"He may flirt with Mrs. Creighton, but, if I am not mistaken, he intends to offer himself before long to Miss Wyllys; and I thought you had not remarked his advances."

"I fancy, dear Aunt, that men like Mr. Stryker seldom commit themselves unless they feel pretty sure of success."

The conversation was here interrupted, Elinor was engaged to ride with Mr. Wyllys, who now returned from the reading-room for his grand-daughter. Mrs. Creighton was also going out with her brother, and proposed the two parties joining; an invitation which Mr. Wyllys had very readily accepted. The horses were ordered, Elinor was soon equipped, and on joining Mrs. Creighton at the door, she was assisted to mount by Mr. Ellsworth. Mr. Stryker had also been invited to ride with them by the pretty widow.

It was a lovely morning, and they moved off gaily on one of the roads leading to Saratoga Lake; Elinor enjoying the air and the exercise, Mr. Ellsworth at her side, doing his best to make his society agreeable, Mrs. Creighton engaged in making a conquest of the two gentlemen between whom she rode. Yes, we are obliged to confess the fact; on her part at least, there was nothing wanting to make up a flirtation with Mr. Wyllys. The widow belonged to that class of ladies, whose thirst for admiration really seems insatiable, and who appear anxious to compel all who approach them to feel the effect of their charms. Elinor would have been frightened, had she been aware of the attack made that morning by Mrs. Creighton, on the peace of her excellent grandfather, now in his seventy-third year. Not that the lady neglected Mr. Stryker—by no means; she was very capable of managing two affairs of the kind at the same moment. All the remarks she addressed particularly to Mr. Wyllys, were sensible and lady-like; those she made to Mr. Stryker, were clever, worldly, and piquant; while the general tone of her conversation was always a well-bred medley of much fashionable levity, with some good sense and propriety. Mr. Stryker scarcely knew whether to be pleased, or to regret that he was obliged to ride at her side. He had lately become particularly anxious to advance in the good graces of Miss Elinor Wyllys, for two reasons; he had lost money, and was very desirous of appropriating some of Elinor's to his own use; and he had also felt himself to be in imminent danger of falling in love with Mrs. Creighton, and he wished to put it out of his own power to offer himself to her in a moment of weakness. Much as he admired the beauty, the wit, and the worldly spirit of the pretty widow, he was half-afraid of her; he judged her by himself; he knew that she was artful, and he knew that she was poor; for her late husband, Mr. Creighton, during a short married life, had run through all his wife's property, as well as his own, and his widow was now entirely dependent upon her brother.

The attention of the two gentlemen was not, however, entirely engrossed by Mrs. Creighton. Mr. Stryker was by no means willing to resign the field to his rival, Mr. Ellsworth; and Mr. Wyllys was not so much charmed by the conversation of his fair companion, but that his eye could rest with pleasure on the couple before him, as he thought there was every probability that Elinor would at length gratify his long-cherished wish, and become the wife of a man he believed worthy of her. As the party halted for a few moments on the bank of the Lake, Mr. Wyllys was particularly struck with the expression of spirit and interest with which Elinor was listening to Mr. Ellsworth's description of the lakes of Killarney, which he had seen during his last visit to Europe; and when the gentleman had added a ludicrous account of some Paddyism of his guide, she laughed so gaily that the sound rejoiced her grandfather's heart.

Elinor had long since regained her former cheerfulness. For a time, Harry's desertion had made her sad, but she soon felt it a duty to shake off every appearance of gloom, for the sake of her grandfather and aunt, whose happiness was so deeply interwoven with her own. Religious motives also strengthened her determination to resist every repining feeling. The true spirit of cheerfulness is, in fact, the fruit of two of the greatest virtues of Christianity—steadfast faith, and unfeigned humility; and it is akin to thankfulness, which is only the natural consequence of a sense of our own imperfections, and of the unmerited goodness of Providence.

"We have had a charming ride, Miss Wyllys!" said Mrs. Creighton, as the party returned to the hotel.

"Very pleasant," said Elinor.

"Delightful!" exclaimed Mr. Ellsworth. "I hope we shall have such another every day."

"Then I must try and find an animal, with rather better paces than the one which has the honour of carrying me at present," said Mr. Stryker.

"But Mrs. Creighton has been so very agreeable, that I should think you would have been happy to accompany her on the worst horse in Saratoga," observed Mr. Wyllys.

"Only too agreeable," replied Mr. Stryker, as he helped the lady to dismount, while Mr. Ellsworth performed the same service to Elinor.



CHAPTER V. {XXVIII}

"I do beseech your grace, for charity, If ever any malice in your heart Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly." Henry VIII.

{William Shakespeare, "Henry VIII", II.i.79-81}

ONE evening, about a week after the arrival of the Wyllyses, there was a dance at Congress Hall, where they were staying. Mrs. Creighton, with her brother, who were already engaged to meet some friends there, urged Elinor very much to join them; but she declined, not wishing to leave Jane. Mr. Ellsworth, who had been very devoted, of late, seemed particularly anxious she should go. But although Elinor's manner betrayed some little embarrassment, if not indecision, as the gentleman urged her doing so, still she persisted in remaining with her cousin.

{"Congress Hall" = the most fashionable hotel in Saratoga Springs — built in 1811, the original building burned in 1866}

"Well, I am sorry we cannot persuade you, Miss Wyllys; though I dare say you will have a very pleasant evening in your own parlour."

"We must put, off our game of chess until to-morrow, Mrs. Creighton," said Mr. Wyllys.

"Yes, unfortunately for me; for I have fully determined to beat you, sir, at our next trial. Well, Frank, we cannot stay here all the evening; I dare say, our friends, the Stevensons, are looking for us in the ball-room already."

"Mrs. Creighton is a very pretty woman," observed Mr. Wyllys, as he seated himself at the chess-board, opposite his daughter, after the brother and sister had left the room.

"Yes, a very pretty woman; and she always looks well in her evening-dress," replied Miss Agnes.

Elinor devoted herself to Jane's amusement. Ever since they had been together, she had given up a great part of her time to Mrs. Taylor, whom she was very anxious to cheer and enliven, that she might persuade her to throw off the melancholy and low spirits, which her cousin seemed purposely to encourage. The sick baby was better, and Elinor was in hopes that before they parted, she should succeed in awakening Jane to a somewhat better frame of mind. She was very desirous that the time they were together should not be lost; and her kindness was so unwearied, her manner was so affectionate and soothing, and the advice she sometimes allowed herself to give, was so clear and sensible, that at last Jane seemed to feel the good effects of her cousin's efforts.

After Mr. Ellsworth and his sister had left the room to join the dancers, Jane suddenly turned to Elinor, with tears in her eyes. "How kind you are!" she said. "I daresay you would like to go down-stairs;—but you are too good to me, Elinor!"

"Nonsense, Jenny; I can't help it if I would. Do you think I should enjoy dancing, if I knew you were sitting alone in this dark corner, while grandpapa and Aunt Agnes are playing chess! You are looking a great deal more woe-begone than you ought to, now baby is so much better."

"You spoil me," said Jane, shaking her head, and smiling with more feeling than usual in her unexpressive face.

"I shall spoil you a great deal more before we get through. Next week, when Mr. Taylor comes, I intend to talk him into bringing you over to Wyllys-Roof, to pay a good long visit, like old times."

"I had much rather think of old times, than of what is to come. There is nothing pleasant for me to look forward to!"

"How can you know that, Jane? I have learned one lesson by experience, though I am only a year older than you, dear—and it is, that if we are often deceived by hope, so we are quite as often misled by fear."

"I believe, Elinor, you are my best friend," said Jane, holding out her hand to her cousin.

"Oh, you have more good friends than you think for, and much good of every kind, though you will shut your eyes to the fact."

"It may be so," said Jane; "I will try to follow your advice, if I can."

"Try hard, then," said Elinor, "and all will go well. And now, shall I sing you the song Mrs. Creighton cut short?"

She began to sing "Auld Lang Syne;" but the song was interrupted before she had finished the second verse. Several persons were heard approaching their room, which was in a retired, quiet part of the house; the door soon opened, and in walked Robert Hazlehurst.

"Well, good people," he exclaimed, "you take the world as quietly as anybody I know! We supposed, of course, you were at the ball, but Elinor's voice betrayed you. This way, Louisa," he said, returning to the door, after having shaken hands with Mr. Wyllys and Miss Agnes.

"How glad I am to see you!" exclaimed Elinor—"you are as good as your word; but we did not expect you for several days;" and Jane and herself went to the door to meet Mrs. Hazlehurst.

"And, pray, what reason had you to suppose that we should not keep our word?" said the latter, as she appeared.

"We thought Harry would probably detain you," said Elinor.

"Not at all; we brought him along with us."

"That was a good arrangement we had not thought of," observed Miss Agnes.

Harry entered the room. He was not entirely free from embarrassment at first; but when Mr. Wyllys met him with something of the cordial manner of old times, he immediately recovered himself. He kissed the hand of Miss Agnes, as in former days, and saluted Elinor in the same way, instead of the more brotherly greetings with which he used to meet her of old.

"And here is Jane, too, Harry," said Mrs. Hazlehurst, who had just embraced her sister. "You have been so long away, that I dare say you have forgotten half your old friends."

"Not at all," said Harry, crossing the room to Jane. "I think myself a very lucky fellow, at finding them all collected here together, for my especial benefit. I met Mr. Taylor for a moment in New York," he continued, addressing Jane.

"Did he say when he was coming for me?" replied Mrs. Taylor, offering her hand to her kinsman.

"He told me that he should be at Saratoga very shortly."

"I have a letter for you in my trunk, Jane," said Mrs. Robert Hazlehurst.

"Don't you think our invalid much better, already, Louisa?" asked Elinor.

"Yes; she does credit to your nursing."

"No wonder," said Jane; "for during the last month I have been petted all the time—first by Mrs. Taylor, then by Aunt Agnes and Elinor."

"It's very pleasant to be petted," said Harry; "that's precisely what I came home for. I give you my notice, Louisa, I expect a great deal from you in the next three months."

"Is that the length of your holiday?" inquired Miss Agnes.

"So says my master, Mr. Henley. I understand," he added, turning to Elinor, "that you have all the agreeable people in the country collected here."

"There are some thousands of us, agreeable and disagreeable, altogether. They say the place has never been more crowded so early in the season."

"So I'm told. I was warned that if I came, I should have to make my bed in the cellar, or on the roof. Are Ellsworth and Mrs. Creighton at this house, or at the other?"

"They are staying at the United States. They are here this evening, however, at the dance."

{"United States" = the other major hotel in Saratoga Springs, less fashionable at this time than Congress Hall}

"Indeed!—I have half a mind to take Ellsworth by surprise. Will they admit a gentleman in travelling costume, do you think?"

"I dare say they will; but here are your friends, coming to look for you."

At the same moment, Mr. Ellsworth and Mrs. Creighton joined the party.

"How d'ye do, Ellsworth?—Glad to see you, my dear fellow!" cried the young men, shaking each other violently by the hand.

"How do you do, Mr. Hazlehurst?" added the lady, "Welcome back again. But what have you done with your sister-in-law?—for I did not come to call upon you alone. Ah, here you are, Mrs. Hazlehurst. My brother observed you passing through the hall, as you arrived, and we determined that it would be much pleasanter to pass half an hour with you, than to finish the dance. We have been wishing for you every day."

"Thank you. We should have set out before, if we had not waited for Harry. Elinor tells me half Philadelphia is here, already."

"Yes; the houses have filled up very much since I first came; for I am ashamed to say how long I have been here."

"Why, yes: I understood you were going to Nahant."

"We ought to have been there long ago; but I could not move this obstinate brother of mine. He has never found Saratoga so delightful, Mrs. Hazlehurst," added the lady, with an expressive smile, and a look towards Elinor. "I can't say, however, that I at all regret being forced to stay, for many of our friends are here, now. Mr. Hazlehurst, I hope you have come home more agreeable than ever."

"I hope so too, Mrs. Creighton; for it is one of our chief duties as diplomatists, 'to tell lies for the good of our country,' in an agreeable way. But I am afraid I have not improved my opportunities. I have been very much out of humour for the last six months, at least."

"And why, pray?"

"Because I wanted to come home, and Mr. Henley, my boss, insisted upon proving to me it would be the most foolish thing I could do. He was so much in the right, that I resented it by being cross."

"But now he has come himself, and brought you with him."

"No thanks to him, though. It was all Uncle Sam's doings, who wants to send us from the Equator to the North Pole."

"Are you really going to Russia, Hazlehurst?" asked Mr. Ellsworth.

"Certainly; you would not have me desert, would you?"

"Oh, no; don't think of it, Mr. Hazlehurst; it must be a very pleasant life!" exclaimed Mrs. Creighton. "I only wish, Frank, that you were enough of a politician to be sent as minister somewhere; I should delight in doing the honours for you; though I dare say you would rather have some one else in my place."

"We will wait until I am sent as ambassador to Timbuctoo, before I answer the question."

"You have grown half-a-dozen shades darker than you used to be as a youngster, Harry; or else this lamp deceives me," observed Mr. Wyllys.

"I dare say I may have a fresh tinge of the olive. But I am just from sea, sir, and that may have given me an additional coat."

"Did you suffer much from heat, on the voyage?" asked Miss Wyllys.

"Not half as much as I have since I landed. It appeared to me Philadelphia was the warmest spot I had ever breathed in; worse than Rio. I was delighted when Louisa proposed my coming to Saratoga to see my friends."

"You will find it quite warm enough here," said Mr. Wyllys. "The thermometer was 92 {degrees} in the shade, yesterday."

"I don't expect to be well cooled, sir, until we get to St. Petersburgh. After a sea-voyage, I believe one always feels the cold less, and the heat more than usual. But where is Mrs. Stanley?—we hoped to find her with you. Is she not staying at this house?"

"Yes; but she left us early, this evening, not feeling very well; you will not be able to see her until to-morrow," said Miss Agnes.

"I am sorry she is not well; how is she looking?"

"Particularly well, I think; she merely complained of a head-ache from riding in the sun."

"Mrs. Stanley has been very anxious for your return; but she will be as agreeably surprised as the rest of us, to find you here," said Elinor.

"Thank you. I look upon myself as particularly fortunate, to find so many old friends collected in one spot, instead of having to run about, and hunt for each in a different place, just now that I am limited for time."

"You ought to be greatly indebted to Frank and myself, for breaking our word and staying here; instead of keeping our promise and going to Nahant, as we had engaged to do," said Mrs. Creighton.

"Certainly; I look upon it as part of my good luck; but I should have made my appearance at Nahant, if you had actually run away from me."

"I shall believe you; for I make it a point of always believing what is agreeable."

"As I knew Mrs. Hazlehurst and your brother had engaged rooms here, I hoped you would join us, soon after your arrival," said Mr. Ellsworth.

"It was much the best plan for you," said Mr. Wyllys.

Harry looked gratified by this friendly remark.

It was already late; and Mrs. Hazlehurst, who had been conversing in a corner with Jane, complained of being fatigued by her day's journey, which broke up the party. The Hazlehursts, like Mrs. Creighton and her brother, were staying at the United States, and they all went off together.

When Elinor, as usual, kissed Mr. Wyllys before retiring to her own room, she hesitated a moment, and then said:

"I must thank you, grandpapa, for having granted my request, and received Harry as of old. It is much better that the past should be entirely forgotten. Self-respect seems to require that we should not show resentment under the circumstances," she added, colouring slightly.

"I cannot forget the past, Elinor. Harry does not stand with me where he once did, by the side of my beloved grandchild; but we will not think of that any longer, as you say. I hope for better things from the future. Bless you, dear!"



CHAPTER VI. {XXIX}

"The foam upon the waters, not so light." COWPER.

{William Cowper (English poet, 1731-1800), "Truth" line 43}

As usual at Saratoga, early the next morning groups of people were seen moving from the different hotels, towards the Congress Spring. It was a pleasant day, and great numbers appeared disposed to drink the water at the fountain-head, instead of having it brought to their rooms. The Hazlehursts were not the only party of our acquaintances who had arrived the night before. The Wyllyses found Miss Emma Taylor already on the ground, chattering in a high key with a tall, whiskered youth. The moment she saw Elinor, she sprang forward to meet her.

{"Congress Spring" = principal mineral water source at Saratoga Springs}

"How do you do, Miss Wyllys?—Are you not surprised to see me here?"

"One can hardly be surprised at meeting anybody in such a crowd," said Elinor. "When did you arrive?"

"Last night, at eleven o'clock. We made a forced march from Schenectady, where we were to have slept; but I persuaded Adeline and Mr. St. Leger to come on. You can't think how delighted I am to be here, at last," said the pretty little creature, actually skipping about with joy.

"And where is Mrs. St. Leger?"

"Oh, she will he here in a moment. She has gone to Jane's room. I left her there just now."

The platform round the spring was quite crowded. In one party, Elinor remarked Mrs. Hilson and Miss Emmeline Hubbard, escorted by Monsieur Bonnet and another Frenchman. They were soon followed by a set more interesting to Elinor, the Hazlehursts, Mrs. Creighton, and her brother.

"I hope none of your party from Wyllys-Roof are here from necessity," said Harry, after wishing Elinor good-morning.

"Not exactly from necessity; but the physicians recommended to Aunt Agnes to pass a fortnight here, this summer. You may have heard that she was quite ill, a year ago?"

"Yes; Robert, of course, wrote me word of her illness. But Miss Wyllys looks quite like herself, I think. As for Mr. Wyllys, he really appears uncommonly well."

"Thank you; grandpapa is very well, indeed; and Aunt Agnes has quite recovered her health, I trust."

"Miss Wyllys," said Mr. Stryker, offering a glass of the water to Elinor, "can't I persuade you to take a sympathetic cup, this morning?"

"I believe not," replied Elinor, shaking her head.

"Do you never drink it"' asked Mrs. Creighton.

"No; I really dislike it very much."

"Pray, give it to me, Mr. Stryker," continued Mrs. Creighton. "Thank you: I am condemned to drink three glasses every morning, and it will be three hours, at this rate, before I get them."

"Did you ever hear a better shriek than that, Miss Wyllys?" said Mr. Stryker, lowering his voice, and pointing to Emma Taylor, who was standing on the opposite side of the spring, engaged in a noisy, rattling flirtation. After drinking half the glass that had been given to her, she had handed it to the young man to whom she was talking, bidding him drink it without making a face. Of course, the youth immediately exerted himself to make a grimace.

"Oh, you naughty boy!" screamed Miss Taylor, seizing another half-empty glass, and throwing a handful of water in his face; "this is the way I shall punish you!"

There were two gentlemen, European travellers, standing immediately behind Elinor at this moment, and the colour rose in her cheeks as she heard the very unfavourable observations they made upon Miss Taylor, judging from her noisy manner in a public place. Elinor, who understood very well the language in which they spoke, was so shut in by the crowd that she could not move, and was compelled to hear part of a conversation that deeply mortified her, as these travellers, apparently gentlemanly men themselves, exchanged opinions upon the manners of certain young ladies they had recently met. They began to compare notes, and related several little anecdotes, anything but flattering in their nature, to the delicacy of the ladies alluded to; actually naming the individuals as they proceeded. More than one of these young girls was well known to Elinor, and from her acquaintance with their usual tone of manner and conversation, she had little doubt as to the truth of the stories these travellers had recorded for the amusement of themselves and their friends; at the same time, she felt perfectly convinced that the interpretation put upon these giddy, thoughtless actions, was cruelly unjust. Could these young ladies have heard the observations to which they had laid themselves open by their own folly, they would have been sobered at once; self-respect would have put them more on their guard, ESPECIALLY IN THEIR INTERCOURSE WITH FOREIGNERS. It is, no doubt, delightful to see young persons free from every suspicion; no one would wish to impose a single restraint beyond what is necessary; but, surely, a young girl should not only be sans peur, but also sans reproche—the faintest imputation on her native modesty is not to be endured: and, yet, who has not seen pretty, delicate creatures, scarcely arrived at womanhood, actually assuming a noisy, forward pertness, foreign to their nature, merely to qualify them for the envied title of belles? There is something wrong, certainly, wherever such a painful picture is exhibited; and it may be presumed that in most cases the fault lies rather with the parents than the daughters. Happily, the giddy, rattling school to which Miss Emma Taylor belonged, is much less in favour now, than it was some ten or fifteen years ago, at the date of our story.

{"sans peur, but also sans reproche" = without fear, but also without reproach (French); the French national hero Bayard (1476-1524), is traditionally called "Le Chevalier sans peur et sans reproche"}

"How little do Emma Taylor, and girls like her, imagine the cruel remarks to which they expose themselves by their foolish manners!" thought Elinor, as she succeeded at length, with the assistance of Mr. Ellsworth, in extricating herself from the crowd.

As the Wyllys party moved away from the spring, to walk in the pretty wood adjoining, they saw a young man coming towards them at a very rapid pace.

"Who is it—any one you know, Miss Wyllys?" asked Mr. Ellsworth.

"He is in pursuit of some other party, I fancy," replied Elinor.

"It is Charlie Hubbard coming to join us; did we forget to mention that he came up the river with us?" said Harry, who was following Elinor, with Mrs. Creighton and Mr. Stryker.

The young painter soon reached them, as they immediately stopped to welcome him; he was very kindly received by his old friends.

"Well, Charlie, my boy," said Mr. Wyllys, "if Harry had not been here to vouch for your identity, I am not sure but I should have taken you for an exiled Italian bandit. Have you shown those moustaches at Longbridge?"

"Yes, sir;" replied Charlie, laughing. "I surprised my mother and sister by a sight of them, some ten days since; it required all their good-nature, I believe, to excuse them."

"I dare say they would have been glad to see you, if you had come back looking like a Turk," said Elinor.

"I am determined not to shave for some months, out of principle; just to show my friends that I am the same Charlie Hubbard with moustaches that I was three years ago without them."

"I suppose you consider it part of your profession to look as picturesque as our stiff-cut broadcloth will permit," said Mr. Wyllys.

"If you really suspect me of dandyism, sir," said Charlie, "I shall have to reform at once."

"I am afraid, Mr. Hubbard, that you have forgotten me," observed Mr. Ellsworth; "though I passed a very pleasant morning at your rooms in New York, some years since."

Charlie remembered him, however; and also made his bow to Mrs. Creighton and Mr. Stryker.

"And how did you leave the Mediterranean, sir?" asked Mr. Stryker, in a dry tone. "Was the sea in good looks?"

"As blue as ever. I am only afraid my friends in this country will not believe the colour I have given it in my sketches."

"We are bound to believe all your representations of water," remarked Mr. Wyllys.

"I hope you have brought back a great deal for us to see; have you anything with you here?" asked Elinor.

"Only my sketch-book. I would not bring anything else; for I must get rid of my recollections of Italy. I must accustom my eye again to American nature; I have a great deal to do with Lake George, this summer."

"But you must have something in New York," said Miss Wyllys.

"Yes; I have brought home with me samples of water, from some of the most celebrated lakes and rivers in Europe."

"That is delightful," said Elinor; "and when can we see them?"

"As soon as they are unpacked, I shall be very happy to show them to my friends. They will probably interest you on account of the localities; and I have endeavoured to be as faithful to nature as I could, in every instance. You will find several views familiar to you, among the number," added Charlie, addressing Hazlehurst.

"I have no doubt that you have done them justice."

"They are far from being as good as I could wish; but I did my best. You will find some improvement, sir, I hope," added Charlie, turning to Mr. Wyllys, "since my first attempt at Chewattan Lake, in the days of Compound Interest."

"You have not forgotten your old enemy, the Arithmetic," said Mr. Wyllys, smiling. "I am afraid Fortune will never smile upon you for having deserted from the ranks of trade."

"I am not sure of that, sir; she is capricious, you know."

"I should think you would do well, Charlie, to try your luck just now, by an exhibition of your pictures."

"My uncle has already proposed an exhibition; but I doubt its success; our people don't often run after good pictures," he added, smiling. "If I had brought with me some trash from Paris or Leghorn, I might have made a mint of money."

A general conversation continued until the party returned towards the hotels. They were met, as they approached Congress Hall, by several persons, two of whom proved to be Mrs. Hilson, and Miss Emmeline Hubbard. Charlie had already seen his cousins in New York, and he merely bowed in passing. Miss Emmeline was leaning on the arm of M. Bonnet, Mrs. Hilson on that of another Frenchman, whose name, as the "Baron Adolphe de Montbrun," had been constantly on her lips during the last few weeks, or in other words, ever since she had made his acquaintance. Charlie kept his eye fixed on this individual, with a singular expression of surprise and vexation, until he had passed. He thought he could not be mistaken, that his cousin's companion was no other than a man of very bad character, who had been in Rome at the same time with himself, and having married the widow of an Italian artist, a sister of one of Hubbard's friends, had obtained possession of her little property, and then deserted her. The whole affair had taken place while Charlie was in Rome; and it will readily be imagined that he felt no little indignation, when he met a person whom he strongly suspected of being this very chevalier d'industrie, flourishing at Saratoga, by the side of his uncle Joseph's daughter.

{"chevalier d'industrie" = con man; swindler; man who lives by his wits (French)}

Charlie had no sooner left the Wyllyses on the piazza at Congress Hall, than he proceeded to make some inquiry about this Frenchman. He found his name down in the books of the hotel, as the Baron Adolphe de Montbrun, which with the exception of ALPHONSE for the first name, was the appellation of the very man who had behaved so badly at Rome. He went to Mrs. Hilson, and told her his suspicions; but they had not the least effect on the "city lady;" she would not believe them. Charlie had no positive proof of what he asserted; he could not be confident beyond a doubt as to the identity of this person and the Montbrun of the Roman story, for he had only seen that individual once in Italy. Still, he was convinced himself, and he entreated his cousin to be on her guard; the effect of his representations may be appreciated from the fact, that Mrs. Hilson became more amiable than ever with the Baron, while she was pouting and sulky with Charlie, scarcely condescending to notice him at all. Hubbard only remained twenty-four hours at Saratoga, for he was on his way to Lake George; before he left the Springs, however, he hinted to Mr. Wyllys his suspicions of this Montbrun, in order to prevent that individual's intruding upon the ladies of the Wyllys party; for Mrs. Hilson delighted in introducing him right and left. As for her other companion, M. Bonnet, he was known to be a respectable merchant in New York.

Several days passed, during which our friends at Saratoga, like the rest of the world there, walked, and rode, and drank the waters, and seemed to pass their time very pleasantly; although the ladies did not either dress or flirt as much as many of their companions, who seemed to look upon these two occupations as the peculiar business of the place. Jane's spirits improved very much; there was much curiosity to see her, on account of her reputation as a beauty; but, like the rest of her party, she was only occasionally in the public rooms.

"Have you seen the beautiful Mrs. Taylor?"—"I caught a glimpse of Mrs. Taylor, the great beauty, this morning—"What, the beautiful Jane Graham that was? is she as lovely as ever?"—were remarks that were frequently heard in the crowd.

Elinor also came in for her share of the public notice, and the attention she attracted was, of course, of a directly opposite character. There happened to be staying at Congress Hall, just then, a very pretty young lady, from Savannah, who was also considered a great fortune; she was known as the "lovely heiress," while Elinor, in contradistinction, was spoken of as the "ugly heiress."

"Do you know," said a young lady, standing on the piazza one evening, "I have not yet seen the ugly heiress. I should like to get a peep at her; is she really so very ugly?" she continued, addressing a young man at her side.

"Miss Wyllys, you mean; a perfect fright—ugly as sin," replied the gentleman.

Elinor, at the very moment, was standing immediately behind the speakers, and Mr. Ellsworth, who was talking to her, was much afraid she had heard the remark. To cut short the conversation, he immediately addressed her himself, raising his voice a little, and calling her by name.

The young lady was quite frightened, when she found the "ugly heiress" was her near neighbour, and even the dandy was abashed; but Elinor herself was rather amused with the circumstance, and she smiled at the evident mortification of the speakers. Never was there a woman more free from personal vanity than Elinor Wyllys; and she was indifferent to remarks of this kind, to a degree that would seem scarcely credible to that class of young ladies, who think no sound so delightful as that of a compliment. On the evening in question, the piazzas were crowded with the inmates of the hotels; those who had feeling for the beauties of nature, and those who had not, came out alike, to admire an unusual effect of moonlight upon a fine mass of clouds. Elinor was soon aware that she was in the neighbourhood of Mrs. Hilson and her sister, by the silly conversation they were keeping up with their companions. These Longbridge ladies generally kept with their own party, which was a large one. The Wyllyses were not sorry that they seldom met; for, little as they liked the sisters, they wished always to treat them civilly, on account of their father. The English art of "cutting" is, indeed, little practised in America; except in extreme cases; all classes are too social in their feelings and habits to adopt it. It is, indeed, an honourable characteristic of those who occupy the highest social position in America—those who have received, in every respect, the best education in the country—that, as a class, they are free from the little, selfish, ungenerous feeling of mere exclusiveism.

"Oh, here you are, Miss Wyllys!" exclaimed Emmeline Hubbard to Elinor, who was talking to Mrs. Creighton. "I have been wishing to see you all the afternoon—I owe you an apology."

"An apology to me, Miss Hubbard?—I was not at all aware of it."

"Is it possible? I was afraid you would think me very rude this morning, when I spoke to you in the drawing-room, for there was a gentleman with you at the time. Of course I ought not to have joined you at such a moment, but I was anxious to give you the Longbridge news."

"Certainly; I was very glad to hear it: the conversation you interrupted was a very trifling one."

"Oh, I did not wish to insinuate that you were conversing on a PARTICULARLY interesting subject. But, of course, I am too well acquainted with the etiquette of polished circles, not to know that it is wrong for one young lady to intrude upon another while conversing with a gentleman.

"If there be such a point of etiquette, I must have often broken it very innocently, myself. I have never practised it, I assure you."

"Ah, that is very imprudent, Miss Wyllys!" said the fair Emmeline, shaking her fan at Elinor. "Who knows how much mischief one may do, in that way? You might actually prevent a declaration. And then a young lady is, of course, always too agreeably occupied in entertaining a beau, to wish to leave him for a female friend. It is not everybody who would be as good-natured as yourself at such an interruption."

"I have no merit whatever in the matter, I assure you; for I was very glad to find that—"

Just at that moment one of Miss Hubbard's admirers approached her, and without waiting to hear the conclusion of Elinor's remark, she turned abruptly from the lady, to meet the gentleman, with a striking increase of grace, and the expression of the greatest interest in her whole manner.

Elinor smiled, as the thought occurred to her, that this last act of rudeness was really trying to her good-nature, while she had never dreamed of resenting the interruption of the morning. But Miss Hubbard was only following the code of etiquette, tacitly adopted by the class of young ladies she belonged to, who never scrupled to make their manner to men, much more attentive and flattering than towards one of themselves, or even towards an older person of their own sex.

Elinor, however, had seen such manoeuvres before, and she would scarcely have noticed it at the moment, had it not been for Miss Emmeline's previous apology.

Mrs. Hilson soon approached her. "Has Emmeline been communicating our Longbridge intelligence, Miss Wyllys? Do you think it a good match?"

"I hope it will prove so; we were very glad to hear of it. Mary Van Horne is a great favourite of my aunt's, and Mr. Roberts, I hear, is highly spoken of."

"Yes; and he is very rich; too; she has nothing at all herself; I believe.''

"Do you know whether they are to live in New York? I hope they will not go very far from us."

"I suppose they will live in the city, as he is so wealthy; Mary will have an opportunity of tasting the fascinations of high life. I shall introduce her to a clique of great refinement at once. Don't you think Saratoga the most delightful place in the world, Miss Wyllys? I am never so happy as when here. I delight so much in the gay world; it appears to me that I breathe more freely in a crowd—solitude oppresses me; do you like it?"

"I have never tried it very long. If you like a crowd, you must be perfectly satisfied, just now."

''And so I am, Miss Wyllys, perfectly happy in these fashionable scenes. Do you know, it is a fact, that I lose my appetite unless I can sit down to table with at least thirty or forty fashionably dressed people about me; and I never sleep sounder than on board a steamboat, where the floor is covered with mattresses. I am not made for retirement, certainly. Ah, Monsieur Bonnet, here you are again, I see; what have you done with the Baron?—is not the Baron with you?"

"No, Madame; he has not finish his cigar. And where is Mlle. Emmeline?—I hope she has not abandonne me!" said M. Bonnet, who, to do him justice, was a sufficiently respectable man, a French merchant in New York, and no way connected with the Baron.

"Oh, no; she is here; we were waiting for the Baron and you to escort us to the drawing-room; but we will remain until the Baron comes. I have heard something that will put you in good-humour, another of those marriages you admire so much—one of the parties rolling in wealth and luxury, the other poor as Job's turkey."

"Ah, vraiment; that is indeed delightful; cela est fort touchant; that show so much sensibilite, to appreciate le merite, though suffering from poverty. A marriage like that must be beau comme un reve d'Amour!"

{"vraiment" = truly; "cela est fort touchant" = that is very touching; "beau comme un reve d'Amour" = as beautiful as a dream of Love (French)}

"You are quite romantic on the subject; but don't people make such matches in France?"

"Ah, non, Madame; le froid calcul dominates there at such times. I honour the beautiful practice that is common in votre jeune Amerique; cela rappelle le siecle d'or. Can there be a tableau more delicieux than a couple unis under such circonstances? The happy epoux, a young man perhaps, of forty, and la femme a creature angelique;" here M. Bonnet cast a glance at Miss Emmeline; "une creature angelique, who knows that he adores her, and who says to him, 'mon ami je t'aime, je veux faire ton bonheur,' and who bestows on him her whole heart, and her whole fortune; while he, of course, oppressed with gratitude, labours only to increase that fortune, that he may have it in his power to make the life of his bien aimee beautiful comme un jour de fete."

{"froid calcul" = cold calculation; "votre jeune..." = your young America; it reminds one of the golden age; "tableau more delicieux than a couple unis under such circonstances" = a prettier picture than a couple united under such circumstances; "epoux" = husband. "la femme a creature angelique" = the wife an angelic creature; "mon ami, je t'aime, je veux faire ton bonheur" = my friend, I love you, I wish to make you happy; "bien aimee beautiful comme un jour de fete" = beloved as beautiful as a day of festival (mixed French and English)}

"You are eloquent, Mr. Bonnet."

"N'est ce pas un sujet, Madame, to toucher le coeur de l'homme in a most delicate point; a man who could be insensible to such delicacy, to such aimable tendresse, would be no better than one of your sauvages, one of your Mohicans!"

{"N'est ce pas un sujet, Madame, to toucher le coeur de l'homme..." = Is this not a subject, Madame, which touches the heart of man...; "to such aimable tendresse" = to such pleasant affection (mixed French and English)}

"Well, I don't think so much of it, because it is very common here; such matches happen every day."

"And who are the happy couple you refer to at present?"

"'Tis a young gentleman of New York city, Mr. Roberts, who is going to marry a young lady, whose father is a neighbour of pa's."

"And what is the sum the young lady has bestowed upon her grateful adorateur?"

"Oh, the lady has not anything to bestow in this case; it is the gentleman, who is very wealthy, and doing a very handsome business in New York."

"Ah," said M. Bonnet, taking a pinch of snuff; "that is not so interesting I think, as when the mari is the favoured party. The heart of man is more susceptible of lasting gratitude for un tel bienfait."

{"mari" = husband; "un tel bienfait" = such a favor (French)}

"The gentleman has all the money, this time; I don't think Mary Van Horne will have a cent; do you, Miss Wyllys?"

But Elinor was gone. As the Baron appeared, however, Mrs. Hilson did not regret it.

"Ah, Baron, I thought you were never coming. You ought to be much obliged to me, for I had just told Monsieur Bonnet, we must not move till the Baron comes; the Baron will not know where to find us."



CHAPTER VII. {XXX}

"They sit conferring —————————." Taming the Shrew.

{William Shakespeare, "The Taming of the Shrew", V.ii.102}

THE usual evening circle had collected in Miss Wyllys's parlour, with the addition of Mary Van Alstyne, who had just arrived from Poughkeepsie, and Mrs. St. Leger. Miss Emma Taylor had gone to a concert with her good-natured brother-in-law, and a couple of her admirers. Jane and her sister-in-law, Adeline, were sitting together in a corner, talking partly about their babies, partly about what these two young matrons called "old times;" that is to say, events which had transpired as far back as three or four years previously. To them, however, those were "old times;" for, since then, the hopes and fears, cares and pleasures, of the two friends were much changed.

Among the rest of the party the conversation became more general; for Elinor had just finished a song, and Mr. Wyllys had just beaten Mrs. Creighton at a game of chess.

"Mr. Hazlehurst, pray what have you done with my saya y manto?" asked the pretty widow, taking a seat at the side of Elinor, on a sofa. "Here have you been, three, four, five days, and I have not even alluded to it, which, you must observe is a great act of forbearance in a lady, when there is a piece of finery in question."

{"saya y manto" = skirt and cloak (Spanish)}

"I am really ashamed of myself for not having reported it safe at Philadelphia, before. I would not send it to your house, when I heard you were here, for I wished to deliver it in person; and I did not bring it with me, because Mrs. Hazlehurst told me it was too warm for a fashionable lady to wear anything as heavy as black silk for the next three months."

"Well, of course I am very much obliged to you for the trouble you have had with it; but I shall defer thanking you formally, until I find out whether it is becoming or not."

"Do you expect to make a very captivating Spaniard?" asked Mr. Stryker.

"I shall do my best, certainly; but I shall leave you to decide how far I succeed, Mr. Stryker. Are the Brazilian women pretty, Mr. Hazlehurst?—what do they look like?"

"Very like Portuguese," was the answer.

"More than the Americans look like the English?" inquired Elinor.

"Far more," said Harry; "but you know there is less difference between the climates of Brazil and Portugal, than between ours and that of England."

"For my part," observed Mr. Ellsworth, "I do not think we look in the least like the English—neither men nor women. We are getting very fast to have a decided physiognomy of our own. I think I could pick out an American from among a crowd of Europeans, almost as soon as I could a Turk."

"You always piqued yourself, Ellsworth, upon having a quick eye for national characteristics. We used to try him very often, when we were in Europe, Mrs. Creighton, and I must do him the justice to say he seldom failed."

"Oh, yes; I know all Frank's opinions on the subject," replied Mrs. Creighton: "it is quite a hobby with him."

"What do you think are the physical characteristics of the Americans, as compared with our English kinsmen?" inquired Mr. Wyllys.

"We are a darker, a thinner, and a paler people. The best specimens of the English have the advantage in manliness of form and carriage; the American is superior in activity, in the expression of intelligence and energy in the countenance. The English peculiarities in their worst shape are, coarseness and heaviness of form; a brutal, dull countenance; the worst peculiarities among the Americans are, an apparent want of substance in the form, and a cold, cunning expression of features. I used often to wonder, when travelling in Europe, particularly in France and Germany, at the number of heavy forms and coarse features, which strike one so often there, even among the women, and which are so very uncommon in America."

"Yes; that brutal coarseness of features, which stood for the model of the old Satyrs, is scarcely to be met in this country, though by no means uncommon in many parts of Europe," observed Hazlehurst.

"I was very much struck the other evening, at the dance, with the appearance of the women," continued Mr. Ellsworth. "Not that they are so brilliant in their beauty—one sees beautiful women in every country; but they are so peculiarly feminine, and generally pretty, as a whole. By room-fulls, en masse, they appear to more advantage I think, than any other women; the general effect is very seldom broken by coarseness of face, or unmanageable awkwardness of form."

"Yes, you are right," said Mr. Stryker. "There is a vast deal of prettiness, and very little repulsive ugliness among the women in this country. But it strikes me they are inclining a little too much to the idea, just now, that all the beauty in the world is collected in these United States, which, as we all know is rather a mistaken opinion."

"Certainly; that would be an extremely ridiculous notion."

"You think delicacy then, the peculiar characteristic of American beauty?" said Mr. Wyllys.

"Yes, sir; but I could point out others, too. Brown hair and hazel eyes are another common feature in American beauty. If you look over the pretty women of your acquaintance, you will find that the case I think."

"Like Mrs. Creighton's," said Elinor, smiling.

"No; Josephine's features are not sufficiently regular for a beauty," said her brother, good-naturedly.

"I shan't get a compliment from Frank, Miss Wyllys," replied the widow, shaking her head. "I agree with him, though, about the brown-haired beauties; for, I once took the trouble to count over my acquaintances, and I found a great many that answered his description. I think it the predominating colour among us. I am certainly included in the brown tribe myself, and so are you, Miss Wyllys."

"As far as the colour of my hair goes," replied Elinor, with a smile which seemed to say, talk on, I have no feeling on the subject of my plain face. One or two persons present had actually paused, thinking the conversation was taking an unfortunate turn, as one of the ladies present was undeniably wanting in beauty. To encourage the natural pursuit of the subject, Elinor remarked that, "light hair and decidedly blue eyes, like Mrs. St. Leger's, are not so very common, certainly; nor true black hair and eyes like your's, Jane."

"You are almost as much given to compliments, Miss Wyllys, as I am," said Mrs. Creighton; "I have to say a saucy thing now and then, by way of variety."

"The saucy speeches are for your own satisfaction, no doubt, and the compliments for that of your friends, I suppose," replied Elinor, smiling a little archly; for she had very good reasons for mistrusting the sincerity of either mode of speech from the lips of the gay widow; whom, for that very reason, she liked much less than her brother.

"Do you really think me too severe?—wait till we are better acquainted!"

"I shall always think you very charming," replied Elinor, with her usual frank smile; for, in fact, she admired Mrs. Creighton quite as much as the rest of the world. And then observing that Mr. Ellsworth was listening to their conversation, she turned to him and asked, if the true golden hair, so much admired by the Italian poets, and so often sung by them, were still common in Italy?

"Judging from books and pictures, I should think it must have been much more common some centuries ago than at the present day; for, certainly, there is not one Italian woman in a hundred, who has not very decidedly black hair and eyes. I remember once in a translation from English into Italian, I used the expression 'grey eyes,' which diverted my master very much: he insisted upon it, there was no 'such thing in nature;' and even after I had reminded him of Napoleon, he would not believe the Emperor's eyes were not black. He was a thorough Italian, of course, and knew nothing of the northern languages, or he would have met with the expression before."

"Let me tell you, Ellsworth," said Harry, after a short pause in the conversation, "that it is very pleasant to pass an agreeable evening in this way, chatting with old friends. You have no idea how much I enjoy it after a three years' exile!"

"I can readily believe it."

"No, I don't think you understand it at all. It is true you were roving about the world several years, but you were not alone, my dear sir. You had indeed the advantage of particularly agreeable companions with you: in Paris you had Mrs. Creighton, and in Egypt you had your humble servant. And then, in the next place, your mind was constantly occupied; you lived with the past while in Italy and Greece, and with the present in Paris. Now, at Rio, there is no past at all, and not much of a present."

"Is there no general society at Rio?" inquired Miss Wyllys.

"Oh, yes; society enough, in the usual meaning of the word. I was very fortunate in meeting with some very agreeable people, and have really a strong regard for Manezes {sic}—a good fellow he is, and I hope to see him here one of these days. But they were all new acquaintances. You cannot think how much I wanted to see a face I had known all my life; I was positively at one time on the verge of being home-sick."

"You found out that you were more tender-hearted than you had believed yourself," said Mr. Ellsworth.

"So it seems," replied Harry; a shade of embarrassment crossing his face as he spoke.

"I should have thought some old acquaintance or other would have gone straggling towards Rio, in these travelling days," observed Mr. Ellsworth.

"No, I was particularly unfortunate: once when the American squadron lay at Rio for some weeks, and I had several friends on board the Macedonian, I happened at that very time to be absent on an excursion in the interior. For six months, or so it did very well; it takes one as long as that to enjoy the lovely scenery, to say nothing of the novelty; but after admiring the bay and the Corcovado under every possible aspect, I got at last to be heartily tired of Rio. I should have run away, if we had not been recalled this summer."

{"Macedonian" = a United States warship, commanded during the early 1840s by Commodore William Branford Shubrick (1790-1874), a life-long close friend of James Fenimore Cooper. Susan Fenimore Cooper wrote a biography of him in 1876; "Corcovado" = a famous mountain peak overlooking the bay of Rio de Janeiro}

"You should have fallen in love," said Mrs. Creighton.

"I don't think I succeeded in that; perhaps I did not try very hard."

"But is not the state of society pleasant at Rio?" inquired Mr. Wyllys.

"Not particularly, sir; it is too much like our own for that; something provincial lingering about it, although they have an emperor of their own. We cannot do without the other hemisphere yet, in spite of our self-important airs. We Yankees have coaxed Time out of a great deal, but he is not to be cheated for all that. People were not busy for thousands of years in the Old World, merely to qualify them for discovering America, whatever some of our patriots may say on the subject."

"Yes, you are right, Harry; I have often wished that our people would remember what they seem to forget, that Time has a prerogative beyond their reach. There is a wide difference between a blind reverence for Time, and an infatuated denial of his power; and I take it to be one of the duties of your generation to find out the dividing line in this and other points, and shape your practice accordingly."

"Yes, sir; it appears to me high time that the civilized world set about marking more distinctly a great many boundary lines, on important moral questions; and it is to be presumed, that with so much experience at our command, we shall at last do something towards it. It is to be hoped that mankind will at length learn not always to rush out of one extreme into the other; and when they feel the evil of one measure, not to fly for relief to its very opposite, but set about looking for the true remedy, which is generally not so far off."

"You don't believe in moral homoeopathy?" said Mrs. Stanley.

"Not in the least."

"Well, we are very much obliged to you for getting tired of Rio," said Mrs. Creighton; "and thinking that the gay world of Philadelphia was quite as agreeable as the Imperial Court."

"I take it for granted, however, that it was not exactly the gay world that you regretted," said Ellsworth.

"Not exactly, no; general society is not sufficiently perfect in its way among us, for a man to pine after."

"I have often thought," observed Elinor, "that the spirit of mere dissipation must be less excusable in this country than in Europe. Society must have so many attractions there—more general finish—more high accomplishment."

"Yes; we want more of the real thing; we have smatterers enough as it is," replied Mr. Ellsworth.

"And then the decorations are so well got up in Europe!" exclaimed Mrs. Creighton. "I must confess myself enough of a woman, to be charmed with good decorations."

"Something far better than mere decoration; however, is requisite to make society at all agreeable," continued Mr. Ellsworth. "There is luxury enough among us, in eating and drinking, dressing and furniture, for instance; and yet what can well be more silly, more puerile, than the general tone of conversation at common parties among us? And how many of the most delightful soirees in Paris, are collected in plain rooms, au second, or au troisieme, with a brick floor to stand on, and a glass of orgeat, with a bit of brioche to eat!"

{"au second, or au troisieme" = on the third or fourth floor; "orgeat" = a syrup flavored drink; "brioche" = a simple pastry (French)}

"Lots and Love—Speculation and Flirtation, are too entirely the order of the day, and of the evening, with us," said Harry; "whether figuring on Change, or on a Brussels carpet."

{"on Change" = at the stock market}

"I have often been struck, myself, with the excessive silliness of the conversation at common parties, especially what are called young parties; though I have never seen anything better," said Elinor.

"Those young parties are enough to spoil any society," said Harry.

"Perhaps, however, you have too high an idea of such scenes in Europe, precisely because you have not seen them, Miss Wyllys," observed Mr. Ellsworth.

"That may very possibly be the case."

"There are always silly and ignorant people to be met with everywhere," remarked Harry; "but the difference lies in the general character of the circle, which is not often so insipid and so puerile in Europe."

"It is the difference, I suppose, between a puppet-show and genteel comedy," said Elinor.

"Precisely, Miss Wyllys," said Mr. Ellsworth, smiling.

"We have very pretty puppets, though," observed Mrs. Creighton; "quite well-dressed, and sufficiently graceful, too; that is to say, the young lady puppets. As for the gentlemen, I shall not attempt to defend them, en masse, neither their grace nor their coats."

"You won't allow us to be either pretty or well-dressed?" said Mr. Stryker.

"Oh, everybody knows that Mr. Stryker's coat and bow are both unexceptionable."

"Why don't you go to work, good people, and improve the world, instead of finding fault with it?" said Mr. Wyllys, who was preparing for another game of chess with Mrs. Robert Hazlehurst.

"A labour of Hercules, sir!" exclaimed Mr. Stryker, shrugging his shoulders. "The position of a reformer is not sufficiently graceful to suit my fancy."

"It is fatiguing, too; it is much easier to sit still and find fault, sir," observed Robert Hazlehurst, smiling.

"Sauve qui peut, is my motto," continued Mr. Stryker. "I shall take care of myself; though I have no objection that the rest of the world should profit by my excellent example; they may improve on my model, if they please."

{"sauve qui peut" = everyone for himself (French)}

"The fact is, that manners, and all other matters of taste, ought to come by instinct," said Mrs. Robert Hazlehurst; "one soon becomes tired of beings regularly tutored on such points."

"No doubt of that," replied Harry; "but unfortunately, though reading and writing come by nature, as Dogberry says, in this country, yet it is by no means so clear that good taste follows as a consequence."

{"Dogberry" = a constable in Shakespeare's comedy, "Much Ado About Nothing": "To be a well-favor'd man is the gift of fortune, but to write and read comes by nature." III.iii.14-16}

"Good taste never came by nature, anywhere but in old Greece, I take it," said Ellsworth. "In a new state of society, such things must force themselves upon one."

"Certainly," said Mr. Wyllys; "and you young people, who have had so many advantages of education and leisure, are very right to give the subject some attention, for the sake of the community in which you live. Manners in their best meaning, as a part of civilization, are closely connected at many different points, with the character and morals of a nation. Hitherto in this country, the subject has been too much left to itself; but in many respects there is a good foundation to work upon—some of our national traits are very creditable."

"That is true, sir," replied Mr. Ellsworth; "and Americans are naturally very quick in taking a hint, and in fitting it to their own uses. They are a good-natured, sociable race, too, neither coarse nor unwieldy in body or mind. All they want is, a little more reflection on the subject, and a sufficiently large number of models, to observe, and compare together; for they are too quick and clever, not to prefer the good to the bad, when the choice lies before them."

"Remember too," said Mr. Wyllys, "that if you cannot do everything, you must not suppose you can do nothing."

"There is one point in American manners, that is very good," said Harry: "among our very best people we find a great deal of true simplicity; simplicity of the right sort; real, not factitious."

"Sweet simplicity, oh, la!" exclaimed Mr. Stryker. "Well, I am a bad subject to deal with, myself. I am too old to go to school, and I am too young yet, I flatter myself, to give much weight to my advice. Not quite incorrigible, however, I trust," he added, endeavouring to smile in a natural way, as he turned towards Elinor and Mrs. Creighton. "I shall be most happy to learn from the ladies, and try to improve under their advice. Have you no suggestions to make, Miss Wyllys?"

"I am afraid I could not be of much use in that way."

"There are only a thousand-and-one hints that I should give you," said Mrs. Creighton, laughing.

"You must be frightfully particular!" exclaimed Mr. Stryker; "pray, what is hint No. 1?"

"Oh, I should not have time to make even a beginning; it is growing very late, and I shall defer your education until the next time we meet. Mr. Hazlehurst, that is my scarf, I believe, on your chair."

The party separated; Harry offering his arm to Mrs. Creighton.



CHAPTER VIII. {XXXI}

"Verily You shall not go—a lady's verily is As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet?" Winter's Tale.

{William Shakespeare, "A Winter's Tale", I.ii.50-51}

MRS. STANLEY had joined the Wyllyses at Saratoga, a few days after they arrived, and the meeting between Hazlehurst and herself had been very cordial. She had always felt a warm interest in Harry, looking upon him as her husband's chosen representative, and all but an adopted son; the intercourse between them had invariably been of the most friendly and intimate nature.

Mr. Stanley's will had placed the entire control of his large estate in the hands of his widow, and his old friend, Mr. Wyllys. Mrs. Stanley, herself, was to retain one half of the property, for life; at her death it was to be divided in different legacies, to relatives of her own, and to charitable institutions, according to her own discretion. The other half was also to be kept in the hands of the executors until his own son returned, and had reached the age of five-and-twenty; or, in case the report of William Stanley's death, which had just reached his family, were to be confirmed, then Harry Hazlehurst was to take his place, and receive his son's portion, on condition that his, Hazlehurst's, second son should take the name of Stanley. Hazlehurst was a nephew by marriage; that is to say, his father, after the death of a first wife, Harry's mother, had married Mr. Stanley's only sister: this lady died before her brother, leaving no children. At the time this will was made, Mr. Stanley had given up all, but the faintest, hope of his son's being alive; still, he left letters for him, containing his last blessing, and forgiveness, in case the young man were to return. He also expressed a wish that an easy allowance, according to Mrs. Stanley's discretion, should be given, after the age of one-and-twenty, to his son, or to Harry, whichever were to prove his heir; on condition that the recipient should pursue some regular profession or occupation, of a respectable character. Hazlehurst was to receive a legacy of thirty thousand dollars, in case of William Stanley's return.

Such was Mr. Stanley's will; and circumstances having soon showed that the report of his son's death was scarcely to be doubted, Hazlehurst had been for years considered as his heir. As Harry grew up, and his character became formed, his principles proving, in every respect, such as his friends could wish, Mrs. Stanley had made very ample provision for him. The allowance he had received for his education was very liberal, and during his visit to Europe it had been increased. At different times considerable sums had been advanced, to enable him to make desirable purchases: upon one occasion, a portion of the property upon which his ancestors had first settled, as colonists, was offered for sale by a distant relative, and Harry wished to obtain possession of it; twenty thousand dollars were advanced for this purpose. Then, Hazlehurst was very desirous of collecting a respectable library, and, as different opportunities offered, he had been enabled, while in Europe, to make valuable acquisitions of this kind, thanks to Mrs. Stanley's liberality. As every collector has a favourite branch of his own, Harry's tastes had led him to look for botanical works, in which he was particularly interested; and he had often paid large sums for rare or expensive volumes connected with this science. Since he had reached the age of five-and-twenty, or, during the last two years, he had been in full possession of the entire half of Mr. Stanley's property, amounting, it was generally supposed, to some ten thousand a year. According to a codicil of the will, Hazlehurst was also to take possession of Greatwood, at his marriage: this was a pleasant country-house, surrounded by a place in fine order; but Mrs. Stanley, who preferred living in town, had already given him possession.

"I wish, Harry, we could keep you at home, now," said Mrs. Stanley to her young friend, one morning, as he was sitting with herself, Mary Van Alstyne, and Elinor, in her rooms at Congress Hall. "I think Mr. Henley could spare you better than we can. Is it quite decided that you go to Russia?"

"You are very kind to express so much interest in my movements. But you must permit me to remind you of a piece of advice I have often received, as a youngster, from your own lips, dear Mrs. Stanley; and that is, never to abandon merely from caprice, the path of life I might choose."

"Certainly; but I think you might find very good reasons for staying at home, now; your affairs would go on all the better for some personal attention; I should be sorry to have you a rover all your life, Harry."

"I have no, intention, Ma'am, I assure you, of being a vagrant all my days. And if there is nothing else to keep me at home, it is highly probable that I shall be thrown on the shelf before long by Uncle Sam. When a man has served his apprenticeship, and is fully qualified to fill his office creditably, he may prepare to be turned out; and, very likely, some raw backwoodsman, who knows nothing of the world in general, or of diplomacy in particular, will be put in his place. That is often the way things are managed among us, you know.

{Susan Fenimore Cooper is reflecting the views of her father, based on his experience with American diplomacy in Europe from 1826-33. The United States Foreign Service did not become a fully professional, career organization until 1946}

"For that very reason, I would not have anything to do with public life, if I were a young man!" exclaimed Mrs. Stanley, earnestly. "So many men who are ill-qualified for either public or private confidence, get into office, that I should think no man of high principles and honourable views, would care to belong to the body of public servants."

"There is all the more need, then, that every honest man, who has an opportunity of serving his country, should do so," observed Harry. "I do not believe, however, that as regards principles, the public men among us are any worse than the public men elsewhere," he added.

"Where all are chosen, they ought to be better," said Mary Van Alstyne.

"That I grant," said Hazlehurst; "the choice by election, or by appointment, might often be more creditable; whenever it is bad, it is disgraceful to the community."

"Look at A——-, B——-, and C——-, whom you and I happen to know!" exclaimed Mrs. Stanley.

"No doubt they are little fit for the offices they hold," replied Harry.

"The worst of it is this, Harry: that the very qualities which ought to recommend you, will probably keep you back in the career you have chosen," said Mrs. Stanley. "Your principles are too firm for public life."

"I shall try the experiment, at least," said Harry. "Mr. Henley urges me to persevere, and with his example before me, I ought not to be discouraged; he is a proof that a public man is not necessarily required to be a sycophant, and a time-server; that he is not always neglected because he is an upright man, and a gentleman. I shall follow his example; and I am convinced the experiment would succeed much oftener, provided it were fairly tried."

"Mrs. Stanley shook her head. She was a woman of rather a peculiar character, though very warm in her feelings, and firm in her principles. She had become disgusted with the world, from seeing much that was evil and disgraceful going on about her; forgetting to observe the good as well as the bad. Of late years, she had withdrawn entirely within a narrow circle of old friends, among whom the Wyllyses and Hazlehursts held a conspicuous place. She was disposed to mistrust republican institutions, merely because she attributed every evil of the society about her, to this one cause: her opinions on this subject were, however, of no value whatever; for she knew nothing of other countries, their evils and abuses. If warmly attached to her friends, she was certainly too indifferent to the community in which she lived. She was very decided in all her actions and opinions: thus, for instance, she would never allow a newspaper, of any character whatever, to appear in her house—she held every sheet alike, to be loose in principles, and vulgar in tone; because, unfortunately, there are many to be found which answer such a description. An office-holder, and a speculator, she would never trust, and avoided every individual of either class as much as possible. Her friends would have wished her more discriminating in her opinions, but she never obtruded these upon others. Personally, no woman could be more respected by her intimates; there was nothing low or trivial in her character and turn of mind—no shadow of vacillation in her principles or her feelings. Mrs. Stanley and her young friend Hazlehurst, much as they esteemed and respected each other, disagreed on many subjects. Harry made a point of looking at both sides of a question; he was loyal to his country, and willing to serve it to the best of his ability—not at all inclined to be an idler, and play the drone in the bee-hive, whether social or political. Mrs. Stanley had much regretted his being in any way connected with public life, but she seldom attempted to influence him.

"What do you say, young ladies?" asked Harry, at length, turning towards Elinor and Mary Van Alstyne, who had hitherto thought the conversation of too personal a nature, to speak much themselves. "Do you think I had better stay at home, and look after the stock at Greatwood, or go to St. Petersburg, and set up my droschky?"

{"droschky" = a four-wheeled open carriage used in Russia}

"I should never have the least fancy for going to Russia," replied Mary; "and, therefore, I am not much disposed to admire your constancy in adhering to Mr. Henley."

"Oh, go, by all means," said Elinor; "you will see so much! And be sure you go to the Crimea before you come home."

"The Crimea is certainly a temptation," observed Harry. "I beg, ladies, you will honour me with your commands for St. Petersburg, some time during the next three months. I refer you to Mrs. Creighton for a certificate of good taste; her saya y manto is perfect in its way, I am told."

"Perhaps I ought to have engaged Mrs. Creighton on my side, before I tried to coax you into staying at home," said Mrs. Stanley, smiling.

We are obliged to confess that Harry coloured at this remark, in spite of a determination not to do so; and a great misdemeanour it was in a diplomatist, to be guilty of blushing; it clearly proved that Hazlehurst was still in his noviciate. Happily, however, if the Department of State, at Washington, be sometimes more particular in investigating the party politics of its agents in foreign countries, than other qualifications, it is also certain, on the other hand, that they do not require by any means, as much bronze of countenance as most European cabinets.

{"bronze of countenance" = unblushingness, brazen lying}

"Oh, Mrs. Creighton strongly recommends me to persevere in diplomacy," said Harry.

Just at that moment, a note was brought in from this very lady.

"With Mrs. Creighton's compliments," said the man who brought it.

Harry's colour rose again, and for a second he looked a little embarrassed. Mrs. Stanley smiled, and so did the young ladies, just a little.

"I will look for the book immediately,'' was Harry's reply; and turning to the ladies, he communicated the fact, that Mrs. Creighton had asked for the volume of engravings which he had shown to Mr. Wyllys, two or three evenings before. The book was in Miss Wyllys's room, and Elinor went for it.

"Will you dine with us to-day, Harry, or at the other house?" asked Mrs. Stanley.

{"other house" = i.e., other hotel, Congress Hall and the United States being the two fashionable hotels in Saratoga Springs}

"Thank you, ma'am; I am engaged to dine with Mr. Henley, who is only here for the day, and wishes to have a little business-talk with me. We are to eat a bachelor's dinner together, in his room."

Elinor returned with the book, and Harry made his bow.

As he left the room, Mary Van Alstyne observed that Mr. Hazlehurst seemed quite attentive to his friend's sister. "He admires the pretty widow, I fancy," she said.

"No wonder," said Elinor; "Mrs. Creighton is so very pretty, and very charming."

"Yes; she is very pretty, with those spirited brown eyes, and beautiful teeth. She is an adept in the art of dressing, too, and makes the most of every advantage. But though she is so pretty, and so clever, and so agreeable, yet I do not like her."

"People seem to love sometimes, men especially, where they do not LIKE," said Mrs. Stanley. "I should not be surprised, at any time, to hear that Harry and Mrs. Creighton are engaged. I wish he may marry soon."

"The lady is, at least, well-disposed for conquest, I think," said Mary Van Alstyne.

"She will probably succeed," replied Elinor, in a quiet, natural voice.

Miss Agnes, who had just entered the room, heard the remark, and was gratified by the easy tone in which Elinor had spoken. Since Hazlehurst's return, Elinor's manner towards him had been just what her aunt thought proper under the circumstances; it was quite unembarrassed and natural, though, of course, there was more reserve than during the years they had lived so much together, almost as brother and sister. We are obliged to leave the ladies for the present, and follow Hazlehurst to his tete-a-tete dinner with Mr. Henley.

We pass over the meal itself, which was very good in its way; nor shall we dare to raise the curtain, and reveal certain communications relating to affairs of state, political and diplomatic, which were discussed by the minister and his secretary. Harry heard some Rio Janeiro news too, which seemed to amuse him, but would scarcely have any interest for the reader. At length, as Mr. Henley and Harry were picking their nuts, the minister happened to enquire the day of the month.

"It is the twentieth, I believe, sir; and by the same token, to-morrow will be my birth-day,"

"Your birth-day, will it?—How old may you be?"

"Twenty-seven, if I remember right."

"I had thought you two or three years younger. Well, I wish you a long life and a happy!"

"Thank you, sir; I am much obliged to you for the interest you have always shown me."

"No need of thanks, Harry; it is only what your father's son had a right to expect from me."

A silence of a moment ensued, when Mr. Henley again spoke.

"You are seven-and-twenty, you say, Hazlehurst?—let me give you a piece of advice—don't let the next ten years pass without marrying."

"I was just about making up my mind, at Rio, to be a gay bachelor, my dear sir," said Harry.

"Yes; I remember to have heard you say something of the kind; but take my advice, and marry, unless you have some very good reason for not doing so."

Hazlehurst made no answer, but helped himself to another supply of nuts. "More easily said than done, perhaps," he observed.

"Nonsense!—There are many amiable young women who would suit you; and it would be strange if you could not meet with one that would have you. Some pretty, lady-like girl. I dare say you know twenty such, in Philadelphia, or even here, at Saratoga."

"Five hundred, no doubt," replied Harry; "but suppose the very woman I should fancy, would not fancy me." Whether he was thinking of his past experience with Jane, or not, we cannot say.

"I don't see that a woman can find any reasonable fault with you—you do well enough, my good fellow, as the world goes; and I am sure there are, as you say, five hundred young women to choose from. In that point a man has the best of it; young girls of a certain class, if not angels, are at least generally unexceptionable; but there are many men, unhappily, whose moral reputations are, and should be obstacles in a woman's eyes."

'A regular old bachelor's notion, a mere marriage of convenience,' thought Harry, who rather resented the idea of the five hundred congenial spirits, in the shape of suitable young ladies.

"You are surprised, perhaps, to hear this from me," continued Mr. Henley.

"No, sir: for I once before heard you express much the same opinion."

"Did you?—I don't often think or speak on such matters; but I remember to have heard you talk about a single life occasionally, at Rio; and I always intended to give this piece of advice to my nephews, and to you, Harry. If I were to live my life over again, I should marry myself; for of late years I have felt the want of a home, and one can't have a pleasant home without the women."

"There I agree with you, sir, entirely."

"That is more than some gay, rattling young fellows would admit. Since you think so," continued Mr. Henley, smiling, "perhaps you have also fixed upon some amiable young girl, who would be a pleasant companion for you."

Hazlehurst was silent.

"I dare say you have, and I might have spared you the advice. If that is the case, you must make the most of the next three months; persuade her to marry you, and we can take her to Russia, to do the honours for us."

"Things have not gone quite so far as that, yet," said Harry, just a little embarrassed.

"Well, my good fellow, settle the matter your own way; I have at least satisfied my conscience, by telling you not to follow my own bad example," said the minister, as he rose from table.

It seemed that Mr. Henley, like most old bachelors, regretted not having married; though he thought that his habits had all become too confirmed, to make it worth while to attempt a change. As a general rule, it will be found that your decidedly old maid is contented with her lot, while your very old bachelor is dissatisfied with his. The peculiar evils of a single life—for every life must have its own—are most felt by women early in the day; by men, in old age. The world begins very soon to laugh at the old maid, and continues to laugh, until shamed out of the habit by her good nature, and her respectable life. The bachelor, on the contrary, for a long time finds an ally in the world; he goes on enjoying the pleasures it offers, until old age makes him weary of them—and then, as his head grows grey, when he finds himself going out of favour, he begins to feel the want of something better—a home to retreat to. He looks about him, and he finds that his female contemporary has outlived her peculiar annoyances; "the world forgetting, by the world forgot;" she has long since found some collateral home; or, in her right as a woman, has made a home for herself, where she lives as pleasantly as her neighbours. Perhaps he sets about imitating her example; but, poor fellow, he finds it an awkward task; he can never succeed in making his household gods smile with a good will, on a home where no female voice is heard at the fire-side.

{"the world forgetting...." = Alexander Pope (English poet, 1688-1744), "Eloisa to Abelard" I.207-208: "How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot."}

So thought Mr. Henley, and he had been intending to recommend to Harry to look out for a wife, for some time past. The minister's ideas on the subject of love and matrimony were, to be sure, rather matter of fact, and statesmanlike; he would have been quite satisfied if Hazlehurst had married the first young girl, of a respectable family, that he met with; the hundredth part of Mrs. Creighton's attractions he would have thought sufficient. Harry forgave him, however, for the sake of the kindness intended by the advice he had given; and the minister had the satisfaction of seeing his secretary, that evening, at a concert, quite gallant and attentive to a party of ladies, several of whom were young and pretty, although one was young and ugly.

"Who is that?" he asked of a friend; "that lady to whom Hazlehurst is talking? Half the young people here have grown up, since I was last at home."

"That is Mrs. Creighton."

"No; not Mrs. Creighton; I know her—a charming woman; the lady on the right."

"That is Miss Van Alstyne. Mrs. St. Leger is next to her; the young girl before her is Miss Emma Taylor."

"A pretty girl—but noisy, it seems."

"On the next bench, with Ellsworth, are Mrs. Tallman Taylor, the great beauty, and Miss Wyllys, the heiress."

"Yes, I know the family very well; but I never saw Mr. Wyllys's granddaughter before."

"She is quite plain," observed one gentleman.

"Very plain," replied the other, turning away.

The evening proved very sultry, and after accompanying the ladies home from the concert, Mr. Ellsworth proposed to Harry a stroll in the open air. The friends set out together, taking the direction of the spring; and, being alone, their conversation gradually became of a confidential nature. They touched upon politics, Mr. Henley's character and views, and various other topics, concluding with their own personal affairs. At length, when they had been out some little time, Mr. Ellsworth, after a moment's silence, turned to Harry and said:

"Hazlehurst, I have a confession to make; but I dare say you will not give me much credit for frankness—you have very probably guessed already what I have to tell."

"I certainly have had some suspicions of my own for the last few days; but I may be mistaken; I am not very good at guessing."

"I can have no motive," continued Mr. Ellsworth, "in concealing from you my regard for Miss Wyllys, and I hope you will wish me success."

"Certainly," replied Harry; who was evidently somewhat prepared for the disclosure.

"It is now some time since I have been attached to her, but it is only lately that I have been able to urge my suit as I could wish. The better I know Elinor Wyllys, the more anxious I am for success. I never met with a woman of a more lovely character."

"You only do her justice."

"There is something about her that is peculiar; different from the common-place set of young ladies one meets with every day; and yet she is perfectly feminine and womanly."

And Mr. Ellsworth here ran over various good qualities of Elinor's. It is impossible to say, whether Harry smiled or not, at this lover-like warmth: if he did, it was too dark for his friend to observe it.

"In a situation like mine, with a daughter to educate, the choice of a wife is particularly important. Of course I feel much anxiety as to the decision of a woman like Miss Wyllys, one whose good opinion is worth the wooing: and yet, if I do not deceive myself, her manner is not discouraging."

"Is she aware of your feelings?" asked Harry.

"Yes; I have only proposed in form quite lately, however, a day or two after you arrived. Miss Wyllys scarcely seemed prepared for my declaration, although I thought I had spoken sufficiently distinctly to be understood, some time since. She wished for time to consider: I was willing to wait as long as she pleased; with the hope of eventually succeeding. Her friends are quite well disposed towards me, think. Mr. Wyllys's manner to me has always been gratifying, and I hope her aunt is in my favour. To speak frankly, there have been times when I have felt much encouraged as regards Miss Wyllys herself. You will not think me a coxcomb, Hazlehurst, for opening my heart to you in this way."

"Certainly not; you honour me by your confidence."

"I should like to have your honest opinion as to my future prospects; for, of course, one can never feel sure until everything is settled. Josephine is hardly a fair judge—she is very sanguine; but like myself she is interested in the affair."

"Mrs. Creighton has so much discernment, that I should think she could not be easily deceived. If my kinswoman knows your views, I should say that you have reason to be encouraged by her manner. There is nothing like coquetry about her; I am convinced she thinks highly of you."

"Thank you; it gives me great pleasure to hear you say so. The question must now be decided before long. I was only prevented from explaining myself earlier, by the fear of speaking too soon. For though I have known Miss Wyllys some time, yet we have seldom met. I dare say you are surprised that I did not declare myself sooner; I am inclined to think you would have managed an affair of the kind more expeditiously; for you are more rapid in most of your movements than myself. But although I might imagine love at first sight, I never could fancy a declaration worth hearing, the first day."

"Do you insinuate that such is the practice of your humble servant?" asked Hazlehurst, smiling.

"Oh, no; but I was afraid you might disapprove of my deliberation. My chief hope rests upon Miss Wyllys's good sense and the wishes of her friends, who, I think, are evidently favourable to me. She has no silly, high-flown notions; she is now of an age—three or four-and-twenty I think—to take a reasonable view of the world; and I hope she will find the sincere affection of a respectable man, whose habits and position resemble her own, sufficient for her."

"You wish, I suppose, to hear me repeat, that such will undoubtedly be the result," said Harry, smiling again.

"Perhaps I do," replied Mr. Ellsworth, in the same tone. "I suppose you are discerning enough to be aware that I have a rival in Mr. Stryker."

"Stryker attentive to Elinor? It has not struck me; I had fancied him rather an admirer of Mrs. Creighton's."

"Of Josephine? Oh, no; she can't endure him, they are quarrelling half the time when together. No, it is very evident that Stryker is courting Miss Wyllys's favour. But I confess I feel encouraged by her conduct towards him; there is a quiet civility in it, which speaks anything but very decided approbation."

"I know Elinor too well, not to feel assured she must despise a man of Stryker's character," said Harry, with some indignation. "He can't appreciate her; it can be nothing more, on his part, than downright fortune-hunting."

"No doubt; there you mention another motive I have, for not being too hasty in my declaration to Miss Wyllys. I could wish to convince her that my attachment is sincere."

"Certainly. I forget twenty times a day that she is now a fortune, until I see some fellow, like William Hunter, or Stryker, paying their court to her. I have never been accustomed to consider her in that light, of old. In fact I had no idea of her reputation as an heiress, until I found it so well established when I arrived here. But Saratoga is just the place to make such discoveries. I was quite behind the age in every respect, it seems; for although it did not require much penetration to find out your secret, Ellsworth, yet I was taken entirely by surprise. You never made any allusion to anything of the kind, in your letters to me."