"So turns she every man the wrong side out; And never gives to
truth and virtue, that Which simpleness and merit purchaseth."
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING.
Mrs. Houston was what is termed a fashionable woman in New-York. She,
too, was of a family of local note, though of one much less elevated
in the olden time than that of Mrs. Hawker. Still her claims were
admitted by the most fastidious on such points, for a few do remain
who think descent indisputable to gentility; and as her means were
ample, and her tastes perhaps superior to those of most around her,
she kept what was thought a house of better tone than common, even in
the highest circle. Eve had but a slight acquaintance with her; but
in Grace's eyes, Mrs. Houston's was the place of all others that she
thought might make a favourable impression on her cousin. Her wish
that this should prove to be the case was so strong, that, as they
drove towards the door, she could not forbear from making an attempt
to prepare Eve for what she was to meet.
"Although Mrs. Houston has a very large house for New-York, and lives
in a uniform style, you are not to expect ante-chambers, and vast
suites of rooms, Eve," said Grace; "such as you have been accustomed
to see abroad."
"It is not necessary, my dear cousin, to enter a house of four or
five windows in front, to see it is not a house of twenty or thirty.
I should be very unreasonable to expect an Italian palazzo, or a
Parisian hotel, in this good town."
"We are not old enough for that yet, Eve; a hundred years hence,
Mademoiselle Viefville, such things may exist here."
"_Bien sûr. C'est naturel._"
"A hundred years hence, as the world tends, Grace, they are not
likely to exist any where, except as taverns, or hospitals, or
manufactories. But what have we to do, coz, with a century ahead of
us? young as we both are, we cannot hope to live that time."
Grace would have been puzzled to account satisfactorily to herself,
for the strong desire she felt that neither of her companions should
expect to see such a house as their senses so plainly told them did
not exist in the place; but her foot moved in the bottom of the
carriage, for she was not half satisfied with her cousin's answer.
"All I mean. Eve," she said, after a pause, "is, that one ought not
to expect in a town as new as this, the improvements that one sees in
an older state of society."
"And have Mademoiselle Viefville, or I, ever been so weak as to
suppose, that New-York is Paris, or Rome, or Vienna?"
Grace was still less satisfied, for, unknown to herself, she _had_
hoped that Mrs. Houston's ball might be quite equal to a ball in
either of those ancient capitals; and she was now vexed that her
cousin considered it so much a matter of course that it should not
be. But there was no time for explanations, as the carriage now
stopped.
The noise, confusion, calling out, swearing, and rude clamour before
the house of Mrs. Houston, said little for the out-door part of the
arrangements. Coachmen are nowhere a particularly silent and civil
class; but the uncouth European peasants, who have been preferred to
the honours of the whip in New-York, to the usual feelings of
competition and contention, added that particular feature of humility
which is known to distinguish "the beggar on horseback." The imposing
equipages of our party, however, had that effect on most of these
rude brawlers, which a display of wealth is known to produce on the
vulgar-minded; and the ladies got into the house, through a lane of
coachmen, by yielding a little to a _chevau de frise_ of whips,
without any serious calamity.
"One hardly knows which is the most terrific," said Eve,
involuntarily, as soon as the door closed on them--"the noise within,
or the noise without!"
This was spoken rapidly, and in French, to Mademoiselle Viefville,
but Grace heard and understood it, and for the first time in her
life, she perceived that Mrs. Houston's company was not composed of
nightingales. The surprise is that the discovery should have come so
late.
"I am delighted at having got into this house," said Sir George, who,
having thrown his cloak to his own servant, stood with the two other
gentlemen waiting the descent of the ladies from the upper room,
where the bad arrangements of the house compelled them to uncloak and
to put aside their shawls, "as I am told it is the best house in town
to see the other sex."
"To _hear them_, would be nearer the truth, perhaps," returned John
Effingham. "As for pretty women, one can hardly go amiss in New-York;
and your ears now tell you, that they do not come into the world to
be seen only."
The baronet smiled, but he was too well bred to contradict or to
assent. Mademoiselle Viefville, unconscious that she was violating
the proprieties, walked into the rooms by herself, as soon as she
descended, followed by Eve; but Grace shrank to the side of John
Effingham, whose arm she took as a step necessary even to decorum.
Mrs. Houston received her guests with ease and dignity. She was one
of those females that the American world calls gay; in other words,
she opened her own house to a very promiscuous society, ten or a
dozen times in a winter, and accepted the greater part of the
invitations she got to other people's. Still, in most other
countries, as a fashionable woman, she would have been esteemed a
model of devotion to the duties of a wife and a mother, for she paid
a personal attention to her household, and had actually taught all
her children the Lord's prayer, the creed, and the ten commandments.
She attended church twice every Sunday, and only staid at home from
the evening lectures, that the domestics might have the opportunity
of going (which, by the way, they never did) in her stead. Feminine,
well-mannered, rich, pretty, of a very positive social condition, and
naturally kind-hearted and disposed to sociability, Mrs. Houston,
supported by an indulgent husband, who so much loved to see people
with the appearance of happiness, that he was not particular as to
the means, had found no difficulty in rising to the pinnacle of
fashion, and of having her name in the mouths of all those who find
it necessary to talk of somebodies, in order that they may seem to be
somebodies themselves. All this contributed to Mrs. Houston's
happiness, or she fancied it did; and as every passion is known to
increase by indulgence, she had insensibly gone on in her much-envied
career until, as has just been said, she reached the summit.
"These rooms are very crowded," said Sir George, glancing his eyes
around two very pretty little narrow drawing-rooms, that were
beautifully, not to say richly, furnished; "one wonders that the same
contracted style of building should be so very general, in a town
that increases as rapidly as this, and where fashion has no fixed
abode, and land is so abundant."
"Mrs. Bloomfield would tell you," said Eve, "that these houses are
types of the social state of the country, in which no one is
permitted to occupy more than his share of ground."
"But there are reasonably large dwellings in the place. Mrs. Hawker
has a good house, and your father's for instance, would be thought
so, too, in London even; and yet I fancy you will agree with me in
thinking that a good room is almost unknown in New-York."
"I do agree with you, in this particular, certainly, for to meet with
a good room, one must go into the houses built thirty years ago. We
have inherited these snuggeries, however, England not having much to
boast of in the way of houses."
"In the way of town residences, I agree with you entirely, as a
whole, though we have some capital exceptions. Still, I do not think
we are quite as compact as this--do you not fancy the noise increased
in consequence of its being so confined?"
Eve laughed and shook her head quite positively.
"What would it be if fairly let out!" she said. "But we will not
waste the precious moments, but turn our eyes about us in quest of
the _belles_. Grace, you who are so much at home, must be our
cicerone, and tell us which are the idols we are to worship."
"_Dîtes moi premierement; que veut dire une belle à New-York?_"
demanded Mademoiselle Viefville. "_Apparemment, tout le monde est
joli._"
"A _belle_, Mademoiselle," returned John Effingham, "is not
necessarily beautiful, the qualifications for the character, being
various and a little contradictory. One may be a _belle_ by means of
money, a tongue, an eye, a foot, teeth, a laugh, or any other
separate feature, or grace; though no woman was ever yet a _belle_, I
believe, by means of the head, considered collectively. But why deal
in description, when the thing itself confronts us? The young lady
standing directly before us, is a _belle_ of the most approved stamp
and silvery tone. Is it not Miss Ring, Grace?"
The answer was in the affirmative, and the eyes of the whole party
turned towards the subject of this remark. The young lady in question
was about twenty, rather tall for an American woman, not
conspicuously handsome, but like most around her of delicate features
and frame, and with such a _physique_, as, under proper training,
would have rendered her the _beau idéal_ of feminine delicacy and
gentleness. She had natural spirit, likewise, as appeared in her
clear blue eye, and moreover she had the spirit to be a _belle_.
Around this young creature were clustered no less than five young
men, dressed in the height of the fashion, all of whom seemed to be
entranced with the words that fell from her lips, and each of whom
appeared anxious to say something clever in return. They all laughed,
the lady most, and sometimes all spoke at once. Notwithstanding these
outbreakings, Miss Ring did most of the talking, and once or twice,
as a young man would gape after a most exhilarating show of
merriment, and discover an inclination to retreat, she managed to
recall him to his allegiance, by some remark particularly pertinent
to himself, or his feelings.
"_Qui est cette dame?_" asked Mademoiselle Viefville, very much as
one would put a similar question, on seeing a man enter a church
during service with his hat on.
"_Elle est demoiselle_," returned Eve.
"_Quelle horreur!_"
"Nay, nay, Mademoiselle, I shall not allow you to set up France as
immaculate on this point, neither--" said John Effingham, looking at
the last speaker with an affected frown--"A young lady may have a
tongue, and she may even speak to a young gentleman, and not be
guilty of felony; although I will admit that five tongues are
unnecessary, and that five listeners are more than sufficient, for
the wisdom of twenty in petticoats."
"_C'est une horreur!_"
"I dare say Miss Ring would think it a greater horror to be obliged
to pass an evening in a row of girls, unspoken to, except to be asked
to dance, and admired only in the distance. But let us take seats on
that sofa, and then we may go beyond the pantomime, and become
partakers in the sentiment of the scene."
Grace and Eve were now led off to dance, and the others did as John
Effingham had suggested. In the eyes of the _belle_ and her admirers,
they who had passed thirty were of no account, and our listeners
succeeded in establishing themselves quietly within ear-shot--this
was almost at duelling distance, too,--without at all interrupting
the regular action of the piece. We extract a little of the dialogue,
by way of giving a more dramatic representation of the scene.
"Do you think the youngest Miss Danvers beautiful?" asked the
_belle_, while her eye wandered in quest of a sixth gentleman to
"entertain," as the phrase is. "In my opinion, she is absolutely the
prettiest female in Mrs. Houston's rooms this night."
The young men, one and all, protested against this judgment, and with
perfect truth, for Miss Ring was too original to point out charms
that every one could see.
"They say it will not be a match between her and Mr. Egbert, after
every body has supposed it settled so long. What is your opinion, Mr.
Edson?"
This timely question prevented Mr. Edson's retreat, for he had
actually got so far in this important evolution, as to have gaped and
turned his back. Recalled, as it were by the sound of the bugle, Mr.
Edson was compelled to say something, a sore affliction to him
always.
"Oh! I'm quite of your way of thinking; they have certainly courted
too long to think of marrying."
"I detest long courtships; they must be perfect antidotes to love;
are they not, Mr. Moreland?"
A truant glance of Mr. Moreland's eye was rebuked by this appeal, and
instead of looking for a place of refuge, he now merely looked
sheepish. He, however, entirely agreed with the young lady, as the
surer way of getting out of the difficulty.
"Pray, Mr. Summerfield, how do you like the last Hajji--Miss Eve
Effingham? To my notion, she is prettyish, though by no means as well
as her cousin, Miss Van Cortlandt, who is really rather good-
looking."
As Eve and Grace were the two most truly lovely young women in the
rooms, this opinion, as well as the loud tone in which it was given,
startled Mademoiselle Viefville quite as much as the subjects that
the belle had selected for discussion. She would have moved, as
listening to a conversation that was not meant for their ears; but
John Effingham quietly assured her that Miss Ring seldom spoke in
company without intending as many persons as possible to hear her.
"Miss Effingham is very plainly dressed for an only daughter"
continued the young lady, "though that lace of her cousin's is real
point! I'll engage it cost every cent of ten dollars a yard! They are
both engaged to be married, I hear."
"_Ciel!_" exclaimed Mademoiselle Viefville.
"Oh! That is nothing," observed John Effingham coolly. "Wait a
moment, and you'll hear that they have been privately married these
six months, if, indeed, you hear no more."
"Of course this is but an idle tale?" said Sir George Templemore with
a concern, which, in despite of his good breeding, compelled him to
put a question that, under other circumstances, would scarcely have
been permissible.
"As true as the gospel. But listen to the _bell_, it is _ringing_ for
the good of the whole parish."
"The affair between Miss Effingham and Mr. Morpeth, who knew her
abroad, I understand is entirely broken off; some say the father
objected to Mr. Morpeth's want of fortune; others that the lady was
fickle, while some accuse the gentleman of the same vice. Don't you
think it shocking to jilt, in either sex, Mr. Mosely?"
The _retiring_ Mr. Mosely was drawn again within the circle, and was
obliged to confess that he thought it was very shocking, in either
sex, to jilt.
"If I were a man," continued the _belle_, "I would never think of a
young woman who had once jilted a lover. To my mind, it bespeaks a
bad heart, and a woman with a bad heart cannot make a very amiable
wife."
"What an exceedingly clever creature she is," whispered Mr. Mosely to
Mr. Moreland, and he now made up his mind to remain and be
'entertained' some time longer.
"I think poor Mr. Morpeth greatly to be pitied; for no man would be
so silly as to be attentive seriously to a lady without
encouragement. Encouragement is the _ne plus ultra_ of courtship; are
you not of my opinion, Mr. Walworth?"
Mr. Walworth was number five of the entertainees, and he did
understand Latin, of which the young lady, though fond of using
scraps, knew literally nothing. He smiled an assent, therefore, and
the _belle_ felicitated herself in having 'entertained' _him_
effectually; nor was she mistaken.
"Indeed, they say Miss Effingham had several affairs of the heart,
while in Europe, but it seems she was unfortunate in them all."
"_Mais, ceci est trop fort! Je ne peux plus écouter._"
"My dear Mademoiselle, compose yourself. The crisis is not yet
arrived, by any means."
"I understand she still corresponds with a German Baron, and an
Italian Marquis, though both engagements are absolutely broken off.
Some people say she walks into company alone, unsupported by any
gentleman, by way of announcing a firm determination to remain single
for life."
A common exclamation from the young men proclaimed their
disapprobation; and that night three of them actually repeated the
thing, as a well established truth, and two of the three, failing of
something better to talk about, also announced that Eve was actually
engaged to be married.
"There is something excessively indelicate in a young lady's moving
about a room without having a gentleman's arm to lean on! I always
feel as if such a person was out of her place, and ought to be in the
kitchen."
"But, Miss Ring, what well-bred person does it?" sputtered Mr.
Moreland. "No one ever heard of such a thing in good society. 'Tis
quite shocking! Altogether unprecedented."
"It strikes me as being excessively coarse!"
"Oh! manifestly; quite rustic!" exclaimed Mr. Edson.
"What can possibly be more vulgar?" added Mr. Walworth.
"I never heard of such a thing among the right sort!" said Mr.
Mosely.
"A young lady who can be so brazen as to come into a room without a
gentleman's arm to lean on, is, in my judgment at least, but
indifferently educated, Hajji or no Hajji. Mr. Edson, have you ever
felt the tender passion? I know you have been desperately in love,
once, at least; do describe to me some of the symptoms, in order that
I may know when I am seriously attacked myself by the disease."
"_Mais, ceci est ridicule! L'enfant s'est sauvée du Charenton de New-
York._"
"From the nursery rather, Mademoiselle; you perceive she does not yet
know how to walk alone."
Mr. Edson now protested that he was too stupid to feel a passion as
intellectual as love, and that he was afraid he was destined by
nature to remain as insensible as a block.
"One never knows, Mr. Edson," said the young lady, encouragingly.
"Several of my acquaintances, who thought themselves quite safe, have
been seized suddenly, and, though none have actually died, more than
one has been roughly treated, I assure you."
Here the young men, one and all, protested that she was excessively
clever. Then succeeded a pause, for Miss Ring was inviting, with her
eyes, a number six to join the circle, her ambition being
dissatisfied with five entertainees, as she saw that Miss Trumpet, a
rival belle, had managed to get exactly that number, also, in the
other room. All the gentlemen availed themselves of the cessation in
wit to gape, and Mr. Edson took the occasion to remark to Mr.
Summerfield that he understood "lots had been sold in seven hundredth
street that morning, as high as two hundred dollars a lot."
The _quadrille_ now ended, and Eve returned towards her friends. As
she approached, the whole party compared her quiet, simple, feminine,
and yet dignified air, with the restless, beau-catching, and worldly
look of the belle, and wondered by what law of nature, or of fashion,
the one could possibly become the subject of the other's comments.
Eve never appeared better than that evening. Her dress had all the
accuracy and finish of a Parisian toilette, being equally removed
from exaggeration and neglect; and it was worn with the ease of one
accustomed to be elegantly attired, and yet never decked with finery.
Her step even was that of a lady, having neither the mincing tread of
a Paris grisette, a manner that sometimes ascends even to the
_bourgeoise_ the march of a cockneyess, nor the tiptoe swing of a
_belle_; but it was the natural though regulated step, of a trained
and delicate woman. Walk alone she could certainly, and always did,
except on those occasions of ceremony that demanded a partner. Her
countenance, across which an unworthy thought had never left a trace,
was an index, too, to the purity, high principles and womanly self-
respect that controlled all her acts, and, in these particulars was
the very reverse of the feverish, half-hoydenish half-affected
expression of that of Miss Ring.
"They may say what they please," muttered Captain Truck, who had been
a silent but wondering listener of all that passed; "she is worth as
many of them as could be stowed in the Montauk's lower hold."
Miss Ring perceiving Eve approach, was desirous of saying something
to her, for there was an _éclat_ about a Hajji, after all, that
rendered an acquaintance, or even an intimacy desirable, and she
smiled and curtsied. Eve returned the salutation, but as she did not
care to approach a group of six, of which no less than five were men,
she continued to move towards her own party. This reserve compelled
Miss Ring to advance a step or two, when Eve was obliged to stop
Curtsying to her partner, she thanked him for his attention,
relinquished his arm, and turned to meet the lady. At the same
instant the five 'entertainees' escaped in a body, equally rejoiced
at their release, and proud of their captivity.
"I have been dying to come and speak to you, Miss Effingham,"
commenced Miss Ring, "but these _five_ giants (she emphasized the
word we have put in italics) so beset me, that escape was quite
impossible. There ought to be a law that but one gentleman should
speak to a lady at a time."
"I thought there was such a law already;" said Eve, quietly.
"You mean in good breeding; but no one thinks of those antiquated
laws now-a-days. Are you beginning to be reconciled, a little, to
your own country?"
"It is not easy to effect a reconciliation where there has been no
misunderstanding. I hope I have never quarrelled with my country, or
my country with me."
"Oh! it is not exactly that I mean. Cannot one need a reconciliation
without a quarrel? What do you say to this, Mr. Edson?"
Miss Ring having detected some symptoms of desertion in the gentleman
addressed, had thrown in this question by way of recal; when turning
to note its effect, she perceived that all of her _clientelle_ had
escaped. A look of surprise and mortification and vexation it was not
in her power to suppress, and then came one of horror.
"How conspicuous we have made ourselves, and it is all my fault!" she
said, for the first time that evening permitting her voice to fall to
a becoming tone. 'Why, here we actually are, two ladies conversing
together, and no gentleman near us!"
"Is that being conspicuous?" asked Eve, with a simplicity that was
entirely natural.
"I am sure, Miss Effingham, one who has seen as much of society as
you, can scarcely ask that question seriously. I do not think I have
done so improper a thing, since I was fifteen; and, dear me! dear me!
how to escape is the question. You have permitted your partner to go,
and I do not see a gentleman of my acquaintance near us, to give me
his arm!"
"As your distress is occasioned by my company," said Eve, "it is
fortunately in my power to relieve it." Thus saying, she quietly
walked across the room, and took her seat next to Mademoiselle
Viefville.
Miss Ring held up her hands in amazement, and then fortunately
perceiving one of the truants gaping at no great distance, she
beckoned him to her side.
"Have the goodness to give me your arm, Mr. Summerfield," she said,
"I am dying to get out of this unpleasantly conspicuous situation;
but you are the first gentleman that has approached me this
twelvemonth. I would not for the world do so brazen a thing as Miss
Effingham has just achieved; would you believe it, she positively
went from this spot to her seat, quite alone!"
"The Hajjis are privileged."
"They make themselves so. But every body knows how bold and unwomanly
the French females are. One could wish, notwithstanding, that our own
people would not import their audacious usages into this country."
"It is a thousand pities that Mr. Clay, in his compromise, neglected
to make an exception against that article. A tariff on impudence
would not be at all sectional."
"It might interfere with the manufacture at home, notwithstanding,"
said John Effingham; for the lungs were strong, and the rooms of Mrs.
Houston so small, that little was said that evening, which was not
heard by any who chose to listen. But Miss Ring never listened, it
being no part of the vocation of a _belle_ to perform that inferior
office, and sustained by the protecting arm of Mr. Summerfield, she
advanced more boldly into the crowd, where she soon contrived to
catch another group of even six "entertainees." As for Mr.
Summerfield, he lived a twelvemonth on the reputation of the
exceedingly clever thing he had just uttered.
"There come Ned and Aristabulus," said John Effingham, as soon as the
tones of Miss Ring's voice were lost in the din of fifty others,
pitched to the same key. "_A present, Mademoiselle, je vais nous
venger_."
As John Effingham uttered this, he took Captain Truck by the arm, and
went to meet his cousin and the land agent. The latter he soon
separated from Mr. Effingham, and with this new recruit, he managed
to get so near to Miss Ring as to attract her attention. Although
fifty, John Effingham was known to be a bachelor, well connected, and
to have twenty thousand a year. In addition, he was well preserved
and singularly handsome, besides having an air that set all
pretending gentility at defiance. These were qualities that no
_belle_ despised, and ill-assorted matches were, moreover, just
coming into fashion in New-York. Miss Ring had an intuitive knowledge
that he wished to speak to her, and she was not slow in offering the
opportunity. The superior tone of John Effingham, his caustic wit and
knowledge of the world, dispersed the five _beaux_, incontinently;
these persons having a natural antipathy to every one of the
qualities named.
"I hope you will permit me to presume on an acquaintance that extends
back as far as your grandfather, Miss Ring," he said, "to present two
very intimate friends; Mr. Bragg and Mr. Truck; gentlemen who will
well reward the acquaintance."
The lady bowed graciously, for it was a matter of conscience with her
to receive every man with a smile. She was still too much in awe of
the master of ceremonies to open her batteries of attack, but John
Effingham soon relieved her, by affecting a desire to speak to
another lady. The _belle_ had now the two strangers to herself, and
having heard that the Effinghams had an Englishman of condition as a
companion, who was travelling under a false name, she fancied herself
very clever in detecting him at once in the person of Aristabulus;
while by the aid of a lively imagination, she thought Mr. Truck was
his travelling Mentor, and a divine of the church of England. The
incognito she was too well bred to hint at, though she wished both
the gentlemen to perceive that a _belle_ was not to be mystified in
this easy manner. Indeed, she was rather sensitive on the subject of
her readiness in recognizing a man of fashion under any
circumstances, and to let this be known was her very first object, as
soon as she was relieved from the presence of John Effingham.
"You must be struck with the unsophisticated nature and the extreme
simplicity of our society, Mr. Bragg," she said, looking at him
significantly; "we are very conscious it is not what it might be, but
do you not think it pretty well for beginners?"
Now, Mr. Bragg had an entire consciousness that he had never seen any
society that deserved the name before this very night, but he was
supported in giving his opinions by that secret sense of his
qualifications to fill any station, which formed so conspicuous a
trait in his character, and his answer was given with an _àplomb_
that would have added weight to the opinion of the veriest _élégant_
of the _Chaussée d'Antin._
"It is indeed a good deal unsophisticated," he said, "and so simple
that any body can understand it. I find but a single fault with this
entertainment, which is, in all else, the perfection of elegance in
my eyes, and that is, that there is too little room to swing the legs
in dancing."
"Indeed!--I did not expect that--is it not the best usage of Europe,
now, to bring a quadrille into the very minimum of space?"
"Quite the contrary, Miss. All good dancing requires evolutions. The
dancing Dervishes, for instance would occupy quite as much space as
both of these sets that are walking before us, and I believe it is
now generally admitted that all good dancing needs room for the
legs."
"We necessarily get a little behind the fashions, in this distant
country. Pray, sir, is it usual for ladies to walk alone in society?"
"Woman was not made to move through life alone, Miss," returned
Aristabulus with a sentimental glance of the eye, for he never let a
good opportunity for preferment slip through his fingers, and,
failing of Miss Effingham, or Miss Van Cortlandt, of whose estates
and connections he had some pretty accurate notions, it struck him
Miss Ring might, possibly, be a very eligible connection, as all was
grist that came to his mill; "this I believe, is an admitted truth."
"By life you mean matrimony, I suppose."
"Yes, Miss, a man always means matrimony, when he speaks to a young
lady."
This rather disconcerted Miss Ring, who picked her nosegay, for she
was not accustomed to hear gentlemen talk to ladies of matrimony, but
ladies to talk to gentlemen. Recovering her self-possession, however,
she said with a promptitude that, did the school to which she
belonged infinite credit,--
"You speak, sir, like one having experience."
"Certainly, Miss; I have been in love ever since I was ten years old;
I may say I was born in love, and hope to die in love."
This a little out-Heroded Herod, but the _belle_ was not a person to
be easily daunted on such a subject. She smiled graciously,
therefore, and continued the conversation with renewed spirit.
"You travelled gentleman get odd notions," she said, "and more
particularly on such subjects. I always feel afraid to discuss them
with foreigners, though with my own countrymen I have few reserves.
Pray, Mr. Truck, are you satisfied with America?--Do you find it the
country you expected to see?"
"Certainly, marm;" for so they pronounced this word in the river, and
the captain cherished his first impressions; "when we sailed from
Portsmouth. I expected that the first land we should make would be
the Highlands of Navesink; and, although a little disappointed, I
have had the satisfaction of laying eyes on it at last."
"Disappointment, I fear, is the usual fate of those who come from the
other side. Is this dwelling of Mrs. Houston's equal to the residence
of an English nobleman, Mr. Bragg?"
"Considerably better, Miss, especially in the way of republican
comfort."
Miss Ring, like all _belles_, detested the word republican, their
vocation being clearly to exclusion, and she pouted a little
affectedly.
"I should distrust the quality of such comfort, sir," she said, with
point; "but, are the rooms at all comparable with the rooms in Apsley
House, for instance?"
"My dear Miss, Apsley House is a toll-gate lodge, compared to this
mansion! I doubt if there be a dwelling in all England half as
magnificent--indeed, I cannot imagine any thing more brilliant and
rich."
Aristabulus was not a man to do things by halves, and it was a point
of honour with him to know something of every thing. It is true he no
more could tell where Apsley House is, or whether it was a tavern or
a gaol, than he knew half the other things on which he delivered
oracular opinions; but when it became necessary to speak, he was not
apt to balk conversation from any ignorance, real or affected. The
opinion he had just given, it is true, had a little surpassed Miss
Ring's hopes; for the next thing, in her ambition to being a _belle_,
and of "entertaining" gentlemen, was to fancy she was running her
brilliant career in an orbit of fashion that lay parallel to that of
the "nobility and gentry" of Great Britain.
"Well, this surpasses my hopes," she said, "although I was aware we
are nearly on a level with the more improved tastes of Europe: still,
I thought we were a little inferior to that part of the world, yet."
"Inferior, Miss! That is a word that should never pass your lips; you
are inferior to nothing, whether in Europe or America, Asia or
Africa."
As Miss Ring had been accustomed to do most of the flattering
herself, as behoveth a _belle_, she began to be disconcerted with the
directness of the compliments of Aristabulus, who was disposed to
'make hay while the sun shines;' and she turned, in a little
confusion, to the captain, by way of relief; we say confusion, for
the young lady, although so liable to be misunderstood, was not
actually impudent, but merely deceived in the relations of things;
or, in other words, by some confusion in usages, she had hitherto
permitted herself to do that in society, which female performers
sometimes do on the stage; enact the part of a man.
"You should tell Mr. Bragg, sir," she said, with an appealing look at
the captain, "that flattery is a dangerous vice, and one altogether
unsuited to a Christian."
"It is, indeed, marm, and one that I never indulge in. No one under
my orders, can accuse me of flattery."
By 'under orders,' Miss Ring understood curates and deacons; for she
was aware the church of England had clerical distinctions of this
sort, that are unknown in America.
"I hope, sir, you do not intend to quit this country without
favouring us with a discourse."
"Not I, marm--I am discoursing pretty much from morning till night,
when among my own people, though I own that this conversing rather
puts me out of my reckoning. Let me get my foot on the planks I love,
with an attentive audience, and a good cigar in my mouth, and I'll
hold forth with any bishop in the universe."
"A cigar!" exclaimed Miss Ring, in surprise. "Do gentlemen of your
profession use cigars when on duty!"
"Does a parson take his fees? Why, Miss, there is not a man among us,
who does not smoke from morning till night."
"Surely not on Sundays!"
"Two for one, on those days, more than on any other."
"And your people, sir, what do they do, all this time?'
"Why, marm, most of them chew; and those that don't, if they cannot
find a pipe, have a dull time of it. For my part, I shall hardly
relish the good place itself, if cigars are prohibited."
Miss Ring was surprised; but she had heard that the English clergy
were more free than our own, and then she had been accustomed to
think every thing English of the purest water. A little reflection
reconciled her to the innovation; and the next day, at a dinner
party, she was heard defending the usage as a practice that had a
precedent in the ancient incense of the altar. At the moment,
however, she was dying to impart her discoveries to others; and she
kindly proposed to the captain and Aristabulus to introduce them to
some of her acquaintances, as they must find it dull, being
strangers, to know no one. Introductions and cigars were the
captain's hobbies, and he accepted the offer with joy, Aristabulus
uniting cordially in the proposition, as, he fancied he had a right,
under the Constitution of the United States of America, to be
introduced to every human being with whom he came in contact.
It is scarcely necessary to say how much the party with whom the two
neophytes in fashion had come, enjoyed all this, though they
concealed their amusement under the calm exterior of people of the
world. From Mr. Effingham the mystification was carefully concealed
by his cousin, as the former would have felt it due to Mrs. Houston,
a well-meaning, but silly woman, to put an end to it. Eve and Grace
laughed, as merry girls would be apt to laugh, at such an occurrence,
and they danced the remainder of the evening with lighter hearts than
ever. At one, the company retired in the same informal manner, as
respects announcements and the calling of carriages, as that in which
they had entered; most to lay their drowsy heads on their pillows,
and Miss Ring to ponder over the superior manners of a polished young
Englishman, and to dream of the fragrance of a sermon that was
preserved in tobacco.