FAIR PLAY A NOVEL

CHAPTER I. THE FOUR BELLES OF BELLEMONT.

“God created woman, a living soul, worthy to stand in His presence and worship him! and if it were only from the reverence she owes him, she should never degrade herself to be any man’s slave! God endowed woman with individual life—with power, will and understanding, brain, heart and hands to do His work; and if it were only in gratitude to him, she should never commit the moral suicide of becoming the nonentity of which man’s law makes a wife!”

She was a splendid creature who uttered this heterodoxy, a magnificent and beautiful creature! She spoke fervently, earnestly, passionately, with blazing eyes, flushed cheeks and crimsoned lips that seemed to breathe the fire that burned in her enthusiastic soul.

She was the most brilliant of a group of four lovely young girls who were seated on the fresh grass, in a grove of magnolia trees on the south banks of the James.

Before them flowed the fair river, fringed with wooded shores and dotted with green isles, all sparkling in the early sunlight of a June morning.

Behind them, from amidst its ornamented grounds, arose the white walls of Bellemont College for young ladies.

The first day of June was the annual commencement of the college. And these four young girls, all dressed in purest white robes with rose-colored wreaths and sashes, had sauntered out together and grouped themselves under the magnolia trees to wait for the ringing of the bell which should call them to the exhibition room.

6Four more beautiful young creatures than these could scarcely be found in the world. They were called the Four Belles of Bellemont. They would have been belles anywhere and borne off palms of beauty from all other competitors. Yet beautiful as each one was, the four were not rival belles; because, in fact, each one was of a totally different style from all the others. They might be said to represent the four orders of female beauty—the blue, gray, hazel and black-eyed woman.

So far were they from being rivals, that they were fast friends, banded in an alliance for offense and defense against the whole school, if not the whole world!

Britomarte Conyers, the man-hater, the woman’s champion, the marriage renouncer, first in beauty, grace and intellect, was, as I said, a magnificent creature—not in regard to size, for she was not so tall as the blue-eyed belle, nor so full-fleshed as the hazel-eyed one; but magnificent in the sense of conscious strength, ardor and energy with which she impressed all. She felt and made you feel, that if her earnest soul had been clothed with the form of a man, she would have been one to govern the minds of men and guide the fortunes of nations; or, woman as she was, if law and custom had allowed her freer action and a fairer field, she would have influenced the progress of humanity and filled a place in history.

Britomarte’s present position and prospects were not very brilliant. She was the orphan ward of a maiden aunt, who had sent her to this school to be educated as a governess; and a hard struggle with the world was all that she had to look forward to; but certainly, if ever a woman was formed to fight the battle of life without fear and without reproach, it was this brave, spirited, energetic young amazon.

In this quartette of fair girls the second in merit was certainly Erminie Rosenthal, the daughter of a Lutheran preacher. Erminie was above the medium height, with a well-developed, beautifully rounded, buxom form; splendidly moulded features, blooming complexion, softly shining, hazel eyes, and a shower of bright, auburn ringlets shading the sweetest face in the whole group.

The third in this bevy of beauties was Elfrida Fielding, the daughter of a thriving farmer. Elfie was small, 7slight, and elegant in figure, and dark in complexion, with a rich crimson flush upon cheeks and lips, and with black eyes, eyelashes and eyebrows, and jet black hair, cut short, parted on the left side, and worn in crisp curls like a boy’s. Elfie was the wild sprite, the mischievous monkey, the fast little girl of the party. She was lively, witty, impulsive, excitable, fickle, and had an especial affinity for—anything and everything in its turn, and an especial mission to engage in—anything and everything that turned up.

Fourth and last among the four belles of Bellemont, though certainly first in social position, was Alberta Goldsborough, the daughter of a wealthy merchant in Richmond, and the heiress in her own right of a rich plantation on the James. Alberta was tall, slender and dignified, with classic, marble-like features, dazzlingly fair complexion, light golden hair, and light blue eyes. She was a statuesque blond beauty.

The four belles, languidly reclining under the magnolia trees, had been discussing as schoolgirls always do when they get together out of the sight of their teachers—first the highly important subject of dress; Elfie exclaiming indignantly at the outrage of being obliged to wear rose-colored trimmings, when maize or cherry suited her brilliant brunette beauty so much better; and Alberta placidly adding that she herself would have preferred pale blue or mauve as more becoming to her blond complexion. Erminie made no objection to the uniform, which was perfectly adapted to her blooming loveliness; and Britomarte was too indifferent to the subject to join in the conversation. But when their talk turned upon matters of secondary importance, namely love and marriage, and they had talked a great deal of girlish nonsense thereupon, then Britomarte broke forth with the words that opened this story.

“Are you right, dear Britomarte?” questioned Erminie, lifting her soft, sunny, hazel eyes to the face of the speaker, with a loving, deprecating reverence, as though asking pardon for doubting that any word of her oracle could be less authoritative than those of Holy Writ. “Are you quite sure that you are perfectly right?”

“I am,” answered Britomarte, firmly.

8“But is not man’s law of marriage founded upon God’s?” timidly persisted Erminie, laying her hands upon the lap of her idol.

“No! Those who say that it is, repeat a falsehood, invented by man and inspired by Satan! The law of marriage founded on the law of God, indeed! There is not a line or a word in the books of Moses or the gospels of Christ to justify the base assertion? Pray, were the glorious women of the Old Testament, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, Esther, Deborah, Judith, Jael—women who ruled with men—had talked with God and His angels—or were the divine women of the New Testament, Mary, Elizabeth, Anna—the mother of the Christ, the mother of the Baptist, the Prophetess of the Temple—were any of these, I say, the mere nonentities that man’s laws makes of married women? Never! And more I say! Any man who approves of the present laws of marriage that take away a married woman’s property and liberty, and even legal existence—any man, I say, who approves those laws is a despot and despoiler at heart, and would be a robber and murderer if the fear of prisons and scaffolds did not hold him in restraint! And any woman who disapproves these laws, yet dares not express

her disapproval, is a slave and a coward who deserves her fate!”

“Britomarte, dear, how warm you are. Your cheeks are quite flushed. Take my fan and try not to get so excited,” said Alberta, coolly, presenting a pink and spangled toy to the ardent amazon.

“Hold your tongue! Thank you, I don’t want it,” answered Britomarte, waving away the proffered article.

“But, Britomarte, love,” murmured Erminie, leaning upon the champion’s lap, and lifting her soft hazel eyes to the champion’s proud face, with that appealing gaze with which the loving plead with the fiery, “Britomarte, darling, ‘Wives, obey your husbands’ are the words of Holy Writ!”

With an impatient gesture Britomarte pushed off her worshiper, exclaiming:

“Paul said that! He was a dry old lawyer, a bookworm and a bachelor! What did he know about it? And besides, if he had been like Jacob, a married man, 9with two wives, and two handmaids, and twelve children, I would not take the word of the old apostle any more than I would that of a modern preacher, unsupported by the law of Moses and the gospel of Christ! And man’s legislation upon marriage has been guided neither by law nor gospel!”

“Bosh!” exclaimed Elfie, whom neither pastors nor masters had been able to break of the use of slang, “let the poor wretches make all the laws in their own favor, if it amuses or helps to deceive them. They like it, and it don’t hurt us! We needn’t trouble our heads to keep their laws, you know! Let who will bother themselves about women’s rights, so we have our own way! And anything we can’t bluster or coax out of our natural enemy ain’t worth having! Why, law! girls, the creatures are easily enough managed when you once get used to them! Why, there are no less than three governors at Sunnyslopes—one pap and two uncles; but who do you think, now, rules the roost at Sunnyslopes?”

“You do, when you are at home,” suggested Britomarte.

“You better believe it, my dear! Why, law, girls, I can wind pap and uncles round my finger as easily as I can this blade of grass,” said Elfie, suiting the action to the word with a mischievous sparkle in her bright black eyes.

“Well, for my part,” said the fair Alberta, coolly playing with the gold chain upon her bosom, “whenever I shall be engaged to be married, it will, of course, be to the proper sort of person. And papa will see that proper settlements are drawn up between us, and that my own fortune is settled upon myself to spend as I please. In that way I shall secure all the rights I care about. I must have a splendid establishment, with costly furniture, and carriages, and horses, and servants, and dresses and jewelry, and unlimited pocket-money. And so that I have all that, my husband may do all the voting and make all the laws for both of us.”

“Yes!” exclaimed Britomarte, bitterly, “it is you and such as you, Alberta, that retard the progress of woman’s emancipation! If there were no willing slaves, there could be no successful tyrants! You are quite willing to 10sell your liberty for lucre—to become a slave, so that your chains and fetters be of gold!”

“Yes, these ornaments are rather like handcuffs, are they not?” said Alberta, slightly raising her eyebrows as she displayed the priceless diamond bracelets on her wrists. “But I do not see the justice of your words, Britomarte, since I certainly do not intend to sell my hand for money, but only to have my own inherited fortune settled upon myself.”

“For which simple price of justice you are willing to concede your most sacred civil and political rights!”

Alberta shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said. “I speak to you of pocket-money, and you answer me with politics. Bah! why should I care, so that I have a fortune to spend independent of my future husband? For just think what a trouble it would be to have to ask him for money every time I wanted to go shopping!”

“Oh! a horrid nuisance! I think I shall follow your example, Alba! I shall get pap to settle the niggers, and the money, and the old blind mare, and all the rest of the personal on me by myself, so that my natural enemy, whenever I shall fall into his hands, can’t take it from me. In return for which I will promise to keep in my sphere, and not run for constable nor Congress,” said Elfie.

“You are both right so far as you go,” said Britomarte, earnestly, “but you don’t go far enough. A girl with property is often married only for that property. And if her husband should be a prodigal and squander it, and bring her to want, or if he should be a miser and hoard it, and deprive her of the comforts of life, she has no redress. Therefore, it is well that a woman’s property should be settled upon herself, and that she should be independent of her husband, at least as far as money can make her so. What do you say, my dear?” she inquired, turning to Erminie.

Erminie hesitated, the bright bloom wavered on her cheeks, and then deepened into a vivid blush. She dropped her long-fringed eyelids over her soft eyes, and answered, gently:

“I am glad I am not rich; very glad that I have nothing 11at all of my own. Now I go to my dear father for everything I want, and it is sweet to receive it from his hands; for he never refuses me anything he can afford to give, and I never ask him for anything he cannot spare.”

And the Lutheran minister’s daughter paused thoughtfully, as if in some tender reminiscence of her absent parent.

“But we are not talking about papas—we are talking about hubs,” exclaimed Elfie, impatiently. “We are cussing and discussing the best means of offense and defense against our natural enemies, meaning our future hubs—poor wretches!”

“I know,” said Erminie, gravely.

Then, turning her soft eyes, that had strange mesmeric power in their steady tenderness, upon the face of Britomarte, she continued:

“And, as I am not rich, as I have nothing at all of my own, no one will ever marry me for anything else but affection. And, as I find it so sweet to depend on my dear father, who loves me, I shall find it very sweet also to depend on another who shall love me—ah! if only half as well as he does!”

“I hope you will remain with your father, my darling. Fathers may be trusted with their daughters—sometimes. The same cannot be said of lovers or husbands,” said Britomarte, earnestly, and laying her hand caressing upon the bright head that leaned against her bosom. “Yes, I hope you will never commit that spiritual suicide of which I spoke.”

Erminie gently lifted her head from her queen’s bosom—every motion of the fair girl was gentleness itself—again she hesitated, and the bloom wavered on her face and settled into an intense blush, as she softly said:

“I do not agree with you, dear Britomarte. I cannot. Nor do I like discussions on this subject. It seems sacrilegious to speak so irreverently of the holiest mysteries in nature, for such, indeed, I deem love and marriage; and it seems like unveiling the holy of holies in one’s own sacred bosom to give one’s thoughts and feelings about them. Still, when that, which to me is a divine truth, is assailed even by you, dear Britomarte, I must defend it, if necessary, by laying bare my own heart.”

12“Defend it, then, my love. Come on! I shall mind your fencing about as much as I should the pecking of an excited turtle dove,” said the amazon, with an indulgent smile.

Yet again the bloom wavered and flickered on Erminie’s sensitive cheek as she murmured, softly:

“I have been thinking of all you have said this morning; I have been listening to my heart, and it has told me this: To lose self in the one great vital love a true wife finds in a true husband, is not moral suicide, as you say, but the passing into another life—a double life—deeper, sweeter, more intense, and more satisfying than any known alone. To be content to be guided by his wisdom, and upheld by his strength, and comforted by his love—to have no will but his will, which she makes her own—this is not to be a nonentity, or weak, or silly, or childish, but to be identical with the husband’s greater life—to be wise, strong, womanly. She passes into his life, becomes part and parcel of it. In losing herself she finds herself; in giving herself away she receives herself again—transfigured! Oh! Britomarte, I am not intellectual like you, but I do know, because my heart surely tells me, that the true wife and the true husband are one—one being on this earth, as they will be one angel in heaven,” said the gentle girl, forgetting her timidity in her enthusiasm.

“Bosh!” cried Elfrida Fielding, in disgust, tearing and throwing away the withes of grass she had been winding around her fingers, emblematically of her method of managing natural enemies.

“Bah!” yawned Alberta Goldsborough, shrugging her shoulders.

“Have you seen many such unions in your short life, Erminie?” gravely inquired Britomarte.

“No, I have not; but I know that all unions should be such! As for myself, I do not think I shall ever love; but I do know that I shall never marry unless I shall be sought by one whom I can love with all my heart, and soul, and spirit; whom I can honor almost as I honor my Creator; and I can obey in word and deed, with such perfect assent of my will and understanding, that to obey his will shall be to have my own way!—one who shall 13be to me the life of my life, the arbiter of my fate, almost my God! Yes, that is what I feel I want, and nothing else in the universe will satisfy me! That is what every true woman wants, and nothing else in the universe will satisfy her! Oh! Britomarte—you who are woman’s champion—you greatly bewray woman when you ascribe to the coercion of coarse human laws that divine self-abnegation and devotion which is the instinct and inspiration of her own heart!” exclaimed Erminie.

“The dove pecks sharply—her little beaks are keen,” said Britomarte, smiling. Then, speaking more gravely, she added: “Women might be such angels, my darling, if men were such gods; but you will find few women willing to be so devoted, and fewer men to deserve such devotion. Men do not believe in women’s voluntary self-abnegation, and hence they coerce them by what you call coarse human laws, by what I call unjust, despotic, egotistical laws. I return to my point, darling. I hope that you will never marry.”

“I do not think I ever shall, since it is not likely that I shall ever meet with any one such as I have described,” said Erminie.

“Oh, no, that you will not, my dear,” said Elfie; “but you will think you have met such a prodigy, and that will be all the same to you. You will some day run against some commonplace John Thompson or Tom Johnson whom you will take for a Crichton or a Bayard. You are booked for a grand passion, my dear. It is in your system and it must come out. It would kill you if it was to strike in. I pity you, poor child, for that thing don’t pay. I know all about it; I’ve been all along there!”

“You, Elfrida?” exclaimed Alberta, with unusual interest, for her.

“Yes, me, ‘Elfrida!’ You had better believe it!”

“Tell us all about it.”

“I am going to. Well, you see when pap first brought me to this school to finish my education, we stopped in the city a few days to fit me out and show me the sights. One night he took me to see an opera. Hush, girls! I never was inside of an opera house before in my life; and you better believe I was dazzled by the splendor and magnificence around me, and found quite enough to do to 14gape and stare at the gorgeous decorations of the house and the beautiful dresses of the ladies, until the curtain rose. Then, whip your horses! The opera was ‘Lucia di Lammermuir,’ and the part of Edgar Ravenswood was performed by Signor Adriano di Bercelloni.”

At the mention of that name Britomarte became attentive.

“Now, whether it was the jaunty bonnet, with the heron’s feather, or the crimson tartan plaid, or the black velvet tunic coat, or the white cross-gartered hose and buskins, or the music, or the man, or all together, I don’t know; but I fell over head and ears in love with Edgar Ravenswood. Heavens! how I adored him! Don’t frown, Britty, And, ah! how I hated Lucia, who had the divine happiness of being wooed in strains of heavenly music by Edgar Ravenswood! And, oh! how ardently I aspired to be a great prima donna, and play Lucia to that exalted being, Edgar. Alba, if you smile that way I’ll bite you.”

“How did it end?” inquired Erminie.