, it seems to me that we ought not, as a general thing, tohumour persons in these idle whims; it only confirms them in habitsof mind that make them sources of perpetual annoyance to theirfriends. Indeed, as far as I am concerned, I desire to be freed fromacquaintances of this description; I do not wish my peace ever andanon interfered with in such an unpleasant way."
"We should not," Mrs. Appleton replied, "consider only ourselves inthese, or indeed in any matters pertaining to social intercourse,but should endeavour sometimes to look away from what is mostpleasant and gratifying to ourselves, and study to make othershappy. You know that the appearance which true politeness puts on isthat of preferring others to ourselves. We offer them the bestseats, or the most eligible positions; or present them with thechoicest viands at the table. We introduce subjects of conversationthat we think will interest others more than ourselves, and denyourselves in various ways, that others may be obliged and gratified.Now, the question is, are these mere idle and unmeaning forms? Or isit right that we should feel as we act? If they are unmeaning forms,then are the courtesies of social intercourse a series of acts mostgrossly hypocritical. If not so, then it is right that we shouldprefer others to ourselves; and it is right for us, when we findthat a friend is under a painful mistake--even if to approach hermay cause some sacrifice of our feelings--for us to go to thatfriend and disabuse her mind of error. Do you not think so, Louisa?"
"I certainly cannot gainsay your position, Mrs. Appleton; but stillI feel altogether disinclined to make any overtures to Maria."
"Why so, Louisa?"
"Because I can imagine no cause for her present strange conduct, andtherefore see no way of approaching"--
The individual about whom they had been conversing passed near themat this moment, and caused Mrs. Appleton and Louisa to remember thatthey were prolonging their conversation to too great an extent for asocial party.
"We will talk about this again," Mrs. Appleton said, rising andpassing to the side of Maria.
"You do not seem cheerful to-night, Maria; or am I mistaken in myobservation of your face?" Mrs. Appleton said in a pleasant tone.
"I was not aware that there was any thing in my manner thatindicated the condition of mind to which you allude," the young ladyreplied, with a smile.
"There seemed to me such an indication, but perhaps it was only anappearance."
"Perhaps so," said Maria, with something of abstraction in hermanner. A silence, embarrassing in some degree to both parties,followed, which was broken by an allusion of Mrs. Appleton's toLouisa Graham.
To this, Maria made no answer.
"Louisa is a girl of kind feelings," remarked Mrs. Appleton.
"She is so esteemed," Maria replied, somewhat coldly.
"Do you not think so, Maria?"
"Why should I think otherwise?"
"I am sure I cannot tell; but I thought there was something in yourmanner that seemed to indicate a different sentiment."
To this the young lady made no reply, and Mrs. Appleton did not feelat liberty to press the subject, more particularly as she wished toinduce Louisa, if she could possibly do so, to sacrifice herfeelings and go to Maria with an inquiry as to the cause of herchanged manner. She now observed closely the manner of Maria, andsaw that she studiously avoided coming into contact with Louisa.Thus the evening passed away, and the two young ladies retiredwithout having once spoken to each other.
Unlike too many of us under similar circumstances, Mrs. Appleton didnot say within herself, "This is none of my business. If they havefallen out, let them make it up again." Or, "If she chooses to getthe 'pouts' for nothing, let her pout it out." But she thoughtseriously about devising some plan to bring about explanations and agood understanding again between two who had no just cause for notregarding each other as friends. It would have been an easy matterto have gone to Maria and to have asked the cause of her changedmanner towards Louisa, and thus have brought about a reconciliation;but she was desirous to correct a fault in both, and thereforeresolved, if possible, to induce the latter to go to the former.With this object in view, she called upon Louisa early on the nextmorning.
"I was sorry to see," she said, after a brief conversation ongeneral topics, "that there was no movement on the part of eitheryourself or Maria to bring about a mutual good understanding."
"I am sure, Mrs. Appleton, that I haven't any thing to do in thematter," was Louisa's answer. "I have done nothing wilfully to woundor offend Maria, and therefore have no apologies to make. If shesees in my character any thing so exceedingly offensive as to causeher thus to recede from me, I am sure that I do not wish her to haveany kind of intercourse with me."
"That is altogether out of the question, Louisa. Maria has seennothing real in you at which to be offended; it is an imaginarysomething that has blinded her mind."
"In that case, Mrs. Appleton, I must say, as I said at first--Lether pout it out. I have no patience with any one who acts sofoolishly."
"You must pardon my importunity, Louisa," her persevering friendreplied. "I am conscious that the position you have taken is a wrongone, and I cannot but hope that I shall be able to make you see it."
"I don't know, Mrs. Appleton; none are so blind, it is said, as theywho will not see," Louisa replied, with a meaning smile.
"So you are conscious of an unwillingness to see the truth ifopposed to your present feelings," said Mrs. Appleton, smiling inreturn; "I have some hope of you now."
"You think so?"
"Oh, yes; the better principles of your mind are becoming moreactive, and I now feel certain that you will think of Maria asunhappy from some erroneous idea which it is in your power toremove."
"But her unkind and ungenerous conduct towards me"--
"Don't think of that, Louisa; think only if it be not in your poweragain to restore peace to her mind; again to cause her eyes tobrighten and her lips to smile when you meet her. It is in yourpower--I know that it is. Do not, then, let me beg of you, abusethat power, and suffer one heart to be oppressed when a word fromyou can remove the burden that weighs it down."
To this appeal Laura remained silent for a few moments, and thenlooking up, said, "What would you have me do, Mrs. Appleton?"
"Nothing but what you see to be clearly right. Do not act simplyfrom my persuasion. I urge you as I do, that you may perceive it tobe a duty to go to Maria and try to disabuse her of an error that isproducing unhappiness."
"Then how do you think I ought to act?"
"It seems to me that you should go to Maria, and ask her, with thatsincerity and frankness that she could not mistake, the cause of herchanged manner; and that you should, at the same time, say that youwere altogether unconscious of having said or done any thing towound or offend her."
"I will do it, Mrs. Appleton," said Louisa, after musing for a fewmoments.
"But does it seem to you right that you should do so?"
"It does when I lose sight of myself, and think of Maria as standingto another in the same light that she really stands to me."
"I am glad that you have thus separated your own feelings from thematter; that is the true way to view every subject that has regardto our actions towards others. Go, then, to your estranged friend onthis mission of peace, and I know that the result will be pleasantto both of you."
"I am fully convinced that it is right for me to do so; and more, Iam fully resolved to do what I see to be right."
About an hour after the closing of this interview, Louisa called atthe house of her friend. It was some minutes after she had sent upher name before Maria descended to the parlour to meet her. As shecame in she smiled a faint welcome, extending at the same time herhand in a cold formal manner. Louisa was chilled at this, for herfeelings were quick; but she suppressed every weakness with aneffort, and said, as she still held the offered hand within herown--
"There must be something wrong, Maria, or you would never treat meso coldly. As I am altogether unconscious of having said or done anything to wound your feelings, or injure you in any way, I have feltconstrained to come and see you, and ask if in any thing I haveunconsciously done you an injury."
There was a pause of some moments, during which Maria was evidentlyendeavouring to quiet her thoughts and feelings, so as to give acoherent and rational response to what had been said; but this shewas unable to do.
"I am a weak and foolish girl, Louisa," she at length said, as themoisture suffused her eyes; "and now I am conscious that I havewronged you. Let us forget the past, and again be friends as wewere."
"I am still your friend, Maria, and still wish to remain yourfriend; but in order that, hereafter, there may be no further breachof this friendship, would it not be well for you to tell me,frankly, in what manner I have wounded your feelings?"
"Perhaps so; but still I would rather not tell the cause; itinvolves a subject upon which I do not wish to speak. Be satisfied,then, Louisa, that I am fully convinced that you did not mean towound me. Let this (kissing her tenderly) assure you that my oldfeelings have all returned. But do not press me upon a point that Ishrink from even thinking about."
There was something so serious, almost solemn in the manner of theyoung lady, that Louisa felt that it would be wrong to urge her uponthe subject. But their reconciliation was complete.
So much interest did Mrs. Appleton feel in the matter, that shecalled in, during the afternoon of the same day, to see Louisa.
"Well, it's all made up," was almost the first word uttered as Mrs.Appleton came in.
"I am truly glad to hear it," replied that lady.
"And I am glad to be able to say so; but there is one thing that Ido not like: I could not prevail upon her to tell me the cause ofher coldness towards me."
"I am sorry for that, because, not knowing what has given offence,you are all the time liable again to trespass on feelings that youdesire not to wound."
"So I feel about it; but the subject seemed so painful to her that Idid not press it."
"When did you first notice a change in her manner?"
"About a week ago, when we were spending an evening at Mrs.Trueman's."
"Cannot you remember something which you then said that might havewounded her?"
"No, I believe not. I have tried several times to recall what I thensaid, but I can think of nothing but a light jest which I passedupon her about her certainly coming of a crazy family."
"Surely you did not say that, Louisa!"
"Yes, I did. And I am sure that I thought no harm of it. We wereconversing gayly, and she was uttering some of her peculiar, andoften strange sentiments, when I made the thoughtless and innocentremark I have alluded to. No one replied, and there was a momentarysilence that seemed to me strange. From that time her mannerchanged. But I have never believed that my playful remark was thecause. I think her a girl of too much good sense for that."
"Have you never heard that her father was for many years in thehospital, and at last died there a raving maniac?" asked Mrs.Appleton with a serious countenance.
"Never," was the positive answer.
"It is true that such was his miserable end, Louisa."
"Then it is all explained. Oh, how deeply I must have wounded her!"
"Deeply, no doubt. But it cannot be helped. The wound, I trust, isnow nearly healed." Then, after a pause, Mrs. Appleton resumed:
"Let this lesson never be forgotten, my young friend. Suppose youhad followed your own impulses, and let Maria 'pout it out,' as yousaid; how much would both she and yourself have suffered--she, underthe feeling that you had wantonly insulted and wounded her; and you,in estranged friendship, and under the imputation, unknown toyourself, of having most grossly violated the very first principlesof humanity. Let the lesson, then, sink deeply into your heart.Never again permit any one to grow cold towards you suddenly,without inquiring the cause. It is due to yourself and yourfriends."
"I shall never forget the lesson, Mrs. Appleton," was Louisa'semphatic response.
THE END.
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