"Ready." "And I." "And I." "Where shall we go?"

MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM.

Grace Van Cortlant was the first to make her appearance after the
retreat from the drawing-room. It has often been said that, pretty as
the American females incontestably are, as a whole they appear better
in _demi-toilette,_ than when attired for a ball. With what would be
termed high dress in other parts of the world, they are little
acquainted; but reversing the rule of Europe, where the married
bestow the most care on their personal appearance, and the single are
taught to observe a rigid simplicity, Grace now seemed sufficiently
ornamented in the eyes of the fastidious baronet, while, at the same
time, he thought her less obnoxious to the criticism just mentioned,
than most of her young countrywomen, in general.

An _embonpoint_ that was just sufficient to distinguish her from most
of her companions, a fine colour, brilliant eyes, a sweet smile, rich
hair, and such feet and hands as Sir George Templemore had, somehow--
he scarcely knew how, himself--fancied could only belong to the
daughters of peers and princes, rendered Grace so strikingly
attractive this evening, that the young baronet began to think her
even handsomer than her cousin. There was also a charm in the
unsophisticated simplicity of Grace, that was particularly alluring
to a man educated amidst the coldness and mannerism of the higher
classes of England. In Grace, too, this simplicity was chastened by
perfect decorum and _retenue_ of deportment; the exuberance of the
new school of manners not having helped to impair the dignity of her
character, or to weaken the charm of diffidence. She was less
finished in her manners than Eve, certainly; a circumstance, perhaps,
that induced Sir George Templemore to fancy her a shade more simple,
but she was never unfeminine or unladylike; and the term vulgar, in
despite of all the capricious and arbitrary rules of fashion, under
no circumstances, could ever be applied to Grace Van Cortlandt. In
this respect, nature seemed to have aided her; for had not her
associations raised her above such an imputation, no one could
believe that she would be obnoxious to the charge, had her lot in
life been cast even many degrees lower than it actually was.

It is well known that, after a sufficient similarity has been created
by education to prevent any violent shocks to our habits or
principles, we most affect those whose characters and dispositions
the least resemble our own. This was probably one of the reasons why
Sir George Templemore, who, for some time, had been well assured of
the hopelessness of his suit with Eve, began to regard her scarcely
less lovely cousin, with an interest of a novel and lively nature.
Quick-sighted and deeply interested in Grace's happiness, Miss
Effingham had already detected this change in the young baronet's
inclinations, and though sincerely rejoiced on her own account, she
did not observe it without concern; for she understood better than
most of her countrywomen, the great hazards of destroying her peace
of mind, that are incurred by transplanting an American woman into
the more artificial circles of the old world.

"I shall rely on your kind offices, in particular, Miss Van
Cortlandt, to reconcile Mrs. Jarvis and Mrs. Hawker to the liberty I
am about to take," cried Sir George, as Grace burst upon them in the
library, in a blaze of beauty that, in her case, was aided by her
attire; "and cold-hearted and unchristian-like women they must be,
indeed, to resist such a mediator!"

Grace was unaccustomed to adulation of this sort; for though the
baronet spoke gaily, and like one half trifling, his look of
admiration was too honest to escape the intuitive perception of
woman. She blushed deeply, and then recovering herself instantly,
said with a _naiveté_ that had a thousand charms with her listener--

"I do not see why Miss Effingham and myself should hesitate about
introducing you at either place. Mrs. Hawker is a relative and an
intimate--an intimate of mine, at least--and as for poor Mrs. Jarvis,
she is the daughter of an old neighbour, and will be too glad to see
us, to raise objections. I fancy any one of a certain--" Grace
hesitated and laughed.

"Any one of a certain--?" said Sir George inquiringly.

"Any one from this house," resumed the young lady, correcting the
intended expression, "will be welcome in Spring street."

"Pure, native aristocracy!" exclaimed the baronet with an air of
affected triumph. "This you see, Mr. John Effingham, is in aid of my
argument."

"I am quite of your opinion," returned the gentleman addressed--"as
much native aristocracy as you please, but no hereditary."

The entrance of Eve and Mademoiselle Viefville interrupted this
pleasantry, and the carriages being just then announced, John
Effingham went in quest of Captain Truck, who was in the drawing-room
with Mr. Effingham and Aristabulus.

"I have left Ned to discuss trespass suits and leases with his land-
agent," said John Effingham, as he followed Eve to the street-door.
"By ten o'clock, they will have taxed a pretty bill of costs between
them!"

Mademoiselle Viefville followed John Effingham; Grace came next, and
Sir George Templemore and the Captain brought up the rear. Grace
wondered the young baronet did not offer her his arm, for she had
been accustomed to receive this attention from the other sex, in a
hundred situations in which it was rather an incumbrance than a
service; while on the other hand, Sir George himself would have
hesitated about offering such assistance, as an act of uncalled-for
familiarity.

Miss Van Cortlandt, being much in society, kept a chariot for her own
use, and the three ladies took their seats in it, while the gentlemen
took possession of Mr. Effingham's coach. The order was given to
drive to Spring street, and the whole party proceeded.

The acquaintance between the Effinghams and Mr. Jarvis had arisen
from the fact of their having been near, and, in a certain sense,
sociable neighbours in the country. Their town associations, however,
were as distinct as if they dwelt in different hemispheres, with the
exception of an occasional morning call, and, now and then, a family
dinner given by Mr. Effingham. Such had been the nature of the
intercourse previously to the family of the latter's having gone
abroad, and there were symptoms of its being renewed on the same
quiet and friendly footing as formerly. But no two beings could be
less alike, in certain essentials, than Mr. Jarvis and his wife. The
former was a plain pains-taking, sensible man of business, while the
latter had an itching desire to figure in the world of fashion. The
first was perfectly aware that Mr. Effingham, in education, habits,
associations and manners, was, at least, of a class entirely distinct
from his own; and without troubling himself to analyze causes, and
without a feeling of envy, or unkindness of any sort, while totally
exempt from any undue deference or unmanly cringing, he quietly
submitted to let things take their course. His wife expressed her
surprise that any one in New-York should presume to be _better_ than
themselves; and the remark gave rise to the following short
conversation, on the very morning of the day she gave the party, to
which we are now conducting the reader.

"How do you know, my dear, that any one does think himself our
_better_?" demanded the husband.

"Why do they not all visit us then!"

"Why do you not visit everybody yourself? A pretty household we
should have, if you did nothing but visit every one who lives even in
this street!"

"You surely would not have _me_ visiting the grocers' wives at the
corners, and all the other rubbish of the neighbourhood. What I mean
is that all the people of a certain sort ought to visit all the other
people of a certain sort, in the same town."

"You surely will make an exception, at least on account of numbers. I
saw number three thousand six hundred and fifty this very day on a
cart, and if the wives of all these carmen should visit one another,
each would have to make ten visits daily in order to get through with
the list in a twelvemonth."

"I have always bad luck in making you comprehend these things, Mr.
Jarvis."

"I am afraid, my dear, it is because you do not very clearly
comprehend them yourself. You first say that everybody ought to visit
everybody, and then you insist on it, _you_ will visit none but those
you think good enough to be visited by Mrs. Jared Jarvis."

"What I mean is, that no one in New-York has a right to think
himself, or herself, better than ourselves."

"Better?--In what sense better?"

"In such a sense as to induce them to think themselves too good to
visit us."

"That may be your opinion, my dear, but others may judge differently.
You clearly think yourself too good to visit Mrs. Onion, the grocer's
wife, who is a capital woman in her way; and how do we know that
certain people may not fancy we are not quite refined enough for
them? Refinement is a positive thing, Mrs. Jarvis, and one that has
much more influence on the pleasures of association than money. We
may want a hundred little perfections that escape our ignorance, and
which those who are trained to such matters deem essentials."

"I never met with a man of so little social spirit, Mr. Jarvis!
Really, you are quite unsuited to be a citizen of a republican
country."

"Republican!--I do not really see what republican has to do with the
question. In the first place, it is a droll word for _you_ to use in
this sense at least; for, taking your own meaning of the term, you
are as anti-republican as any woman I know. But a republic does not
necessarily infer equality of condition, or even equality of
rights,--it meaning merely the substitution of the right of the
commonwealth for the right of a prince. Had you said a democracy
there would have been some plausibility in using the word, though
even then its application would have been illogical. If I am a
freeman and a democrat, I hope I have the justice to allow others to
be just as free and democratic as I am myself."

"And who wishes the contrary?--all I ask is a claim to be considered
a fit associate for anybody in this country--in these United States
of America."

"I would quit these United States of America next week, if I thought
there existed any necessity for such an intolerable state of things."

"Mr. Jarvis!--and you, too, one of the Committee of Tammany Hall!"

"Yes, Mrs. Jarvis, and I one of the Committee of Tammany Hall! What,
do you think I want the three thousand six hundred and fifty carmen
running in and out of my house, with their tobacco saliva and pipes,
all day long?"

"Who is thinking of your carmen and grocers!--I speak now only of
genteel people."

"In other words, my dear, you are thinking only of those whom you
fancy to have the advantage of you, and keep those who think of you
in the same way, quite out of sight This is not my democracy and
freedom. I believe that it requires two people to make a bargain, and
although I may consent to dine with A----, if A---- will not consent
to dine with me, there is an end of the matter."

"Now, you have come to a case in point. You often dined with Mr.
Effingham before he went abroad, and yet you would never allow me to
ask Mr. Effingham to dine with us. That is what I call meanness."

"It might be so, indeed, if it were done to save my money. I dined
with Mr. Effingham because I like him; because he was an old
neighbour; because he asked me, and because I found a pleasure in the
quiet elegance of his table and society; and I did not ask him to
dine with me, because I was satisfied he would be better pleased with
such a tacit acknowledgement of his superiority in this respect, than
by any bustling and ungraceful efforts to pay him in kind. Edward
Effingham has dinners enough, without keeping a debtor and credit
account with his guests, which is rather too New-Yorkish, even for
me."

"Bustling and ungraceful!" repeated Mrs. Jarvis, bitterly; "I do not
know that you are at all more bustling and ungraceful than Mr.
Effingham himself."

"No, my dear, I am a quiet, unpretending man, like the great majority
of my countrymen, thank God."

"Then why talk of these sorts of differences in a country in which
the law establishes none?"

"For precisely the reason that I talk of the river at the foot of
this street, or because there is a river. A thing may exist without
there being a law for it. There is no law for building this house,
and yet it is built. There is no law for making Dr. Verse a better
preacher than Dr. Prolix, and yet he is a much better preacher;
neither is there any law for making Mr. Effingham a more finished
gentleman than I happen to be, and yet I am not fool enough to deny
the fact. In the way of making out a bill of parcels, I will not turn
my back to him, I can promise you."

"All this strikes me as being very spiritless, and as particularly
anti-republican," said Mrs. Jarvis, rising to quit the room; "and if
the Effinghams do not come this evening, I shall not enter their
house this winter. I am sure they have no right to pretend to be our
betters, and I feel no disposition to admit the impudent claim."

"Before you go, Jane, let me say a parting word," rejoined the
husband, looking for his hat, "which is just this. If you wish the
world to believe you the equal of any one, no matter whom, do not be
always talking about it, lest they see you distrust the fact
yourself. A positive thing will surely be seen, and they who have the
highest claims are the least disposed to be always pressing them on
the attention of the world. An outrage may certainly be done those
social rights which have been established by common consent, and then
it may be proper to resent it; but beware betraying a consciousness
of your own inferiority, by letting every one see you are jealous of
your station. 'Now, kiss me; here is the money to pay for your finery
this evening, and let me see you as happy to receive Mrs. Jewett from
Albion Place, as you would be to receive Mrs. Hawker herself."

"Mrs. Hawker!" cried the wife, with a toss of her head, "I would not
cross the street to invite Mrs. Hawker and all her clan." Which was
very true, as Mrs. Jarvis was thoroughly convinced the trouble would
be unavailing, the lady in question being as near the head of fashion
in New-York, as it was possible to be in a town that, in a moral
sense, resembles an encampment, quite as much as it resembles a
permanent and a long-existing capital.

Notwithstanding a great deal of management on the part of Mrs. Jarvis
to get showy personages to attend her entertainment, the simple
elegance of the two carriages that bore the Effingham party, threw
all the other equipages into the shade. The arrival, indeed, was
deemed a matter of so much moment, that intelligence was conveyed to
the lady, who was still at her post in the inner drawing-room, of the
arrival of a party altogether superior to any thing that had yet
appeared in her rooms. It is true, this was not expressed in words,
but it was made sufficiently obvious by the breathless haste and the
air of importance of Mrs. Jarvis' sister, who had received the news
from a servant, and who communicated it _propriâ personâ_ to the
mistress of the house.

The simple, useful, graceful, almost indispensable usage of
announcing at the door, indispensable to those who receive much, and
where there is the risk of meeting people known to us by name and not
in person, is but little practised in America. Mrs. Jarvis would have
shrunk from such an innovation, had she known that elsewhere the
custom prevailed, but she was in happy ignorance on this point, as on
many others that were more essential to the much-coveted social
_éclat_ at which she aimed. When Mademoiselle Viefville appeared,
therefore, walking unsupported, as if she were out of leading-
strings, followed by Eve and Grace and the gentlemen of their party,
she at first supposed there was some mistake, and that her visitors
had got into the wrong house; there being an opposition party in the
neighbourhood.

"What brazen people!" whispered Mrs. Abijah Gross, who having removed
from an interior New-England village, fully two years previously,
fancied herself _an fait_ of all the niceties of breeding and social
tact. "There are positively two young ladies actually walking about
without gentlemen!"

But it was not in the power of Mrs. Abijah Gross, with her audible
whisper and obvious sneer and laugh, to put down two such lovely
creatures as Eve and her cousin. The simple elegance of their attire,
the indescribable air of polish, particularly in the former, and the
surpassing beauty and modesty of mien of both, effectually silenced
criticism, after this solitary outbreaking of vulgarity. Mrs. Jarvis
recognized Eve and John Effingham, and her hurried compliments and
obvious delight proclaimed to all near her, the importance she
attached to their visit. Mademoiselle Viefville she had not
recollected in her present dress, and even she was covered with
expressions of delight and satisfaction.

"I wish particularly to present to you a friend that we all prize
exceedingly," said Eve, as soon as there was an opportunity of
speaking. "This is Captain Truck, the gentleman who commands the
Montauk, the ship of which you have heard so much. Ah! Mr. Jarvis,"
offering a hand to him with sincere cordiality, for Eve had known him
from childhood, and always sincerely respected him--"_you_ will
receive my friend with a cordial welcome, I am certain."

She then explained to Mr. Jarvis who the honest captain was, when the
former, first paying the proper respect to his other guests, led the
old sailor aside, and began an earnest conversation on the subject of
the recent passage.

John Effingham presented the baronet, whom Mrs. Jarvis, out of pure
ignorance of his rank in his own country, received with perfect
propriety and self-respect.

"We have very few people of note in town at present, I believe," said
Mrs. Jarvis to John Effingham. "A great traveller, a most interesting
man, is the only person of that sort I could obtain for this evening,
and I shall have great pleasure in introducing you. He is there in
that crowd, for he is in the greatest possible demand; he has seen so
much.--Mrs. Snow, with your permission--really the ladies are
thronging about him as if he were a Pawnee,--have the goodness to
step a little this way, Mr. Effingham--Miss Effingham--Mrs. Snow,
just touch his arm and let him know I wish to introduce a couple of
friends.--Mr. Dodge, Mr. John Effingham, Miss Effingham, Miss Van
Cortlandt. I hope you may succeed in getting him a little to
yourselves, ladies, for he can tell you all about Europe--saw the
king of France riding out to Nully, and has a prodigious knowledge of
things on the other side of the water."

It required a good deal of Eve's habitual self-command to prevent a
smile, but she had the tact and discretion to receive Steadfast as an
utter stranger. John Effingham bowed as haughtily as man can bow, and
then it was whispered that he and Mr. Dodge were rival travellers.
The distance of the former, coupled with an expression of countenance
that did not invite familiarity, drove nearly all the company over to
the side of Steadfast, who, it was soon settled, had seen much the
most of the world, understood society the best, and had moreover
travelled as far as Timbuctoo in Africa. The _clientèle_ of Mr. Dodge
increased rapidly, as these reports spread in the rooms, and those
who had not read the "delightful letters published in the Active
Inquirer," furiously envied those who had enjoyed that high
advantage.

"It is Mr. Dodge, the great traveller," said one young lady, who had
extricated herself from the crowd around the 'lion,' and taken a
station near Eve and Grace, and who, moreover, was a 'blue' in her
own set; "his beautiful and accurate descriptions have attracted
great attention in England, and it is said they have actually been
republished!"

"Have you read them, Miss Brackett?"

"Not the letters themselves, absolutely; but all the remarks on them
in the last week's Hebdomad. Most delightful letters, judging from
those remarks; full of nature and point, and singularly accurate in
all their facts. In this respect they are invaluable, travellers do
fall into such extraordinary errors!"

"I hope, ma'am," said John Effingham, gravely, "that the gentleman
has avoided the capital mistake of commenting on things that actually
exist. Comments on its facts are generally esteemed by the people of
a country, impertinent and unjust; and your true way to succeed, is
to treat as freely as possible its imaginary peculiarities."

Miss Brackett had nothing to answer to this observation, the Hebdomad
having, among its other profundities, never seen proper to touch on
the subject. She went on praising the "Letters," however, not one of
which had she read, or would she read; for this young lady had
contrived to gain a high reputation in her own _coterie_ for taste
and knowledge in books, by merely skimming the strictures of those
who do not even skim the works they pretend to analyze.

Eve had never before been in so close contact with so much flippant
ignorance, and she could not but wonder at seeing a man like her
kinsman overlooked, in order that a man like Mr. Dodge should be
preferred. All this gave John Effingham himself no concern, but
retiring a little from the crowd, he entered into a short
conversation with the young baronet.

"I should like to know your real opinions of this set," he said; "not
that I plead guilty to the childish sensibility that is so common in
all provincial circles to the judgments of strangers, but with a view
to aid you in forming a just estimate of the real state of the
country."

"As I know the precise connexion between you and our host, there can
be no objection to giving a perfectly frank reply. The women strike
me as being singularly delicate and pretty; well dressed, too, I
might add; but, while there is a great air of decency, there is very
little high finish; and what strikes me as being quite odd, under
such circumstances, scarcely any downright vulgarity, or coarseness."

"A Daniel come to judgment! One who had passed a life here, would not
have come so near the truth, simply because he would not have
observed peculiarities, that require the means of comparison to be
detected. You are a little too indulgent in saying there is no
downright vulgarity; for some there is; though surprisingly little
for the circumstances. But of the coarseness that would be so
prominent elsewhere, there is hardly any. True, so great is the
equality in all things, in this country, so direct the tendency to
this respectable mediocrity, that what you now see here, to-night,
may be seen in almost every village in the land, with a few
immaterial exceptions in the way of furniture and other city
appliances, and not much even in these."

"Certainly, as a mediocrity, this is respectable though a fastidious
taste might see a multitude of faults."

"I shall not say that the taste would be merely fastidious, for much
is wanting that would add to the grace and beauty of society, while
much that is wanting would be missed only by the over-sophisticated.
Those young-men, who are sniggering over some bad joke in the corner,
for instance, are positively vulgar, as is that young lady who is
indulging in practical coquetry; but, on the whole, there is little
of this; and, even our hostess, a silly woman, devoured with the
desire of being what neither her social position, education, habits
nor notions fit her to be, is less obtrusive, bustling, and
offensive, than a similar person, elsewhere."

"I am quite of your way of thinking, and intended to ask you to
account for it."

"The Americans are an imitative people of necessity, and they are apt
at this part of imitation, in particular. Then they are less
artificial in all their practices, than older and more sophisticated
nations; and this company has got that essential part of good
breeding, simplicity, as it were _per force_. A step higher in the
social scale, you will see less of it; for greater daring and bad
models lead to blunders in matters that require to be exceedingly
well done, if done at all. The faults here would be more apparent, by
an approach near enough to get into the tone of mind, the forms of
speech, and the attempts at wit."

"Which I think we shall escape to-night, as I see the ladies are
already making their apologies and taking leave. We must defer this
investigation to another time."

"It may be indefinitely postponed, as it would scarcely reward the
trouble of an inquiry."

The gentlemen now approached Mrs. Jarvis, paid their parting
compliments, hunted up Captain Truck, whom they tore by violence from
the good-natured hospitality of the master of the house, and then saw
the ladies into their carriage. As they drove off, the worthy mariner
protested that Mr. Jarvis was one of the honestest men he had ever
met, and announced that he intended giving him a dinner on board the
Montauk, the very next day.

The dwelling of Mrs. Hawker was in Hudson Square; or in a portion of
the city that the lovers of the grandiose are endeavouring to call
St. John's Park; for it is rather an amusing peculiarity among a
certain portion of the emigrants who have flocked into the Middle
States, within the last thirty years, that they are not satisfied
with permitting any family, or thing, to possess the name it
originally enjoyed, if there exists the least opportunity to change
it. There was but a carriage or two before the door, though the
strong lights in the house showed that company had collected.

"Mrs. Hawker is the widow and the daughter of men of long established
New-York families; she is childless, affluent, and universally
respected where known, for her breeding, benevolence, good sense, and
heart," said John Effingham, while the party was driving from one
house to the other. "Were you to go into most of the sets of this
town, and mention Mrs. Hawker's name, not one person in ten would
know there is such a being in their vicinity; the _pêle mêle_ of a
migratory population keeping persons of her character and condition
in life, quite out of view. The very persons who will prattle by the
hour, of the establishments of Mrs. Peleg Pond, and Mrs. Jonah Twist,
and Mrs. Abiram Wattles, people who first appeared on this island
five or six years since, and, who having accumulated what to them are
relatively large fortunes, have launched out into vulgar and
uninstructed finery, would look with surprise at hearing Mrs. Hawker
mentioned as one having any claims to social distinction. Her
historical names are overshadowed in their minds by the parochial
glories of certain local prodigies in the townships whence they
emigrated; her manners would puzzle the comprehension of people whose
imitation has not gone beyond the surface, and her polished and
simple mind would find little sympathy among a class who seldom rise
above a common-place sentiment without getting upon stilts."

"Mrs. Hawker, then, is a lady," observed Sir George Templemore.

"Mrs. Hawker is a lady, in every sense of the word; by position,
education, manners, association, mind, fortune and birth. I do not
know that we ever had more of her class than exist to-day, but
certainly we once had them more prominent in society."

"I suppose, sir," said Captain Truck, "that this Mrs. Hawker is of
what is called the old school?"

"Of a very ancient school, and one that is likely to continue, though
it may not be generally attended."

"I am afraid, Mr. John Effingham, that I shall be like a fish out of
water in such a house. I can get along very well with your Mrs.
Jarvis, and with the dear young lady in the other carriage; but the
sort of woman you have described, will be apt to jam a plain mariner
like myself. What in nature should I do, now, if she should ask me to
dance a minuet?"

"Dance it agreeably to the laws of nature," returned John Effingham,
as the carriages stopped.

A respectable, quiet, and an aged black admitted the party, though
even he did not announce the visiters, while he held the door of the
drawing-room open for them, with respectful attention. Mrs. Hawker
arose, and advanced to meet Eve and her companions, and though she
kissed the cousins affectionately, her reception of Mademoiselle
Viefville was so simply polite as to convince the latter she was
valued on account of her services. John Effingham, who was ten or
fifteen years the junior of the old lady, gallantly kissed her hand,
when he presented his two male companions. After paying the proper
attention to the greatest stranger, Mrs. Hawker turned to Captain
Truck and said--

"This, then, is the gentleman to whose skill and courage you all owe
so much--_we_ all owe so much, I might better have said--the
commander of the Montauk?"

"I have the honour of commanding that vessel, ma'am," returned
Captain Truck, who was singularly awed by the dignified simplicity of
his hostess, although her quiet, natural, and yet finished manner,
which extended even to the intonation of the voice, and the smallest
movement, were as unlike what he had expected as possible; "and with
such passengers as she had last voyage I can only say, it is a pity
that she is not better off for one to take care of her."

"Your passengers give a different account of the matter, but, in
order that I may judge impartially, do me the favour to take this
chair, and let me learn a few of the particulars from yourself."

Observing that Sir George Templemore had followed Eve to the other
side of the room, Mrs. Hawker now resumed her seat, and, without
neglecting any to attend to one in particular, or attending to one in
a way to make him feel oppressed, she contrived, in a few minutes, to
make the captain forget all about the minuet, and to feel much more
at his ease than would have been the case with Mrs. Jarvis, in a
month's intercourse.

In the mean time, Eve had crossed the room to join a lady whose smile
invited her to her side. This was a young, slightly framed female, of
a pleasing countenance, but who would not have been particularly
distinguished, in such a place, for personal charms. Still, her smile
was sweet, her eyes were soft, and the expression of her face was
what might almost be called illuminated As Sir George Templemore
followed her, Eve mentioned his name to her acquaintance, whom she
addressed as Mrs. Bloomfield.

"You are bent on perpetrating further gaiety to-night," said the
latter, glancing at the ball-dresses of the two cousins; "are you in
the colours of the Houston faction, or in those of the Peabody."

"Not in pea-green, certainly," returned Eve, laughing--"as you may
see; but in simple white."

"You intend then to be 'led a measure' at Mrs. Houston's. It were
more suitable than among the other faction."

"Is fashion, then, faction, in New-York?" inquired Sir George.

"Fractions would be a better word, perhaps. But we have parties in
almost every thing, in America; in politics, religion, temperance,
speculations, and taste; why not in fashion?"

"I fear we are not quite independent enough to form parties on such a
subject," said Eve.

"Perfectly well said, Miss Effingham; one must think a little
originally, let it be ever so falsely, in order to get up a fashion.
I fear we shall have to admit our insignificance on this point. You
are a late arrival, Sir George Templemore?"

"As lately as the commencement of this month; I had the honour of
being a fellow-passenger with Mr. Effingham and his family."

"In which voyage you suffered shipwreck, captivity, and famine, if
half we hear be true."

"Report has a little magnified our risks; we encountered some serious
dangers, but nothing amounting to the sufferings you have mentioned."

"Being a married woman, and having passed the crisis in which
deception is not practised, I expect to hear truth again," said Mrs.
Bloomfield, smiling. "I trust, however, you underwent enough to
qualify you all for heroes and heroines, and shall content myself
with knowing that you are here, safe and happy--if," she added,
looking inquiringly at Eve, "one who has been educated abroad _can_
be happy at home."

"One educated abroad _may_ be happy at home, though possibly not in
the modes most practised by the world," said Eve firmly.

"Without an opera, without a court, almost without society!"

"An opera would be desirable, I confess; of courts I know nothing,
unmarried females being cyphers in Europe; and I hope better things
than to think I shall be without society."

"Unmarried females are considered cyphers too, here, provided there
be enough of them with a good respectable digit at their head. I
assure you no one quarrels with the cyphers under such circumstances.
I think, Sir George Templemore, a town like this must be something of
a paradox to you."

"Might I venture to inquire the reason for this opinion!"

"Merely because it is neither one thing nor another. Not a capital,
nor yet merely a provincial place; with something more than commerce
in its bosom, and yet with that something hidden under a bushel. A
good deal more than Liverpool, and a good deal less than London.
Better even than Edinburgh, in many respects, and worse than Wapping,
in others."

"You have been abroad, Mrs. Bloomfield?"

"Not a foot out of my own country; scarcely a foot out of my own
state. I have been at Lake George, the Falls, and the Mountain House;
and, as one does not travel in a balloon, I saw some of the
intermediate places. As for all else, I am obliged to go by report."

"It is a pity Mrs. Bloomfield was not with us, this evening, at Mrs.
Jarvis's," said Eve, laughing. "She might then have increased her
knowledge, by listening to a few cantos from the epic of Mr. Dodge."

"I have glanced at some of that author's wisdom," returned Mrs.
Bloomfield, "but I soon found it was learning backwards. There is a
never-failing rule, by which it is easy to arrive at a traveller's
worth, in a negative sense, at least."

"That is a rule which may be worth knowing," said the baronet, "as it
would save much useless wear of the eyes."

"When one betrays a profound ignorance of his own country, it is a
fair presumption that he cannot be very acute in his observation of
strangers. Mr. Dodge is one of these writers, and a single letter
fully satisfied my curiosity. I fear, Miss Effingham, very inferior
wares, in the way of manners, have been lately imported, in large
quantities, into this country, as having the Tower mark on them."

Eve laughed, but declared that Sir George Templemore was better
qualified than herself to answer such a question.

"We are said to be a people of facts, rather than a people of
theories," continued Mrs. Bloomfield, without attending to the
reference of the young lady, "and any coin that offers passes, until
another that is better, arrives. It is a singular, but a very general
mistake, I believe, of the people of this country, in supposing that
they can exist under the present régime, when others would fail,
because their opinions keep even pace with, or precede the actual
condition of society; whereas, those who have thought and observed
most on such subjects, agree in thinking the very reverse to be the
case."

"This would be a curious condition for a government so purely
conventional," observed Sir George, with interest, "and it certainly
is entirely opposed to the state of things all over Europe."

"It is so, and yet there is no great mystery in it after all.
Accident has liberated us from trammels that still fetter you. We are
like a vehicle on the top of a hill, which, the moment it is pushed
beyond the point of resistance, rolls down of itself, without the aid
of horses. One may follow with the team, and hook on when it gets to
the bottom, but there is no such thing as keeping company with it
until it arrives there."

"You will allow, then, that there is a bottom?'

"There is a bottom to every thing--to good and bad; happiness and
misery; hope, fear, faith and charity; even to a woman's mind, which
I have sometimes fancied the most bottomless thing in nature. There
may, therefore, well be a bottom even to the institutions of
America."

Sir George listened with the interest with which an Englishman of his
class always endeavours to catch a concession that he fancies is
about to favour his own political predilections, and he felt
encouraged to push the subject further.

"And you think the political machine is rolling downwards towards
this bottom?" he said, with an interest in the answer that, living in
the quiet and forgetfulness of his own home, he would have laughed at
himself for entertaining. But our sensibilities become quickened by
collision, and opposition is known even to create love.

Mrs. Bloomfield was quick-witted, intelligent, cultivated and shrewd.
She saw the motive at a glance, and, notwithstanding she saw and felt
all its abuses, strongly attached to the governing principle of her
country's social organization, as is almost universally the case with
the strongest minds and most generous hearts of the nation, she was
not disposed to let a stranger carry away a false impression of her
sentiments on such a point.

"Did you ever study logic, Sir George Templemore?" she asked, archly.

"A little, though not enough I fear to influence my mode of
reasoning, or even to leave me familiar with the terms."

"Oh! I am not about to assail you with _sequiturs_ and _non
sequiturs_ dialectics and all the mysteries of _Denk-Lehre,_ but
simply to remind you there is such a thing as the bottom of a
subject. When I tell you we are flying towards the bottom of our
institutions, it is in the intellectual sense, and not, as you have
erroneously imagined, in an unintellectual sense. I mean that we are
getting to understand them, which, I fear, we did not absolutely do
at the commencement of the 'experiment.'"

"But I think you will admit, that as the civilization of the country
advances, some material changes must occur; your people cannot always
remain stationary; they must either go backwards or forward."

"Up or down, if you will allow me to correct your phraseology. The
civilization of the country, in one sense at least, is retrogressive,
and the people, as they cannot go 'up,' betray a disposition to go
'down.'"

"You deal in enigmas, and I am afraid to think I understand you."

"I mean, merely, that gallowses are fast disappearing, and that the
people--_le peuple_ you will understand--begin to accept money. In
both particulars, I think there is a sensible change for the worse,
within my own recollection."

Mrs. Bloomfield then changed her manner, and from using that light-
hearted gaiety with which she often rendered her conversation
_piquante_, and even occasionally brilliant, she became more grave
and explicit. The subject soon turned to that of punishments, and few
men could have reasoned more sensibly, justly or forcibly, on such a
subject, than this slight and fragile-looking young woman. Without
the least pedantry, with a beauty of language that the other sex
seldom attains, and with a delicacy of discrimination, and a
sentiment that were strictly feminine, she rendered a theme
interesting, that, however important in itself, is forbidding,
veiling all its odious and revolting features in the refinement and
finesse of her own polished mind.

Eve could have listened all night, and, at every syllable that fell
from the lips of her friend, she felt a glow of triumph; for she was
proud of letting an intelligent foreigner see that America did
contain women worthy to be ranked with the best of other countries, a
circumstance that they who merely frequented what is called the
world, she thought might be reasonably justified in distrusting. In
one respect, she even fancied Mrs. Bloomfield's knowledge and
cleverness superior to those which she had so often admired in her
own sex abroad. It was untrammelled, equally by the prejudices
incident to a factitious condition of society, or by their reaction;
two circumstances that often obscured the sense and candour of those
to whom she had so often listened with pleasure in other countries.
The singularly feminine tone, too, of all that Mrs. Bloomfield said
or thought, while it lacked nothing in strength, added to the charm
of her conversation, and increased the pleasure of those that
listened.

"Is the circle large to which Mrs. Hawker and her friends belong?"
asked Sir George, as he assisted Eve and Grace to cloak, when they
had taken leave. "A town which can boast of half-a-dozen such houses
need not accuse itself of wanting society."

"Ah! there is but one Mrs. Hawker in New-York," answered Grace, "and
not many Mrs. Bloomfields in the world. It would be too much to say,
we have even half-a-dozen such houses."

"Have you not been struck with the admirable tone of this drawing-
room," half whispered Eve. "It may want a little of that lofty ease
that one sees among the better portion of the old _Princesses et
Duchesses_, which is a relic of a school that, it is to be feared, is
going out; but in its place there is a winning nature, with as much
dignity as is necessary, and a truth that gives us confidence in the
sincerity of those around us."

"Upon my word, I think Mrs. Hawker quite fit for a Duchess."

"You mean a _Duchesse_" said Eve, "and yet she is without the manner
that we understand by such a word. Mrs. Hawker is a lady, and there
can be no higher term."

"She is a delightful old woman," cried John Effingham, "and if twenty
years younger and disposed to change her condition, I should really
be afraid to enter the house."

"My dear sir," put in the captain, "I will make her Mrs. Truck to-
morrow, and say nothing of years, if she could be content to take up
with such an offer. Why, sir, she is no woman, but a saint in
petticoats! I felt the whole time as if talking to my own mother, and
as for ships, she knows more about them than I do!"

The whole party laughed at the strength of the captain's admiration,
and getting into the carriages proceeded to the last of the houses
they intended visiting that night.