Elinor Wyllys .......................................................................................................................................................1

Susan Fenimore Cooper ...........................................................................................................................1

EDITOR'S PREFACE.............................................................................................................................2

CHAPTER I. ............................................................................................................................................3

CHAPTER II. ...........................................................................................................................................9

CHAPTER III........................................................................................................................................17

CHAPTER IV........................................................................................................................................21

CHAPTER V.........................................................................................................................................24

CHAPTER VI........................................................................................................................................31

CHAPTER VII. ......................................................................................................................................35

CHAPTER VIII.....................................................................................................................................38

CHAPTER IX........................................................................................................................................44

CHAPTER X.........................................................................................................................................52

CHAPTER XI........................................................................................................................................57

CHAPTER XII. ......................................................................................................................................62

CHAPTER XIII.....................................................................................................................................68

CHAPTER XIV.....................................................................................................................................73

CHAPTER XV......................................................................................................................................82

CHAPTER XVI.....................................................................................................................................88

CHAPTER XVII. ...................................................................................................................................95

CHAPTER XVIII. ..................................................................................................................................99

CHAPTER XIX...................................................................................................................................103

CHAPTER XX....................................................................................................................................108

CHAPTER XXI...................................................................................................................................115

CHAPTER XXII. .................................................................................................................................119

CHAPTER XXIII. ................................................................................................................................124

THERE is so much of mystification resorted to, at the present time, in the publication of books, that it has

become proper that the editor of Elinor Wyllys should explain what has been his own connection with this

The writer of this book is a valued female friend, who had a right to ask, and did ask, its editor's advice and

assistance, in presenting it to the public. This advice and assistance have been cheerfully afforded, though

neither has properly extended to the literary character of the work. As the author has not wished to appear, the

name of the editor has been used in obtaining the copyright, and his assistance given in forwarding and

returning proofsheets. Over a few of the last, the editor has cast an eye; but, believing the author of the book

to be fully competent herself, to superintend her own work, as it has gone through the press, this supervision

The editor has great confidence in the principles, taste, and intelligence of the real author of Elinor Wyllys.

She has seen much of that portion of the world with which a lady becomes acquainted, and has seen that

much under the most favorable circumstances. As usually happens in such cases, her book will be found free

from exaggerations of every sort; and will be more likely to be well received by persons of her own class,

than by those who are less familiar with its advantages. Imagination, feeling, sound principles, and good

taste, are all to be found in this book, though in what degree, the public will necessarily decide for itself.

IT will be well, perhaps, that the reader bear in mind, while running over the following pages, that many

passing observations, many trifles, which naturally find their way into any sketch of social life, refer chiefly

to things and notions in favour some ten years since; a period which is certainly not beyond the memory of

man, but very possibly beyond the clear recollection of some young lady reader, just within her teens. New

opinions, new ideas, new fashions have appeared among us since then, and made their way perceptibly.

Twenty years' possession constitutes a legal title, if we may believe the lawyers; but a single season is often

sufficient for a new fancyfancies of a serious nature too, sometimesto take full possession of the public

mind, and assume arbitrary control of the premises for the time being, at least.

It will be more honest to confess, at once, before the reader undertakes the first chapter, that the tale now

before him is a first appearance in printa first appearance, too, of one who, even now that the formidable

step is taken, feels little disposed to envy the honours of authorship. Writing may be a very pleasant pastime;

but printing seems to have many disagreeable consequences attending every stage of the process; and yet,

after all, reading is often the most irksome task of the three. In this last case, however, the remedy is

generally easy; one may throw aside the volume, and abuse the author. If there are books which MUST be

read, stupid or not, owing to the claim of some great name on the binding, the present story is not one of the

number; and perhaps the perfect liberty enjoyed by the reader under such circumstancesto like or dislike

independent of critics, to cut every leaf, or skip a dozen chapters at a time without fear of reproachwill

incline him to an amiable mood. It is to be hoped so; it will be unfortunate if, among many agreeable summer

excursions both on terra firma and in the regions of fancy, the hour passed at Longbridge should prove a

tedious one: in such a case the fault will belong entirely to the writer of the narrative, for there are certainly

{Samuel Rogers (English poet, 17631855), "Italy: Genevra" line 19. Samuel Rogers befriended James

HAD there been a predecessor of Mr. Downing in the country, some fiveandtwenty year since, to criticise

WyllysRoof, the home of our friend Elinor, his good taste would no doubt have suggested many

improvements, not only in the house itself, but also in the grounds which surrounded it. The building had

been erected long before the first Tudor cottage was transported, Lorettolike, across the Atlantic, and was

even anterior to the days of Grecian porticoes. It was a comfortable, sensiblelooking place, however, such as

were planned some eighty or a hundred years since, by men who had fortune enough to do as they pleased,

and education enough to be quite superior to all pretension. The house was a low, irregular, wooden building,

of ample size for the tastes and habits of its inmates, with broad piazzas, which not only increased its

dimensions, but added greatly to the comfort and pleasure of the family by whom it was occupied.

{"Downing" = Andrew Jackson Downing (18151852), noted American rural architect and landscape

gardener; "Lorettolike" = after Loreto, in Italy, where, according to tradition, a brick Holy House was

The grounds were of the simplest kind. The lawn which surrounded the house was merely a better sort of

meadow, from which the stones and briars had been removed with more care than usual, and which, on

account of its position, received the attention of one additional mowing in the course of the summer. A fine

wood, of a natural growth, approached quite near to the house on the northern side, partially sheltering it in

that direction, while an avenue of weeping elms led from the gate to the principal entrance, and a row of

locusts, planted at equal distances, lined the low, rude stone wall which shut out the highway. One piazza was

shaded by noble willows, while another was faced by a row of cherry trees, flanked by peach and pear. Fruit

trees, although so common and so lavish of their blessings in this climate, are often gathered about American

countryhouses, instead of being confined to gardens devoted to the purpose, as in Europe; a habit which

pleasantly reminds us that civilization has made a recent conquest over the wilderness in this new world, and

that our forefathers, only a few generations back, preferred the trees of the orchard to those of the forest, even

for ornament. Fruit trees are indeed beautiful objects when gay with the blossoms of spring, or rich with the

offerings of summer, and, mingled with others, are always desirable about a dwelling as simple and

unpretending in its character as WyllysRoof. Beneath the windows were roses and other flowering shrubs;

and these, with a few scattered natives of the soilelm, hickory, sycamore, and tulip treesfarther from the

house, were the only attempts at embellishment that had been made. The garden, surrounded by a white

paling, was thought an ornamental object, and lay within full view of the drawingroom windows; and yet it

was but a mixture of the useful and the beautiful, in which the former largely predominated. As a

kitchengarden it was certainly excellent; but the narrow flowerborders, which surrounded the ample beds

of melons and strawberries, asparagus and cauliflowers, would have appeared meanly furnished in the eyes of

a flowerfancier of the present day. There was not a hybrid among them, nor a single blossom but what bore

a plain, honest name; and although there were lilies and roses, pinks and violets in abundance, they would

probably have been all rooted out by your exclusive, fashionable gardener of the last summer, for they were

the commonest varieties only. There were but two walks on the lawn; one of these was gravelled, and led to

the gardengate; the other was a common footpath leading to the river, where the gentlemen of the family

kept their boats, and where the cattle, who often grazed on the lawn, went to drink. The grounds were

bounded on one side by a broad river, on the other by a sufficiently welltravelled highway. What particular

river and highway these were, through what particular state and county they ran, we do not think it incumbent

on us to reveal. It may easily be inferred, however, that WyllysRoof belonged to one of the older parts of

the country, at no great distance from the seaboard, for the trees that shaded the house were of a growth that

{"particular state..." = Longbridge, we learn, has steamboat connections to New York City, while steamboat

connections to Philadelphia are from nearby Upper Lewiston; in the course of the story, one of the first

railroads in America comes through town; this suggests, if anywhere, New Jersey. Judicial matters take place

in Philadelphia, which would seem to place Longbridge in Pennsylvania. It is not clear, however, that the

The interior arrangements of WyllysRoof corresponded very naturally with the appearance of things

outside. The ceilings were low, and the apartments small and numerous; much room had been thrown into

broad, airy passages, while closets and cupboards abounded. The whole of the lower floor had originally been

wainscoted, but Miss Agnes Wyllys was answerable for several innovations in the principal rooms. When

Mr. Wyllys decided to make his countryplace a permanent residence, his daughter, who was at the head of

his establishment, fancied that the furniture they had brought from their house in town could not be

advantageously disposed of, without cutting foldingdoors between the drawingrooms. It was fortunate that

a couple of adjoining rooms admitted of this arrangement, for at that day, two drawingrooms of equal size,

united by wide foldingdoors, were considered a necessary of life to all American families "on hospitable

thought intent." It seems to have been only very recently that any other arrangement has been found possible,

an important discovery, which, like many others that have preceded it, was probably the happy effect of

necessity, that mother of invention. Mr. Wyllys having cut through the partition, was next persuaded to take

down the wainscoting, and put up in its place a French paper, very pretty in its way, certainly, but we fear that

Miss Agnes had no better reason to give for these changes than the fact that she was doing as her neighbours

had done before her. Miss Wyllys was, however, little influenced in general by mere fashion, and on more

important matters could think for herself; this little weakness in favour of the foldingdoors may therefore be

forgiven, and justly ascribed to the character of the age in which she lived and gave teaparties.

{"on hospitable thought intent" = John Milton (English poet, 16081674), "Paradise Lost", Book V, line

For several years after they removed permanently to WyllysRoof, the family, strictly speaking, consisted of

Mr. Wyllys, his unmarried daughter, and the usual domestics, only. They were seldom alone, however; they

had generally some friend or relative with them, and in summer the house was often filled to overflowing,

during the whole season, with parties of friends, or the different branches of a large family connection; for the

Wyllyses had their full share of that free spirit of hospitality which seems characteristic of all classes of

Americans. After a time, however, another member was received into the family. This was the orphan

daughter of Mr. Wyllys's eldest son, an engaging little girl, to whom her grandfather and aunt were called

upon to fill the place of the father and mother she had lost. The little orphan was too young, at the time, to be

aware, either of the great affliction which had befallen her, or of her happy lot in being committed to such

The arrival of the little Elinor at WyllysRoof was the only important event in the family for some ten or

twelve years; the Wyllyses were not much given to change, and during that period things about them

remained much as they have just been described. We defer presenting the family more especially to the

reader's notice until our young friend Elinor had reached her seventeenth birthday, an event which was duly

celebrated. There was to be a little party on the occasion, Miss Agnes having invited some halfdozen

The weather was very warm, as usual at the last of August; and as the expected guests were late in making

their appearance, Mr. Wyllys had undertaken in the mean time to beat his daughter at a game of chess. Elinor,

mounted on a footstool, was intent on arranging a sprig of clematis to the best advantage, in the beautiful dark

hair of her cousin Jane Graham, who was standing for that purpose before a mirror. A goodlooking youth,

whom we introduce without farther ceremony as Harry Hazlehurst, was watching the chessplayers with

some interest. There were also two ladies sitting on a sofa, and as both happened at the time to be inmates of

WyllysRoof, we may as well mention that the elderly gentlewoman in a cap was Mrs. Stanley, the widow of

a connection from whom young Hazlehurst had inherited a large property. Her neighbour, a very pretty

woman, neither young nor old, was Mrs. George Wyllys, their host's daughterinlaw, and, as her

mourningdress bespoke her, also a widow. This lady was now on a visit to WyllysRoof with her young

children, whom, as she frequently observed, she wished to be as much as possible under the influence of their

Mr. Wyllys's game was interrupted for a moment, just as he was about to make a very good move; a servant

came to let him know that a drunken man had been found under a fence near the house. The fellow, according

to Thomas's story, could not be roused enough to give a straight account of himself, nor could he be made to

"No, sir, it's no one from hereabouts. I shouldn't wonder if he was a sailor, by the looks of his trowsers and

What could be done with him? was the question. The ladies did not seem to like the idea of having a drunken

"I dare say it is the same person I heard asking the way to WyllysRoof this morning, when we stopped at the

turnpikegate," observed Mrs. Stanley. "He looked at the time as if he had been drinking."

Elinor suggested that possibly it might be some old sailor, who fancied he had a claim upon Mr. Wyllys's

Harry volunteered to go out and take a look at him, and the party in the drawingroom awaited the result of

this reconnoitring {sic}. At the end of five minutes Hazlehurst returned with his report.

"As far as I can judge by the help of moonlight and a lantern, it is no very prepossessing personage. He swore

at me roundly for disturbing him, and I take it the fellow is really a sailor. I asked him what he wanted at

WyllysRoof, but we could not make anything out of him. To keep him from mischief, we locked him up in

one of the outhouses. It is to be hoped in the morning he will be sober enough to tell his errand."

The matter thus settled, nothing farther was thought of it at the time, and in another moment the game of

chess was won, and the flower secured in a becoming position. Mrs. Stanley had been watching Elinor's

"You are an expert hairdresser; the flowers are much prettier as you have arranged them," said the lady to

"Is it not a great improvement? They looked heavy as Jane had arranged them beforeI have taken out more

Mrs. George Wyllys looked up from the newspaper she was reading, and suggested a change.

"Do you really think so, Aunt Harriet? I flattered myself I had been very successful: it strikes me that it looks

"What is it that looks so well, ladies?" said Mr. Wyllys, rising from the chesstable and drawing near the

young people. "The flower? Yes, the flower and the face are both very pretty, my dear. What is it? a

"No indeed, grandpapa," answered Elinor, "it is a clematisthis is a honeysuckle, a monthly honeysuckle,

which Jane had twisted with it; but to my fancy the clematis is prettier alone, especially as it is so

"Why don't you put the honeysuckle in your own hair, Nelly? it is a very pretty flower. Being queen of the

"Oh, I never wear flowers, grandpapa; I cannot make them look well in my hair. This bouquet must proclaim

"Is it not rather large?" said Harry. "Why, Elinor, you have smothered my humble offering in a whole

"Not quite as bad as that," said Elinor, smiling"I only put with yours, a few Aunt Agnes and Miss Patsey

gave melook at Jane's if you wish to see a bouquet of a reasonably fashionable size."

"Bouquets are worn very large this summer," said Jane Graham, in a languid tone, resting her beautiful eyes

"And, pray," said Harry, taking a rose from a vase near him, "if a friend were to offer a flower for your belt,

"Thank you," she said, taking the rose Harry offered; and while securing it in her sash, she felt that she

"Well, Agnes, it is high time your friends came, unless they expect a rout," said Mr. Wyllys, stepping towards

"Your new neighbours, sir, the Taylors; your old friends, the Hubbards, Van Hornes, Bernards"

"I hope you will like the Taylors, Agnes; but I don't know much about them. I am glad you thought of asking

"As there is a young lady in the family, and a son just grown up, I thought they might like to dance," replied

Miss Agnes. She then turned to Mrs. Stanley, and asked that lady, who lived in New York, if she knew

"I never heard of them," replied Mrs. Stanley. "But they may be very important people, and make a great deal

of noise, for all that; as I only see my old friends, and live so quietly myself, I don't even know the names of

"I never suspected our new neighbours of being fashionable," replied Mr. Wyllys; "but I hope they will turn

out pleasant, sensible people, for your sake, ladies; and, then, if Taylor is a chessplayer, that will leave

"Here comes somebody, at last!" exclaimed Mrs. George Wyllys, hearing a carriage. "The Van Hornes, I

"I beg your pardon," said Hazlehurst, who was standing near the window, "that is the Taylor equipage; why

The party in the carriage, consisting of father and mother, son and daughter, soon alighted, and appeared in

the drawingroom. They were introduced by Mr. Wyllys, and received politely by his daughter and her niece.

"I am gratified, sir," said the tall and thin Mr. Taylor, with a pompous tone, "in having so early an

"We shall hope to see your family often, Mr. Taylor," replied his host. "You must not forget that we are near

neighbours; and we country folk think a great deal of neighbourhood, I assure you."

"Yes; of course the restraints of society must be much greater in a city, than in a more sparsely settled

"I hope your new purchase suits you on farther examination. The farm is certainly a very good one; but the

"It does, sir; I calculate to build, however, next year. The present dwelling is much too small."

"The house might suit us, I think," observed Mrs. Taylor, who, with Miss Agnes, had taken a seat, while the

young people were standing, chatting, near them. "If husband would put up a backbuilding, we should have

Miss Wyllys remarked, that even a small addition, often increased very much the convenience of a house.

"Certainly, madam; but I apprehend, if I had added wings and a backbuilding to the premises, as I first

intended, Mrs. Taylor would still have found the house not sufficiently spacious. Now our young ladies and

"Well," added his wife, "I expect to see a good deal of tea and dinner company, next summer, with the house

"The young people will be much obliged to you for your kind intentions, Mrs. Taylor; ours is not a very gay

"I don't know, Agnes," said her father; "if you include Longbridge in the neighbourhood, I think we may call

"True, sir," said Miss Agnes; "but as we seldom go there ourselves in the evening, it had not struck me in that

light. But very possibly, Mrs. Taylor and her young ladies may be more enterprising than Elinor and myself."

"Four miles, madam," interposed Mr. Taylor, "with a good vehicle and good horses, is no great distance.

Longbridge seems to be in a very flourishing condition, sir;" turning to Mr. Wyllys.

"Yes, the place is looking up; they are very busy just now. They are building a good deal, this summer."

"I observed several tasty mansions, in what may be called the suburbs; in particular a brick edifice, being

"The brick house near the bridge? Yes, it will be the largest about here. Hubbard is building it more to please

"It promises a great display of tasteI observe he has reserved half his lot, in front of the mansion, for a

"HemYes, there will be just half an acre in it. Does Hubbard call it a park?" asked Mr. Wyllys, with an

"I applied the term myself," replied the knowing Mr. Taylor. "I was altogether much pleased with the

appearance of your village, sir. It has a lively business for such a small placethings really look quite

citified there. If I had seen Mr. Hubbard's mansion, before concluding my bargain for my present location, I

"I am very glad you did not, husband. I was brought up on a farm, Miss Wyllys, and I am very happy that we

have got in the open country. Besides, Mr. Hubbard's house will be too large for comfort."

"Ha, ha!" faintly laughed Mr. Taylor; "you seem to like room out of doors better than within, Mrs. Taylor."

At this moment two persons walked quietly into the room, and were received very kindly by Miss Wyllys and

Elinor. One was a woman of about forty, plainly, but neatly dressed, with a pleasing face, remarkable for a

simple expression of common sense and goodness. Her manners corresponded perfectly with her appearance;

they were quiet and pleasant. The lad who accompanied her was a boy of sixteen, small, and slightly made,

with good features, and an uncommonly spirited and intelligent countenance. They might very naturally have

"Well, Charlie, my lad," said Mr. Wyllys, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder, "I hear the important matter

"Yes, sir; my friends have all but consented; even sister Patsey is coming round. It will be all settled next

"Not yet, if you please, Mr. Hazlehurst," said Miss Patsey Hubbard, smiling goodnaturedly. "It is only a

conditional consent, Charles, you must remember." Then turning to Mr. Wyllys, she added"All our friends

seem to agree with you, sir, and Miss Wyllys: my uncles think Charles ought to show what he has done to

some experienced painters, and have their opinions. We feel very anxious on the subject."

"I fear, Charles, that half the fault of your obstinacy is thrown upon my shoulders," said Elinor. "Those Lives

of the Painters were an unfortunate present; they seem quite to have turned your head; I am afraid Miss

{"Lives of the Painters" = probably Giorgio Vasari (Italian writer, 15111574), "Lives of the Most Excellent

Architects, Painters and Sculptors" (1550, rev. 1568), a famous and often reprinted series of biographies of

"I can't thank you enough for them, Miss Elinoryou don't know what pleasure I have had with them."

The arrival of guests again called the ladies away; they were followed by others, until the drawingroom was

halffilled with the young people of the neighbourhood, and their parents. Mrs. Stanley was soon talking

with Patsey Hubbard, whom she liked particularly. The tall and thin Mrs. Bernard, and her friend, the short

and fat Mrs. Van Horne, were regretting with Mrs. George Wyllys, that she should think the air of

Longbridge did not agree with her children; and lamenting that she should not remain at WyllysRoof until

November, according to her first intention. Charlie was deep in a volume of fine engravings. Young Taylor

was standing; in a corner, looking handsome, but awkward, and out of place. Mr. Taylor, the father, was

aiming at making himself 'affable' to everybody he knew; he liked to be called the 'affable' Mr. Taylor. The

last of the party to arrive, were Mr. and Mrs. Clapp; a couple, who were by no means equally liked by their

hosts. The husband was a Longbridge lawyer, whose views and manners were not much admired at

WyllysRoof; and he would probably never have found his way there, had he not married one of their old

friends and favourites, Kate Hubbard, a younger sister of Miss Patsey'sone who from childhood had

always been welcome among them. William Cassius Clapp had curly hair, bright black eyes, and pink

cheeksand, consequently, was generally thought an Adonis: his wife was a diminutive little creature, quite

pretty, and very amiable; a sort of mixture of Miss Patsey and Charlie, without the more striking qualities of

either. Some of her friends had thought her thrown away upon Clapp; but she seemed perfectly satisfied after

five years' experience, and evidently believed her husband superior in every way to the common run of men.

Holding it to be gross injustice towards the individuals whom we bring before the reader, to excite a prejudice

against them in the very first chapter, we shall leave all the party to speak and act for themselves; merely

Mr. Taylor had been looking, with a mixed expression of surprise and curiosity, at the person he had heard

addressed as Miss Patsey Hubbard, when the lady remarked his manner, and, smiling quietly, she bowed to

him. The bow was returned; and Mr. Taylor crossed the room, to renew an acquaintance with the woman,

who, threeandtwenty years before, had refused to become his wife. Mr. Pompey Taylor had, however,

risen too much in the world, since thenaccording to his own estimation, at leasthe had become too rich

and too prosperous, not to look back with great equanimity, on what he now considered as a very trifling

occurrence. While he was addressing Miss Patsey in his most polished manner, just marked with an

extratouch of 'affability,' for her especial benefit, he could not but wonder that her countenance should still

wear the same placid, contented air as of old; it seemed, indeed, as if this expression had only been confirmed

by time and trials. He began to think the accounts he had occasionally heard, of his old flame, must have been

incorrect; it was scarcely possible she should look so calm, and even cheerful, if her father, the Presbyterian

minister, had actually left her not only penniless, but burdened with the support of a bedridden stepmother,

and a house full of younger brothers and sisters. We leave him to satisfy his curiosity as well as he could.

When was there ever an evening too warm for young people to dance! Elinor's friends had not been in the

room half an hour, before they discovered that they were just the right number to make a quadrille agreeable.

They were enough to form a double set; and, while they were dancing, the elder part of the company were

sitting in groups near the windows, to catch the evening air, and talking over neighbourly matters, or looking

"Don't you think Elinor very graceful?" exclaimed Mrs. Van Horne to her friend, Mrs. Bernard. "I like to

watch her, while she is dancing; her movements are all so pleasing and easy, never, in the least,

exaggeratedbut, it is in her very nature; she has always been the same, from a little creature."

"Yes," replied Mrs. Bernard; "but it is a pity her face should be so ugly; for she has rather a pretty figure"

"Do you think her really ugly? She does not strike me, as so very plainthere is nothing repulsive in her

face. I have known girls called pretty, who had something far nearer coarseness in their features. It is true, I

have been accustomed to see her from the time she was four years old; and, I know, she is always thought

"Why, my dear Mrs. Van Horne, she has not one feature that can be called good; and her eyebrows are so

"Yes, it is true, she is very dark; and that is a pity; if she were only fairer, her features would appear to greater

"Just look at her now," said Mrs. Bernard, "as she is standing by her cousin, Jane Graham, who is dancing

"Certainly, she is a perfect little beauty; and that is one reason, perhaps, why Elinor strikes us as so plain; she

"Well," said Mrs. Van Horne, "if you are going to quarrel so much, with my little friend's face, we had better

"And justlyI dare say.But, I am a great admirer of beauty, you know; and I cannot keep my eyes off

"Charlie, it seems, is actually going to be a painter," observed Mrs. Bernard. "Miss Patsey tells me, he is so

bent on it, that she thinks there is no use in opposing it any longer; though, Mr. Clapp says, it is a wretched

"I hope Charles may succeed; he is a fine boy; and I shall be very sorry, for Patsey's sake, if he turns out

"They have been so fortunate, with the rest of the family, that, I hope, they will be able to keep Charlie

straight. I see Miss Patsey is talking to Mrs. Taylor; they are old friends, perhaps. Do you know anything

"Nothing but what my husband told me. He is a merchant in New York, and very rich;made his money

"He seems to have a great deal to say for himself. Have you called on Mrs. Taylor?"

"We were there yesterday. She is a quiet, plain woman. The young man is goodlooking, but very shy and

"I wish she may; it will be a good thing for Miss Patsey, and make up her dozen. You know, she will not take

"How kind and faithful Patsey has been to her stepmother! Just as she is, though, to everybody else; and she

does it all in such a quiet, consistent way. I am glad to see her here tonightshe enjoys a little society, once

"She has come in honour of her pupil's birthday, I suppose. You know, Elinor Wyllys was her first scholar.

Bythebye, do you know what I heard, the other day? They say, in Longbridge, that Mr. Hazlehurst is

engaged to one of the young ladies here; though, to which, my informant did not say."

"There is no truth in it, you may be surethey are too much like brother and sister, to think of it. Besides,

"He told my son, yesterday, that he was going to Europe, for two years, to take care of his brother, Mr.

Robert Hazlehurst, who has never recovered from the fall he had last winter; and the physicians have ordered

"I hear, Miss Wyllys," said Mrs. Bernard, "that Mr. Hazlehurst is going to Europe. He will be very much

"Yes, we shall miss him, here, very much," replied Miss Wyllys; "Harry has been with us more than ever, this

summer. But, his brother is not in a state to travel alone, nor fit to take care of his wife and children, who go

with him; and, although the plan is a sudden one, and interferes with Harry's lawstudies, yet his friends all

The ladies agreed that it was a very good arrangement, and some inquiries were made as to Mr. Robert

Hazlehurst's health; and a discussion of bruises and falls, nerves and dyspepsia, followed.

"Well, Miss Jane," cried Mrs. Bernard, as several young people drew near, "I hear that your sister, Mrs.

Robert Hazlehurst, is going to Europe; if I were you, I would not be left behind."

"I should like to go very well," said the beauty, in a languid tone; "but, I shall be at school, in New York, next

"Oh, that is a pity! I am sure, you could learn all you want to know, much better, in Paris. Don't you think she

"Miss Jane would be such a charming addition to your party.Two young people together, you would enjoy

Young Hazlehurst made a civil bow to the lady; but he looked as if he had an opinion of his own on the

subject, for comical expression crossed his face at the moment. Jane had turned in another direction, and was

"Well, I positively think I must go there, too, for my last winter. Mrs. G's school is all the fashion,

now. All the young ladies she turns out, are very lively. Miss Hubbard, the great belle, was there, you know,

before she came out. Don't you think it would be an excellent plan, Mr. Hazlehurst, for your cousin and me to

"Thank you. I have never been to school, in my life; and it is rather late, to begin now."

"Never been to school! What dull times you must have had at home! You don't know what fine fun we have,

at school; it is next to going into company. I wouldn't stay at home, for the world. Why didn't you go?"

"Well, I really don't know why. Perhaps, I should have wished to go, if I had thought it as pleasant as you

"And pray, if I may ask, what made it so very pleasant?" asked Harry Hazlehurst. "I should like to be initiated

into the delights of a young ladies' boardingschool. Of course, they must be very different from the rude

"I shall be most happy to listen all the evening. But, let me find you a chair, before you commence; you must

"Me? Oh, no; I never sit down, at a party; I always stand. You lose half the fun, by sitting down." And,

having secured Harry's attention, the halffledged belle turned to another youth, within hailing distance.

"Now, what do you think Mr. Hazlehurst has given me to do, for the next hour, Mr. Van Horne?"

"I am sure, I don't know. Is it something very difficult? Listening to his pretty speeches, perhaps," said the

"Oh dear, no! I don't believe Mr. Hazlehurst can make a tender speech; I don't believe he has got any heart,"

"And, pray, what makes you think so, Miss Taylor? Do you judge from my savage expression?"

"Well, perhaps, you have one;" said the young lady, looking up bewitchingly. "I suspect, though, you take

"But this is not fair; you are abusing me, instead of giving us the delights of your school, as you promised."

"Oh, I had forgotten that. But, I should think, you might guess what fun we havea set of wild girls

"Well, in the first place, we make a point of getting up an excitement, at least once a week."

"Like our unruly spirits at college, you break the windows, and roll cannonballs, I suppose."

"How you talk! No, indeed. Our last excitement was about the coat of our Professor of Mathematics. It was

such a quizzical cut, we told Mrs. A., it was morally impossible for us to attend to the lesson, and study the

"It was unpardonable, in a professor of mathematics, to wear a coat that was not cut according to rule."

"Now wasn't it? Well, you may be sure, we can always pitch upon something for an excitement, whenever

we're in the humour for it. And then, we have secrets to tell about our beauxand we quiz the new

scholarsand we eat candyand we torment Mrs. A; but, I shan't tell you any more, now; for I must

go out on the piazza, and have a walkit looks so sweet, out there. You shall have the rest of the story, if

Mr. Taylor, who had been moving about the room, making himself popular by a very bland smile, and, what

he considered very courtly manners, still had time to keep one eye upon his son, who after an awkward

fashion, seemed devoting himself to one or two of the ladies, and the other, upon his daughter. "Adeline will

"Liny seems to enjoy herself," was the observation of her mother, who had been sitting quietly at her

While some of the young people were flirting, others dancing, Mr. Taylor and Mr. Clapp, whose

acquaintance had commenced on board a steamboat that very morning, were walking together up and down

the hall, which they had pretty much to themselves. They touched on business, which was pronounced very

active; and on politics, which were declared to be particularly dull, just then: Mr. Clapp, indeed, thought the

people much too quietshamefully blind to their own interests, which always demanded what he called a

state of healthful excitementmeaning an unreasonable excitement upon any subject whatever. There can be

no doubt that Mr. Clapp honestly believed such a state of agitation far more conducive than quiet to his own

interest; for he was quite a fluent speaker, and very ambitious of a seat in the State Assembly. He belonged to

that school of republicanism, which so completely identifies the individual with the mass, that it cannot

conceive of any independent opinions, tastes, or principles; and, very possibly, he persuaded himself the good

of the nation, as well as his personal advantage, required a fresh brand to be thrown upon the Longbridge

councilfire. Having exchanged opinions with Mr. Clapp upon politics and the market, Mr. Taylor proceeded

to make some observations and inquiries about the company; he evidently felt some curiosity regarding his

new neighbours, while his companion seemed well disposed to give him all the information he desired.

Mr. Clapp named the number of thousands usually given to their host; the amount was much lower than Mr.

Taylor had supposed. He had already discovered that Mr. Wyllys was highly respected by the Longbridge

community in general, and he had taken it for granted that he must be the richest man in the neighbourhood;

but he now found that this was far from being the case. Mr. Wyllys, though in easy circumstances, could not

"THERE is a good fortune for you," said Mr. Clapp; "the lady on the sofa; her property does not lie here,

though. The real estate is mostly in Carolina and Philadelphia. Did you see the young gentleman who has just

gone out on the piazza with your daughterMr. Hazlehurst? At the demise of the widow, it all goes to him;

but in the mean time he has only two thousand a yearit will be full twenty, altogether, if well managed,"

said Mr. Clapp, running his fingers through the black locks which his wife thought so handsome.

"Mrs. Stanley is the old lady's name, is it not? The young gentleman is her grandson, I conclude."

"Not at all; only a nephew by marriage," replied the lawyer, pulling up his collar. "He may feel much obliged

to Mr. Stanley for feathering his nest so well. But Hazlehurst is a very good fellow; I always liked him from

"The testator had no children of his own to inherit, I suppose," remarked Mr. Taylor.

"No sir; the only child of the first wife died just before his fatherthe lady in the other room had no family.

Mr. Stanley had not a single near relation in the world; he bequeathed fifty thousand dollars to an Orphan

Asylum, and left his widow a lifeestate in onehalf the remainder; which, at her death, goes in a lump, real

estate and personals, to young Hazlehurst, who is the son of an old friend, and a nephew by marriage."

"Some four hundred thousand dollars, I think you said; that would make a fine capital for a young man to

"But show me the young man who, with four hundred thousand to begin with, will not spend it instead of

making more! No, sir; give me a man with small means and a sharp wit for his stock in trade, rather than a

hundred thousand down; ten to one the first winds up the better man by a good round sum. I should not

wonder at all to find myself a richer man than Harry Hazlehurst by the time I am fifty."

"If he wanted to, he could not touch the money now; it is all in the widow's hands until he is

fiveandtwenty, excepting the allowance of two thousand a year which she gives him, now he is of age."

After a little more conversation of the same naturein which the Van Hornes and the Bernards came in for

their share of the appraisal, Mr. Clapp concluded by the offer of an introduction.

"Shall I introduce Mrs. Stanley to you? I am very well acquainted. I was raised in the same part of the

Mr. Taylor had not the least objection to make the acquaintance of any human being enjoying an estate of

four hundred thousand dollars. He assented, and following Mr. Clapp into the drawingroom, the

introduction took place without farther preface. Mrs. Stanley had been conversing with Miss Patsey and

Elinor; she was rather taken by surprise when Mr. Clapp, advancing before her, said, with a flourish, "Mr.

Taylor, Mrs. Stanley." Both the gentlemen were received by her with as much quiet coolness as was

consistent with civility to her friend's guests. She had lately been often annoyed by Mr. Clapp's officious

attentions, and was at a loss to account for them, until she remembered he might be wishing to obtain a share

Having succeeded in bringing about the introduction, Mr. Clapp turned to Elinor.

There was as yet no individual in the little world known to Elinor, more trying to her temper than the husband

of her friend, Kate Hubbard. There was a smirking impertinence in Mr. Clapp's manner, of which it seemed

impossible for him to divest himself, for it was often most conspicuous when he wished to make himself

most agreeable; and no wonder this was the case, for it was a quality natural to him. The simple feeling of

genuine respect and deference, so grateful to the heart where sincerely felt, was one he had never had the

happiness to know. On the present occasion Elinor was not a little provoked with him, and something of the

feeling might have been traced in her expression. We have heard of brilliant black eyes, that never appeared

more beautiful than when flashing with passion. Those of our friend Elinor were small and grey; indignation,

"Scarcely worth remembering, I fancy," she replied; and then made some observation about Mrs. Hubbard, to

turn the conversation. The raillery and pleasantry of a man with no more tact, or true delicacy, than William

"Oh, no, sirI have six at home, besides the two here. Thomas and Adeline are my eldest; the rest are hardly

"You must bring Mr. Pompey, too, next time. Your eldest son tells me he has just left Yale."

"He graduated last month. I want him to stay at home now until winter, and then go into business. But his

father has taken a nation of having him go to Europe for six months. Thomas does not care so much about it;

but husband has a great opinion of a European journeyhe talks some of going himself. Some young men

go a whaling to see the world; but Mr. Taylor thinks Thomas had better have a chance to go to Paris."

"He will probably find Paris the pleasantest trip of the two," said Mr. Wyllys, smiling. "Young Hazlehurst is

going abroad, too; he sails next week, with his brother. What is the name of Harry's packet, Nelly?" asked her

Elinor named the vessel; and, from Mrs. Taylor's answer, it appeared, the young men were to sail in the same

"I am glad to hear that your grandson is going to France, sir; it will be more sociable, for Thomas to have

"I beg your pardon; but, I understood, that the pretty young lady, with the white flower in her hair, and the

"Oh, no; Miss Graham is my greatniece; and, as for Harry, if I remember right, he is no relation at all;

though, we call him cousin. I have a house full of little grandchildren, here, just now, from Baltimore; but

they are too young to be out of the nursery, at this hour. Does Miss Taylor sing?"

"No, sir; Adeline performs on the piano; but she has not any voice for music; which, I am very sorry for, as I

"Perhaps, then, you would like to hear my granddaughter; she sings me a song every evening, after tea,"

said Mr. Wyllys, who, indeed, seemed to think something was wanting to an evening, in his own house,

unless Elinor gave him a little music, of which he was passionately fond; though, like most American

gentlemen, of his age, he had no knowledge of the art, and no other guide than a good ear, and good natural

taste. Elinor's voice was a full, sweet contralto, which had been cultivated under the best masters in

Philadelphia; and, as she never attempted what she could not perform with ease and grace, her music always

gave pleasure. One or two of the other ladies followed her, at the pianoMary Van Horne, and a friend who

had come with her; but their performance was very indifferent. It was rarely that one heard anything

approaching to really good amateur music, in this country, fifteen years ago, at the date of Elinor's

A light supper, and a Virginia reel, concluded the evening; when the party broke up.

"I hope you are jealous, Elinor," said Harry Hazlehurst, as he returned into the house, after having attended

"Of the heart and affections of your humble servant, to be sure.You must have observed the snare that

ELINOR had been in her room for some minutes, and was standing in thought, before an open window, when

she turned toward a little table near her, and, opening a Bible, drew from it a letter. She raised it to her lips,

and, moving toward a light unfolded the sheet. Tears soon blinded her sight; she was much agitated; then,

becoming calmer, she continued to read. It was a letter of some length, and every line seemed deeply

interesting to the reader. Once she paused, as if struck by some new thought, and then, again, she read with

some anxiety. She had just finished the last words, when her door opened, and Miss Agnes entered the room.

"Be calm, my dear child," said her aunt; "it is indeed a precious letter, and one which we both value highly;

your feelings are only natural, dearest; but do not indulge them to excess." Miss Wyllys, by her gentle,

caressing manner, succeeded in calming Elinor, when, urging her not to sit up later, she left her niece for the

When Miss Agnes was gone, Elinor fell on her knees, with the letter still in her hand. She remained some

time, apparently in prayer, and then rising calmly, she folded the sheet, and laid it on the Bible; and, before

her head touched her pillow, the letter was again removed, and placed beneath it.

We have not the slightest wish to beguile the reader into believing that Elinor had a mysterious lover, or a

clandestine correspondence; and we shall at once mention, that this letter was one written years previously,

by the mother she had lost; and her good aunt, according to the direction, had placed it in her niece's hands,

When Mr. Wyllys went down to breakfast, the next morning, he inquired if their drunken visiter {sicthe

Cooper family's usual spelling of the word}, of the previous night, had shown himself again.

"I have just been out, sir, to look after him," said Harry, "and the fellow does not seem to have liked his

night's lodgings. He broke jail, and was off before any of the men were up this morning; they found the door

open, and the staple offhe must have kicked his way out; which could easily he done, as the lock was old."

Elinor suggested that it was, perhaps, some one who was ashamed of the situation in which he had been

"More probably he was too much accustomed to a lockup house, to find it pleasant. But if he really had any

business here, we shall hear of him again, no doubt," said Mr. Wyllys. The affair thus disposed of, the

Mr. Wyllys, Elinor's grandfather, was decidedly a clever man. He had held a high position, in his profession,

until he withdrew from it, and had, at one time, honourably distinguished himself as a politician. He was well

educated, and well read; his library, at WyllysRoof, was, indeed, one of the best in the country. Moreover,

Mr. Wyllys was a philosopher, a member of the Philosophical Society of Philadelphia; and the papers he

read, before that honourable association, were generally much admired by his audience. It is even probable

that Mr. Wyllys believed himself endowed with a good stock of observation and experience in human nature;

but, in spite of all these advantages, we cannot help thinking that, although wellversed in natural

philosophy, this excellent gentleman proved himself quite ignorant of boy and girl nature. Even his daughter,

Miss Agnes, feared her father had been unwise and imprudent on an occasion which she considered of great

A great deal might be said in favour of Harry Hazlehurst. Few young men, of his age, were more promising

in character and abilities. He was clever, and goodtempered; and, with all the temptations of an easy fortune

within his reach, he had always shown himself firm in principles. There was one trait in his character,

however, which had already more than once brought him into boyish scrapes, and which threatened, if not

corrected, to be injurious to his career through life. He was naturally highspirited; and, having been

indulged by his mother, and seldom controlled by his male guardian, a brother some ten years older than

himself, Harry was rather disposed to be selfwilled, and cherished some false notions regarding

independence of character. His friends hoped, however, that as he grew older, he would become wiser.

Something of this feeling had been mixed up with the motives which had lately led him to take a decided step

>From a boy, Harry had been more or less the companion and playfellow of Elinor Wyllys and Jane

Graham, whom he looked upon as cousins, owing to a near family connexion. He had always felt very

differently, however, towards the two girls. Jane, a little beauty from her birth, had been an indolent and

peevish child, often annoying Harry by selfish interference with their plans and amusements. Elinor, on the

contrary, had always been a favourite playmate. She was an intelligent, generous child, of an uncommonly

fine temper and happy disposition. As for her plain face, the boy seldom remembered it. They were both gay,

clever children, who suited each other remarkably well, in all their little ways and fancies. Now, within the

last year, it had struck Harry that his brother Robert and his sisterinlaw, Mrs. Hazlehurst, were very

desirous of making a match between Jane Graham and himself. He had overheard some trifling remark on the

subject, and had suffered an afternoon's very stupid teasing and joking, about Jane, from a talkative old

bachelor relation. This was quite sufficient to rouse the spirit of independence, in a youth of his years and

disposition. When, at length, he heard a proposition that Jane should accompany them abroad, he went so far

as to look upon it as something very like manoeuvring {sic}. HE was not a man to be led by others, in the

choice of a wife. Jane might be a beautyno doubt she wasbut he had no such extravagant admiration for

mere beauty. There was Elinor, for instance; she was a very different girl, though without any beauty; she

was just the kind of person he liked. She was so warmhearted and generous in her feelingswithout a bit of

nonsense; she was so clevercould catch a thought in a moment, and always understood and enjoyed a good

thing. Then her manners, too, were charming, so simple and natural; while Jane had no manners at all. Then,

everybody said she was remarkably graceful, in a perfectly natural way;how well she rode! Jane was even

afraid to mount. And how pleasantly Elinor sangand he was so fond of music. Jane would do very well to

sit and look at all day long; but, for walking, talking, riding, singingay, for thinking and feeling, Elinor

would make precisely such a companion as a man of sense would wish for. By dint of dwelling on Elinor's

good qualities, and on what he fancied the plans of his brother and sisterinlaw, he came to the conclusion

that the only thing to be done, under the circumstances, by a man of any characterby a man who had an

opinion of his own, was to go immediately to Mr. Wyllys, and request his permission to address Elinor.

Harry was a great favourite with his unclefrom a child the young man had always given this title to Mr.

Wyllysand he had more than once expressed to his daughter, a wish that Hazlehurst and Elinor might,

some years thence, take a fancy for each other. In the mean time he seemed to look upon them as children,

and left matters to take care of themselves. Harry's proposal was, therefore, quite unexpected at the moment,

and took him by surprise; he seemed to think Hazlehurst decidedly too young, at presenthe had not yet

acquired his profession. This little difficulty in the opening of the affair, merely served to rouse Harry's

eloquence; and as his youth was really the only objection against him, he succeeded, before long, in obtaining

Mr. Wyllys's cheerful consent to his endeavouring, during the next two months, to interest Elinor in his

Miss Agnes, when informed of what had passed, was quite startled; she thought both parties too young to

take so decided a step. But her father had given his formal consent, and she could not seriously oppose it;

especially when she remembered that she, also, had more than once indulged the idea that some five or six

No one in the family was more surprised at Harry's advances than Elinor herself. They had been so much

together, ever since she could remember, and had always been such good friends, in an open,

brotherandsisterly way, that even in the last year or two, when indistinct ideas of love and matrimony had

occasionally, like distant events, cast their shadows before, Harry had never once presented himself to her

fancy in the light of a suitor. It required a day or two for her to comprehend the full meaning of Harry's

proceedings; she could say neither yes, nor no. This hesitation, very much increased Hazlehurst's

perseverance; but her aunt, who looked on anxiously, had stipulated that nothing decided should be required

In the mean time, a day or two had been sufficient for Mr. Wyllys to become not only reconciled to the idea,

but so well pleased with the appearance of things, that he amused himself with looking on at Harry in his new

character of a lover; and generally once a day, had some little joke at the expense of Elinor's embarrassment.

But now, the two months had passed; Harry was to sail the next week for Franceand Elinor, the morning

It was no longer very difficult to foresee that this answer would be favourable. In fact, Harry, who was

thoroughly gentlemanly by nature and habit, had made his attentions just what they ought to have been under

the circumstances; and, with the full approbation of her own friends, and all Harry's good qualities appearing

in their best light, the two months had proved sufficient to direct Elinor's childish affection for him into

another and a deeper channel. The letter she had received on the night of her birthday, caused a moment's

indecision when, the next morning, after breakfast, as Mrs. Stanley and Mrs. George Wyllys left the room,

But she scarcely knew in what shape to express the thought that arose in her mind, and the feeling merely

gave an additional touch of embarrassment to her manner, which was only looked upon as quite natural at the

"I shall think myself very badly treated, Elinor," said Harry, observing her hesitation, "if you turn me off like

a common acquaintance, after we have been the best friends in the world for nobody knows how long."

"Well, Nelly," said her grandfather, "what is it, my child? Shall we tell Harry to go to Paris and cultivate his

"Oh, no;" said Elinor, smiling as she held out her hand to Hazlehurst, though without looking up: "pray, don't

The affair was settled. The young people parted with the understanding that when Hazlehurst returned from

Europe, and had acquired his profession, they were to be married; and Harry went to Philadelphia, to join his

Jane, too, left Elinor a few days later; and Miss Wyllys, who had charge of heras Mr. and Mrs. Graham

lived in Charlestonplaced her at one of the fashionable boarding schools of New York. Miss Adeline

Taylor had, in the mean time, informed her parents that she had changed her mind as to the school which was

to have the honour of completing her education: she should NOT return to Mrs. A's, but go to Mrs.

G's, which was a more fashionable establishment. Not that she had anything to complain of at Mrs.

A's; but she thought the young ladies at Mrs. G's dressed more elegantly, and besides, she felt

the impossibility of remaining separated from Jane Graham, her new bosom friend. These two young ladies

had met twice previously to the evening they had passed together at WyllysRoof; Adeline had upon one

occasion been in the same boat with Jane, going and coming, between New York and Longbridge, and she

had already done all in her power towards getting up a desperate intimacy. Her mother, as a matter of course,

did not interfere with the young lady's preference for Mrs. G's schoolwhy should she? It was

Adeline's affair; she belonged to the submissive class of American parents, who think it an act of cruelty to

influence or control their children, even long before they have arrived at years of discretion. As for Mr.

Taylor, he had discovered that the daughters of several fashionable families were at Mrs. G's, and was

perfectly satisfied with the change; all he had to do was, to make out the cheques in one name instead of

another. Adeline managed the whole affair herself; and having at last been to a young party, for which she

had been waiting, and having satisfied some lingering scruples as to the colours of the silk dresses which

composed the winter uniform of the school, and which she at first thought frightfully unbecoming to her

particular style of beauty, Miss Taylor one morning presented herself at Mrs. G's door, and was

regularly admitted as one of the young band in fashionable training under that lady's roof. Jane, it is true, did

not show quite as much rapture at the meeting as Adeline could have wished; but, then, Miss Taylor had

already discovered that this last bosomfriend was of a calmer disposition than the dozen who had preceded

Harry had not been a day in Philadelphia, before he announced to his brother, his engagement with Elinor; for

"I have a piece of news for you, Robert," he said, as he entered the drawingroom before dinner, and found

"May I not have my share of it?" asked Mrs. Hazlehurst, whom Harry had not observed.

"Certainly; it is a piece of good fortune to your humble servant, in which I hope you will both be interested."

"Why, really, Harry," said his sisterinlaw, "there is a touch of importance, with a dash of

selfcomplacency and mystery in your expression, that look a little loverlike. Have you come to announce

that you are determined to offer yourself to some belle or other before we sail?"

"The deed is already done," said Harry, colouring a little; as much, perhaps, from a mischievous satisfaction

"No!" said his brother, turning towards him with some anxiety. "Offered yourselfand accepted, then; or, of

"Pray, tell us, Harry, who is to be our new sister," said Mrs. Hazlehurst, kindly, and with some interest.

"I never should guess," said Mrs. Hazlehurst. "I had no idea you were attached to any onehad you,

"Not I! It must be somebody at Longbridgehe has been there more than half his time lately. Come, tell us,

Harry, like a man; who is it?" asked Robert Hazlehurst, naturally feeling interested in his younger brother's

"Who can it be?And actually engaged?" added Mrs. Hazlehurst, who saw that Harry would not explain

"Engaged, very decidedly, and positively, I am happy to say. Is there anything so very wonderful in my

having declared an attachment to Elinor; I am sure I have liked her better than any one else all my life."

"Engaged to Elinor!" exclaimed Robert Hazlehurst, much relieved. "I am delighted to hear it. It is a wiser step

"Engaged to Elinor! I wish you joy with all my heart," repeated his sisterinlaw. "It had not occurred to me

to think of any one so near and dear to us already; you could not have done better, Harry," she added, with a

To tell the truth, Hazlehurst was not a little surprised, and rather mortified by this decided

approbationsince it proved he had been unjust, and that he had deceived himself as to what he had

supposed the wishes of his brother, and the plans of his sisterinlaw. He did not, however, for an instant,

regret the step he had taken; his regard for Elinor was too sincere to allow of any other feeling than that of

satisfaction, in remembering their engagement. But it had now become a matter of indifference whether Jane

On the appointed day, the Hazlehursts sailed. They went abroad with more advantages than many others, for

they carried with them good sense, good principles, and a good education, and were well prepared to enjoy

the wide field of observation that lay before them. There was every reason to hope, from the encouraging

opinions of his physicians, that Mr. Robert Hazlehurst's health would be entirely restored by travelling; his

wife looked forward to the excursion with much pleasure, and Harry was delighted with the plan. They had

an old family friend in Paris, an excellent woman, who was in every way qualified to redeem the promises

she had given, of soon making them feel at home in France. Madame de Bessieres was the widow of a

distinguished emigre, and had passed a long exile with her husband in America. They had been for years near

neighbours of Mr. Wyllys, and this gentleman had had it in his power, at different times, to render services of

some importance to his French friends. Madame de Bessieres and her family were grateful for these acts of

kindness: she had known the young people at WyllysRoof, and felt an interest in them all; for their own

sakes, as well as from a sincere respect and regard for Mr. Wyllys and his daughter, this lady was anxious to

show the Hazlehursts every friendly attention in her power. Under these agreeable auspices, the party left

THE arrival of letters from Harry, often accompanied by something pretty or useful, as a souvenir for herself,

were the principal events of the next winter, to Elinor. Several months of the cold weather were passed, as

usual, by Mr. Wyllys and his family, in Philadelphia; and Miss Agnes thought it time that her niece should

make her appearance in society. But Elinor found less pleasure, than most girls, in the gay world. She was

seldom appreciated, in mixed company; she was too young, at that time, and too modest, for her intelligence

to be generally known or cared for; while her personal appearance exposed her to be entirely overlooked and

neglected by strangers; it had indeed occasionally been the cause of mortifications, more deeply felt by Miss

Agnes, than by Elinor herself. People talk so lightly, in what is called general society; heartless remarks are

uttered with so much careless indifference on all sides, that it was not surprising some unkind observations

should have reached her ear. It was not until the season that she had been introduced into a larger circle, that

Elinor became better aware of her disadvantages in this respect. She had been so tenderly loved and watched

over by her grandfather and aunt; she was so generally liked by those who had been hitherto her companions,

that she had not been aware of all the consequences of her position. She knew that her appearance was not

attractive, while her young friends were more or less pretty; still, she had thought but little on the subject,

until her introduction into a larger circle led her to remark the great importance which the world attaches to

mere beauty, in women, at least. But, with this reflection, came also the gratifying recollection of Harry's

regard for her; and it served indeed to increase very much her attachment to him, by giving it an additional

Harry's letters were kind and affectionate, and Elinor thought them very amusing. It was impossible that an

intelligent, welleducated young man, suddenly transported from the New, to the Old World, should not find

a great deal to say; and Harry told his adventures very agreeably. His letters to Elinor were almost as

straightforward and matteroffact, as they might have been if she had already become his wife. His

brother's health was improving; so much so, that they were talking of leaving Mrs. Hazlehurst, and her

children, in Paris, while Harry and the invalid made a six weeks' excursion to England. Madame de Bessieres

had been all kindness, and they were delighted with the society they met at her house. "Madame de Bessieres

remembers you perfectly," said Harry, in one of his letters, "and as she is sure, under Aunt Agnes' care, you

must have grown up with all the good and agreeable qualities that she loved you for when a child, she agrees

with your humble servant, in thinking him a very lucky fellow, and very prudent, in having secured you

before he left home. She is really a most excellent and charming woman, as kind as possible to Louisa. Her

American friends have every reason to be satisfied with her recollections of them, especially Mr. Wyllys and

Aunt Agnes, whom she evidently appreciates. Her nephew, young de Guivres, and I, are very good friends

already, and often take a gallop together in the Bois de Boulogne. It is a settled thing, Elinor, dear, that I am

to bring you to France, one of these days; that is to say, if you have no objections; which, of course, you will

not have. Tom Taylor is here still, and his progressive steps in civilization are quite amusing, to a lookeron;

every time I see him, I am struck with some new changesome fresh growth in elegance. I was going to say,

that he will turn out a regular dandy; but he would have to go to London for that; he will prove rather a sort of

secondrate petitmaitre a la Parisienne; which is entirely a different creature. It would do your heart good to

see Robert; he eats like a ploughman, if ploughmen ever devour poulets a la Marengo, or ortolans a la

Provencale. I wish I could give as good an account of Creighton, who arrived in the last packet; poor fellow,

he has not revived at all, and, I fear, will never be better. His wife is with him; as pretty and agreeable as

ever. I hope Bruno behaves well, and remembers that it is now his chief duty to devote himself to your

{"petitmaitre a la Parisienne" = a ridiculously pretentious dandy, Parisianstyle; "poulets a la Marengo" =

chicken Marengo, a recipe supposedly invented by Napoleon's chef after the Battle of Marengo in 1800;

"ortolans a la Provencale" = ortolans (a variety of bunting) in the style of southern France (Provence)

This was the last letter Elinor received in Philadelphia, for early in the spring the family returned to the

country. She was never happier than at WyllysRoof, and resumed with delight occupations and

amusements, which would have appeared very insipid to many elegant belles whom she left behind

hersince the mornings were to be passed without visiting or shopping, the evenings without parties or

flirtations. In a quiet country house, with no other young person in the family, there was of course, at

WyllysRoof, very little excitementthat necessary ingredient of life to many people; and yet, Elinor had

never passed a tedious day there. On the longest summer morning, or winter evening, she always found

To her, WyllysRoof was home; and that is a word of a broader and more varied meaning in the country than

in a town. The cares, the sympathies of a country home, embrace a wide circle, and bring with them pleasures

of their own. People know enough of all their neighbours, to take part in any interesting event that may befall

them; we are sorry to hear that A., the shoemaker, is going to move away; we are glad to find that B., the

butcher, has made money enough to build a new house. One has some acquaintance with everybody, from the

clergyman to the loafer; few are the faces that one does not know. Even the fourfooted animals of the

neighbourhood are not strangers: this is the Doctor's Newfoundland dog; that is some old lady's tortoiseshell

cat. One knows the horses, as well as the little urchins who ride them to water; the cows, and those who milk

them. And then, countryfolks are nature's freeholders; they enjoy a full portion of the earth, the air, the sky,

with the thousand charms an evermerciful Creator has lavished on them. Every inanimate objectthis hill,

that wood, the brook, the bridge, C.'s farmhouse, and D.'s barnto the very highway, as far as eye can

reach, all form pleasing parts of a country home. In a city, on the contrary, we live surrounded by strangers.

Home is entirely restricted to our own fireside. One knows a neighbour's card, perhaps, but not his face.

There may have been a funeral or a wedding nextdoor, and we learn it only from the morning paper. Then,

even if a fixture oneself, how is it possible for human sensibilities to cling very closely to the row of brick

houses opposite, which are predestined to be burned or pulled down in a few years? Nor can one be supposed

to look with much pleasure at the omnibus horses, or halfstarved pigs that may belong to one's street. No

doubt, that with hearts warm and true, we may have a FIRESIDE in town; but HOME with its thousand

pleasant accessoriesHOME, in its fullest meaning, belongs especially to the country.

Elinor was a country girl, born and bred. Though banished from Chesnut {sic} Street, she would have been

well satisfied with the usual occupations of a country life, varied only by quiet walks with her aunt, rides with

her grandfather, chatty meetings with a few young companions, or long visits from old friends, whose names

and faces had been familiar to her all her life. The first few weeks after her return to WyllysRoof, she had,

of course, more than usual to see and hear. Elinor had been absent from home but a few months; yet, even in

that short space, she found changes had occurred in the neighbourhoodvaried, as usualsome of a sad,

some of a pleasant nature. Miss Agnes and her niece found one place vacant among those whom they were in

the habit of seeing often; the father of a family who lived within sight of their own windows, had died

suddenly, and left a widow and children to struggle with the world: but they were neither friendless nor

repining, and submitted with humble resignation to their severe affliction, prepared to meet with faith and

hope the additional cares and toils allotted to them. One of Elinor's young friends, too, was lying on a

sickbed at Longbridgea beautiful girl of her own age wasted by consumption; but she was calm and

peaceful, though without hope this side the grave. We shall scarcely forgive ourselves for making even a

distant allusion to one portion of Elinor's pleasures and labours, although more especially connected with

home; since none could perform their religious duties with less ostentation, with more singlehearted

sinceritynone could more carefully follow the precept, to "give with simplicity," than Miss Wyllys, and the

Of course, the ladies had immediately resumed their intercourse with their old friends; and they had many

neighbourly visits to pay. Not your formal, fashionable morning calls, lasting just three minutes, when you

are so unfortunate as to find at home the individual you are paying off; no, indeed; good, honest visits of

nearly an hour's length, giving time to exchange many kindly inquiries as to the health of all the members of

the family, the condition of the garden, and promises of the crops; and even occasionally allowing Mr.

Wyllys to take a look at some addition to the livestock, in the shape of calves, colts, or pigs. Then, Mrs.

Bernard had just moved into a new house, whose comforts and conveniences must certainly be shown by

herself, and appreciated by her friends. Then, Elinor had to kiss, and make acquaintance with several tiny

pieces of humanity, in white frocks and lace capslittle creatures born during the past winter; of course, the

finest babies one could wish to see, and the delight of their parents' hearts. Then, Alida Van Horne was going

to be married; as Elinor was to be her bridesmaid, a great deal of talking and consulting took place on the

occasion, as matter of course. But, although her time was fully occupied in many different ways, no day was

too pleasant or too busy for more than one thought to be given to Harry Hazlehurst.

{"Anch' io son pittore" = "I too, am a painter!" (Italian). Antonio Allegri da Correggio (Italian painter,

THERE was one subject, in which the family at WyllysRoof felt particularly interested just then, and that

was, Charlie Hubbard's picture. This piece was to decide finally the question, whether Charlie should be an

artist, or a merchant's clerk; a question which he himself considered all important, and which caused much

The house in which the Hubbards lived was a grey, wooden cottage, of the smallest size; curious gossips had,

indeed, often wondered how it had ever been made to contain a large family; but some houses, like certain

purses, possess capabilities of expansion, quite independent of their apparent size, and connected by

mysterious sympathies with the heads and hearts of their owners. This cottage belonged to the most ancient

and primitive style of American architecture; what may be called the comfortable, common sense orderfar

superior, one might suppose to either Corinthian or Composite, for a farmhouse. The roof was low, and

unequally divided, stretching, on one side, with a long, curving slope, over the southern front; which was

scarce seven feet high: towards the road the building was a little more elevated, for a dormerwindow gave it

the dignity of a story and a half. Not only the roof, but the wallswe have classical authority for wooden

wallswere covered with rounded shingles, long since grey, and in spots, mossgrown. Twice the cottage

had escaped a more brilliant exterior; upon one occasion it had been inhabited by an ambitious family, who

talked of a coat of red paint; fortunately, they moved away, before concluding a bargain with the painter.

Again, when the Hubbards took possession of the 'old grey house,' a committee of ladies actually drove over

from Longbridge, with the intention of having it whitewashed; but, the experienced old negro engaged to

clean generally, gave it as his opinion, that the shingles were not worth the compliment. The windows were

very small; more than half the glass was of the old, blue bull'seye pattern, no longer to be found at modern

glaziers, and each heavy windowshutter had a halfmoon cut in its upper panel, to let in the daylight. When

we add, that there was a low porch before the door, with a sweetbriar on one side, and a snowball on the

other, the reader will have a correct idea of the house inhabited by our friends, the Hubbards.

{"Corinthian or Composite" = two of the classical orders of architecture, based on the style of column used.

The "Composite order," however, was something of a Cooper family joke, first used by James Fenimore

Cooper in "The Pioneers" (1823) to describe a pretentious building of no particular style at all. The Coopers,

father and daughter, were contemptuous of buildings that pretended to be Greek temples}

The cottage stood within a little dooryard, near the gate which opened on the lawn of WyllysRoof; and,

immediately opposite the place recently purchased by Mr. Taylor. Here the family had lived for the last

twelve years; and, from that time, Miss Patsey had been obliged to struggle against poverty, with a large

family of younger brothers and sisters, dependent, in a great measure, upon her prudence and exertions.

Mr. Hubbard, the father, a respectable Presbyterian minister, had been, for half his life, in charge of a

congregation in Connecticut, where, bythebye, Mr. Pompey Taylor, at that time a poor clerk, had been an

unsuccessful suitor for Patsey's hand. After a while, the family had removed to Longbridge, where they had

lived very comfortably and usefully, until, at length, the minister died, leaving his widow and seven children

entirely unprovided for. Happily, they possessed warm friends and kind relatives. The old grey house, with a

garden and a little meadow adjoining, was purchased for his brother's family by Mr. Joseph Hubbard, known

to the young people as Uncle Josie: he was a merchant, in easy circumstances, and cheerfully gave the

thousand dollars required. The cottage was furnished by the minister's congregation. Many useful presents

were made, and many small debts forgiven by kind neighbours. With this humble outfit the family

commenced their new career. Mrs. Hubbard, the second wife, and mother of the three younger children, had

lost the use of one hand, by an attack of paralysis. She had always been a woman of very feeble character;

and although treated with unvarying kindness and respect by her stepchildren, could do little towards the

government or assistance of the family. It was Patsey who toiled, and managed, and thought for them all.

With the aid of two younger sisters, mere children, at first, and an old black woman, who came once a week

to wash, all the work was done by herself, including baking, ironing, cooking, cleaning, and yet Patsey found

time to give up four hours a day to teaching a class of some dozen children, belonging to several

neighbouring families. This school furnished the only money that passed through her hands, and contributed

the only regular means of support to the family. They received, however, much kind assistance, in many

different ways; indeed, otherwise, it would have been scarcely possible to keep a fireside of their own. There

had been, in all, nine children; but the eldest son, a missionary, died before his father; the second had already

gone to Kentucky, to seek his fortunes as a physician; he had married young, and, with children of his own to

support, it seemed but little he could do for his stepmother; he sent for a younger brother, however,

engaging to provide for him entirely. Another son was educated by his rich Longbridge relative, kind Uncle

Josie; another uncle, a poor old bachelor, known to the neighbourhood as Uncle Dozie, from a constant habit

of napping, did his utmost, in paying the schoolbills of his niece Catherine. In the course of a few years,

Uncle Josie's protege became an assistant in the school where he had been educated; Kate Hubbard, Uncle

Dozie's favourite, married a quickwitted, but poor, young lawyer, already introduced to the reader, by the

Still, there remained in the family two younger daughters, and Charlie, besides Miss Patsey and Mrs.

Hubbard. By the exertions and guidance of Patsey, the assistance of friends, and their own good conduct, the

young people, in due time, were all growing up, endowed with good principles, good educations, and with

respectable prospects opening before them. At the period of our narrative, the third daughter hoped shortly to

become an undergoverness in the school where she had been educated; and Mary, the youngest of the

family, had such a decided taste for music, that it was thought she would have no difficulty in supporting

herself, by giving lessons, in the course of two or three years. Of all the family, Charlie was the one that

caused his friends the most anxiety. He was a fine, spirited, intelligent boy; and Uncle Josie had promised to

procure a situation for him, with his soninlaw, a commissionmerchant and auctioneer, in New York. This

plan was very pleasing to Mrs. Hubbard and Miss Patsey; but, unfortunately, Charlie seemed to have no taste

for making money, and a fondness for pictures and pencils, that amounted almost to a passion. Here was an

unexpected obstacle; Charlie was the pet and spoiled child of the family. All the rest of the young people had

been quite satisfied with the different means of support that had offered for each; and they had followed their

respective careers with so much quiet good sense, that Charlie's remonstrances against the countinghouse,

and his strong fancy for an artist's life, was something quite new, and which Miss Patsey scarcely knew how

to answer. There was nothing in the least poetical or romantic about Patsey Hubbard, who was all honest

kindness and straightforward common sense. She had no feeling whatever for the fine arts; never read a

work of imagination; scarcely knew one tune from another; and had never looked with pleasure at any

picture, but one, a portrait of her own respected father, which still occupied the place of honour in their little

parlour, nearly covering one side of the wall. This painting, to speak frankly, was anything but a valuable

work of art, or a good likeness of the worthy minister. The face was flat and unmeaning, entirely devoid of

expression or relief; the body was stiff and hard, like sheetiron, having, also, much the color of that

material, so far as it was covered by the black ministerial coat. One arm was stretched across a table,

conspicuous from a carrotcoloured cloth, and the hand was extended over a pile of folios; but it looked quite

unequal to the task of opening them. The other arm was disposed of in some manner satisfactory to the artist,

no doubt, but by no means easy for the spectator to discover, since the brickcoloured drapery which formed

the background to the whole, certainly encroached on the side where nature had placed it. Such as it was,

however, Miss Patsey admired this painting more than any she had ever seen, and its gilt frame was always

carefully covered with green gauze, no longer necessary to preserve the gilding, but rather to conceal its

blackened lustre; but Charlie's sister belonged to that class of amateurs who consider the frame as an integral

part of the work of art. It was, perhaps, the most promising fact regarding any future hopes of young

Hubbard's, as an artist, that this same portrait was far from satisfying his taste, uncultivated as it was. Charlie

was, for a long time, so much ashamed of his passion for drawing, that he carefully concealed the little bits of

paper on which he made his sketches, as well as the few old, coarse engravings he had picked up to copy.

But, one day, Miss Patsey accidentally discovered these treasures between the leaves of a number of the

Longbridge Freeman, carefully stowed away in an old chest of drawers in the little garretroom where

Charlie slept. She found there a head of Washington; one of Dr. Blair; a view of Boston; and an old French

print called L'Ete, representing a shepherdess making hay in highheeled shoes and a hoop; there were copies

of these on bits of paper of all sizes, done with the pen or leadpencil; and lastly, a number of oddlooking

sketches of Charlie's own invention. The sight of these labours of art, was far from giving Miss Patsey

pleasure, although it accounted for the surprising disappearance of her writingpaper, and the extraordinary

clipping, she had remarked, of late, on all notes and letters that were left lying about, from which every scrap

of white paper was sure to be cut off. She spoke to Charlie on the subject, and, of course, he had to confess.

But he did not reform; on the contrary, matters soon grew worse, for he began to neglect his studies. It

happened that he passed the whole summer at home, as the school where his brother had been assistant, and

he himself a pupil, was broken up. At last, Miss Patsey talked to him so seriously, about wasting time on

trifles, that Charlie, who was a sensible, warmhearted boy, and well aware of the exertions his sister had

made for him, promised amendment, and actually burnt all his own sketches, though the precious engravings

were still preserved. This improvement only lasted a while, however, when he again took to drawing. This

time he resolutely respected Miss Patsey's paper, but that only made matters worse, for he became more

ambitious; he began to sketch from nature; and, having a special fancy for landscape, he used to carry his

slate and arithmetic into the fields; and, instead of becoming more expert in compound interest, he would sit

for hours composing pictures, and attempting every possible variety in the views of the same little millpond,

within a short distance of the house. He soon became quite expert in the management of his slate and pencil,

and showed a good deal of ingenuity in rubbing in and out the white shading on the black ground, something

in the manner of a stumpdrawing; but, of course, these sketches all disappeared before Charlie went to take

his regular lesson in bookkeeping, from the neighbour who had promised to keep him in practice until the

{"Dr. Blair" = possibly Robert Blair (Scottish poet, 16991747), author of "The Grave"; or James Blair

(16561743), founder of the College of William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia. "L'Ete" = summertime

(French); "stump drawing" = probably from "stump", a pencillike drawing implement of rolled paper or of

At last, however, Charlie determined to have an explanation with his mother and sister; he made a clean

breast as to the misdoings on the slate, and boldly coming to the point, suggested the possibility of his being

able to support himself, one day, as an artist, instead of a commission merchant. Poor Miss Patsey, this was a

sad blow to her! It had been her cherished ambition to see Charlie an upright, prosperous merchant; and now

that his prospects were brightening, and a situation was provided for him, that he should be only a painter!

She had a very low opinion of artists, as a class, and she would almost as soon have expected Charlie to

become a playactor, or a circusrider. When the boy found that both Uncle Josie and Uncle Dozie thought

his idea a very foolish one, that Miss Patsey was very much distressed, and Mrs. Hubbard could not be made

to comprehend the difference between an artist and a housepainter, he again abandoned his own cherished

plans, and resumed his commercial studies. Unfortunately, one day, Elinor was choosing a book as a present

for her old playfellow, at a bookstore in Philadelphia, when she laid her hand on the Lives of the Painters.

These volumes finally upset Charlie's philosophy; he immediately set to work to convince Miss Patsey and

Uncle Josie, by extracts from the different lives, that it was very possible to be a good and respectable man,

and not only support himself, but make a fortune, as an artist. Of course, he took care to skip over all

unpleasant points, and bad examples; but when he came to anything creditable, he made a note of itand,

one day, pursued Miss Patsey into the cellar, to read to her the fact that Reubens had been an ambassador.

{"Reubens" = Peter Paul Rubens (15771640), famous Flemish painter, who served as a diplomat in Spain

Miss Patsey confided her anxieties to Mr. Wyllys, who was already aware of Charlie's propensities, and,

indeed, thought them promising. He advised Mrs. Hubbard and Patsey, not to oppose the boy's wishes so

strongly, but to give him an opportunity of trying what he really could do; and as the expense was a very

important consideration with the Hubbards, he made Charlie a present of a palette and colours, and kindly

took him, one day, to Philadelphia, to see Mr. S, who gave him some advice as to the way in which he

should go to work. This assistance Charlie received, upon condition that he should also, at the same time,

continue his other studies; and in case any two artists that his friend might consult, should declare, on seeing

his work, that he did not show talent enough to promise reasonable success, he was, from that time, to devote

himself to business. For a while, Charlie was a great deal happier than a king. He immediately began a view

of his beloved little millpond, and then attempted one of a small sheet of water in the neighbourhood, called

Chewattan Lake. These, after having been touched and retouched, he carried, with a portfolio of drawings,

to New York, and with a fluttering heart and trembling hands laid them before two distinguished artists, Mr.

C and Mr. I, to whom Mr. Wyllys had given him letters. The decision of these gentlemen was

not discouraging, upon the whole; but they found that he had set out wrong in the arrangement of his colours,

and having corrected the mistake, they proposed his painting another piece in oils, to determine whether the

faults in the first were the result of ignorance, or of a false eye for colour; for on this point his judges

disagreed. It must be confessed that Charlie's clouds might give some idea of such vapours as they may exist

in the moon; but certainly the tints the youth had given them were very remarkable for an earthly atmosphere.

It was upon this last pictureanother view of Chewattan Lakethat Charles was engaged, heart and soul,

when the Wyllyses returned home. One afternoon, Mr. Wyllys proposed to Miss Agnes and Elinor, to walk

"Here we are, Charlie, my lad; you promised us a look at your work this week, you know;" said Mr. Wyllys,

as he walked into the neat little dooryard before the Hubbards' house, accompanied by the ladies.

Charlie was at work in the vegetable garden adjoining the dooryard, weeding the radishes.

"Everything looks in very good order here, Charles," observed Miss Wyllys. "You have not given up the

"Your beds and your flowers look as neat as possible," said Elinor; "just as usual. You don't seem to have

gone far enough in your career to have learned that, un beau desordre is the effect of art," she added, smiling.

"No, indeed; it is to be hoped I never shall, for that would throw my mother and sister into despair, at once!"

Miss Patsey, who had heard the voices of the party, now came from the little kitchen, where she had been

"Elinor has just remarked that things do not look as if you had an artist in the house; everything is neat as

Miss Patsey was beginning to resign herself to hearing Charlie called an artist, although the word had still an

"Charles is very good," she replied, "about keeping his things in their place; he does not make much litter."

After some inquiries about Mrs. Hubbardwho, it seems, was taking her afternoon napMr. Wyllys asked

"You must let us look at it, Charles," said Miss Agnes; "we have been waiting, you know, quite impatiently

"If we must go up to your STUDIO for it, we'll rest awhile first," said Mr. Wyllys taking a seat.

"You mortify me, sir," said Charlie, "by using such great words about my little doings, even in pleasantry. I

"I hope we shall find some improvementthat is all we can expect at present, my boy. We don't look for a

{"Claude" = Claude Lorrain (16001662), French painter famous for his landscapes, who was an important

"Pray, bring all your sketches, too," said Elinor. "Mary wrote me you were drawing all winter; you must have

"They are certainly not worth looking at; but such as they are, you shall see them."

"And don't forget the Arithmetic, too," said Mr. Wyllys, smiling; "we had better look a little into Compound

While he was gone, a carriage stopped at the little gate. It proved to be the Taylors; and Mr. Taylor, with his

wife, and a couple of children, walked in. After a general salutation had been exchanged, and two additional

chairs had been brought from a bedroom, to accommodate such an unusual number of visiters, Mr. Taylor

"It is not etiquette, I believe, to call twice in the same day; but I hope you will excuse us; for on this occasion,

"As you seem to be engaged, Miss Hubbard, we will put it off until another time," said Mrs. Taylor. " "Just as

Mr. Taylor, however, liked quick measures, and never postponed business if he could help it.

"We came to see you, this afternoon, about our two youngest children; if you can conveniently take them into

Charlie, at that moment, returned with his picture in one hand, and a portfolio in the other. He was rather

sorry to find the Taylors there, for he was far from admiring the gentleman. Mr. Wyllys was really anxious to

see the piece, and asked to look at it at once. The canvass was placed near a window, in the proper light, and

the covering removed. The Wyllyses were immediately struck with Charlie's rapid improvement; there was

indeed, no comparison between the young man's first attempts at the art, and this last piece. His friends all

"I suppose so," said Miss Patsey, with a shake of the head, and a smile. "I think I can see myself that this

"Quite a tasty painting," said Mr. Taylor, stepping up with a decided air towards the canvass. "I should

"I like landscapes best, sir," replied the youth; and turning to Mr. Wyllys, he added: "Mr. S advised me

"Certainly," answered Mr. Wyllys; "and you seem to prefer my millpond, Charlie, to the human face

"But, here are sketches of faces," said Elinor, looking over the portfolio; "very good, too;this is

excellentgrandpapa, do you know yourself? and Miss Patseyvery goodAunt Agnes, too! Why,

The sketches Elinor was looking at, were roughly done in ink or leadpencil; but were generally good

likenesses. Mr. Wyllys took up one, that had not yet been observed by the rest of the party; he smiled, and

passed it to his granddaughter. Elinor coloured, and her heart beat as she looked at it, for it was a sketch of

"That is Mr. Hazlehurst, if I am not mistaken; and a very good likeness, Miss Wyllys."

"I suppose, your son and Harry have met, in Paris, Mr. Taylor," said Miss Agnes, by way of turning his

"Yes, madam, Thomas mentions having had some intercourse with Mr. Hazlehurst, and observes, that he sees

him, almost every day, in the TULLYREES; which, Thomas says, is the RENDYVUSS of the fashionable

"Why, no; I think not. He went for six months; but he calculates, now, to stay some time longer. I am told,

Mr. Hazlehurst will not return until next year;they might make the European TOWER together. But

Thomas seems to like the CAFFIES and the BULLYVARDS of Paris, too much to move from that city."

Elinor was going to take another sketch from the table, when Charlie quickly passed his hand between Mr.

"I beg your pardonbut it is a wretched thing; I did not know it was there," said the youth, hastily.

"Pray, let me look at it," said Elinor, "for, I thought, I recognised a friend."

"You must not see it, indeed, Miss Elinor; I dare say, you took it for anybody but the right person;" said

Charlie, a good deal embarrassed, and hurriedly handing Elinor something else to look at.

"I honestly think, Charlie," said Mr. Wyllys, who had been examining the landscape, that Mr. C, and

Mr. I, will tell you to persevere, after this. There is something about the water, in your picture, that

"I am very glad to hear you say so; for there is nothing I like to paint so much as water. I took great pains

"Do you intend to make use of watercolours altogether, in your paintings?" asked Mr. Taylor.

"I should think, you would find watercolours cheaper; but oils must be more durable. Which are most

Charlie, understanding the point, at last, explained that watercolours, and oils, were two entirely distinct

"And that porTRATE, overhead, which is your father, I presume; is that in oils, too?"

"Yes, sir.There are very few pictures, of that size, in watercolours, I believe. Here is a miniature, in

watercolours, which Mrs. Van Horne lent me; I am taking a large picture, in oils, from it."

Mr. Taylor examined the miniature. "It has puzzled me considerably," he observed, "to know how painters

could change the size of an object, and be correct, without measuring it off in feet and inches; but, I suppose,

One is sometimes surprised by the excessive ignorance, on all matters concerning the fine arts, betrayed in

this country, by men of some education; very clever, in their way, and quite equal to making a speech or a

fortune, any day. In Europe, just notions, on such matters, are much more widely spread. But, after all, such a

state of things is perfectly natural; we have hitherto had no means of cultivating the general taste, in America,

having few galleries or even single works of art, open to the public. With the means, it is probable, that as we

grow older, we shall improve, in this respect. That there is talent, ay, genius, in the country, sufficient to

produce noble works of art, has been already proved. Nor can it be doubted, that there is latent feeling, and

taste enough, among the people, to appreciate them, if it were called forth by cultivation. It is only a brutal

and sluggish nation, who cannot be made to feel, as well as think. The cultivation necessary, however, is not

that which consists in forcing the whole body of the people to become conceited smatterers; but that which

provides a full supply of models for mediocrity to copy, and for talent to rival. It is evident, that common

sense requires us to pursue one of two courses; either to give true talent, in every fieldin literature, in

music, painting, sculpture, architecturesome share of the honourable encouragement which is its due, or

else honestly to resign all claim to national merit, in these branches of civilization; leaving the honour to the

individual. As neither the government, nor men singly, can do much toward encouraging the arts, this would

seem to be the very field in which societies might hope to produce great results. Would it not be a good

innovation, if those who often unite to present some public testimonial of respect to an individual, should

select, instead of the piece of plate, usual on such occasions, a picture or work of sculpture? Either, it is to be

supposed, if respectable in its way, would be a more agreeable offering, to a person of education, than gold or

silver in the shape most modern workmen give them. Under such circumstances, who would not prefer a

picture by Cole or Wier {sic}, a statue like Greenough's Medora, Power's Eve, or Crawford's Orpheus, to all

the silver salvers in New York? Who would not prefer even a copy from some fine bust or head of antiquity,

from some celebrated cabinet picture, to the best medal that has yet been struck in this country?

{"Cole" = Thomas Cole (18011848), American painter and founder of the socalled Hudson River School

of landscape painting; "Wier" = Robert Weir (18031889), another American landscape painter;

"Greenough" = Horatio Greenough (18051852), American sculptor, and a close friend of Susan Fenimore

Cooper's father; "Power" = Hiram Powers (18051873), another famous American sculptor; "Crawford" =

Thomas Crawford (18131857), another American sculptor, whose statue of Orpheus was purchased by the

Thoughts like these were passing through Mr. Wyllys's mind, as he sat looking at Charlie's picture. Mrs.

Taylor had, in the mean time, been making arrangements for her younger children to enter Miss Patsey's

school for the summer. Mr. Taylor having joined the ladies, something was heard about 'terms,' and the affair

appeared settled. Miss Agnes having mentioned to Mrs. Taylor that she had intended calling on her, but

would now postpone it until another day, she was so strongly urged to accompany them home, that she

consented to do so, aware that the visit should have been paid some time before. Accordingly, they all left the

It was not often that Miss Patsey's little parlour was so full, and so much littered, as it had been that

afternoon; it generally looked crowded, if it contained two or three persons besides the minister's portrait, and

was thought out of order, if the large rockingchair, or the clumsy, oldfashioned teatable did not stand in

Very different was the aspect of things at Mr. Taylor's. Not that the rooms were imposing, in size, but the

elegance of the furniture was so very striking. Of course, there were two drawingrooms, with foldingdoors

and Brussels carpets; while everything corresponded to a fashionable model. Mrs. Taylor, good soul, cared

very little for these vanities of life. The windowblinds, in her two drawingrooms, were never opened,

except for some occasional morning visiter or evening teaparty; she herself used what she called the 'living

room,' where she could have her younger children about her, and darn as many stockings as she chose. The

drawingrooms were opened, however, for the Wyllyses, who were urged to stay to tea. Miss Agnes declined

the invitation, though Mr. Wyllys and herself remained long enough to look at the plan of a new house, which

Mr. Taylor was to build shortly; it was to be something quite grand, far surpassing anything of the kind in the

JANE GRAHAM joined Elinor at WyllysRoof, after having made her parting curtsey to Mrs. G. Her

parents lived at Charleston; but as her constitution was delicate, and required a more bracing air than that of

Carolina, Jane had been more than once, for a twelvemonth at a time, entirely under Miss Wyllys's charge,

and was seldom absent from Longbridge for more than a few months together. It was now settled that she

was to remain with Elinor until the autumn, when her parents, who were coming north for a couple of

months, were to carry her back to Charleston. Miss Adeline Taylor, of course, found it impossible to remain

longer at school, when Jane, her bosomfriend, had left it. She, too, returned to her family in the country,

prepared to enliven the neighbourhood to the best of her ability. The intimacy between these two young

ladies was only riveted more closely by the necessity of living under different roofs; Adeline, indeed,

protested that she found the separation so distressing, that she thought it would be an excellent plan, to divide

the winter together, between Charleston and New York; Jane to pass the first three months with her, and she,

in her turn, to accompany her friend to Charleston, later in the season. But Jane thought her mother would

now wish to have her return home as soon as possible, as it was already nearly a year since she had seen her

family. This affair, however, was not quite decided; Adeline declaring that she could not bear to give up the

idea, hinting that there were allimportant reasons for their remaining together during the next winter.

Elinor often wondered that her cousin should find so much pleasure in this intimacy with Miss Taylor, whom

she was far from liking herself; and she could not help thinking that Adeline was more persevering in pursuit

of Jane, than was agreeable. The dislikes of young girls of seventeen are seldom violent, however, whatever

their likings may be. She made the best of it, and the three girls were often together.

One evening, when they had been drinking tea at Mrs. Taylor's, Elinor was much struck with a change in

Jane's manner, which she had already observed several times of late, when they had been in society together.

As they were coming home, and alone together in the carriage, she spoke to her cousin on the subject.

"Was I? Well, I'm very tired now; it is almost too much for me, Elinor, to be so lively."

"If it fatigues you to go out, my dear Jane, we had better stay at home next time we are asked; but I thought

"So I did. It does not tire me at all to go out; there is nothing I like so much as going to parties. If one could

only do as they pleasedjust sit still, and look on; not laughing and talking all the time, it would be

"That is what I have often done at parties," said Elinor, smiling; "and not from choice either, but from

"No, indeed;" said Elinor, colouring a little, as she laughed at the inquiry. "I meant to say, that I had often sat

still, without talking, at parties, because no one took the trouble to come and speak to me. Not here, at home,

"Oh, but you never cared about being a belle. Adeline says everybody knows you are engaged, and it is no

matter what you do or say. But Adeline says, to be a belle, you must laugh and talk all the time, whether you

feel like it or not; and she thinks you need not be particular what you talk about, only you must be all the time

lively. The young men won't dance with you, or hand you in to supper, unless you entertain them. Adeline

"But Jane, you are so very pretty, there is no danger of your being overlooked."

"No, indeed, you are mistaken," said Jane, with perfect naivete. "I was at two or three small parties, you

know, in New York, while I was staying with Mrs. Stanley, this spring; well, I missed more than half the

quadrilles, while those fat Miss Grants, and the Howard girls, were dancing all the evening. Adeline says it is

all because I was not lively. They don't think anything of you unless you are all the time talking, and

laughing, and moving about; and it does tire me soI'm almost sick of it already. I'm sure I shall never be

able to be lively at Charleston, in warm weather. I shan't be a belle, Elinor, I'm afraid!" said the young beauty,

"Poor Jane!" said Elinor, laughing, though she really felt provoked with Adeline for giving her cousin such

notions; Jane looked half wornout with the evening's exertions. "And I believed, all the time, that you were

in such good spirits! Charlie and I were looking at you with surprise; we thought Mr. Van Horne, and John

Bernard must be telling you something very amusing, you were laughing and talking so much."

But Jane was not destined to try the effect of the Charleston climate upon the energies of a belle. Her parents

arrived in New York, where she met them. She found letters there from her sister, Mrs. Robert Hazlehurst, to

her mother and herself, strongly urging the propriety of Jane joining their party, for the last year of their

European visit. Mrs. Hazlehurst thought travelling would be of great service to her sister, in every respect; it

would, probably, restore her health entirety; in Paris she would take lessons from the best masters, if she

wished itbesides enjoying the advantages of seeing the Old World; at the same time that, in her sister's

family, she would be as well taken care of, as if at her father's house, or at WyllysRoof. It was an

opportunity which might not occur again, and Mrs. Hazlehurst wrote so urgently, that her parents consented

to the arrangement, provided Jane, herself, liked the idea. An old friend of the family, Mrs. Howard, was to

sail next month for France, and would willingly take charge of Mrs. Graham's daughter during the voyage:

everything was settled, it only remained for Jane, herself, to decide. She was far less anxious, however, to see

the wonders of Europe, than many other young persons would have been. Elinor congratulated her warmly

upon her good fortune, and dwelt upon the pleasure she would, no doubt, enjoy; still, Jane appeared rather

indifferent to the plan, and it would probably have been abandoned, had it not been for two circumstances.

Her father thought the voyage and change of air might have a happy effect on her health, and improve it

permanently; and, at the same time, Miss Adeline Taylor threw the whole weight of her influence into the

scales; she had a long private interview with Jane, which seemed to decide the matter. The arrangements were

made, and the first of September, Jane, accompanied by her parents, Miss Agnes, and Elinor, went on board

the Havre packet, and was placed under the care of Mr. and Mrs. Howard. Though the separation took place

under such happy auspices, there were some tears shed, of course. Elinor felt quite sad at parting from her

young friend, to whom she was warmly attached; but time and tide soon separated the cousins, and the last

{"Havre packet" = scheduled passenger ship to Le Havre, the principal Atlantic port of arrival in France}

Elinor had placed in Jane's hands a small package, and a letter, for Harry. The last we do not think ourselves

privileged to open; but the little box we know to have contained a purse of her own knitting, and a lock of

hair, which was sent at the special request of Harry, as he intended to have it placed in a ring by a Paris

jeweller. Jane's baggage contained, moreover, in addition to her own paraphernalia, several articles that one

would not expect to find among a young lady's trunks and hatboxes. She, carried with her a barrel of

buckwheat, a keg of cranberries, and a couple of jars of gingerdainties for which, it appeared, some

American friends of the Hazlehursts had sighed, even amid all the delicacies of Paris.

In a few weeks, the family at WyllysRoof had the pleasure of hearing of Jane's safe arrival in Paris. The

good news came through Harry, and we shall give his letter, since it was the last Elinor received from him in

"You will be glad to hear that Jane passed the barriers, this morning, with the Howards. She has just finished

a letter to Mrs. Graham; and, as she dislikes writing so much, has given me leave to announce her arrival to

all at WyllysRoof. As Jane enters Paris on one side, I leave it in the opposite direction, for, the day after

tomorrow, I am off for Constantinople; a movement which will, no doubt, astonish you, though, I am sure,

you will wish me joy of such pleasant prospects. This letter will probably be the last you will hear of me, for

some time; not but what I shall write as usual, but these long overland mails, through countries where they

suspect revolution or plague, in every letter, often fail to do their duty. In fact, I delayed my journey a week

or two, expressly to see Jane, and have a good supply of Longbridge news before setting out. Everybody tells

me, I must expect to lose more than half my letters, both ways. This is bad enough, to be sure; but a journey

to Greece and Constantinople, would be too full of delights, without some serious drawback. I believe Jane is

more tired by answering our questions, and hearing what we have to tell her, than by her voyage. I cannot

help wishing, my dear Elinor, that it were you who had arrived in Paris, instead of our pretty little cousin.

How I should delight in showing you my favourite view, the quais and the island, from the Pont Royalthe

Louvre, too, and the Madeleine. As for Jane, she will, doubtless, find her chief pleasures at Delilles', and the

Tuileriesbuying finery, and showing it off: it has often puzzled me to find out which some ladies most

{"barriers" = gateways leading into Paris, where travellers' papers were examined}

"We are to be a party of four of us, on our eastern expedition. In the first place, Ellsworth, whom you may

have seen; a very clever fellow, and brotherinlaw to poor Creighton. Bythebye, Mrs. Creighton is still

here, and has been living, very quietly, with her brother, since her husband's death; she is now going to the

Howards, who are her connexions, I believe; so says Louisa, at least. Ellsworth, you know, poor fellow, lost

his wife about a year ago; he has left his little girl with her mother's friends, and has come abroad for a year

or two. Having been in Europe before, he was very glad to make one, in our party to the East, where he has

not yet been. I mention him first, for he is the most agreeable of our set. There is not much to be said on the

chapter of young Brown; and, I must confess, that I don't quite agree with Col. Stryker, in the very good

opinion he evidently entertains of himself. Bythebye, American Colonels are as plenty, nowadays, as

the 'Marquis' used to be, at Versailles, in the time of the Grand Louis. Some simple European folk, actually

believe that each of these gentry has his regimentin the garrison of 'Nieu Yorck,' I suppose; it would

puzzle them, to find the army, if they were to cross the Atlantic; I don't remember to have seen one of Uncle

"Many thanks, dearest Elinor, for the contents of your box; you cannot doubt but they will accompany your

preux chevalier on his pilgrimage. This Eastern movement has been such a sudden one, that I have still a

thousand things to do, which will oblige me to make my letter shorter than I wish. Ellsworth is waiting for

me, at this moment. We expect to be gone six, or, possibly, eight months. I shall write again from Marseilles;

and, I hope, the letter from thence will reach you. Pull Bruno's ears for me, and don't let him forget his

master; which will be one way, my dear, kind, Elinor, of obliging you to remember that individual also. Best

respects to Mr. Wyllys and Aunt Agnes, with much love for yourself, dearest Elinor, from

P. S.Many remembrances for Mrs. Stanley, if she is with you; I wrote to her last month."

ABOUT the middle of the following March, the season, by courtesy called spring, but when winter

sometimes reigns de facto, in the neighbourhood to which WyllysRoof belonged, Mr. Wyllys proposed, one

morning, to drive his granddaughter to Longbridge, with the double object, of making the most of a late fall

The light cutter slipped through a track in which there was quite as much mud as snow, and, it seemed, as if

most people preferred staying at home, to moving over roads in that halfandhalf condition: they met no

"I was sure you would be out this morning, Mr. Wyllys," cried the Doctor, as they met, "your sleigh is always

"You generally keep me company, I find, doctor. I am going for the mail. How far have you been, this

"To Longbridge, sir; but, with this sun, the snow will hardly carry you there and home again; and yet, I dare

say, you will find something worth having, in the mail, for I saw letters in your box; and there is a French

"Indeed! We'll make the best of our way, then, at once;" and, wishing the doctor good morning, Mr. Wyllys

drove off. "We shall have letters from Paris, I hope, Nelly," said her grandfather.

"Certainly, I hope so," replied Elinor; "Jane's last letter was shamefully short. I had half a mind not to answer

"Jenny is no great letterwriter; and she is very busy enjoying her year in Paris, I suppose. But I shall be glad

to have a sight of Harry's handwriting again. Where was it he wrote from last, in December?"

"Well, I hope we shall hear something from him today. Before long, I suppose, we shall have the young

gentleman at WyllysRoof, trying to persuade you that he wants your help in reading Blackstone. But, don't

{"Blackstone" = Sir William Blackstone (17231780), British jurist whose "Commentaries on the Laws of

"Yes, time enough! and we can judge what sort of a lawyer he will make, by the way in which he handles the

subject. As it is a bad cause, he ought to find a great deal to say on the occasion. Suppose he manages the

matter so well, as to bring your aunt and myself over to his side, what would you say?"

"I can only say now, grandpapa, that I cannot bear to think of the time when I shall have to leave Aunt Agnes

and yourself," replied Elinor, with feeling. "Pray, don't let us talk about it yet; I shall be very well satisfied

"Well, you may be satisfied to have Harry in Egypt; but I should like to see him here, once in a while. When

"The last of the summer, sir. They sail in August, that Louisa may see Mrs. Graham before she goes south."

"Yes; Jenny has had all the gaietyHarry all the adventureand you, all the sobriety. But it was your own

The last six months had, indeed, passed very differently to the young people. Jane had been dancing away her

evenings on the parquets of Paris; and dividing her mornings between walks to the Tuileries, drives to the

Bois de Boulogne, and visits to the shops. As for the lessons which had, at one time, entered into the plan,

they had never been even commenced. Jane was too indolent to take pleasure in anything of the kind; and her

companions, the daughters of Mrs. Howard, led her into so much gaiety, that she really seemed to have little

time for anything else. Mrs. Robert Hazlehurst thought, indeed, that her sister was quite too dissipated; still,

Jane seemed to enjoy it so much, she looked so well and happy, and Mrs. Howard was such an obliging

chaperon, that the same course was pursued, week after week; although Mrs. Hazlehurst, herself, who had an

Elinor, in the mean time, was passing the quietest of country lives at WyllysRoof, where the family

remained all winter. Even the letters, which the previous year had given her so much pleasure, had been

wanting during the past season. Jane never wrote oftener than was absolutely necessary; and only two of

Hurry's letters reached their destination. There was a package from Europe, however, in the Longbridge

PostOffice, on the morning of the sleighdrive we have alluded to. It contained a long letter from Harry,

written at Smyrna, announcing that he hoped to be in Paris some time in March; and one from Mrs.

Hazlehurst, informing her friends of their plans for the summerincluding an excursion to

The very day Elinor received these letters, Harry returned to Paris. After pitching his tent among Grecian

ruins, and riding on camels over the sands of Egypt and Syria, he had returned to France through Turkey and

Austria; thinking himself a very lucky fellow to have seen so much of what the world contains, worth seeing.

He found his brother entirely recovered, as well as he had been before the accident which had injured him. He

was called upon to admire the little niece born during his absence; she was a sweet little baby, and Mrs.

Hazlehurst had named her Elinor, after her future sisterinlawa kind attention for which Harry was much

obliged to her, and which, he declared, would make the child a favourite with him.

Jane was there, of course, and glad to see Harry, of course. Hazlehurst had scarcely taken possession of a

comfortable fauteuil in his brother's drawingroom, before the thought occurred to him, that all the party

looked much as usual, excepting Jane. During the first evening, he became convinced that she was certainly

altered by the air of Paris. How very much she had improved in appearance and manner! He had never before

thought her so very beautiful as many others had donebut he must now retract all he had ever said on the

subject. He supposed the good taste with which she was dressed must have some effect; but it seemed as if

her beauty were now in its perfection. When he last saw her, there was something almost childish in her

appearance and expression, which she had now lost entirely. He was struck with the air of finish about her

whole person, from the rich glossy lustre on her dark hair, to the pearly tint of her complexion. She was,

indeed, a beautiful creature. What a sensation such a face must create among the enthusiastic Parisians! Then,

she must have more feeling than he had given her credit for; she had received him quite kindly, and seemed

Daily observation, while living under the same roof, only confirmed Harry in this new opinion of Jane. He

began to admire the languid grace of her movements; and he discovered that it is very possible to have too

much warmth of manner, and that some women certainly fatigue one by their animation. He must tell the

family at WyllysRoof how much Jane had improved. He found he was not mistaken in supposing that she

must produce an impression wherever she was seen. Whether they were walking in the Tuileries of a

morning, or went into society in the evening, the effect was always the same; he saw her everywhere

followed by very evident and open admiration. And no wonder; her beauty threw a charm over all her

actions: it was even a pleasure to accompany her in shopping excursionswhich he used to look upon as the

greatest tax that a lady could impose upon his gallantry; but then, few persons looked so beautiful as Jane,

when selecting a muslin, or trying on a hat. He soon became proud of a place at her side, and much more vain

"I must let them know at Longbridge," he thought, "what a sensation Jane is making. She is, indeed, a beauty

to be proud of. I saw nothing like her in Greece. She does credit to the country." Harry thought it patriotic to

admire her, and to lose no opportunity of enjoying the effect of her beauties among the gay world of Paris.

Jane and himself became more intimate, and on more friendly terms than they had ever yet been. She seemed,

indeed, to prefer him, as a cavaliere servente, to any of her other admirers, American or European. But that

might easily be accounted for, on the score of connexion. Of course, Harry was grateful for this preference,

and after a while he even began to look upon the excessive devotion of one or two of her admirers, as

About this timesome weeks after his returnHazlehurst gave himself very much to the study of

aesthetics. The beautiful, the harmonious, alone attracted him; he could not endure anything approaching to

coarseness. He wandered up and down the galleries of the Louvre, delighting more in the beautiful faces of

the Italian masters, in the Nymphs and Muses of the old Greeks, than he had ever done before. He became

quite a connoisseur. He had no taste for the merely pretty; perfect beauty he admired with his whole soul, but

anything short of it was only to be tolerated. He felt the fact, if he did not reason on the discovery, that beauty

in the very highest degree, carries with itwe do not say the expressionbut the stamp of dignity, and even

of intelligence. Such was the impression produced by Jane's perfectly classical head and features. It was

impossible, as you gazed upon her smooth polished forehead, and noble dark eyes, to believe her wanting in

character, or intellect. Then, Harry remembered that talent of the highest order bears a calm aspect; not

frothy, sparkling cleverness, which takes so well with the vulgar; not wit, exactly; but that result of a

wellbalanced mind, in which all the faculties harmonize so well, that they leave no one particularly

prominent. He had been much struck, lately, with several remarks of Jane'sthey showed a depth of

observation, a fund of good sense, which he had not formerly supposed her to possess; but then, of old, he

used to be unpardonably unjust to Jane. She was certainly improved, too; her friends at Longbridge would be

This course of aesthetics gradually carried Harry so far, that after a profound study of the subject in general,

and of Jane's features in particular, he became a convert to the opinion of the German philosopher, who

affirms that "The Beautiful is greater than the Good." There have been disputes, we believe, on the subject of

this axiom, some critics giving it a deep mystical sense, others, again, attempting to explain it in different

ways. Our friend Hazlehurst, though a pretty good German scholar, seemed disposed to adopt the idea in its

{"German philosopher" = I have been unable to identify with certainty the quotation, though the sentiment

{George Crabbe (English poet, 17541832), "Posthumous Tales: XV Belinda Waters" line II.31}

LONGBRIDGE was quite a pleasant village, and surrounded by a pretty country. Like most other American

rural towns, it received, in the warmest months, a large accession to its population; for it seems to be a matter

of course, that everybody who is able to do so, runs away from brick walls in the months of July and August,

and selects some village in which to rusticate, and set the fashions, enjoy the dust and the fireflies, fresh

peaches, and homemade icecream.Longbridge, in addition to the usual advantages of pure air, and

brown fields, in the month of August, had something of a reputation as a place for bathing; and its three

taverns, and various boardinghouses, were generally well filled with families from New York and

Among others, during the season to which we allude, the Grahams were there, anxiously awaiting the arrival

of the Hazlehurst party from Europe; for letters had been received, informing their friends that they might be

expected at any moment. The Wyllys carriage was now seen at Longbridge every day, either at the house

where their relatives, the Grahams, had taken lodgings for the season, or before the door of a neat little

cottage, recently purchased by Mr. Wyllys for the widow of his youngest son, Mrs. George Wyllys. This

lady, to whom the reader has been already introduced, had been left, with four children, almost entirely

dependent on her fatherinlaw. Her character was somewhat of a medley. She was a goodhearted woman,

attached to her husband's family, and always asking advice of her friends, particularly Mr. Wyllys, and Miss

Agnes, for whom she had a sincere respect. She was pretty, ladylike, rather clever, and a pleasant

companion to persons not particularly interested in her welfare. On indifferent topics she could converse with

as much good sense as the rest of the world; but her own affairs she mismanaged terribly. All her other good

qualities seemed unsettled by a certain infusion of caprice, and jealousy of influence; and yet she really meant

well, and fancied herself a very prudent woman. She thought she was capable of making any sacrifice for

those she loved, and therefore believed herself a model in all the relations of life. As a mother, she had a

system of education, the theory of which was excellent; but there was little consistency in its practice. As

regards moneymatters, she talked and thought so much about economy, that she took it for granted that she

practised it. After having passed the first years of her widowhood with her own family in Baltimore, she had

lately become convinced that her income was not sufficient to allow her living in a large town, without

running in debt. Mr. Wyllys was unfortunately too well aware that his daughterinlaw's difficulties were not

the result of Baltimore prices, but of her own mismanagement. Franklin advises his friends to "take care of

the pence, and the pounds will take care of themselves:" but this rule is by no means infallible. Perhaps there

is no species of extravagance more common, than that often practised by welldisposed people, which

consists of being "pennywise, poundfoolish;" they will save a hundred cents on as many different

occasions, and throw away twenty dollars on one object. It happens that such persons often succeed in

persuading themselves that they are models of prudence, and selfdenial. Such was Mrs. George Wyllys's

plan; and, unfortunately, she not only brought trouble on herself, but was a constant source of anxiety to her

fatherinlaw, who endeavoured, in vain, to counteract the evil; but every succeeding year brought a

{"Franklin" = Benjamin Franklin (17061790), but the expression is usually attributed to Lord Chesterfield

(16741773); "penny wise, pound foolish" = phrase originated by Robert Burton (15771640)}

At present, Mrs. Wyllys was bent upon economy in a cottage, with new furniture, purchased at a high price,

at New York auctions; and it was in vain to oppose her plan, so convinced was she, that duty alone could

"We must make the best of it, Agnes," said Mr. Wyllys, "it will be pleasant, at least, to have Harriet and her

Miss Agnes agreed to the first part of her father's remark, but was far from feeling sanguine as to their being

of any advantage to the children. It was a part of Mrs. Wyllys's system, to consult her friends far more

frequently than was necessary, upon the education of her family, at the same time that it also entered into her

As for Elinor, she was very well pleased with her aunt's arrival in the neighbourhood; of course, she was too

young and inexperienced to know the exact state of matters, and she was attached to Mrs. Wyllys, and fond

One afternoon, Mrs. Wyllys had persuaded Miss Agnes and Elinor to drink tea with her, and not return home

until the evening. The ladies were sitting together, in Mrs. Wyllys's pleasant little parlour, engaged with their

needles, while the children were playing under the windows, in the shady dooryard.

"Shall I put the bow on the right or left side, Elinor?" asked Mrs. Wyllys, who was retrimming a hat for one

"Perhaps it does; there is a stain, however, on the other side, which must be covered," replied the lady,

changing the bow. "This riband was very cheap, Agnes," she added, showing it to her sisterinlaw. "Only

twenty cents a yard. I bought the whole piece, although I shall not want it until next spring."

"Quite cheap," said Miss Agnes, looking at the riband; "but I don't know what you will do with so much of

A pretty, little girl, about eight years old, ran into the room, and, skipping up to her mother, whispered, "Here

"Who is it, Elinor?" asked Mrs. Wyllys, of her niece, who was sitting near the window.

"Oh, no; her cousinsvery different persons. The Longbridge Hubbards, whose acquaintance you have not

Two ladies, radiant with elegance, entered the room, and were introduced, by Miss Agnes, to her

sisterinlaw, as Mrs. Hilson, and Miss Emmeline Hubbard. They were both young; quite pretty; very

fashionably dressed; very silly in their expressions, and much alike, in every respect.

After a few preliminary speeches, Mrs. Hilson remarked, that she was very glad Mrs. Wyllys had come to

"Thank you," replied the lady; "Longbridge is a favourite place of mine; but I have not yet seen many traces

"Why, no, Julianna," observed Miss Emmeline, "I don't think our village is at all a rustic place. We have too

"It is true," said Mrs. Hilson, "Longbridge has always been a very aristocratic place. You know, Miss

"I was not aware of it; but then I am really a rustic," Miss Wyllys added, smiling.

"Yes, it is unfortunate, you should be so far from the village. Emmeline and I often pity you, Miss Elinor, for

"That is scarcely worth while, I assure you, for we have several pleasant families, within a short distance."

"But only a very small circle, however. Now we have quite a large set of aristocratic people, in the village.

"You will find your two next neighbours, Mrs. Bibbs and Mrs. Tibbs, very fascinating ladies," observed Miss

Emmeline. "Mrs. Bibbs is one of our beauties; and Mrs. Tibbs, our most elegant dresser."

"Emmeline is going over the Court Calendar, for you, already," said Mrs. Hilson, laughing fashionably.

{"Court Calendar" = from the section of British newspapers devoted to the schedule and appearances of the

"Oh, no; Mrs. Tibbs is the lady of our physician, and Mrs. Bibbs is a 'marchande,'she is a very fascinating

lady, and has a fine flow of conversation. She was a great belle, at Saratoga, a year or two since; you may,

"Is it possible? I cannot live without three weeks at Saratoga, and a fortnight at Rockaway, every year. Before

I ordered my weddingdress, I made Mr. Hilson promise I should have my own way about that. I said to him,

one day, 'Alonzo, before the settlements are drawn up, I shall require you to pledge yourself to six weeks,

{"settlements" = marriage settlements or prenuptial agreements; "Rockaway" = a fashionable seaside

"Very naturally; having lived in the world of fashion from my cradle, I do not think I could breathe any other

atmosphere. It must be a great change for you, Mrs. Wyllys, from all the pleasures of a citylife to a small

"It will be a relief to you, to find so much aristocracy among us. We have a certain clique, that, I think, must

satisfy the most refined taste, and will console you, I hope, for the loss of genteel society in Baltimore."

"I regret to hear that.We must try to persuade you to change your determination, and mingle more with

society. I feel confident, that our WestEnd clique must satisfy the most refined taste. We expect to have a

great deal of gaiety, this fall; but, just at present, we have a scarcity of beaux."

"What has become of young Mr. Taylor; he was to have been home by this time. Do you hear anything of

"I hope he will arrive before our summer parties are over. Mr. and Mrs. Hazlehurst, too, and Miss Graham,

"I hope," said Mrs. Hilson, "they will arrive while I am here, which will be longer than usual, this season, for

they are painting our suit {sic} of apartments in the city. When I came, Alonzo told Emmeline to keep me

until October, and she has promised me a round of entertainments, while I am with her; so that I feel

"Miss Graham will dash a great deal, no doubt, when she comes back," said Miss Emmeline; "I quite long to

see her. Miss Taylor must be expecting her impatiently. Bythebye, I understand, Mr. Taylor's new

furniture is now all arrived. His villa, as well as his cityhouse, will be very stylish."

"Mr. Taylor is a very tasty gentleman," observed Mrs. Hilson. "He seems to be very talented, in every way;

formed to figure in fashionable life, as well as in business. His new house is a magnificent edifice."

"Your father tells me, he has quite finished his own house, Mrs. Hilson; you must be glad to get rid of the

"Yesthey have been long enough about it; but Pa has oldfashioned notions about having everything

substantial, and well done; he said Emmeline and I might choose the plan, and have everything as we liked;

but he must have his own time to do it in. However, it is a delightful mansion, now. It has every convenience

of the most fashionable houses in the city; plateglass, and foldingdoors, and marble chimneys to the garret.

Just such a house as I should like in New York; though, to tell the truth, I would not keep house for the

"Julianna is so delightfully situated, in her boardinghouse, Mrs. Wyllys, that she has nothing to wish for."

{"boardinghouse" = at this period in American history, many respectable and reasonably welloff people

and even families lived permanently in boardinghouses, rather than maintain a houseful of servants}

"Yes, we have every luxury of fashionable life, united to a very aristocratic set of boarders; and Mrs. Stone,

herself, is an extremely fascinating lady. Indeed, I have been spoilt; I don't think I could endure the drudgery

of housekeeping, now; though I once told Alonzo, if he would give me a fourstory house, up town, with a

"You must find the situation of your father's new house pleasanter than that he has left," observed Miss

"By no means.That is a serious objection to our new mansion. Standing surrounded by the park, on three

"I should have thought you would find it pleasant to be removed farther from the noise and dust. What is your

"I really do not know what has become of him," said Mrs. Hilson, languidly; for she always felt rather

mortified by any allusion to her unfashionable relations. "Though Charles is in the city now, studying

painting, yet I never see him. He told Mr. Hilson that he called sometimes, but I have never seen his card; in a

large boardinghouse like ours, with a family of forty or fifty people, there is often great confusion about

visits. But, Emmeline, we are making a very unfashionable call. I am quite ashamed, Mrs. Wyllys: but we

will relieve you nowI see our carriage has returned." And after an exchange of curtsies, the ladies glided

out of the room. Miss Emmeline, as she passed, touched the curly head of one of the children, exclaiming as

We have said that these two sisters were very much alike. Mrs. Hilson, however, was the most distinguished

of the two, for she carried the family follies several degrees farther than Miss Emmeline. Taken altogether,

she was an absurd compound. Personally, she was thoroughly American, very pretty and delicate in form and

features, and thus far appeared to great advantage; but she had, also, an affected mincing manner, and

drawling voice. Of course, her dress was as Parisian as possible; everything she wore was a faithful copy

from "Le Courier des Dames." Her feelings and opinions; Mrs. Hilson was proud to call English in the

extreme, for she had chosen to imbibe a great love of "aristocracy," and many other things which she did not

in the least understand. She had a set of commonplace phrases of this description in constant use, having

borrowed them from an intimate friend, living in the same boardinghouse, a Mrs. Bagman, an

Englishwoman, of a very equivocal position. Then, she read nothing but English novels; these were her only

source of amusement and instruction in the way of books; and as she followed the example of Mrs. Bagman,

in rejecting every tale that had not its due share of lords and ladies, she called herself fastidious in the

selection. She was a great talker, and not a day passed but what cockney sentiments fell from her pretty little

mouth, in drawling tones, from under a fanciful Parisian coiffure. John Bull would have stared, however, if

called upon to acknowledge her as a daughter; for Yankee vulgarity and English vulgarity are very different

These ladies had scarcely driven from the door, before Mrs. Wyllys exclaimed: "Is it possible, Agnes, that

"No; as regards the ladies of the family, one can say little. They are not perhaps, by nature, as ridiculous as

they have made themselves. Time may do something for them. But their father is a very worthy, respectable

man; you must have seen him at our house last summer. Don't you remember one day two uncles of Patsey

"Yes, I do remember them; one Charles Hubbard called Uncle Josey {sic}, and he seemed quite a sensible

"The napping uncle is the old bachelor; Uncle Josie is the father of these ladies."

"They are very disagreeable, certainly. How often shall we be required to encounter this desperate elegance? I

"And between Mrs. Bibbs, and Mrs. Tibbs, too!" said Elinor, laughing. "However, for your consolation,

Aunt, I can assure you these two ladies are far from being so very 'fascinating' as the Hubbards. Mrs. Hilson

and her sister rise high above the rest of us in that respectthey are, decidedly, 'our Corinthian capital.'"

"You will find the Van Hornes, the Bernards, and several other families, very pleasant neighbours, on farther

acquaintance," said Miss Agnes. "You have really been unfortunate in this specimen."

"With a miserable education to begin with, no other reading than the worst novels, and the chance association

of secondrate boardinghouses, that point, I think, is easily accounted for," said Miss Agnes.

The conversation was interrupted by the hurried return of Mr. Wyllys, who held a newspaper in his hand.

"They have arrived!" cried Elinor, springing from her chair, as she saw her grandfather enter the gate.

"Good news!" said Mr. Wyllys, as he joined the ladies. "The Erie is in, and our friends with her! They must

Of course, all the family were gratified by the good news. Elinor was quite agitated, though her aunt had the

"Here it is," said Mr. Wyllys, reading from the paper the arrival of "'the Packet Ship Erie, Capt. Funck, from

Havre, consigned to Co.;' that you won't care about. But here is the list of passengers: 'Mr.

Johnson, Mrs. Johnson, and a dozen Masters and Misses Johnson, from Natchez;'strangers, you will say,

but here are acquaintances: 'Mrs. Creighton, Mr. Francis Ellsworth, and servant, of Phil.; Mr. and Mrs. Robert

Hazleworth, and family, of Phil.; Miss Graham, of Phil.; Madame Gigot, of Paris:' wait a moment, Nelly, all

in good time. 'Capt. Flint, of British Army; Achille Bureau, of Paris; T. Davis, of Charleston; Dr. Brackett, of

St. Louis;' and, though last, not least in our estimation, W. Hazleworth, of Phil.; with seventynine in the

steerage.' Of course, for W. Hazleworth, read H. Hazlehurst; they never spell a name right. We shall have

They were still talking over the arrival, when Mrs. Wyllys's little girl came skipping in, again, and said;

"Here comes a gentleman, mamma." She was followed in an instant, by a young man, who, in a hurried,

eager manner, had kissed the hand of Miss Agnes, and Elinor's cheek, before either had time to exclaim

It was, in fact, Hazlehurst, still in his travellingcap. They had arrived in the night, he said, and the rest of the

{George Crabbe (English poet, 17541832), "Posthumous Tales: VI The Farewell and Return" line I.62}

OF course, Harry was established at WyllysRoof. And, after a few days passed with her parents at

It is a pleasant moment for people of mature years, when they can sit idly by, as affectionate observers, while

a gay party of young people, in whom they are interested, are chatting familiarly together, with the lively tone

and light spirits of youth, free alike from the restraints of childhood, and the cares of middle age. Every

varied shade of character, unconsciously betrayed by the young groupthe playful remarkthe just

observationthe pleasing acquirementan act of goodnaturea graceful motionthe bright eye and the

careless smileay, even the proof of inexperience and want of worldly wisdomall is attractive to the

partial friends. They feel such a moment to be the reward of many a previous hour of care and anxiety; it is

their happy privilege to mark each improvement in person, mind and heartthe fruit of past labours and

prayersthe cheering promise amid the doubts of the future. Happy they, who can look upon the young

people committed to their charge, with the consciousness that no important duty towards them has been

neglected; happy the young person, who, with a clear conscience and an open countenance, can meet the

approving smile of a parent; thrice happy the youth, who, having taken a false step at the beginning of his

career, has had the courage and wisdom to turn, ere too late; that precious approbation of wise and true

friends, may still be fully his; he has turned from danger, temptation and shame, into the sure and safe path

As for our friends at WyllysRoof, the joy of reunion, after a long absence, gave additional zest to the first

pleasant meetings of the young people, in whom Miss Agnes and Mr. Wyllys were so warmly interested.

Elinor was in gay spiritseven Jane was more animated than usual, in her expressions and manners. As for

Harry, he was decidedly improved; the last two years had done a great deal for him. He was now a clever,

welleducated, agreeable young man of threeandtwenty, whose judgment and taste were much improved

It was easy to gather, from the natural, healthful tone of his conversation, that in more important points, while

As for Jane, Miss Agnes had not expected much from her, and she was pleased with the changes she

observed. Her young kinswoman's temper seemed to have become more even than formerly, and she was

quite as much pleased to return to her family, as she ought to have been. It appeared natural, that everybody

who saw Jane should be satisfied with looking at her. Beauty like hers disarmed their attempts at severity,

and disposed them to indulgence. It seemed scarcely reasonable to expect any striking quality, or great virtue,

with beauty so rare. But if the Wyllyses had thought her beautiful before she left them, they were really

astonished to find how much it had been possible for her to gain in appearance. Her face was now perfectly

lovely, in the finest style of beauty. Miss Wyllys was pleased to find her manners much improved; a change

from the society of Adeline Taylor, and her lively young friends, to that of older and betterbred people, had

been of great advantage. Jane's labours of liveliness had annoyed Miss Agnes not a little; and more than once

she had ventured a remark on the subject; but her young relative had been too well advised, by Adeline and

her schoolcompanions, to believe that Miss Wyllys could possibly know, as well as themselves, what were

the fashionable airs and graces of the day. Since her visit to Paris, however, Jane's manner, without her being

aware of it herself, had become much more quiet and natural. During the last twelvemonth, she had not found

it necessary to make perpetual exertions to attract, or retain admirers. She had learned to look upon the

The observations of Mr. Wyllys and his daughter were not all confined to the two young travellers; they

watched the graceful movements of Elinor, and listened with interest to the gay remarks made in her pleasant

voice. She had never been in better spirits, and was evidently happy. Elinor was really attached to Jane; and

yet, never were two girls less alike, not only in person, but in mind and disposition. Jane's beauty was a great

charm, in Elinor's eyes. The homeliness of her own features only increased her admiration for those of her

cousin, who had always filled, with her, the place of a younger sister and pet, although the difference in their

ages was very trifling. If these feelings were not returned as warmly as they deserved, Elinor had never

seemed to expect that they should be; it was not in Jane's nature to do so. That Harry's arrival should have

made her happy, was, of course, only natural; she betrayed, at times, a touch of embarrassment towards him,

when Aunt Agnes had smiled too openly, or Mr. Wyllys had rallied too strongly; but it was graceful, like

Miss Agnes was well aware that the last two years had not been lost with Elinor, although passed in quiet

everyday life. She knew, from close observation, that the character of her adopted child had been gradually

approaching nearer to all she wished it to be. As the two young girls sat chatting together, Miss Wyllys could

not but mark the striking difference in their appearance; but she also felt that if Jane's loveliness were a

charm, even to her, knowing Elinor thoroughly, she loved her far more deeply for the want of beauty. But, of

The morning after Jane's arrival at WyllysRoof, the young people were engaged in one of the gay

conversations we have alluded to, when Mr. Wyllys called off Hazlehurst's attention.

"Harry, what was that clumsy contrivance about the French horses, you were describing to Van Horne, last

night? I wanted to ask you, at the time, but you began to talk with Miss Patsey. You said something about a

Harry changed his seat, for one nearer Mr. Wyllys, and began a long explanation of the harness used by the

"I have several engravings in my trunks, that will show you my meaning, sir, better than words can do."

"I should like to see them. But, are these wooden wings to the collars, as you describe them, used throughout

"We saw them wherever we went. All the carters and farmers seem to use them. They have, besides, a great

deal of clumsy, useless ornament, and they contrive to want twice as much tackle as we do."

The gentlemen continued to discuss the subject of horses and harness, Harry relating, for Mr. Wyllys's

amusement, many observations he had made, on these matters, in the different countries where he had been.

Jane had brought down, from her room, an armfull of pretty things, evidently Parisian. She had just given

"My dear Aunt," cried Elinor, "do look at this; Jane, I think we must call it a sac'bag' sounds too heavy.

Look at the materialthe finest cachemere. And then the colour, so rich and so delicate at the same time."

"That is the way with everything that comes from Paris," said Elinor; "it is always so complete; not one part

good and others clumsyor good in quality, but ugly in form and colour. The French seem to have an

"While I was upstairs, with Louisa, yesterday," said Elinor, "we talked over Paris all the morning, Aunt

Agnes. I was amused with a great deal she told me. Louisa says, there is a fitness in all that a Frenchwoman

does and says, and even in everything she wearsthat her dress is always consistentalways appropriate to

"And yet, Louisa insists upon it, that they do not bestow more time and thought upon the subject, than the

"But, she remarked, that they are never ashamed to wear a pretty thing merely because it is cheap; nor to

make themselves comfortable, by wearing thick shoes in the mud, and a coarse, warm shawl in a fog."

"No, aunt; but we have hard showers in summer, and cold weather in winter; in spite of which, you know, our

"I have often heard Madame de Bessieres praise the good sense of her countrywomen, on those subjects,"

"Louisa maintains that the Frenchwomen have a great deal of common sense; she says, that is the

foundation of their good taste; and, I suppose, after all, good taste is only good sense refined."

"I suppose it is, my dear. Louisa seems to have come back even more of a Frenchwoman than you, Jane,"

"She was so very fortunate, Aunt, in having so kind a friend in Paris, as Madame de Bessieres. Louisa

describes the de Bessieres as living in a delightful set of peopleshe mentioned half a dozen persons whom

she met habitually there, as not only amiable, and highly accomplished, and wellbred, but highprincipled,

"I can readily believe anything good of the intimate friends of Madame de Bessieres, for I never knew a

woman whose character was more worthy of respect. It was a great loss to us, when she returned to France.

"How kind in a person of Madame de Bessieres' age, to remember me! I long to see the letter she wrote me;

Robert says I shall have it, certainly, tomorrow, when all their baggage will be at Longbridge."

"Madame de Bessieres often spoke of you, Elinor," said Jane. "She bid me ask if you remembered all the pet

"Just as you forget many other things, naughty girl; I must say you are anything but a model correspondent,

"You need not tell me that," said Elinor, laughing. "But I do remember all Madame de Bessieres' kind names

very well. It was sometimes, mon lapin, mon lapin dore, mon chou, ma merethey all sounded pleasantly to

me, she spoke them so kindly. But sometimes to vex me, the other childrenMaster Harry among

othersused to translate them; and, though rabbit, and golden rabbit, sounded very well in English, I did not

{"mon lapin" = my rabbit; "mon chou" = my cabbage, a term of endearment; "dore" = golden; "ma mere" =

"Oh, yes; the young men don't trouble you to entertain them, and the girls are very goodnatured and

"Louisa seems to think the French girls are charmingso graceful, and pleasing, and modest; really

accomplished, and well educated, too, she saysall that young women ought to be."

"Yes, she says that she hopes her little girls will be as well educated as Madame de Bessieres'

"Well, I hope my little namesake may answer her mother's expectations. She is a sweet little puss now, at any

rate. Louisa was quite vexed yesterday, with Mrs. Van Horne, who asked her if the French girls were not all

artful, and hypocritical. She answered her, that, on the contrary, those she saw the most frequently, were

modest, ingenuous, and thoroughly wellprincipled in every way, besides being very accomplished. She laid

great stress on one point, the respect invariably paid by the young to the old, not only among the women, but

"Yes," observed Miss Agnes; "I remember to have heard the same remark from Madame de Bessieres; she

observed, that after having been in many different countries, she could justly claim for her own, that in no

"That agrees precisely with Louisa's opinion. She says it is a striking feature in French society, and appears

"It is a duty too little remembered in this country. It seems to be only in our very best families that the subject

"Louisa likes the manners of the men for the same reason; she says that in society they are always respectful

and obliging, whatever other agreeable or disagreeable qualities they may have. She remarked, that she had

never met with a rude Frenchman in society; but she had, repeatedly, met with rude Englishmen, in very good

"What fault, pray, did Louisa find with the Englishmen you met, Jane?" asked Miss Agnes.

"Oh, they have a way of making themselves disagreeable; now, a Frenchman never tries to be disagreeable."

"The English do, though, I assure you; at least a certain set. I don't believe any other people do. I remember

one evening, Harry was very angry with a certain Mr. Ellery, son of Lord Greystone, who used to come to

our house quite often last spring. Do you remember him, Harry?" she added, as Hazlehurst again approached

Harry coloured violently. "Oh, it was his intolerable English manner. I have known him stretch himself out

nearly full length on a sofa, on which Jane or Louisa was sitting, and stare at them, with the most sickening

"Well, until he drove you away, at any rate. I was often surprised that you could endure it as long as you did.

But happily, Louisa cooled him off after a while; though I had a strong inclination to undertake the job

"It was much better as it was; it was Louisa's place to do it," observed Miss Agnes.

"But I thought you liked the English," said Elinor, with some surprise. "You were speaking very highly of

"I do like the better sort very much. They are fine, manly fellows, as ever breathed."

"A man who does not cherish prejudice, must naturally like the best qualities and the best individuals of all

"There cannot be a doubt, that society is more agreeable in France, in Paris, than elsewhere."

"I honestly do not think them more so than the English. English simplicity often has a very artificial twist;

"I think you would find both French and English more selfish than we are. But they have different ways of

showing it. The Englishman is exclusive, and reserved; the Frenchman egotistical. Reserve may seem

dignified; but it often covers a great deal of cold selflove; while French egotismnot EGOISMEis often

mingled with much naivete and bonhommie {sic}. Both nations, however, are more selfish than the Italians,

"Well, the French generally treat Americans more civilly than the English. John Bull is very fond of giving

himself airs of superiority, after a disagreeable fashion of his own. Now a Frenchman fancies himself so

much more civilized than the rest of the world, that he has a goodnatured feeling towards everybody but

"If you are speaking of the best people in each country, however," said Mr. Wyllys; "that is not the surest way

"Not in the least; I used to think him excessively impertinent," exclaimed Harry, and as his choler rose, while

certain recollections passed through his mind, he coloured again. To change the subject, he took up the bag

"What fanciful name may belong to this piece of finery; for, of course, it is not a bag?" he asked.

"Oh, it is too useful, not to have a straightforward, common name; you may call it a sac, though, if you like.

"I dare say, there is another name; but I have forgotten it; everything has a name of its own, in Paris."

"Your table looks like a fancyshop, Aunt Agnes," continued Hazlehurst; "gloves, bags, purses, boxes,

"What sort of wood is the workbox that you chose for Miss Patsey?" asked Elinor. "I am very glad you

"Harry does not seem to have forgotten any of his friends, while in Paris," said Miss Agnes.

"It is some dark wood; not rosewood, however. It is rather plain; but a serviceablelooking box," he said.

"Here, Elinor," said Jane, "is the cape I spoke of;" and she unfolded a paper, and drew from it a piece of

muslin which had evidently received a very pretty shape, fine embroidery, and tasteful bows of riband from

some Parisian hand. "This is the one I spoke of.Is it not much prettier than any you have seen?"

Elinor received the cape from her cousin, who was unusually animated in its praises; it was held up to the

light; then laid on the table; the delicacy of the work was admired; then the form, and the ribands; and, at last,

Elinor threw it over Jane's shoulders, observing, at the same time, that it was particularly becoming to her.

Harry seemed determined not to look; and, in order to resist any inclination he may have felt, to do so, he

resolutely took up a Review, and began turning over its pages. The young ladies' admiration of the cape

lasted several minutes, and, at length, Elinor called upon the rest of the party to admire how becoming it was.

"Well, really," exclaimed Harry, looking rather cross, probably at being disturbed in his reading, "young

ladies' love of finery seems quite inexhaustible; it is sometimes incomprehensible to the duller perceptions of

"Why, you can't deny the fact, that you and Jane have been doing nothing else, all the morning, but tumble

"I beg your pardonwe have been talking quite sensibly, too; have we not, Aunt Agnes?"

"Pray observe, that the table contains something besides finery; here are some very good French and Italian

"Well, I have half a mind not to tell you, that we like the books and the music quite as well as anything here,"

said Elinor, colouring; and then, as if almost fearing that she had betrayed her feelings, she continued, in a

"Pray, remember, sir, that if finery be thrown away upon the noble sex, at the present day, it was not always

so. Let me refer you to certain kings, who, not content with studying their own dresses, have condescended to

compose those of their queens, too. Remember how many great heroesyour Turennes and

{"Turenne" = Henri de la Tour d'Auvergne, Vicomte de Turenne (16111675), a famous French military

commander; "Marlborough" = John Churchill Marlborough, Duke of Marlborough (16501722), a famous

"They were heroes, nevertheless; and, I suppose, une fois caporal, toujours caporal. But, if you prefer

something nearer to our own time, figure to yourself Horace Walpole, and General Conway, some

halfcentury since, consulting, in their correspondence, upon the particular shade of satin best suited to their

{"une foi caporal...." = once a corporal, always a corporal (French); "Walpole" = Horace Walpole

(17171797), English author; "Conway" = General Henry Conway (17211795), English general and

"There it is, in white and black!" said Elinor. "Just remember Goldsmith, strutting about Temple Gardens, in

{"Goldsmith" = Oliver Goldsmith (17301775), British author; "Temple Gardens" = in London on the

"True, I must confess," said Harry, smiling; "but that was more than fifty years ago. The world has grown

"Yesbut what is the reason?" cried Elinor, laughing herself. "You have just found out that finery, and a

showy exterior, are of no use to youthey do not increase your influence with the ladies! We do not value a

"I submit," said Harry; but he coloured, and seemed to Miss Agnes, more embarrassed by Elinor's remark

than was necessary. He threw down his book, however, and crossed the room to take a place near her.

A walk was proposed, and soon after the young people, accompanied by Bruno, set out together.

MISS PATSEY'S mother was more unwell than usual; and after breakfast the following morning, Elinor

prepared a little basket of particularly fine peaches, which she proposed carrying to Mrs. Hubbard, herself.

Harry offered to accompany her, and Jane was persuaded to join them; although in general, she disliked every

The travellers had already seen Miss Patsey and her youngest sister, and they were now so fortunate as to find

Charlie at home. He had come from New York, the evening before, and, of course, was much pleased to see

his young friends; indeed, he showed so much emotion at the meeting, as to change colour when he first saw

"Why, Charlie, you have grown in inches; as well as in dignity, since we parted," said Hazlehurst, shaking

"I shall never arrive at any great elevation either way," replied the youth, after shaking hands also with Jane.

"I don't know that; you have grown half a foot since I saw you, and you have done wonders I hear, as a

"Wonders are comparative, you know; I believe I have accomplished more, for instance, than my mother

anticipated, for she thought I was going to devote myself to signs and windowblinds."

{"windowblinds" = window shades were at this time frequently decorated with hand painted pictures}

"That is your account of the matter. But don't suppose I have not learned that Mr. Charles Hubbard is looked

upon as one of our most promising young artists, and that several of his pictures are thought the best of their

"You are very much improved in flattery by a visit to Paris," said Charlie, smiling.

"Only sober truth, as you must well know, Mr. Charles Hubbard. I hope you have something here for us to

look at; I am really very impatient to see some of your pictures. I wish you could have enjoyed half the fine

Hubbard replied that he had strong hopes of going abroad himself before long, thanks to the liberality of his

uncle, and the promise of several orders from different gentlemen. Harry congratulated him warmly, though

he regretted that Charlie should think of leaving home just as he himself returned.

The young 1adies paid their visit to Mrs. Hubbard in her bedroom, while Harry and Charlie talked over a

hundred different things together; and after engaging Charles to dine at WyllysRoof, they walked home

"Miss Patsey's parlour really looks neater and smaller than ever," observed Harry. "And I don't think I have

seen such an honest, goodnatured, pleasant face as her's, since I left Longbridge. She seems satisfied now,

"She is resigned to it, rather," said Elinor, "now that the matter is entirely settled."

"Charlie looks pale," observed Harry; "he has grown though, and he is no longer so very slight as he used to

"He seems to be well," replied Elinor; "but at times his spirits are not good. He has been much interested in

"Charlie is a right good fellow," said Harry; "I was in hopes to see a great deal of him, this winter." At this

moment Jane dropped a glove; of course Harry picked it up, and he continued silent after doing so.

"There, you see, is Mr. Taylor's new house," observed Elinor, as an opening in a grove of young trees

Jane looked at the home of her friend Adeline with interestHarry exclaimed, "What architecture!"

"Don't abuse it," said Elinor, "for I assure you 'Mr. Taylor's splendid mansion''Mr. Taylor's magnificent

Just as the party reached the piazza of WyllysRoof, Mr. Taylor's barouche drove up to the door, and in an

instant Miss Adeline Taylor had thrown herself, and her fashionable morningdress, into Jane's arms.

"I was so glad to find you were staying here!" she exclaimed. "Pa and I only arrived from Saratoga last night;

"We had a very short passage for the season," said Jane, returning the embrace quite cordially.

"We seem to have taken all our friends rather by surprise, Miss Taylor," said Harry.

"Well, if I had been in your place, I should have staid in Paris till the last minute;though, I dare say, YOU

were in a hurry to get back to Longbridge, Mr. Hazlehurst; no doubt you wanted to see ME very much. Put I

Harry looked a little embarrassed, and Jane, too, coloured a little; though there seemed to be no very good

"Did you find Saratoga pleasant, this summer, Miss Taylor?" asked Elinor, drawing a chair near the bench

"Oh, delightful!Every house full, from the cellar to the garret. How often I wished for you, Jane! if it was

only earlier in the season I would make pa take us there again, just for the pleasure of showing off your new

"We need not inquire who was the belle," said Elinor; "such important news reaches even sober,

"Oh, we had half a dozen bellesall lively, pretty girls. There was a young gentleman, from Savannah, at

Congress Hall, who wrote some verses about us, and called us the 'Chime of Bells;' it was a sort of imitation

of 'Those Evening Bells,' and was published in the Saratoga papers. But if Jane had been there, I don't think

{"Those Evening Bells," popular song by the Irish poet Thomas Moore (17791852), arranged by Sir John

"Certainly; with her trunks full of things from Paris, she would have carried all before her."

"I don't think Jane has brought a very large share of finery with her," said Elinor.

"No, indeed," said Harry; "only five trunks and three boxes, which I had the honour of getting through the

"You would have needed a large supply, I can tell you, Jane," said Miss Adeline, "if you had wanted to

outdash us; for we determined this season, some halfdozen of us, to outdo the young ladies who were

"To be sure we did. We made a firm resolve not only to change our dress six times every day, but never to

wear the same dress twice. We drove several families away by that manoeuvre; but you have no idea what

fun it was to us, who entered into the spirit of the thing. For two days, though, we were in great trepidation.

There were a couple of Baltimore girls there, great dashers, who would not enter into our agreement; and the

"Why, they came down to breakfast in a white dress; after breakfast they would drive in another, of course;

then they would show themselves in the drawingroom, after driving, in a pink muslin, perhaps; at dinner,

they wore another; then after dinner, they would change again; in the evening they wore partydresses, of

course; and after they went up stairs, they would visit each other in what they called dress nightwrappers.

"To be sure it was. Changing six times was no more than was necessary; all we 'evening bells' did, was never

to wear the same dress twice. Would you believe it, after putting such a bold face on the matter, the third day

they disappeared suddenly! We had a good crow, I can tell you. There was a poor little innocent there, at the

same time, from Boston, who tried to beat us on another tack, as Lieut. Johnson said; they called her the

bluebell. Well, she never changed her dress, morning, noon, or nightand just to spite us. But, dear me, we

only laughedwe didn't care a fig for her; although she was very pretty, she couldn't get a man to speak to

her, excepting one old fossil Professor, who wore spectacles, and walked up and down with her on the piazza

"Certainly not. But I can tell you, that after we had been there a week, two of the Chime were in great danger,

and one of them no less a person than your humble servant; the other was Anne HunterJane, you

remember Anne Hunter, who was at Mrs. G's with us? Well, Anne and I were in great trouble, one

"Well, mind now, you never mention it; but, Anne and I got down to our last dozen dresses, and we were

pledged to stay a week longer. This was Monday, and on Thursday there was to be a picnic, given expressly

to the Chime of Bells. At first, I thought I was the only one in such a deplorable state; but, happily, I

discovered that Anne, whose room was next to mine, was no better off. And now, how do you suppose we

"To tell the truth, I sat down and cried; for I am highspirited, and I could not bear the thoughts of such a

"Anne had a plan that carried all off triumphantly. She proposed to me, to persuade the other three 'evening

bells,' that to do honour to the picnic, we should be dressed alike, in a sort of uniform. Well, of course, the

others agreed; but then, how to find the five dresses alike! Of course, we couldn't wear anything made in

Saratoga. The poet had entreated us, in a sonnet, to be all dressed in white; so we fixed upon white

"Oh! it was beautifully done,Anne proposed we should all write an advertisement for a trusty escort to

New York, and post it up on the curtains of the ladies' drawingroom. What fun we had, while we were

writing the advertisements! We took an opportunity, when we and our beaux had the drawingroom to

ourselves, to vote the gentlemen out of it. After a while, they went; but, what do you suppose the wretches

"Yes; to spite us, they crowded to the windows on the piazza, till we dropped the blinds. Well, for a time, we

thought we were safe; but suddenly Anne Hunter shouted out, and there comfortably seated in a tree close to

the end window, where the blind was broken, we saw one of the young gentlemen with a notebook in his

hand! We vowed we wouldn't be defeated, so we pinned up our pockethandkerchiefs together, and,

"Your perseverance, under such obstacles, was truly surprising, Miss Taylor;" said Hazlehurst.

"Was it not? We soon wrote our advertisements. Mine was very short: 'Wanted, an agreeable youth, as escort

between this and New York, apply this evening, at five o'clock.' Some were very long and ridiculous; one

was in verse. Well, after we had written them, we opened the doors and windows, and the young gentlemen

flocked in again. Then we went in procession, and pinned them up on the curtains. Such a time as we

hadtalking and gigglingwe were in such a gale, that, at last, some of the married ladies came out to see

what was the matter. But, the best fun of all, was choosing our escorts; a great many offered, and then we

"Oh, yes.I took Mr. Hunter, Anne's brother. Well, sure enough, we all set out together, the next morning;

staid one day in the city; and, Thursday morning, we reappeared with the dresses. Of course, Anne and I had

taken the opportunity to get a fresh supply, besides the white batiste. We had a most delightful picnic. I

forgot to say, that Anne's escort, the Marquis Foletti, was missing; she had to do without himshe gave him

up for lost, or absconded, and we allowed her to choose another beauwhen suddenly, just as we were

mourning over the Marquis, he appeared on the ground, and threw himself on his knees, and made us laugh

more than ever. Anne had chosen him, because he had the handsomest moustaches at Saratoga; but he could

not speak English very well, and had got on board the wrong boat. What times we had! Jane, I wish you had

"Your faithful esquires were rewarded, no doubt, by the gallantry of the deed itself, Miss Taylor," said Harry.

"Of course; but we nevertheless gave them, besides, full permission to say and do just what they pleased, all

that dayand you can't think how much nonsense we talked. Each gentleman took the advertisement of the

lady he had escorted, and pinned it over his heart. There were several foreigners there, and you can't think

how they enjoyed it; they had never had such a frolic with young ladies before, and they thought it delightful;

though, to be sure, they got at last to be rather too free; and then we had to put a stop to it."

Elinor looked at Jane, to see if she seemed to sympathize in Adeline's story; but her cousin's beautiful face

was still bright with the glow of pleasure from meeting her friend; no other thought or feeling was to be

"Not exactly.They have a pleasantry of their own, however, which is quite agreeable."

"I don't think I should like it. They say, a young lady dares not speak to gentlemen, nor walk with them, nor

"But the French girls do talk to gentlemen, I assure you," replied Jane, "only they are not intimate with

everybody. The young men are very attentive, too; they treat young girls with much more respect, Louisa

"Who cares for respect! I want to laugh and amuse myself, and have my own way," exclaimed Adeline.

"It is growing quite warm hereyou will find it pleasanter in the drawingroom, Miss Taylor;" said Elinor,

"Well, if you please, I'll run up to Jane s room, and look at the fashionsI am dying to see some of her capes

and collars. Bythebye, I had forgotten two very important things. Here is a note for your aunt, Miss Elinor;

some private communication from Ma; the coachman will take the answer. And then, I came over to ask you

all to drink tea with us, this evening, very sociably; nobody but your own family and three or four friends!"

"Good morning, Mr. Hazlehurst; I expect to be shut up with Jane, for three hours to come; I have really

talked myself out of breath; but that is always the way, with me, as you know, of old." And the two girls,

handinhand, ran lightly up stairs, where Elinor, making an excuse of Mrs. Taylor's note, left them to a

"Trade his delight and hope; and, if alive, Doubt I have none, that Barnaby will thrive." CRABBE.

{William Cowper (English poet, 17311800), "Hope" lines 201210. George Crabbe (English poet,

WE have really been very remiss in omitting so long to notice the rapid strides with which Mr. Pompey

Taylor had advanced on the road to fame and fortune, during the two years in which we have lost sight of

him. He might have addressed, to the reader, the remark that the Emperor Napoleon applied to his secretary,

after the conquest of Prussia and Austria: "J'ai fait des progres immenses depuis que Bourienne {sic} m'a

{"J'ai fait des..." = I have made immense progress since Bourienne left me! LouisAntoine Fauvelet de

Bourrienne (17691834) was a French diplomat who served as Napoleon's private secretary during his

It is a rule, in composition, it was so, at least, when people wrote by rule, to compare the little with the great.

If we were to follow the direction, it would be easy to prove that these two individuals, the conqueror,

Napoleon, and the speculator, Taylor, were not too widely separated for many points of resemblance to be

traced between them. Ambition was the ruling passion of both; and both were alike insatiable. Bonaparte

added kingdom to kingdom; Taylor, house to house; the emperor might believe himself equal to ruling half

the world; the merchant felt capable of owning the other half. The one raised army after army; the other fitted

out vessel after vessel. The energies of both were inexhaustible, and both aimed at an everreceding goal;

while each, in his own way, soon reached a height never dreamed of by the mothers who rocked their cradles.

Nor would it be justice to Mr. Taylor, to suppose, that the love of money, alone, was the mainspring of his

actions; he, too, was spurred on by the love of glory; dollars and cents were not the end, with him; he looked

upon his thousands, in gold and paper, as Napoleon did upon his thousands in flesh and bloodthey were

but the instruments which were to open the road to fame. The man of commerce, and the man of war, were

alike lavish of their treasures, when the object of their lives was in view. If one was the boldest of generals,

the other was the most enterprising of merchants; and Fortune favoured the daring of both. In short, Mr.

Taylor was no common, plodding trader, content with moderate gains and safe investments, and fixing his

hopes on probabilitieshe pursued traffic with the passion of a gambler, united to the close calculation of a

There are merchants, who, by their education, their integrity, their talents and their liberality, are an honour to

the profession; but Mr. Pompey Taylor was not of the number. We have all heard the anecdote of the young

man addicted to the sin of swearing, whose conversation, during dinner, was taken down in shorthand, and,

when read afterwards, shocked the individual himself. Could the thoughts and words of Mr. Taylor, during a

single day, have been as fairly registered, perhaps he himself would have been astonished to find how very

large a portion of them were given to gain and speculation, in some shape or other. At social meetings,

whether dinners or evening parties, he seldom talked long on any other subject: he has been known to utter

the word 'stocks,' just as he entered a church, on Sunday; while a question about certain lots was the first

sentence which passed his lips, as he crossed the threshold on his way out. Eating his meals under his own

roof; walking down Broadway to WallStreet, every morning, at nine o'clock, and back again every

afternoon at three; still the echo of Mr. Taylor's thoughts and words was 'dollars,' 'stocks,' and 'lots'' lots,'

'stocks,' and 'dollars.' He had a value for everything in dollarshis jokes turned upon stocksand his

dreams were filled with lots. Let it not be supposed, however, that Mr. Pompey Taylor was born with the

phrenological organ of the love of money more strongly developed than other human beings. By no means.

He was endowed by nature with faculties and feelings as varied as other men. But, from the time he could

first walk and talk, precept and example had gradually turned all his faculties in one direction; for, such had

been the opinions and views of his father and elder brothers; and there was no other impulse in his nature or

education, sufficiently strong to give a different bent to his energies. Under other circumstances, Pompey

Taylor might have been a quickwitted lawyer, a supple politician, a daring soldier, or, with a different moral

training, he might have been something far superior to either; but the field of commerce was the only one that

opened to him, at his entrance into life; and it was too well adapted to the man, such as nature and education

had made him, to be neglected. He found full scope, in such a sphere, for all his energies of body and

{"phrenological" = from the pseudoscience of phrenology, which interpreted character by feeling the bulges

Mr. Taylor had forgotten, if he had ever known the fact, that the best pleasures of this world even, are those

which money cannot purchase, the severest wants those which it cannot supply. He had no conception of any

consideration equal to that which riches give. Beauty unadorned was no beauty in his eyes; and he chiefly

valued talent as a means of making good investments and wily speculations. He looked upon Science as the

handmaiden of Commerce; Armies and Navies existed only to defend a nation's wealth, not its liberties, or

its honour. The seat of his patriotism was in his pocket; and the only internal improvement in which he was

interested, was that which opened new facilities for acquiring money. It is surprising how totally such a mind

becomes unfitted to enjoy and admire any great or noble quality in the abstract; in spite of a quick wit and

keen organs, such men become the most onesided beings, perhaps, in the whole human family. To moral

beauty Mr. Taylor seemed quite blind; his mental vision resembled the physical sight of those individuals

whose eyes, though perfect in every other respect, are incapable of receiving any impression of an object

tinged with bluethe colour of the heavens. Even the few ideas he had upon religious subjects partook of the

character of loss and gain; the simple spirit of true piety could never enter into a mind in the state of his. And

yet, Mr. Taylor was looked upon as a happy man. Fortunate he certainly was, for wealth and luxury had risen

around him almost as readily as if possessed of Aladdin's lamp. Had he been actually in possession of this gift

of the genii, he could scarcely have found a wish to gratify, as money had already provided him with all it can

supply in this country, and the pursuit of wealth itself was his delight. Deprived of this, Othello's occupation

{"Othello's occupation were gone" = William Shakespeare, "Othello", III.iii.358}

Justice to Mr. Taylor would require that we should follow him to the countinghouse, for it was there that he

appeared in the most brilliant light. His talents were undoubted; his sagacity, his skill, and his daring were

great; and his undertakings were generally successful. Thus far all appeared very well; but those who looked

closer into the matter would have found that his integrity was anything but unimpeachable, his love of money

far surpassing his love of truth and justice. This part of his career must be left, however, to other hands; it is

only what he was in social and domestic life, that the merchant appears among our Longbridge friends.

The first few months after he had removed to New York, the utmost extent of Mr. Taylor's ambitious dreams

had been the possession of a brick house in Broadway, on a lot of ground twentythree feet by seventy.

According to the favourite rule of New York architecture, the rule of three, the building was to be three

stories high, and three windows wide. But the end of the first ninety days in WallStreet, brought an

accession of several thousands, and the brilliant promise of so many more, that this plan was enlarged several

inches each way. As every succeeding season brought an increase of wealth and ambition, the projected

dwelling grew at last to be taller and broader by several feet, until, at length, it had reached the limits which

magnificence usually attains on the island of Manhattan. Had Mr. Taylor built his house in Philadelphia, or

almost any other American town, he might have laid rather a broader foundation for his habitation; but New

York houses, as a rule, are the narrowest and the tallest in the land. Some of those threestory dwellings,

however, whatever may be their architectural defects, contain inmates who are as much to be desired for

friends as any others in the world. But to return to Mr. Taylor's new house; we have said that it was one of the

proud few which could boast its four stories and its four windows. He was perfectly satisfied with the result

when finished, for his house from the garret to the cellar was a faithful copy of one opposite to him, which

The American people may have been perfectly original in their constitution, but in most other respects they

are particularly imitative. An observer, at a first glance, wonders that so much cleverness should be wasted in

mere imitation; but it is, after all, the simple result of the position of the country. An intelligent people, we

are furnished by books with more ideas than we have models on which to shape them. In an old state of

society, there is always a class who labour after originality, and are proud to be called eccentric; but a young

nation, cut off from the rest of the civilized world, must necessarily be imitative in its character until it has

arrived at maturity. This spirit of imitation, to a certain extent an advantage, is, to be sure, often carried to a

laughable extent when it loses sight of common sense. People seem to forget the fact that propriety must

always be the first step to true elegance. As a proof of it, we see men who appear to have consulted their

neighbours' tastes, habits, and means, instead of their own, in building the house they themselves are to

inhabit; like Mr. Taylor, without any very good reason, they imitate their opposite neighbour. Again, it is

surprising to see what time and toil are spent in following every variation of fashion in dress, by many

women who certainly can ill afford it; we do not mean fashion in its general outlines, but in its most trifling

details. If one could watch the progress of an idle fancy of this nature, from the moment it springs from the

caprice of some European elegante, with more time and money than she knows how to throw away, until it

becomes a necessity to an American housemaid, earning a dollar a weekwe have no doubt the period

The habit of imitation just alluded to, is more striking perhaps in architecture than in anything else, for in that

shape it is always before our eyes; and no place in the country is more marked with it than New York. In no

town in he world are there as many dwellings so much alike; and this fact is not the result of necessity, or of

any plan of architectural unityit is not that the plan first hit upon proved to be the most rational, or best

suited to the spot and its inhabitantsbut it is chiefly the consequence of a spirit of imitation.

To return to our story: this new house of Mr. Taylor, this successful imitation of his opposite neighbour, had

been opened the first of May, the general moving day in New York. It was fitted up in the richest manner,

young Taylor having received carte blanche from his father to purchase handsome furniture in Paris.

Rosewood and satin, gilt bronzes and Sevres vases, were all of the best kindand Mr. Taylor was perfectly

satisfied with the effect of his two drawingrooms. It was determined they should be shown off during the

following winter, by a succession of dinners and parties. He had already tried his hand at entertaining; after

having eaten a dozen great dinners with different commercial notabilities, he had given one himself just

before leaving town. The affair, a mandinner, of course, had gone off brilliantlythanks to his beautiful

porcelaine de Sevres, his candelabras and his epergnes, his English plate and English glass; all of which

showed off to great advantage the best of the good things abounding in the New York market, cooked by a

Frenchman, and washed down by wines from the most famous vineyards of France, Germany, and Spain. His

entertainment was pronounced as handsome as any given that winter in town; and Mr. Taylor determined that

{"general moving day" = in New York City, at this time, leases for the rental of houses generally expired on

May 1; "porcelaine de Sevres" = expensive chinaware from the French town of Sevres; "epergne" = an

His countryhouse rivalled his establishment in town. By his first plan, he had intended that it should equal

that of Mr. Hubbard, at Longbridge; but eighteen months had made a material change in his affairs, which

produced corresponding alterations in the building. First one large wing was added, then another; Mr.

Hubbard's house had but one Corinthian portico, Mr. Taylor's had two. He was born in a house which had

been painted only on one front, and he was now of the opinion of the old tar, who purchased a handsome

jacket like his commanding officer, but ordered the back as well as the front to be made of satin, and meeting

the admiral, pulled up his coattails to show that there was "no sham." Mr. Taylor could not outdo the

plateglass, and mahogany doors of Mr. Hubbard's house, but he had great satisfaction in showing him his

portico on the south front, and in proving there was no sham. When the wings were added, they were

completely surrounded on three sides by a colonnade. Mr. Taylor having happened, just at the moment, to

make thirty thousand dollars by one successful speculation, he sent orders to the masterbuilder for a double

set of columns; and as a consequence, the colonnade was so very conspicuous that it became the pride of the

neighbourhood. Mr. Taylor, himself, was so much struck with the first view, when completed, that he decided

to name the place "Colonnade Manor." There is no accounting for taste in names, we suppose, any more than

in other matters. Like No. five hundred and Broadway, Colonnade Manor was furnished with

Mrs. Taylor, good soul, entered very little into the spirit of this magnificence. She still sat in her nursery with

her younger children as much as possible, darning all the stockings of the family; an occupation which

Adeline thought very ungenteel, for she never condescended to use her needle at all. To make Mrs. Taylor a

fine lady had been one of the least successful of Mr. Taylor's efforts; she was much too honest by nature to

assume a character for which she was so little qualified. There was but one way in which she could succeed

in interesting herself in all the parade which gratified Mr. Taylor's taste; she found it gave pleasure to her

husband and children, and she endeavoured to make the best of it. She wore the fine dresses purchased for her

by Adeline, and drove out once in a while in her handsome carriage, to pay at least a few of the many visits

urged by Mr. Taylor. Among the new acquaintances she had made in the last ten years, there were few Mrs.

Taylor liked as well as Miss Wyllys; and Miss Agnes, in her turn, respected all that was honest and

straightforward in the character of her new neighbour; indeed, the whole family at WyllysRoof very much

preferred her to the more pretending husband and daughter. The note, of which Adeline was the bearer, was

an application to Miss Wyllys for advice in some domestic difficulty. It ran as follows:

"You have been so kind to me, ever since we moved into your neighbourhood, that I hope you will excuse me

for asking your assistance, this morning. I have been a good deal plagued in my kitchen ever since we came

into the country this spring. My cook and chambermaid, who are sisters, are always finding some excuse for

wanting to go to the city; and last night they got a letter, or pretended to get one from New York, saying that

their father was very sick; and as I didn't know but it might be true, I couldn't refuse them, and they have

gone for a weekthough I won't be sure it was not for a mere frolic. As it happened, Mr. Taylor and Adeline

came back from Saratoga, last night, and brought a housefull of company with them; an old friend of mine

whom I had not seen for years, and some new acquaintances of Adeline's. To make matters worse, my nurse,

a faithful, good girl, who has lived with me for years, was taken sick this morning; and John, the waiter, had a

quarrel with the coachman, and went off in a huff. You know such things always come together. So I have

now only the coachman and his daughter, a little girl of twelve, in the house; happily they are both willing,

and can do a little of everything. If you know of anybody that I can find to take the place of cook, or

housemaid, I shall be truly obliged to you for giving the coachman their names and directions.

"Adeline is to have a little party this evening; she met several of our Longbridge friends on board the boat

yesterday, and took that opportunity of asking them, as she is very anxious to make the house pleasant to her

company. I dare say she has already invited all your family, and I shall be very sorry if you are not able to

Miss Wyllys had no sooner read the note, than, full of sympathy for Mrs. Taylor's difficulties, she held a

consultation with her female factotum, Elinor's nurse, or Mammy as she was called. All the men, women, and

children in the neighbourhood, who might possibly possess some qualifications for the duties of cook,

chambermaid, or footman, were run over in Miss Agnes' mind; and she succeeded at last, by including one

superannuated old woman, and another child of ten, in making out a list of some dozen names for her

neighbour's benefit. The whole morning was spent by the coachman, scouring the country with the Taylor

barouche and horsesfor no time was to be spent in changing harnessin pursuit of Dianthy This, and

Araminty That. Mrs. Taylor, of course, awaited his return with trembling anxiety; the Saratoga party had

gone off to fish, escorted by Mr. Taylor and a younger daughter; Adeline having taken that opportunity to go

to see Jane, excusing herself from accompanying the fishing set, on account of the arrival of this very

intimate friend of hers. The mistress of the house, after having administered a dose of medicine to the sick

nurse, and sent the little girl of twelve to make the beds and sweep, gave one melancholy look at things in the

kitchen, and then remembered that she could no longer leave this particular old friend of her's alone in the

drawingroom. While talking over past times, Mrs. Taylor chose a rockingchair commanding a view of the

approach to the house: just at the moment when she began to fear the horses had run away, killed the

coachman, and broken the carriage, she saw the barouche driving up the avenue, but, alas, sans cook! She

kept her seat womanfully, and heard out the end of a long story which the old friend was relating about a

family of relations. But at length Mrs. Taylor found that the moment for action had come; and giving her

friend the choice of her own knittingwork, or a walk in the garden with her youngest child, a pretty prattling

little boy, she excused herself for a few moments, under pretext of looking after the sick nurse. The old friend

was quite a talkative person, and one to whom a listener was very necessary; she preferred the little boy to the

"Yes, marm; I have got a list here; but some of 'em had got places already; there was two that was sick; one,

Araminty Carpenter, I guess, would have suited Mrs. Taylor very well, for, I know the young woman's father;

but she has gone over to Longbridge, to work at the Union Hotel, for a week. There was one name written so

I couldn't make it out; and two of 'em I couldn't find; folks couldn't tell me where they lived. There is a young

thing down at the Mill, who looks handy, but doesn't know anything of cooking; but, I engaged her to come

"She couldn't come, no ways, till tomorrow; she was washing; and, if she left the work, there was no one to

Let it not be supposed that Mrs. Taylor sunk under these difficulties. The fishingparty returned; and, by

means known only to herself, the coachman, and the little girl of twelve, a dinner, much as usual, was

provided for her guests, who were left in happy ignorance of the desertion in the kitchen.

It must be surprising, to those unaccustomed to such things, to observe with what courage and cheerfulness

the mistress of an American family encounters the peculiar evils of her lotevils undreamt of by persons in

the same station in any other part of the world. Her energies seem to rise with the obstacles that call them out;

she is full of expedientsfull of activity; and, unless fairly worn out by exertion for which she has not the

physical strength, always manages to keep up appearances, and provide for the comfort of her household,

until her troubles are surmounted, for the time being, and she gathers strength, in a moment of respite, for

fresh difficulties, when they present themselves. Even her husband and sons are seldom aware of her toils and

vexations. Many people are ignorant of the number of virtues that are included, at such moments, in that of

hospitality; could a plain, unvarnished account, be made out, of the difficulties surmounted, at some time or

other, by most American matrons, the world would wonder at their fortitude and perseverance. Not that

difficulties like those of our friend, Mrs. Taylor, are of constant duration, but they occur oftener than the

uninitiated are aware of. Yet even obstacles like these seem never to interfere with that constant intercourse,

from teaparties to visits of weeks, which are exchanged between all American families and their friends. But

then no people in the world are more truly hospitablenone are more social in their feelings, than the

"Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in the

OF course, nothing interfered with the party at Colonnade Manor. Thanks to Mrs. Taylor, the coachman and

the little girl of twelvequite a womanly, precocious, little thing, bythewayall went off very well.

Some curious person, uninitiated in similar domestic mysteries, may wish to know how things were managed

at such a trying crisis. Well, in the first place, Mrs. Taylor congratulated herself that her guests had been

asked to 'spend the evening,' and not invited 'to tea.' This was a piece of good luck, which diminished her

cares, and prevented the deep mortification she must have felt had the tea and coffee been cold. The

coachman, of course, officiated as footman; a duty to which he was already somewhat accustomed. The little

girl of twelve began the evening as ladies'maid, appearing in the dressingroom in that capacity, helping the

ladies to take off their shawls and smooth the folds of their dresses, before they made their entrance in the

drawingrooms. The company soon collectedabout fifty or sixty persons, altogetherand in party dress;

each having been invited quite sociably, by Miss Adeline. They were not at all surprised to see each other,

however, for they had often already practised the same agreeable deception, themselves. The company once

assembled, the little girl of twelve rolled up her sleeves, and took her station in the pantry, where she

replenished the cakebaskets, the lemonade and sangareeglasses handed about by her father, the coachman.

A supper table was already spread in the diningroom; it had been very prettily ornamented with flowers by

Adeline, and her Saratoga friends; and a plentiful supply of fruits, ices, jellies, syllabubs, creams, and other

delicacies for a light supper, had been prepared, in the course of the morning, by Mrs. Taylor and her

coadjutors, the coachman and the little girl of twelve. The talkative old friend had been admitted behind the

scenes so far, as to learn that the mistress of the house would be obliged to make all the good things herself;

and she had shown that, besides telling a long story, she could make very excellent spongecake; for,

unfortunately, it was discovered that it would be necessary to increase the supply of that delicacy. Adeline did

her share; while her Saratoga friends were taking a morning siesta, with a novel in their hands, she had made

the syllabub, and prepared the fruit. These arrangements having been made, the little girl of twelve had

received orders to station herself near at hand, where she could be sent of {sic} errands up and down stairs.

The coachman was told to take his place by the sidetable, ready to be called upon, if necessary. Mrs. Taylor

herselfalas! that we should be obliged to reveal the fact, expected to slip out of the drawingroom at about

halfpast ten, and superintend the delicate operation of removing the jellies from their moulds; this would

require ten minutes to do, and she hoped to make her exit and ingress unnoticed; a matter easily managed, in

summer, when the doors and windows are all open, and couples arminarm, are loitering about, in and out

in all directions. This task performed, when she had returned to the public notice, some ten minutes after

having seen everything in its place, the coachman was expected to appear at the drawingroom door, with

composed manner, to announce that supper was readya fact she was prepared to hear with the expression

of sublime indifference, required by etiquette. From that moment, everything would become easy; for, of

course, the gentlemen would, as usual, take care of the ladies first, and then help themselves. The gallant way

in which these light, standing suppers are always managed, among us, is, bythebye, a pleasant and sensible

arrangement; nothing better could be devised, under the circumstances. The plan of operations thus sketched,

{"sangaree" = a cold drink of flavored, diluted wine; "syllabub" = a drink of milk and wine}

The evening was pronounced very pleasant; and, as several of our friends were present, we shall follow them.

There was a great deal of talking and laughing; a reasonable quantity of flirtation; and, once or twice, some

romping in the corner of the room where Miss Adeline happened to be at the time. Among those who had

excused themselves from accepting the invitation, were Mr. and Mrs. Robert Hazlehurst, who disliked the

idea of going so far, and Mr. and Mrs. Graham, the lady being detained at home by a headach {sic}, the

gentleman by a particular dislike to Mr. Taylor, who, he thought, had behaved in an ungentlemanly manner

about a mortgage, in which they both happened to be interested. Mr. Graham was a man of a violent temper,

and unsocial habits, generally taking little pains to conceal his feelings; and accordingly, his manner to Mr.

Taylor was anything but flattering, though their acquaintance, at best, was but trifling. Mrs. Graham also

disliked the whole family; and yet the intimacy between Jane and Adeline was allowed to continue, as a sort

Miss Wyllys accompanied her niece to the partyshe generally made it a point to go with Elinor; for, she

had oldfashioned notions on the subject, and thought that the presence of their elders was an advantage and

a protection that welleducated young girls have a right to expect from their friends. She seldom spoke on the

matter, however, but contented herself with giving, what she thought, a good example. Both Miss Agnes and

Elinor were rather surprised to find that Jane's partiality for her giddy friend Adeline, had not been in the least

diminished, by her visit to Europe. Miss Wyllys disapproved of the intimacy; but, as Jane's mother had no

objections, she herself could say nothing. The two young ladies were a great deal together, in the course of

the evening, as became bosomfriends after a long separation. Mrs. Taylor's old friend, the talkative lady,

was introduced to several of the elder portion of the company, and was thus happily provided with listeners.

Miss Adeline's fashionable acquaintances from Saratoga, were also supplied, each with a couple of attendant

beaux, upon whom to try the effect of their charms. Everything thus happily arranged, Miss Adeline proposed

a 'march' which was managed as usual. Young Van Horne, who had some musical capabilities, was placed at

the piano, and played Washington's March, when the young people paired off in a line, and began to walk,

moving in time up and down the two drawingrooms, through the foldingdoorseach gentleman, of

course, offering his arm to a lady; chaque chacun, avec sa chacune. Adeline was not quite satisfied with her

cavalier, Charlie Hubbard; she did not care much about him, at any time; and, on the present occasion, he

seemed less interested in listening to her own conversation, than in watching the movements of some one

"Charlie blushed a little, rallied, and devoted himself more exclusively to the duty of being entertained. After

the second or third turn in the march, Adeline discovered Hazlehurst, who, instead of being in motion with

the rest, was leaning in a doorway. As she passed him, she snapped her embroidered handkerchief in that

direction, and summoned him to join the 'promenade.' Harry excused himself by saying, he was afraid he

"How can you talk so! There is Miss Wyllys, I declare; I had not seen her before."And Adeline crossed the

room to a window where Elinor was sitting quietly as a lookeron, having just escaped from a long

"Would you like to walk?" quietly asked Hazlehurst, who had followed Miss Taylor.

"No, indeed," said Elinor, smiling and shaking her head goodnaturedly. "I have had one long walk, already,

"You should follow Jane's example; you see, she is promenading, and, I dare say, she took the walk with you,

"Did you ever know Jane take a long walk, when she could help it?" asked Elinor, smiling. "I had really

Adeline, finding that on this occasion she could not succeed in setting all her friends in motion, which she

generally endeavoured to do, returned to the ranks; leaving Elinor to do as she chose. Hazlehurst took a seat

by her, and made some inquiries about several of their old acquaintances in the room.

"Don't you think those two young ladies both very pretty, Mr. Hazlehurst," said Dr. Van Horne, approaching

the spot where Harry was standing near Elinor, after having given up his chair to one of the Saratoga belles,

"Yes," replied Hazlehurst, "Miss Taylor is even prettier than I had supposed she would be."

"She will not compare, however, with Miss Jane. To my mind, Miss Graham answers the idea of perfect

beauty. In all your travels, did you meet with a face that you thought more beautiful?"

"I believe not," said Harry, laconically, and slowly colouring at the same time.

"Is it Jane you were speaking of, Doctor?" inquired Elinor, turning towards him. "Don't you think she has

come back twice as beautiful as she was last year? It is really a pleasure to look at a face like hers."

"I am afraid, it will prove rather a dangerous pleasure, Miss Elinor, to some of the beaux, this winter."

"No doubt she will be very much admired; but she takes it all very quietly. I don't believe your great beauties

"Perhaps not;" replied the doctor, drawing near her. "A great deal depends on education. But what do the

"Oh, we have only gone as far as the first chapter of their travels," she replied. "They have not half said their

"Well, I should like to have a talk with you on the subject, Mr. Hazlehurst. I was in hopes of meeting your

brother here, tonight, but he has not come, I find; I shall have to bore you with my questions, unless you

"Thank you. Suppose we improve the opportunity, Miss Elinor, and give him a sharp crossexamination; do

"I hope so," said Elinor, smiling quietly, as if she felt very easy on the subject.

"Don't trust him too far. I dare say you have not been half severe enough upon him," said Dr. Van Horne,

who had a very high opinion of Harry. "But to speak seriously, Mr. Hazlehurst, I don't at all like a notion my

"I doubt if it is at all an advantage to send most young men to Europe. I've seen so many come back

conceited, and dissatisfied, and goodfornothing, that I can't make up my mind to spoil Ben by the same

process. He tries very hard to persuade me, that nowadays, no doctor is fit to be trusted who has not

"You must know much more than I do on that subject, doctor," said Hazlehurst, taking a seat on the other side

"Of course, I know more about the hospitals. But as I have never been abroad myself, I don't know what

effect a sight of the Old World has on one. It seems to me it ruins a great many young fellows."

"I am by no means so sure of that. It improves some, I grant you; but I think the chances are that it is an

injury. We have happened to see a great deal, lately, of two young chaps, nephews of mine, who came home

last spring. Three years ago they went abroad, sober, sensible, wellbehaved lads enough, and now they have

both come back, worse than goodfornothing. There was Rockwell, he used to be a plain, straightforward,

smoothfaced fellow; and now he has come home bristling with whiskers, and beard, and moustaches, and a

cut across the forehead, that he got in a duel in Berlin. Worse than all, his brain is so befogged, and mystified,

that he can't see anything straight to save his life; and yet, forsooth, my gentleman is going to set the nation to

"I know nothing of the German Universities, doctor, from my own observation; but I should think it might be

a dangerous thing to send a young man there unless he was well supplied with sound common sense of his

"Well, there is Bill Hartley, again, who staid all the time in Paris. He has come back a regular grumbler. If

you would believe him, there is not a single thing worth having, from one end of the Union to the other. He is

disgusted with everything, and only last night said that our climate wants fog! Now, I think it is much better

to go plodding on at home, than to travel for the sake of bringing back such enlarged views as make yourself

"But it is a man's own fault, my dear sir, if he brings back more bad than good with him. The fact is, you will

generally find the good a man brings home, in proportion to the good he took abroad."

"I'm not so sure of that. I used to think Rockwell was quite a promising young man at one time. But that is

not the question. If, after all, though it does sharpen a man's wits, it only makes him discontented for the rest

of his life, I maintain that such a state of improvement is not to be desired. If things are really better and

pleasanter in Europe, I don't want to know it. It would make me dissatisfied, unless I was to be a renegade,

"Never!" said Harry. "I hold that it is a sort of desertion, to give up the post where Providence has placed us,

unless in extreme cases; and I believe a man can live a more useful and more honourable life there than

elsewhere. But I think travelling a very great advantage, nevertheless. The very power of comparison, of

which you complain, is a source of great intellectual pleasure, and must be useful if properly employed, since

The doctor shook his head. "I want you just to tell me how much of this grumbling and faultfinding is

conceit, and how much is the natural consequence of travelling? Is everything really superior in Europe to

"Everything? No;" said Harry, laughing. But you would seem to think a man dissatisfied, doctor, if he did

not, on the contrary, proclaim that everything is immeasurably better in this country than in any other on the

"Ah, you are shifting your ground, young gentleman. But we shall bring you to the point presently. Now tell

us honestly, were you not disappointed with the looks of things when you came back?"

"If by disappointed, you mean that many things as I see them now, strike me as very inferior to objects of the

same description in Europe, I do not scruple to say they do. When I landed, I said to myself,

"'The streets are narrow and the buildings mean; Did I, or fancy, have them broad and clean?'"

{George Crabbe (English poet, 17541832), "Posthumous Tales: Tale VIThe Farewell and Return", Part

"I feared so!" and the doctor looked much as a pious Mahometan might be supposed to do, if he were to see a

Frank seize the Grand Turk by the beard. "I should have thought better of you," he added.

"My dear sir," said Harry, laughing, "how could I help it! I must defend myself from any desire to be

disappointed, I assure you. On the contrary, I wish very sincerely that everything in my native country were

as good as possible in its way; that the architecture of the public buildings were of the noblest kind; the

private houses the most pleasant and convenient; the streets the best paved, and best lighted in the world. But

I don't conceive that the way to bring this about is to maintain le pistolet a la gorge, that perfection has

already been attained in all these particulars. To speak frankly, it strikes me as the height of puerility to wish

to deceive oneself upon such subjects. On the contrary, I think it is the duty of every man, so far as he has the

"Well," remarked the doctor, "you only confirm me in my opinion. I shall be more unwilling than ever to let

Ben go; since even you, Harry Hazlehurst, who are a good deal better than most young men, confess the harm

"But, my dear sir, I confess no such thing. I'm conscious that travelling has been a great benefit to me in

many ways. I shall be a happier and better man for what I have seen, all my life, I trust, since many of my

"If I were you, I would not let him say so, Miss Elinor. His friends won't like to hear it; and I, for one, am

"It is quite a new idea to me, doctor," said Hazlehurst, "that mental blindness and vanity are necessary parts

of the American character. We, who claim to be so enlightened! I should be sorry to be convinced that your

view is correct. I have always believed that true patriotism consisted in serving one's country, not in serving

oneself by flattering one's countrymen. I must give my testimony on these subjects, when called for, as well

"Do you know, doctor," said Elinor, "poor Harry has had to fight several battles on this subject already. Mrs.

Bernard attacked him the other evening, because he said the mountains in Switzerland were higher than the

White Mountains. Now we have only to look in a geography to see that they are so."

"Mrs. Bernard asked him if he had seen anything finer than the White Mountains; what could he say! It seems

to me just as possible for a man to love his country, and see faults in it, as it does for him to love his wife and

children, without believing them to be the most perfect specimens of the human family, in body and mind,

that ever existed. You will allow that a man may be a very good and kind husband and father, without

maintaining everywhere that his wife and daughters surpass all their sex, in every possible particular?"

"You will not, surely, deny, doctor," said Hazlehurst, "that it is reasonable to suppose that Europe possesses

some advantages of an advanced state of civilization, that we have not yet attained to? We have done much

for a young people, but we have the means of doing much more; and it will be our own fault if we don't

"That may be; and yet I believe you would have been happier if you had staid at home. While he was away

from you, Miss Elinor, I am afraid he learned some of those disagreeable truths which it would have been

Shortly after, supper was announced; and, although the coachman was not quite as much at home in the

"It is really mortifying to hear a man like Dr. Van Horne, fancy it patriotic to foster conceited ignorance and

childish vanity, on all national subjects," exclaimed Harry, as he took his seat in the carriage, after handing

the ladies in. "And that is not the worst of it; for, of course, if respectable, independent men talk in that tone,

there will be no end to the fulsome, nauseating, vulgar flatteries that will be poured upon us by those whose

"I heard part of your conversation, and, I must confess, the doctor did not show his usual good sense,"

"Not only against him, but against all who are willing, like him, to encourage such a miserable perversion of

truth. Believe them, and you make patriotism anything, and everything, but a virtue."

"WELL, Jenny, you are going to leave us today, it seems," said Mr. Wyllys, the next morning, at breakfast.

"I am sorry for it; but, I suppose your mother has a better right to you than we have."

"I promised mamma I would not stay after today, sir. Aunt Agnes is to carry me over to Longbridge, before

"You must come back again, as often as you can, child. It always seems to me, that Harry and you belong

here, as much as you do anywhere else. How long do you suppose your mother will stay at Longbridge?"

"We are going to New York next week. Father wishes to be in Charleston early in October."

"I can't bear to think of your going so soon. If you are once in Carolina, I suppose, we shan't see you again

until next June; but, mind, you are to pass all next summer with us," said Elinor.

"That is to say, Nelly, if she has no more important engagement," added Mr. Wyllys, smiling.

"Even a very important engagement need not interfere," said Miss Agnes. "We shall be very happy, Jane, to

"I don't think there is the least danger that any Charleston friend will come with me;" said Jane, blushing a

"Oh, no, sir!" was the answer; but her colour continued to rise, and she appeared a little uneasy. As for Harry,

he had taken no part in the conversation, but seemed very busy with his knife and fork.

"Pray remember, Jane," said Elinor, "I am to have timely notice of a wedding, in my capacity of bridesmaid."

"Who knows, Nelly, but you may call upon Jane first. You have fixed upon your friend, I take it; eh, Harry?"

"I hope so;" Hazlehurst replied, in a low voice, and he drank off a cup of hot coffee with such rapidity, that

Elinor made no answer, for she was already at the other end of the room, talking gaily to her birds.

As Harry rose from table and walked into the next room, he tried to feel very glad that Jane was to leave them

that day; he sat down, and took up a paper; but, instead of reading it, silently followed a train of thought by

In the course of the morning, according to the arrangement which had been made, Harry drove the ladies to

Longbridge. He thought he had never passed a more unpleasant morning in his life. He felt relieved when

Elinor, instead of taking a seat with him, chose one inside, with her aunt and Jane; though his heart smote

him whenever her sweet, cheerful voice fell upon his ear. He tried to believe, however, that it was in spite of

himself he had been captivated by June's beauty. Was he not, at that very moment, carrying her, at full speed,

towards her father's, and doing his best to hope that they should meet but once or twice again, for months to

come? Under such circumstances, was not a man in love to be pitied? For some weeks, Hazlehurst had not

been able to conceal from himself, that if he occupied the position of the lover of Elinor, he felt like the lover

As he drove on, in moody silence, the party in the carriage at length remarked, that he had not joined in their

"Harry does not talk so much as he used to;" observed Miss Wyllys; "don't you think he has grown silent,

"Do you hear, Harry?" said Elinor; "Aunt Agnes thinks the air of Paris has made you silent. It ought surely to

"This detestable road requires all a man's attention to keep out of the ruts;" he replied. "I wish we had gone

"If Aunt Agnes has no objection, we can come back by the river road," said Elinor. "But your coachmanship

is so good, you have carried us along very smoothly; if the road is bad, we have not felt it."

Harry muttered something about holes and ruts, which was not heard very distinctly.

"Out of humour, too; very unusual!" thought Miss Agnes. There was a something unnatural in his manner,

which began to give her a little uneasiness; for she saw no good way of accounting for it.

The ladies were driven to the door of the Bellevue Hotel, where the Grahams had rooms. They found several

visiters with Mrs. Graham, among whom, the most conspicuous, and the least agreeable, were Mrs. Hilson

and her sister, both redolent of Broadway, elegant and fashionable in the extreme; looking, it is true, very

Mrs. Graham had scarcely kissed her daughter, before Mrs. Hilson gave Elinor an important piece of

"Oh, yes; we heard that, of course, last week; but I allude to this morning's good news, which I have just

heard from this fascinating little creature;" added the lady, catching one of Mrs. Graham's younger children,

"Indeed!" exclaimed Elinor, turning with joyful eagerness towards Mrs. Graham. "Are you really going to

Mrs. Graham was thus obliged to inform her friends of the change in her plans; she would, of course, have

preferred waiting until alone with Miss Agnes and Elinor, to do so; but, Mrs. Hilson's officiousness obliged

her to say something immediately. One, of her children, a little boy, had been suffering with some disease of

the spine, during the last year, and a consultation of physicians, held the day before, in New York, had

decided that a seavoyage, or a long journey, was more than the poor little fellow could bear, in the present

state of his health, as he had been much worse, during the last three months, since the Grahams had been at

Longbridge. It was therefore settled that Mrs. Graham, Jane, and the younger children, were to remain in

New York, while the boy was under the care of Dr. S, in whom his parents had great confidence. Mr.

Graham and his oldest boy were to pass part of the winter on their plantation, and then return to his family.

Miss Wyllys and Elinor, though regretting the cause, were, of course, much pleased with this arrangement;

"I should not be surprised, Miss Graham," continued Mrs. Hilson, "if some of your New York admirers had

bribed Dr. S; I'm sure, we are very much obliged to him for having detained you. I hope you will be

somewhere near us, in the city. Emmeline is to pass part of the winter with me; and, I dare say, you will be

very intimate. I wish, Mrs. Graham we could persuade you to come to our boardinghouse. Mrs. Stone is

really a fascinating lady, herself; and she always manages to have a charming clique at her house.Quite

"I hope to find more private lodgingsI have too many little people for a boardinghouse."

"Not at all. Mrs. Stone could give you an excellent nursery. She has several lovely little darlings, herself. Her

little Algernon would make a very good beau for your youngest little Miss. What do you say, my dear,"

The little girl opened her large, dark eyes without answering. Mrs. Hilson, and her sister now rose to take

leave of Mrs. Graham, repeating, however, before they went, the invitation they had already given, to a ball

for the next week. It was to be a housewarming, and a grand affair. The ladies then flitted away on tiptoe.

The door had scarcely closed behind them, before Mrs. George Wyllys, who had been sitting as far from

them as possible, began to exclaim upon the absurdity of the whole Hubbard family.

"They are really intolerable, Agnes;" she said to her sisterinlaw. "They attack me upon all occasions. They

brought Mrs. Bibbs and Mrs. Tibbs to see me, and joined me in the street, yesterday: they are almost enough

to drive me away from Longbridge. I can't imagine what makes them so attentive to meplain, sober body,

"Elinor and I have already accepted the invitation;" said Miss Agnes. "My father wished us to go, for he

"Well, I can't say that the gentlemen strike me as so much superior to the ladies of the family. 'Uncle Josie'

seems to admire his daughter's nonsense; and 'Uncle Dozie' never opens his lips."

"I grant you that," said Mrs. Wyllys, smiling. "I shall decline the invitation, though, I think."

The ladies then followed Mrs. Graham to an adjoining room, to see the little invalid, and talk over the new

It was fortunate for Harry, that they had left the drawingroom before he entered it; for he no sooner

appeared at the door, than the same little chatterbox, who had betrayed the change in her mother's plans to

Mrs. Hilson, ran up to him to tell the great news that they were not going back to Charleston, but were to stay

in New York all winter, 'mamma, and Jane, and all of them, except papa and Edward.' The varying

expression of surprise, pleasure, and distress, that passed over Hazlehurst's face, as he received the

intelligence, would have astonished and perplexed Miss Agnes, had she seen it. He had depended upon Jane's

absence to lighten the course which he felt it was his duty to pursue; and now she was to be in New York! Of

course, she would be half her time with Elinor, as usual. And, if he had already found it so difficult, since

they had all been together, to conceal the true state of his feelings, how should he succeed in persevering in

He determined, at least, to leave Longbridge, for a time, and remain in Philadelphia, until the Grahams were

The same evening, as the family at WyllysRoof, and himself, were sitting together, he announced his

"Can I do anything for you, in Philadelphia, Elinor?" he asked; "I shall have to go to town, tomorrow, and

"Are you really going to town?I did not know you were thinking of it. I wish I had known it this morning,

for I am very much in want of worsteds for the chairpattern Jane brought me; but, unfortunately, I left it at

"Nothing, thank youunless you bring some new books; which, we will leave to your taste, to choose."

"Is not this rather a sudden move, Harry?" said Mr. Wyllys, who had just finished a game of chess with Miss

"I intended to put it off; sir; but, on thinking the matter over, I find I had better go at once."

"I wish you would look about you a little, for lodgings for us; it is time we secured them. I suppose, you will

want us to go to town early, this winter, Nelly, won't you? It will not do for Master Harry to be wasting half

his time here, after he has once taken seriously to law; you know he will have two mistresses to wait upon,

"It is to be hoped they will not interfere with each other," said Miss Agnes, smiling.

"That is what they generally do, my dear. Bythebye, Nelly, I suppose Louisa will have Jane in

"Yes, sir;" was Hazlehurst's laconic reply. 'I wish I could forget it,' thought he. So much had he been

annoyed, throughout the day, that he soon after took up a candle, and, wishing the family goodnight, went to

"I am afraid Harry is not well," said Miss Wyllys, after he had left them. "He seems out of spirits."

"Now you speak of it," replied Mr. Wyllys, "I think he does seem rather out of sorts."

Nothing more was said on the subject; but some unpleasant thoughts suggested themselves to Miss Wyllys;

for, during the last day or two, Hazlehurst's manner had repeatedly struck her as unnatural, and she feared

that something weighed upon his mind. As for Elinor, her nature was as far as possible from being

suspicious; and, least of all, would she have mistrusted Harry; she merely reproached herself for having

laughed once or twice, during the day, at his expense, when he had been very absent. She remembered he

seemed a little annoyed, at the time, though he never used to mind such things'I am afraid he thought it

unkind, if he was not well,' she said to herself, and determined to make amends, the next morning, by

{Samuel Taylor Coleridge (English poet, 17721834), "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" (VII) line 592}

WE shall follow the example of the good people of Longbridge, its partygoing inhabitants, at least, and

discard, for the moment, all other topics, in order to give due justice to the expected ball at the Hubbards. It

was understood that this housewarming was to be the most brilliant affair, of its kind, that had taken place,

in the neighbourhood, within the memory of man. Mrs. Hilson and Miss Emmeline Hubbard had staked their

reputations, for elegance and fashion, upon the occasion. The list of invitations was larger than any yet issued

at Longbridge, and all the preparations were on a proportionate scale of grandeur.

About ten days before the eventful evening, Mrs. Hilson and Miss Emmeline were closeted with their

intimate friends, Mrs. Bibbs and Mrs. Tibbs, engaged in drawing up a plan of operations for the occasion.

Probably the 'citylady,' as Mrs. Hilson always called herself, had invited the two friends as counsellors,

more with a view of astonishing them by a display of her own views of magnificence, than from any idea that

Miss Emmeline was seated, pencil in hand, with several sheets of paper before her, all ready, to take notes of

the directions as they were settled. Mrs. Bibbs and Mrs. Tibbs were placed on a sofa; and Mrs. Hilson threw

"In the first place, Emmeline," said the 'citylady,' "we must have boned turkey: put down boned turkey."

"I thought you were going to make out the list of invitations first," said the sister.

"Just put down the boned turkey, for that is absolutely necessary; and then we can run over the names."

Miss Emmeline wrote as she was directed. A long list of names was then put down; there had already been a

private family meeting upon the subject, at which, after many endeavours of Mrs. Hilson to unite the two

advantages of extreme exclusiveism, and the largest number of invitations ever heard of at Longbridge, Mr.

Hubbard had decided the matter by insisting that his daughters should ask every person who had ever been a

guest at their house before, and all those from whom they themselves had accepted invitations.

"Don't talk to me of fashionable people, and exclusives and inclusivesI choose to have all my old

This was the only point upon which their father insisted; and as he left the expense of the arrangements

entirely to themselves, the ladies thought it most prudent not to argue the matter. Instead, therefore, of aiming

at having their party very select, it was now agreed that it should be very general.

"It will be a regular mob," said Mrs. Hilson, as she finished reading to her sister scraps of lists of which her

lap was full; "but with so large a visiting circle as ours, it was not to be avoided, I suppose. Have you put

down the boned turkey, Emmeline? that at least will give to the entertainment an aristocratic character, at

"Yes, to be sure, here it is," said Emmeline, taking up another sheet of paper. "We must have boned turkey, of

Now it so happened that neither Mrs. Bibbs nor Mrs. Tibbs, though such fascinating ladies, had ever seen,

tasted, or heard of boned turkey before. But, of course, they did not confess such shameful ignorance. Boned

turkey had never yet figured at a party at Longbridge. We say figured at a party, and we speak advisedly, as

all must know who are aware of the allimportant position occupied at an American party by the

refreshments, in the opinion of both host and guests. The brilliancy of the lights, the excellence of the music,

the wit and gallantry of the gentlemen, the grace and beauty of the ladieswould be of no avail in giving

fame to a party if the refreshments were not as abundant, and as varied as possible. It is true these good things

are generally excellent in their way, which is probably one reason why they receive so much attention. The

highest distinction to be attained in these matters is the introduction of some new delicacy; next to this, is the

honour of being one of the first to follow so brilliant an example; but, of course, those unfortunate individuals

who have neglected to procure the favourite dainty of the season, after it has once appeared on fashionable

tables, lose all claim to honourable mention, and sink beneath notice. In this way, each dish has its day; a year

or two since, Charlotte Russe was indispensable at an entertainment; last winter Bombes were in high

request; and at the period of the Hubbard housewarming, Boned Turkey had received the place of honour on

the New York suppertables. People could neither flirt nor dance, they could talk neither pure nonsense, nor

pure speculation, without the Boned Turkey in perspective. The fashion had indeed spread so far, that it had

"Pa thinks we shall have some difficulty in getting boned turkey at this season; it is rather early; but I am

determined to have it if money can procure it. You know I am very ambitious, Mrs. TibbsI am not easily

Mrs. Tibbs, a pretty little woman with light hair, wearing a fashionable lilac muslin, assented, of course.

"Taking for granted then, that we have the boned turkey, what shall we put down next?" asked Miss

Emmeline. "Terrapinsoup, pickledoysters, lobsters, chickensalad, and anything in the way of game that

can be found in the market; do you think that will do for the substantial dishes, Mrs. Bibbs?"

Mrs. Bibbs, a pretty little woman with black hair, wearing a fashionable green muslin, assented, of course.

"I think that will do, Emmeline," said Mrs. Hilson; "a large supply of each, you know. Bythebye we must

Then followed a long list of lighter delicacies; gallons of icecream with every possible variety of flavour;

flour and eggs, cream and sugar, prepared in every way known to New York confectioners. Kisses and

Mottoes were insisted upon. Then came the fruits, beginning with peaches and grapes, and concluding with

bananas and other tropical productions, until at length even Mrs. Hilson's "ambition" was thus far satisfied.

{"Kisses and Mottoes" = wrapped candies enclosing short witty verses or "mottoes"ancestors of the

"I think our setout will have quite an aristocratic appearance, Emmeline; including, of course, the boned

turkey. Then we must have colored candles, they are so much more tastyall green and pink. Alonzo will

secure the orchestra, the best in the city; 's band. We must have two dressingrooms in the third story,

one for the gentlemen, one for the ladiesand a little faintingroom besides; the small east room will do for

thatwe can put in it the easychair, with the white batiste cover I brought over from the city, with a pitcher

of icedwater, and restoratives, all ready. It is always best, Mrs. Bibbs, to have a pretty little faintingroom

The lady in the green muslin agreed entirely with Mrs. Hilson; she thought it would be unpardonable not to

"The third story will be reserved for the dressingrooms, the second entirely devoted to the supper and

refreshments, and the first floor given up to the dancers and promenaders. I declare I shan't know how to look

The lady in the lilac muslin agreed that when everything else was so genteel, it would be unfortunate indeed

The disposition of the furniture, the variety of lemonades, was then settled, as well as other minor matters,

when the four ladies sat down to write the invitations on the very elegant and fanciful notepaper prepared

"The first thing I shall do, Emmeline, will be to write a letter expressly to Alonzo, to insist upon the

We shall pass over the labours of the ensuing week, devoted to the execution of what had been planned.

Various were the rumours floating about Longbridge in the interval; it was asserted by some persons that a

steamboat was to bring to Longbridge all the fashionable people in New York; that it was to be a sort of

"MassMeeting" of the "Aristocracy." By others, all the fiddlers in New York and Philadelphia were said to

be engaged. In fact, however, nothing was really known about the matter. Mrs. Bibbs and Mrs. Tibbs had

confided all the details to a score of friends only, and every one of these had, as usual, spread abroad a

different version of the story. We have it, however, on the best authority, that every day that week a letter in

Mrs. Hilson's handwriting, directed to the most fashionable cook and confectioner in New York, passed

through the Longbridge postoffice, and we happen to know that they were all written upon the negotiation

for the boned turkey, which at that season it was not easy to procure in perfection.

The eventful evening arrived at length. The fanciful notepapers had all reached their destination, the pink

and green candles were lighted, the faintingroom was prepared, the kisses and mottoes had arrived, and

though last, surely not least, four dishes of boned turkey were already on the suppertable. Mrs. Bibbs and

Mrs. Tibbs had gone the rounds with the two ladies of the house, and admired everything, after which they

returned to the drawingroom. Mrs. Bibbs in blue, and Mrs. Tibbs in pink, were placed in full array on a sofa.

Mrs. Hilson and Miss Emmeline stationed themselves in a curtseying position, awaiting their guests. Mr. and

Mrs. Clapp, with Miss Patsey and Charlie, were the first to arrive. Our friend, Patsey, looked pleasant,

goodnatured, and neatly dressed, as usual; the silk she wore was indeed the handsomest thing of the kind

she had ever ownedit was a present from Uncle Josie, who had insisted upon her coming to his

housewarming. Patsey's toilette, however, though so much more elegant than usual, looked like plainness

and simplicity itself, compared with the gauzes and flowers, the laces and ribbons of Mrs. Tibbs and Mrs.

Bibbs, who were sitting on the sofa beside her. Presently, a thin, dark, soberlooking young man walked in at

a sidedoor; it was Alonzo, Mrs. Hilson's husband. Honest, warmhearted Mr. Hubbard soon followed,

looking as usual, in a very good humour, and much pleased with the holiday he had provided for his

daughters, and the satisfaction of seeing all his old friends in his new house, which he had prepared for

himself. If ever there was a man who spoilt his children, it was Mr. Joseph Hubbard. Had he had sons, it

might possibly have been different; but his wife had been a very silly, very pretty, very frivolous woman; the

daughters resembled her in every respect, and Mr. Hubbard seemed to have adopted the opinion that women

were never otherwise than silly and frivolous. He loved his daughters, laughed at their nonsense, was

indulgent to their folly, and let them do precisely as they pleased; which, as he had made a fortune, it was in

his power to do. As for Uncle Dozie, the bacheler {sic} brother, who had lived all his life with Mr. Joseph

Hubbard, he was already in the drawingroom, seated in a corner, with folded arms, taking a nap. It was

singular what a talent for napping this old gentleman possessed; he had been known to doze over a new book,

pronounced by the papers "thrillingly interesting," and "intensely exciting;" he has slept during a political

speech, reported as one continued stream of enchaining eloquence, delivered amid thunders of applause; and

now, under the blaze of astral lamps, and pink and green candles, while the musicians were tuning their

fiddles, and producing all sorts of discordant sounds, he was dozing as quietly as if in his own rockingchair.

Uncle Dozie seldom talked when he could help it; the chief business and pleasure of his life consisted in

superintending his brother's vegetablegarden; he had never been known to take a nap among his beets and

cabbages, which he seemed to admire as much. as he did his nieces. The vegetables, indeed, engrossed so

much of his care and attention, that three times in the course of his life, he had lost by carelessness a

{"astral lamp" = a variety of Argand lamp (the brightest oil lamp of the period) especially designed to cast its

The company began to pour in. Mrs. Taylor and the talkative old friend were among the earliest, and took

their seats on the sofa, near Miss Patsey, Mrs. Bibbs, and Mrs. Tibbs. Adeline, with the Saratoga

fashionables, soon followed; having remained longer in the dressingroom, in order to wait until each could

appear with a beau to lean on. The Longbridge elite arrived in large numbers; Uncle Dozie woke up, and

Uncle Josie shook hands as his friends wished him many happy years in his new house. Miss Emmeline and

Mrs. Hilson flitted hither and thither; while the dark and soberlooking Alonzo occasionally bent his head

gently on one side, to receive some private communications and directions from his more elegant moiety. No

one was received by the ladies of the house with more fascinating smiles, than a tall, slim Englishman, with a

very bushy head of hair, who had made Mrs. Hilson's acquaintance at their boardinghouse not long since,

and being tired of occupying a third or fourthrate position in his own country, was now determined to show

off what he thought airs of the first water, in this. He was just the attendant in whom Mrs. Hilson gloried.

"I think the WestEnd is fully represented here, this evening, Emmeline," said the fair lady as she tripped

past her sister, followed by Captain Kockney, after the rooms were uncomfortably full.

"Some very pretty women 'ere, Mrs. 'Ilson," observed Captain Kockney; "that's really a lovely creature just

"Do you think Miss Wyllys so very ugly? Perhaps she is; but she is one of our country neighbours, and I have

seen her so frequently that I am accustomed to her appearanceindeed we are quite intimate. When one

knows her, her conversation is excessively delightful; though she wants more association with citylife to

"Now, pray don't introduce me there, I beg. I saw too many ugly women the last season I was at 'ome. Our

colonel had three daughters, 'orrid frights, but of course we had to do the civil by them. It almost tempted me

"Oh, yes, I hate parvenoos; I am thoroughly aristocratic in my nature. Indeed, it is a great misfortune for me

that I am so, one is obliged, in this country, to come so often in contact with plebeians! I am afraid you must

"What, from the plebeians? Oh, I made up my mind to that before I came, you know; I believe I shall enjoy

the change for a time. One doesn't expect anything else from you Yankees; and then I had a surfeit of

aristocracy in London, the last season. We had halfadozen crowned heads there; and first one met them

"There you're quite out. It's a great bore; one has to mind their p's and q's at court, you knowI never go to

"Well, I should never tire of a courtI am thoroughly patrician in my disposition. I have a good right to such

"The duke of Percy; a noble family of Scotland. Pa's name is Joseph P. Hubbard. Don't you pity people who

"'Pon my soul, I don't know how a man feels under such circumstances. It's a queer sensation, I dare say."

"Dr. Van Horne," continued Mrs. Hilson, to a young man who came up to make his bow to her, "I have a

"Ah, but it would be a real obligation; I want to get rid of all but my Percy blood. Perhaps you don't know

"Yes, our ancestors were dukes of Percy, who were beheaded in Scotland for being faithful to their king. It is

very possible we might claim the title of a Scotch Peer." Mrs. Hilson had read too many English novels, not

to have a supply of such phrases at command. "If you could only find the right vein, I would insist upon your

"Perhaps it might make me vain. But it could scarcely unfit me more for living in a republic. How I wish we

"Not in the least,"'but I wish you were,' the young man added, to himself, as he moved away towards Jane

and Elinor, who were in a corner talking to his sisters. "All the fools in this country are not travelled fools, as

I wish my father would remember," he continued, as he edged his way through the crowd.

"And he that aye has lived free May not well know the misery, The wrath, the strife, the hate, and all, That's

"You have mustered quite a pretty set of little plebeians 'ere tonight. Now, that's quite a nicelooking little

creature standing by the door," continued Captain Kockney; "what do you call her?"

"Her name is TaylorAdeline Taylor; they belong to the aristocracy too; shall I introduce you?"

"Is she married? If she is, I've no objections; but if she isn't, I had rather not. It's such a bore, you know,

"Ungallant! Why? I suppose you know it's a settled thing that none of US talk to girls in society. Most of

them are so milkandwater, and the rest are so deep, they're always fancying a man means something. Why,

last spring we cut Lord Adolphus Fitz Flummery, of OURS, just because he made a fool of himself, dangling

"The saps dobut not your knowing ones. We make an exception though, in favour of a regular beauty, such

as that little girl on the other side of the room; that Thomson girl, didn't you call her?"

"Miss Grahamyou are difficult to please if nothing else will suit you. But of course it is natural for

"To be sure it is, that's what makes us English aristocrats so exclusive. If that little Graham girl comes in our

way though, I've no objection to making her acquaintance. And if you have got a great fortune here tonight,

I'll make an exception for heryou may introduce me. Is there such a thing as an heiress in the room?"

"Is she? Well then, you may introduce me there too. We have to do the civil to the rich girls, you know;

because after a while most of us are driven into matrimony. That's the governor, I take it, near the door."

"Doesn't he? Well, I thought you introduced him just now as the governor, and I fancied some one called him

"Just sothat is what I said. You call your paternities PA, do you?we always call the old fellows

"Do you call your father Gov. Kockney? I did not know that governor was an English title; it sounds very

"Now, what DO you mean? ha! ha!you are delightful. You put me in mind of a good scene at the

drawingroom, last June. Though, perhaps, you don't know what the drawingroom is?"

"Oh, yes; I know that it means Court. My tastes are so exclusive, that I may say I have lived in English

HighLife from the time I married, and became intimate with Mrs. Bagman. I feel quite at home in such

scenes, for I read every novel that comes out with Lords and Ladies in it. What were you going to tell me

The story was interrupted by Miss Hubbard, who tripped across the room to carry her sister off with her.

"Now you are not going, I hope? Why not stay 'ere; I am sure this sofa is the most comfortable thing in the

"Pray, keep me clear of the cits! But now, if you will go, just leave me your bouquet as a a consolation.

"I hope you will, for it's a ten dollar bouquet, and I'm very proud of it. You must not steal a single flower,

"Mustn't I?Do you dare me?" and the agreeable Captain began to pull out several flowers. Mrs. Hilson,

Mr. Taylor, Mr. Hubbard, and Alonzo moved towards the sofa where she had been sitting.

"Do you think that Stewart will be chosen President of the Franklin Insurance?" inquired Mr. Hubbard.

"I think not, sirhe rather mismanaged the affairs of the Hoboken Bank. Lippincott will be the President, I

take it. He has magnificent talents for business. You know he has purchased the thirty lots in 50th street, that

"How's the Hoboken stock now?" inquired Alonzo. A murmuring about 'five per cent.''six per

cent.''par''premium,' followed, and was only interrupted by the approach of young Van Horne and

"I beg your pardon, Miss Wyllys," said Mr. Hubbard, making room for her. "Oh, yes, Mr. Van Horne, here is

"Charlie is already placed, I see; but here is a gentleman; perhaps you would like to dance, sir?"addressing

Captain Kockney, who was still in possession of the sofa and the flowers. "I hope my daughter has introduced

And, accordingly, the Captain, by no means sorry to be forced to dance, rose with a victimlike look, half

strode, half sidled towards Mrs. Hilson, and putting his elbow in her face by way of an invitation, led her to

the quadrille. The contrast between these two couples, placed opposite to each other, was striking, and yet

common enough in a mixed ballroom. Captain Kockney was desperately nonchalant, his partner full of airs

and graces; their conversation was silly, ignorant, and conceited, beyond the reach of imaginationsuch

things must be heard to be believed. Young Van Horne was clever, and appeared to less advantage in dancing

than in most things. Elinor the reader knows already; it was a pleasure to follow her as she moved about with

the happy grace which belonged to her nature. Her partner, half in joke, half in earnest, was engaging her

interest with his father in behalf of the visit to Europe. Elinor promised to do all in her power; and they

chatted away cheerfully and gaily, for they were young and lighthearted; and yet, even in a ballroom, they

meant what they said, and knew what they were talking about, for both were sensible and well educated. Jane

and young Bernard were next to Mrs. Hilson; Adeline and Charlie Hubbard next to Elinor. Miss Taylor had

declared that she would allow no one but herself to fill the place opposite to Jane, causing by her decision no

little flirtation, and rattling merriment; but, of course, this was just what the young lady aimed at. These two

pretty, thoughtless creatures, the belle and the beauty, held a middle position between Mrs. Hilson and Elinor.

Frivolous as they were, there was more latent good about them, than could be found in the 'city lady,' who

was one frothy compound of ignorant vanity, and vulgar affectation. The class she represented was

fortunately as small in its extreme folly, as that to which Elinor belonged, in its simple excellence.

Any one, indifferent to dancing or speculation, seeking amusement as a lookeron, would have been struck,

at Uncle Josie's housewarming, with the generally feminine and pleasing appearance of the women; there

were few faces, indeed, that could be called positively ugly. Then, again, one remarked, that puerile as the

general tone might be, mixed as the company was, there were no traces whatever of coarseness, none of that

There was a certain proportion of elderly men collected on the occasionthey were seen, with a few

exceptions, standing in knots, talking great speculations and little politics, and looking rather anxious for

supper, and the boned turkey. Of the mothers and chaperons, who filled the sofas, as representatives of a

halfforgotten custom, some were watching the flirtations, others looking on and enjoying the gaiety of the

young people. Both fathers and mothers, however, were very decidedly in the minority, and, according to

American principles, they allowed the majority undisputed sway. The young people, in general, held little

communication with their elders, and amused themselves after their own fashion; the young ladies' bouquets

afforded a favourite subject for smalltalk; they were all carefully analysednot botanically, but according

to the last edition of that elegant work, the Language of Flowers, which afforded, of course, a wide field for

{Probably, Frederic Shoberl (17751853), "The Language of Flowers," (numerous editions, some published

by the Cooper family's regular publisher in Philadelphia)but there were many similar books on the "poetic

Among the dancers, the four young ladies we have pointed out were acknowledged the most conspicuous.

According to Mrs. Tibbs and Mrs. Bibbs, Jane's was the most beautiful face in the room, although there were

two or three competitors for the title; Adeline was pronounced the most successful of the rival belles; Mrs.

Hilson the most elegant and airy; Elinor the plainest of the gay troop. Probably, most of those who thought

about the matter, would have decided as the Longbridge ladies didalthough, on the point of Mrs. Hilson's

elegance, many would have protested. There was one person, at least, who followed Elinor's graceful figure

with partial interest; Miss Agnes found so much that was pleasing to her, in the fresh, youthful appearance of

her adopted childin the simple goodtaste of her white dressin the intelligence and character of her

expressionin her engaging manner, that she forgot to regret her want of beauty; she no longer wondered, as

she had sometimes done, that Harry should so early have appreciated her niece. Those who knew Elinor

thoroughly, loved her for the excellence of her character; strangers neglected her for any pretty face at her

side; but every one thrown in her society, must have acknowledged the charm of her manner. This pleasing

manner, however, so frank, yet so feminine, so simple, yet so graceful, was only the natural result of her

character, and her very want of beauty. She was never troubled by the fluttering hopes and fears of vanity;

she never seemed to think of effect; when in society, her attention was always given in the simplest and most

amiable way to others. Forgetful of self, she was a stranger to every forward affectation, to every

awkwardness of mauvaise honte; her good sense, her gaiety, a sweet disposition, and an active mind were

allowed full play, under no other restraints than those of a good education; those of principle, and those of

youthful, womanly modesty. Such was Elinor in the eyes of her aunt, but it must not be supposed that this

was the general opinion of Uncle Josie's guests; by no means; many remarks were made upon Miss Wyllys's

being so decidedly plain; and even her dancing was thought inferior by some of the company to the more

laboured graces of Mrs. Hilson, or the downright indifference of Adeline: as for Jane, she unfortunately never

At the proper moment supper was announcedthe boned turkey appeared in full glory. "What is

that?""Boned turkey""Shall I give you boned turkey?" "I'll thank you for a little boned turkey"were

sounds heard in every direction. It was very evident the boned turkey was fully appreciated, and gave great

satisfactionthus putting the finishing touch to the pleasures of Uncle Josie's housewarming. We must not

forget to mention the mottoes, which were handed about in silver baskets, for, as usual, they caused many

tender and witty speeches. This was a part of the entertainment in which Adeline delighted; Jane seemed

quite satisfied with it, and Mrs. Hilson was in her element among these little bits of pink paper and sentiment.

Before the supper was more than half over, however, the rattling of spoons and plates, the requests for "boned

turkey," and the flirting over mottoes were suddenly interrupted, and everything hushed for a moment, by

calls for a doctor! "Where is Dr. Van Horne?" "Have you seen Dr. A?" "There is Dr. B."

But it proved to be none of the company who required a physician. A stranger, a sailor, some one said, who

had been for the last week at a low tavern opposite, had been seized with a fit; Dr. Van Horne was soon

found, and hastened to the relief of the sick man. The interruption was soon forgotten; the mottoes and boned

turkey were again in demand. Dr. Van Horne did not return, however; his family went home without him; and

Mrs. Clapp, on looking around for her husband, found that he also had disappeared.

"I saw Clapp going into the tavern last evening," observed Uncle Josie. "Perhaps this poor fellow is some

Mrs. Clapp was obliged to ask Uncle Dozie to accompany her home; and as he was no somnambulist, with all

Miss Wyllys was one of those who left the house immediately after supper. Adeline and Jane ran up stairs

before Elinor and herselflike the Siamese twins, each with an arm encircling the other's waist. The close

intimacy between Jane and Adeline continued to surprise Elinor. She began to think there must be something

more than common, something of the importance of a mystery which drew them so often together, causing so

many confidential meetings. Even when the two girls were in society, she could not but observe that Adeline

often made some allusion, or whispered some remark that seemed both pleasing and embarrassing to Jane.

Miss Taylor was evidently playing confidante, and occasionally Jane appeared to wish her less open and

persevering in the affair. As for Mrs. Graham, she was too much occupied with the care of her younger

children to pay much attention to her daughter's intimacies. She rather disliked Adeline and all her family,

and Mr. Graham had a real antipathy for Mr. Taylor; still Jane was allowed to do as other young girls about

her, select whom she pleased for her associates. Mrs. Graham was one of those mothers who devote

themselves with great assiduity to the care of their childrens' {sic} bodies, their food and raiment, pains and

achesleaving all anxiety for their minds to the schoolmistress, and their characters to themselves. With

the eldest daughter this plan had succeeded very well; Louisa Graham was clever and welldisposed, and had

taken of her own accord what is called a good turn; and Mr. Robert Hazlehurst had every reason to

congratulate himself upon his choice of a wife. Mrs. Graham seemed to take it as a matter of course that the

same system would succeed equally well with all her family. But Jane's disposition was very different from

her sister Louisa's; she had no strength of character, and was easily led by those about her. The greatest fault

in her disposition was thought by her family to be indolence; but Miss Wyllys sometimes wished that she had

{"Siamese twins" = Chang and Eng (18111874), born joined together in Thailand (Siam), of Chinese

parents, who were exhibited in America for many years by P.T. Barnum; the condition was named after

Elinor was not a little startled at something which passed in Miss Hubbard's dressingroom, between Jane

and Miss Taylor, and which she accidentally overheard, before she was aware the conversation was

"Don't pretend any longer, Jane, that you didn't know it," whispered Adeline, as they were stooping together

over a bundle of hoods and shawls. Jane made no answer. "Now, confess that you knew he was serious before

"Well, I supposed from your letters that you knew long ago that he was desperately in love with you. Trust

"Nonsensewrong indeed! I should like to know where is the great harm if he does break his engagement?"

Elinor moved away when she found the conversation was meant to be private. But she had unintentionally

heard enough to make her anxious for Jane. "Was not Adeline leading her into difficulty?" She felt uneasy,

and thought of nothing else during her drive home. It would not do to consult Miss Wyllys; but she

determined to speak to Jane herself, the first time she saw her. Unfortunately, her cousin was going to New

York, and nothing could be done until she returned to pass a fortnight at WyllysRoof before going to town

MISS PATSEY had never, in her life, been to a regular ball, before this housewarming of Uncle Josie's; but

not even the novelty of a ball could keep her in bed an hour later than usual. Charlie and herself had returned

home some time after midnight, with the Wyllyses; but the next morning she rose with the chickens, and

before the October sun, to pursue, as usual, her daily labours. It was truly surprising how much Patsey

Hubbard found time to do in a single day, and that without being one of your fussy, utilitarian busybodies,

whose activity is all physical, and who look upon half an hour passed in quiet thought, or innocent recreation,

as so much time thrown away. Our friend Patsey's career, from childhood, had been one of humble industry,

selfforgetfulness, and active charity; her time in the gay hours of youth, as well as in the calmer years of

mature experience, had been devoted to the welfare and happiness of her parents, her brothers and sisters.

From a long habit of considering the wants and pleasures of others first, she always seemed to think of herself

last, as a matter of course. She had had many laborious, anxious hours, many cares; but it is far from being

those who have the most trouble in this world, who complain the loudest; no one had fewer wants, fewer

vanities, fewer idle hours than Miss Patsey, and, consequently, no one could be more generally cheerful and

contented. There is nothing so conducive to true, healthful cheerfulness, as the consciousness of time

wellspent: there is no better cure for the dull spirit of French ENNUI, or the gloom of English BLUES, than

Any one who had followed Patsey Hubbard through the varied duties of a single day, would have

acknowledged that there is no spectacle in this world more pleasant, than that of a human being, discharging

with untiring fidelity, and singleness of heart, duties, however humble. The simple piety of her first morning

prayer, the plain good sense of her domestic arrangements, and thorough performance of all her household

tasks, her respectful, considerate kindness to her stepmother, and even a shade of undue indulgence of

Happy was Patsey's little flock of scholars. Every morning, at nine o'clock, they assembled; the Taylor

children usually appeared in Leghorn gipsies, and silk aprons; the rest of the troop in gingham

"sunbonnets," and large aprons of the same material. There were several little boys just out of petticoats,

and halfadozen little girlsenough to fill two benches. The instruction Patsey gave her little people was

of the simplest kind; reading, spelling, writing, and arithmetic, learning a few simple verses, with sewing and

marking for the girls, made up the amount of it. Most people, in these days of enlightenment, would have

been very much dissatisfied with her plan, for it actually excluded all the sciences, and all the

accomplishments. Patsey had two reasons for confining herself to the plainest branches of education only; in

the first place, she did not think herself capable of teaching anything else; and, secondly, she doubted whether

her scholars were capable of learning anything better or more useful for themselves. Mr. Taylor thought she

had very low views of infant education; and yet, you could not have found anywhere a set of children,

between three and ten, who were more thoroughly taught what their instructor professed to teach. Happy

would it be for these little creatures, if they never acquired any worse knowledge than they gained under

Patsey's care! She had an eye to their tempers, their morals, and their manners; she trained the little girls to be

modest and gentlethe little boys to be respectful and obliging; while she endeavoured to make all alike

honest, open, cheerful, and sincere. Were not these lessons quite as important to most children, between the

{"Leghorn gipsies" = fashionable hats (named after Leghorn, Italy) with large side flaps; "marking" =

The day following Uncle Josie's housewarming, Miss Patsey released her little flock an hour earlier than

usual; they were allowed to pass the time playing in an adjoining meadow, until sent for by their parents.

There was to be a teaparty at the "old gray house" that eveninga very unusual event; ten invitations had

been sent out. The fact is, Miss Patsey had received a basket of noble peaches, the day before, from one of

her neighbours; and Uncle Josie had already, early in the morning, sent over a wagonload of good things to

replenish his niece's larderthe remains of the last night's supper; among other delicacies there was a bit of

boned turkey, for Mrs. Hubbard's especial benefit. Patsey scarcely knew what to do with so many luxuries.

She sent a basket of fruits and jellies to a couple of sick neighbours, by Charlie; still, there was more than her

mother, Charlie, and herself, could possibly do justice to in a week. She determined to give a little teaparty;

it was eighteen months since she had had one, and that had been only for the Wyllyses. Dr. and Mrs. Van

Horne, the Taylors, the Wyllyses, and the Clapps were accordingly invited; and Patsey proceeded to burn

some coffee, and make shortcake. The little parlour was more carefully swept and dusted than ever, five

additional chairs were brought in, and a fire was made, on account of Mrs. Hubbard. Then, about four

o'clock, the ladies made their toilette; Mrs. Hubbard was dressed in a smart new calico, with a cap, made by

Elinor, and was then seated in the best rockingchair. As for Patsey, herself, she could not think of wearing

the elegant new dress, Uncle Josie's presentthat was much too fine; she preferred what had now become

her secondbesta black silk, which looked somewhat rusty and wellworn. To tell the truth, this gown had

seen good service; it had been not only turned, but returnedhaving twice gone through the operation of

ripping and sponging; and doubtful as the fact may appear to the reader, yet we have Miss Patsey's word for

it, that a good silk will bear twice turning, but then it must be a silk of a firstrate quality, like her own. It had

been, indeed, the standing opinion of the family for the last five years, that this particular dress was still "as

good as new." As for the changes in fashion that this black silk had outlived, who shall tell them? It was

purchased in the days of short waists and belts, "gigohs," and "palreens," as they were called by the

country damsel, whose scissors first shaped the glossy "gro de nap." Waists, long, longer, longest, succeeded;

sleeves, full, fuller, fullest, followed; belts were discarded, boddices {sic} began to appear; still Miss Patsey's

silk kept up with the changes, or rather, did not entirely lose sight of them. If you had seen her at a little

teaparty at WyllysRoof, wearing this silk, "nearly as good as new," with a neat and pretty collar of Elinor's

work, you would have been obliged to confess that her dress answered a rule given by a celebrated

philosopheryou would not have remarked it. Had you chanced to meet her of a Sunday, in Mr. Wyllys's

carriagethe Wyllyses always stopped on their way to St. John's Church, at Longbridge, to offer a couple of

seats to the Hubbards, who were set down at the door of their father's old Meetinghousehad you seen her

of a Sunday, with a neat straw hat, and the black silk gown, you would have been obliged to acknowledge

that her dress had the double merit, by no means common, of according with her circumstances, and the

sacred duties she was going to fulfil; the devotion of her neighbours would not be disturbed by admiration of

{"burn some coffee" = roast some coffee; "gigoh" = a puffed "gigot" or "leg of mutton" sleeve; "palreen" =

"pelerine", a cape or mantle; "gro de nap" = "gros de Naples", a weave of silk with a corded effect (French)}

At five o'clock, Miss Patsey's company began to assemble; the Wyllyses were the first to appear; then came

Mrs. Taylor, Mrs. Van Horne, and Mrs. Clapp; Adeline excused herself, she thought it a bore, Charlie was

not worth flirting with. The doctor, Mr. Taylor, and Mr. Clapp, were expected after tea. And a pleasant,

goodnatured evening it proved to be. Miss Patsey's coffee was excellent; the little black girl, engaged for the

occasion, performed her duties to admiration. Mrs. Taylor thought that she had scarcely passed such a quiet,

pleasant afternoon, since the halcyon days before her husband was a rich man; she was much interested in

discussing with Miss Patsey, and Miss Wyllys, and Mrs. Van Horne, various recipes for making bread,

hoecake, and other good things. As for Elinor, she told Charlie she had left her work at home, on purpose

that she might have time enough to look over all his sketcheseverything he had to show, old and new. The

drawings, and several oilpaintings were accordingly produced, and looked over by the young people, and

Mr. Wyllys, who had taken a chair by the table, and joined them. Elinor knew nothing of drawing, but her

general taste was good; she asked many questions about the details of the art, and was amused and interested

{"left her work at home" = the knitting or similar handwork engaged in by ladies while they conversed}

"Show us everything, Charlie," said Mr. Wyllys. "I befriended your genius, you know, in the days of the slate

and compound interest; and, of course, I shall think it due to my own discernment to admire all your works."

"Of course, you are not afraid of my criticisms," said Elinor; "I don't know enough to be severe."

"People who know little, my child, generally make very severe critics," said Mr. Wyllys.

"When they know LITTLE, grandpapa; but mine is honest, humble ignorance. I know nothing at all on the

"Do you remember, Miss Elinor, that Hogarth said anybody possessing common sense was a better judge of a

"Did Hogarth say so?I shall begin to feel qualified to find fault. That is a very pretty group of children,

"Very pretty;some of Miss Patsey's little people. And here is another, quite natural and graceful, Charlie."

"I never see my sister's little scholars but I am tempted to sketch them. Children are such a charming study;

but I am never satisfied with what I do; a picture of children that is not thoroughly childlike is detestable.

"What are these faint outlines of figures, with dashes of colouring here and there?" asked Elinor.

"Oh, those are mere fancies, made entirely for amusement. They are rude sketches of my own ideas of

celebrated pictures that I have never seen, of course; only as exercises for idle momentsone way of

practising attitudes of figures, and composition. I keep them more as a lesson of humility than anything else,

for me to remember my own poor conceits when I see the originals, if that happy day ever come."

"I thought you gave yourself up entirely to landscapes, Charliedo you think seriously of pursuing both

"No, sir; I give the preference to landscapes; I find, at least, that field quite wide enough. It seems scarcely

possible to unite both, they are so different in character and detail, and require such a different course of

"That is the great point with you, my boy; you must not waste too much time upon the ideal portion of the art;

you must remember that the most beautiful ideas in the world will be lost, if the execution is not in some

"I am so well aware of that, sir, that I have done nothing but study the practical part of my trade for the last

"There is water in all your sketches, I believe," said Elinor. "You must be very partial to it."

"I am, indeedit is a most delightful studyI should be afraid to tell you all the pleasure I have in painting

"Not at all; you have made me an honest admirer of every variety of lakes and rivers, since I have seen your

"Oh, long ago, sir, when I was a little bit of a shaver. Have you never when a child, Miss Elinor, received

great pleasure, perhaps a lasting impression, from some natural object that you still remember distinctly?"

"Yes, I know what you meanI recollect perfectly several things of the kind. I believe children have more

"It is very probable that most children have similar sensations. I am glad that you do not laugh at me; there

are few persons to whom I confess my violent partiality for water; most people would think it ridiculous."

"You are right, Charlie; one can talk to the world in action only; it never believes the truth in any shape, until

forced to acknowledge it. You are pursuing the right course, however; you have spoken quite clearly in your

view from Nahantyour friends have every reason to urge you to persevere. But does not Mr. tell

you to pay more attention to your foliage and buildings? you rather neglect them for the water."

"Yes, sir; I am well aware of my defects in that respect, and next summer I hope to devote a great deal of

The conversation was here interrupted by the arrival of Mr. Van Horne and Mr. Taylor, followed shortly after

"You are late, William," said pretty little Mrs. Clapp to her husband. "Did you leave the children all safe? Did

"Perfectly safeall sound asleep," replied Mr. Clapp, passing his fingers through his curls. But his wife, who

knew every expression of the face she thought so handsome, fancied William looked pale and uneasy; some

"Quite a select circle," observed Mr. Taylor, sitting down by Miss Wyllys, leaning his chair back, and rolling

"I have not had a pleasanter evening in a great while," said Mrs. Taylor. "It puts me in mind, husband, of old

fashioned teaparties, when we lived altogether in the country. We used to go at two o'clock, and stay until

sunset. I think such sociable parties are much pleasanter than late, crowded balls."

"Ha! ha!that may be your opinion, Mrs. Taylor; a quiet party does very well where one is intimate, no

doubt; but I conclude that younger ladies, Adeline, and her friends Miss Graham and Miss Wyllys, would

"Miss Taylor seems quite partial to large parties," said Elinor, quietly, for the remark was addressed to her.

"What has become of your patient, doctor?" inquired Miss Patsey. "The poor man at the taverndo you

"I have no doubt the fellow will outlive halfadozen such fits. I left him last night under guard of two men,

to keep him from hanging himself; and this morning, when I went to look after him, he was off. He was so

much better, that he had been persuaded by some messmate to ship for a cruizeonly a three years' whaling

voyage. Regular Jacktar fashiona frolic one day, a fit the next, and off for the end of the world the third."

"He has left Longbridge, has he?" said Mr. Wyllys. "I was just going to inquire after him, for they have a

story going about, that he used very threatening language in speaking of myself and Hazlehurst. Did you

"He did use some wild, incoherent expressions, sir, to that effect, when I was with him; but the threats of a

"Certainly not. But I have no idea who the man can be; I don't know a single common seaman by sight or

nameat least, the only one I ever knew is long since dead. It is singular that this fellow should have known

"If he is a sailor, he probably has a dozen aliases," interposed Mr. Clapp, who had been listening very

"No, my dear; I did not attach any importance to the story," replied the lawyer, pulling out his handkerchief

with one hand, and running the other through his hairlooking a little nervous and uneasy, notwithstanding.

"He did not exactly threaten you, Mr. Clapp, while I was with him," said the doctor; "he seemed rather to

"It is by no means easy to explain the meaning of a drunken man, my dear. It is just possible he may have

heard my name as a man of business. I have had several sailors for clients, and one quite recently, staying at

"I dare say, if explained, it would prove to be Much ado about Nothing," said Mr. Wyllys. "Since the fellow

was drunk at the time, and went off as soon as he grew sober, the danger does not seem very imminent."

"Grandpapa, do you remember the sailor who was found near our house, one night, about two years ago? It

"True, my child; I have never thought of the fellow since; but now you speak of him, I remember the fact."

"Do you not think it is probably the same person?you know Harry had him locked up: perhaps he owes

you both a grudge for the treatment he received at WyllysRoof, upon that occasion."

"That accounts for the whole affair, Miss Elinoryou have cleared up the mystery entirely," said Mr. Clapp,

looking much relieved. He not only appeared grateful to Elinor for the explanation given, but seemed to

extend the obligation to all the family; for he was particularly attentive to Mr. Wyllys, and Miss Agnes,

during the whole eveningand the next morning, early, drove out to WyllysRoof, expressly to carry some

brooktrout, for Mr. Wyllys's breakfast. The lawyer informed several persons, who alluded to the story, of

this simple explanation, which seemed to satisfy all who heard it. The whole affair was soon forgotten, for a

AFTER an absence of a week, or ten days, Harry returned to WyllysRoof, not at all sorry to hear that he was

too late to see the Grahams, as they were going to New York the next morning. He was very attentive to

Elinorpointedly so. Once or twice, she was going to jest with him upon the subject, and inquire the cause

of this studied gallantry; but observing he was still a little out of spirits, she contented herself with thanking

The next day proved so mild, so hazy, and Indiansummerlike, that Hazlehurst proposed to take advantage

of it, to give the ladies a row on the river. They were out for a couple of hours, landed on the opposite bank,

and paid a visit to their friends, the Bernards, who lived a mile or two below them. The air was delightful, the

country looked beautifulfresher, perhaps, than at midsummer; for the heat was no longer parching, and the

September showers had washed away the dust, and brought out the green grass again. Harry had become

interested in the conversation, and was particularly agreeable; Miss Agnes was pleased with his remarks, and

Elinor thought she had never passed a pleasanter morning; she was little aware that it was to be followed by

They landed, as usual, at the boathouse; and the ladies prepared to walk slowly across the lawn, while Harry

secured the boat and oars. As they approached the house, they were surprised to see several of the servants

collected on the piazza, listening so intently to a lad that they did not see the ladies. Old Hetty, a

superannuated negro cook, who had lived all her life in the family, was wringing her hands and wiping her

eyes with her apron; while Mammy Sarah, Elinor's former nurse, a respectable white woman, was talking to

Elinor quickened her pace, and hastened before her aunt, to inquire into the cause of this distress.

"Oh, dearie me; Miss Elly, Miss Elly!" exclaimed old Hetty; with a fresh burst of tears.

"Oh, Miss Aggess, Miss Aggessdreadful news!" said the old negro woman, burying her face in her apron.

"No, ma'am," said Mammy Sarah, looking very sad, however; "Mr. Wyllys is very well, and we were hoping

"Let us hear what you have to say, at once, Mammy," continued Miss Agnes, anxiously.

A cry of horror burst from Elinor and her aunt, and they turned towards Mammy Sarah.

"I hope it isn't quite so bad, ma'am," said Mammy; "but Billy says the steamboat boiler did really burst after

A second sufficed for Miss Agnes and Elinor to remember Hetty's fondness for marvels and disasters, and

they hoped ardently that the present account might be exaggerated. They turned to the boy: "What had he

heard?" "Whom had he seen?" Billy reported that he had seen the boat himself; that he had heard the cries

from her decks, which the people in the street thought had come from some horses on board, that must have

been scalded; that another boat had gone out to the Longbridge steamer, and had towed her to a wharf a few

rods from the spot where the accident happened; that he had seen, himself, a man on horseback, coming for

the doctor; and the people told him five horses had been killed, two men badly hurt, and Mr. Graham's eldest

Miss Wyllys's anxiety increased on hearing the boy's story; she ordered the carriage instantly, determined that

under any circumstances, it would be best to go to Longbridge at once, either to discover the truth, or to assist

Mrs. Graham in nursing Jane, if she were really badly injured. At this moment, Harry returned from the

"What is the matter?" he exclaimed, springing up the piazza steps, and looking round upon the sad and

"We have heard bad news from Longbridge," said Miss Wyllys; but before she could explain herself, old

Miss Wyllys was so much struck with the effect of these words on Harry, that for an instant she forgot to say

"she trusted the story had been exaggerated." Hazlehurst lost all colourstood speechless and motionless for

a moment. Elinor was too much agitated herself to speak. Suddenly, Harry met Miss Agnes' eye; he turned

from her, rushed through the house, and continued walking rapidly up and down the avenue, apparently

forgetful of everything but his own feelings. Amid all her anxiety for Jane, Miss Wyllys could not but remark

Hazlehurst's mannerhe seemed entirely overcome, by his emotion; and yet he had not asked one question,

nor made one offer to do anything for Elinor, or herself; and one would have thought it more natural that at

such a moment he should have remained with them, pained and distressed as they were. Elinor only thought

that Hazlehurst's feelings did credit to his heart; her own was full of grief for the suffering of her playfellow

Some twenty minutes were passed in this manner by the aunt and niece, with feelings better understood than

described. They were waiting for the carriage, and nothing could be done in the mean time; it seemed an age

to Elinor before the coachman could be found, and the horses harnessed. While her aunt and herself were in

tears, pacing the piazza together, they were surprised by the appearance, on the Longbridge road, of the

oldfashioned chair in which Mr. Wyllys usually drove about his farm. Miss Agnes distinctly saw her father

driving, with a lady at his side. They were approaching at a very steady, quiet pace. As they entered the gate,

Miss Agnes and Elinor hastened to meet them; they saw Harry stopping to speak to Mr. Wyllys, and then

"All safe!" he cried. "It was a misunderstanding; Jane is quite well; though a poor young woman, bearing the

"We were in hopes the news had not reached you yet," said Mrs. George Wyllys, who accompanied her

fatherinlaw. "We were all dreadfully alarmed, at first, for the accident was very much exaggerated."

Miss Wyllys and Elinor were too thankful for Jane's escape, to express anything but the relief they felt on

"No one killed," continued Mr. Wyllys. "They lost a couple of horses; two of the men were hurt, but not

dangerously; and the new chambermaid, whose name is Jane Graham, had her feet badly scalded. But there is

so little harm done, considering what might have happened, that we have reason to be very thankful for every

"You may imagine how much alarmed I was," continued Mrs. Wyllys; "for I happened to be sitting at my

own window, which overlooks the river, you know, and I heard the noise and cries from the boat, and knew

Long explanations followed: Mr. Wyllys had had his fright too. He had heard at the saddler's, that half Mr.

Graham's family were killed. Now, however, it only remained for them to be thankful that their friends had

"But how long is it since you heard the story? why did you not send Harry off at once, to get at the truth?"

"No wonder; it was a horrible idea. But he should have jumped on horseback, and rode over to Longbridge to

Elinor looked round once more for Hazlehurst, as they entered the house; but he was certainly not there.

"They are off again this afternoon," replied her father, taking a seat on the sofa.

Hazlehurst was not seen again all the morning. Dinner came, and he had not joined the family.

"He is in his room," said Elinor; "I heard him walking as I passed his door. I am afraid he is not well."

The servant who was sent to let him know that dinner was on table, returned with the answer, that Mr.

"That long row in the sun must have given Harry a headache, Aunt Agnes," said Elinor; "I am sorry we

"Perhaps so," said Miss Agnes; although she did not seem wholly to be of Elinor's opinion.

"Hazlehurst is no such tender chicken, Nelly; you must not spoil him, childdo you hear?" said her

grandfather, smiling in a way that made Elinor colour. Miss Agnes was silent during dinner; but as the whole

family had scarcely recovered from the alarm of the morning, the shade of anxiety on her face was not

Harry remained in his room. As he had requested not to be disturbed, he was left alone. Once, however, in the

"Miss Elinor sends you a cup of tea, sir, and hopes your head is better," said Thomas.

"Miss Elinor is very goodI am much obliged to her," was Harry's answer, in a low, thick voice; but the cup

of tea remained untasted, while Hazlehurst resumed his walk across the room. When, shortly after, Elinor's

voice was heard singing her grandfather's favourite air of Robin Adair in lower tones than usual, Harry again

started from the table, where he had laid pen and paper preparatory to writing, and striking his hand against

{"Robin Adair" = Irish folksong, though often identified with Scotland, with words ca. 1750 by Lady

The next morning Elinor was up early, and taking the garden basket, she went out to gather all the late

flowers she could find, to fill a jar for the drawingroomsinging gaily, as she went from bush to bush, and

gathering here a sprig of honeysuckle, there violets or a late rose, blooming out of season, and a few other

straggling blossoms. After loitering about the garden for half an hour, she returned to the house. She was

surprised to see the coachman, at that early hour, driving up the avenue in the little wagon used for errands

"Where have you been, Williams?" she asked, as he drove past her towards the stable.

"To carry Mr. Hazlehurst over to Upper Lewiston, in time for the six o'clock boat, Miss."

Elinor could scarcely believe what she had heard. At the same moment, Mr. Wyllys stepped out on the

"What is this, Elinor?" he asked. "They tell me Harry is off; did you see him this morning?"

They found Miss Agnes in the drawingroom; she, it seemed, already knew of Hazlehurst's departure. She

said little on the subject, but looked anxious and absent. Elinor scarcely knew what to think; she was afraid to

trust herself to make any inquiries, preferring to wait until alone with her aunt after breakfast. The meal

passed over in silence. Mr. Wyllys looked uneasy; Elinor was at a loss to know what to think; neither of the

Miss Agnes rose from table, and went to her own room; Elinor, neglecting her usual task as housekeeper,

hastened to follow her aunt, her mind filled with indistinct fears and anxieties. Miss Agnes was walking

about her room, looking pained and distressed. Several letters were lying on a table near her; two were

"Letters!my dear Aunt, from whom? Tell me, I conjure you, what you know! Has anything happened to

Louisato Jane? Did Harry leave no message for me?" cried Elinor, hurrying towards her aunt, whose face

she watched for an answer to each question, as she asked it. Miss Wyllys made an effort to compose herself,

"My dearest Aunt!pray tell me what distresses youHa! Harry's handwriting!" she exclaimed, as her eye

fell on the open letter by Miss Wyllys"I know that letter is from Harry; do not conceal anything; is it for

"This letter is to me, my child," replied her aunt, taking up the one she had been reading; wishing to give

Elinor all the preparation in her power, for a blow which she knew must fall heavily, since it was so entirely

"But there are two other letters," cried Elinor, "one of them is for me, I am sure. Let me see it at once, Aunt;

you cannot deny that it is for meand if it contain bad news, you know that I can command myself when

"You shall know all," Miss Agnes replied, seating herself; and endeavouring to be calm. "You will be much

distressed, my child; but I know that you will be now, what you always have been, reasonable, and true to

yourselfto your grandfatherto me," added Miss Wyllys, in a voice almost inarticulate.

A thousand indistinct ideas passed through Elinor's mind with the rapidity of lightning, while her aunt was

speaking; illness of some absent friend suggested itselfyet who could it be? Not Harry, surely, for he had

gone over to Upper Lewiston that morningyet her fears instinctively centred upon Hazlehurst.

"It is something relating to Harry, I am sure," she said. "Is he ill?is he in trouble?" she asked in a faint

"You are right," replied Miss Wyllys, in a faltering voice; and seating herself by her niece, she continued,

"He is well. If he is in trouble, it is from his own choice. Have you no suspicions, my dearest child, of what

"Suspicions!"exclaimed Elinor, in astonishment, "what is there for me to suspect? My dearest Aunt, I am

"My only concern is for you, dearest; my only regret, that trouble should have been brought on you by those

"You must forget him," said Miss Wyllys; and as Elinor looked eagerly in her aunt's eyes, she read there all

Half starting from her seat, she exclaimed, "Harry!and Jane too!" and as a deadly paleness came over her

face, she fell back, unconscious, on the sofa. Her faintness lasted but a moment; too short a time, indeed, to

allow the impression of what she had heard to pass from her mind. She burst into tears. "Oh, Aunt

Agnes!Is it really true?Can Harry have changed? can he have been so unkind to me?And Jane, too!"

Her aunt answered only by her caresses, silently pressing her lips upon Elinor's forehead.

"But is it really true? Is there not some mistake? Is it possible he felt so little for me? Oh, dearest Aunt!and

Miss Wyllys said that she knew nothing of Jane's feelings; but that the manner of both Jane and Harry had

struck her several times as singular; though now but too easily accounted for. During the last ten days, she

"Never, for one second, had I a doubt of either!" cried Elinor. She now dreaded to receive the letter, she had

A package had been given by Harry to the chambermaid, that morning, requesting her to place it in Miss

Agnes's hands as soon as she left her room. It contained three letters. That to Miss Agnes herself, was full and

explicit. He now wrote, he said, because he felt concealment to be no longer possible, after the manner in

which he had betrayed himself on hearing of the steamboat accident. He felt convinced that his emotion had

been observed by Miss Wyllys, and he almost hoped the suspicions of Elinor had been aroused. He hoped it,

for he felt that longer concealment would be unworthy of Elinor, and of himself, since he had not been able to

control his feelings. He acknowledged that a frank confession was now due to her.

"I know," he said, "that you will reproach me severely for my want of faith, and I feel that I deserve far more

than you will say. But do not think that I erred from deliberate forgetfulness of all that I owed to Elinor. I was

for a long time unconscious of the state of my own feelings; and when at length I could no longer deceive

myself, the discovery of my weakness was deeply painful and mortifying. You know what has been my

situation since last springyou know to what I have been exposed. Greater caution might no doubt have

been used, had I not been misled by blindness, or selfconfidence, or vanity, call it what you please. No one

can reproach me as severely as I reproach myself. But although my feelings had escaped my own control

before I knew it, yet I determined from the first that my actions should at least be worthy of Elinor. I instantly

became more guarded. No human being, I believe, until today, suspected my folly. Do not reproach Jane.

He concluded by hoping that his letter would not for a moment be considered by Miss Wyllys or Elinor, as an

attempt to break his engagement, which he was still anxious to fulfil. But he thought that, now the

explanation had been made, a separation for some time would be preferable for all parties. He proposed to

travel for six months, and at the end of that time be hoped to have conquered his own weakness, and to be

The note to herself was short. He had not the courage to repeat to her directly, what he had said to Miss

"I feel unworthy of you, Elinor, and I cannot endure longer to deceive so generous a temper as yours. You

must have remarked my emotion this morningMiss Wyllys now knows all; I refer you to her. I shall never

cease to reproach myself for my unpardonable ingratitude. But painful as it is to confess it, it would have

been intolerable to play the hypocrite any longer, by continuing to receive proofs of kindness which I no

longer deserve. It is my hope, that in time you will forgive me; though I shall never forgive myself.

There are said to be young ladies with hearts so tender, as to be capable of two or three different love affairs,

and an unlimited number of flirtations, in the course of a twelvemonth; but Elinor's disposition was of a very

different stamp. Her feelings were all true and strong; her attachment for Harry little resembled that mixture

of caprice and vanity to which some young people give the name of love. With something of fancy, and a

share of the weakness, no doubt, it was yet an affection to which every better quality of her nature had

contributed its share. Hazlehurst's determination never to forgive himself for the sorrow he had caused her,

was a just one. His fickleness had deeply wounded a heart, warm, true, and generous, as ever beat in a

Bitterly did Elinor weep, that first day of grief, humiliation, and disappointment. She did not hesitate,

however, for a moment, as to the course to be pursued, and even felt indignant that Harry should have

believed her capable of holding him to his engagement, with the feelings he had avowed. She answered his

"I do not blame youyour conduct was but natural; one more experienced, or more prudent than myself,

would probably have foreseen it. Had you left me in ignorance of the truth until too late, I should then have

been miserable indeed. My aunt will take the first opportunity of letting our mutual friends know the position

in which it is best we should continue for the future. May you be happy with Jane.

Elinor, at this moment, felt keenly the disadvantages of homeliness, which she had hitherto borne so

cheerfully, and had never yet considered an evil. Beauty now appeared to her as a blessed gift indeed.

"Had I not been so unfortunately plain," thought Elinor, "surely Harry could not have forgotten me so soon.

Oh," she exclaimed, "had I but a small portion of that beauty which so many girls waste upon the world, upon

mere vanity; which they are so ready to carry about to public placesthrough the very streets, to catch the

eye of every passing stranger, how highly should I prize it, only for the sake of pleasing those I love! What a

happy thought it must be to those blessed with beauty, that the eyes of their nearest and dearest friends never

rest upon them but with pleasure! How willingly would I consent to remain plain to ugliness, plain as I am, in

Mr. Wyllys and Miss Agnes, of course, approved the step Elinor had taken. They were both deeply pained by

Harry's conduct; they both regretted having allowed the engagement to take place so early, and at the moment

of Harry's absence. Miss Wyllys, indeed, blamed herself severely for not having used all her influence to

prevent it. With her father, on the contrary, indignation against Harry was the strongest feeling.

"Heartless young coxcomb!" he exclaimed; "to dare to trifle with Elinor. I had a good opinion of him; I

thought he had too much sense, and too much feeling, not to appreciate Elinor, though her face may not be as

pretty as some others. Agnes, he must never be asked to WyllysRoof again. I can never forget his treatment

WHILE the family at WyllysRoof were in this distress, Miss Agnes had received the parting visit of the

Taylors. The porticos of Colonnade Manor rose before closed windows; the house was abandoned for the

winter; while Mr. Taylor and Miss Adeline were engaged in putting the finishing touch to the elegance of No.

Mr. Taylor was getting at home in New York. The atmosphere of a large town, thoroughly commercial, was

just fitted to his nature. He had certainly every reason to be satisfied with the rapidity with which he had

mounted towards the top of the WallStreet ladder. He was already cheekbyjowl with certain heavy men

of the place; he walked down Broadway of a morning with "Mr. A. of the Ocean," and up again of an

afternoon with "Mr. B. of the Hoboken;" he knew something of most of the great men of the commercial

world; and as for the rest of the community, he cared little enough for them or their interests. His house was

as handsome and as finely furnished as he could wish, his children were as expensively dressed, as

expensively schooled, as any in the land. He had become accustomed to the first burst of luxury, and began

already to look upon a hundred things as necessaries, of the uses of which he had been ignorant five years

before. He thought New York a commercial paradise; not only the place to make a fortune, but the very spot

to spend it in. He wondered at Mr. Hubbard; who could be satisfied to retire from business so early, and was

content to live at Longbridge, the village where he was born. Mr. Taylor looked upon himself as already a

About a week after the Taylors arrived in town, they gave a partyquite a small affair, very sociable, some

eighty or ninety people only. The following morning, Mrs. Taylor, fatigued with the toils and cares of gaiety,

went to her own room to refresh herself by darning more stockings than usual; while Mr. Taylor, who had

laboured hard the evening before by endeavouring to be very 'affable' to some twenty new acquaintances,

sought the relief of his countinghouse. As he walked down Broadway, his thoughts were divided between

two subjects. He had purchased some lots the previous week, which proved so indifferent a bargain, that he

was anxious to persuade a particular friend to take them off his hands. He had also just received letter from

his son, lately Tom Taylor, now T. Tallman Taylor, Esquire. The young man had made very heavy demands

upon his father's banker lately. Mr. Taylor was perfectly satisfied that his son should spend his money freely,

and had given him a very liberal allowance, that he might be enabled to cut a figure among his countrymen in

Paris. But his progress in acquiring habits of extravagance had become of late rather more rapid than was

desirable. As he was to return, however, in the course of a few weeks, his father hoped that he would be able

Mr. Taylor's meditations were interrupted by Mrs. Hilson, who stopped to speak to him as he passed; she

wished to inquire if Miss Adeline were at home, as she was anxious to see her, having a piece of news to

communicate. Having given a satisfactory answer, the merchant pursued his course towards the regions of

commerce, at one extremity of Broadway, and the citylady went her way towards the regions of fashion in

Mrs. Hilson had already returned to her suite of apartments, and her intimate friend, Mrs. Bagman. At the

boardinghouse she patronised; and every morning between the hours of twelve and three, she might be seen

at the window of the drawingroom, if it rained, or flitting up and down Broadway if the sun shone, generally

attended by Captain Kockney, the long {sic} Englishman, whom she took great pleasure in showing off to the

public. On the present occasion she was alone however, and fortunate enough to find Miss Adeline and the

French furniture visible, for it was the first time she had been in the new house. The rosecoloured damask,

and the peagreen satin of the two drawingrooms was much admired, and many compliments were lavished

upon the gilt clocks, the Sevres vases, when Mrs. Hilson remembered she had a piece of news to share with

"And such newsso unexpected to us all; you will be so surprised! The engagement between Miss Wyllys

"I am very quick at seeing such things," she said. "I was sure it would come to that; though Miss Wyllys did

not seem to suspect anything herself. But no wonderan engagement of two years is too long for anybody. I

am sure that in two years I should get tired of the handsomest beau in New York."

The ladies had each their surmises as to which of the parties had taken the first step, and what was probably

the cause; but although Miss Taylor had a pretty correct idea of the state of things, she did not express her

opinion on the subject very decidedly. Mrs. Hilson soon made her curtsey, expressing the hope that they

should see each other very often during the winter; a hope which Miss Adeline was determined not to gratify,

for Mrs. Hilson's standing was not sufficiently fashionable to satisfy her. The visitor had no sooner left the

room, than she ran up stairs to put on her last Paris hat, and her handsomest cashmere, and then hurried off to

The young ladies were closeted together for an hour. We have no authority for revealing what passed, and

can only observe that Jane returned to the drawingroom with a heightened colour, and there was a certain

"Have you any commands for Boston, Mrs. Graham?" the young lady inquired in her usual flippant manner.

"I think I shall go there next week, to pay a short visit to a friend of mine; I wish I could hear of an escort."

"Why, not positively. It depends, as I said before, upon my finding an escort. I have six pressing invitations

from different quarters, most of them acquaintances that I made last summer at Saratoga; and I have been

hesitating between Albany, Boston, or Baltimore. I am determined to go somewhere to spend the next three

"Yes, he must have sailed now. We heard from him last night; he will be here next month, I hope, just in time

for the first great parties. What would you advise me to do, Jane, to get rid of the time until then?"

"I had much rather you would stay at home; if you go, I shall miss you very much."

"But then we shall have the pleasure of correspondingI like the excitement of receiving a good long letter,

"You must not forget to let me know which way you are really going," said Jane. "I will write, though I can't

"Well, you must write, at any rate, I shall see you halfadozen times between this and Monday. I rather

think I shall decide upon Boston. Miss Lawrence says there are some delightful young gentlemen there, and

has promised to give me a ball. If I go, I shall try hard to bring Miss Lawrence back with me. Mind, Jane, you

don't make too many conquests while I am gone. You must reserve yourself for the one I have recommended

to you. Oh, bythebye, Mrs. Graham, I forgot to tell you the news; I am astonished you have not heard it

"It seems the engagement between Miss Wyllys and Mr. Hazlehurst has been broken off."

"You are mistaken, surely! We have heard nothing of it, and it is highly improbable. If there be such a story,

"Oh, there is no mistake, I'm quite sure. I have heard it three times already this morning, from Longbridge

people; first Mrs. Hilson told me, and then I met John Bibbs, and Edward Tibbs, who said the same thing.

Mrs. George Wyllys, it seems, contradicted the engagement openly; Miss Hubbard heard her, and wrote it to

"How grieved I should be if this story were to prove true; you surely never remarked anything, Jane?"

"Elinor seemed to me just as usual; but Adeline thinks there has been some change," said Jane, a little

"Oh, yes, give me credit for being quicksighted; I suspected something the first time I saw them together

"It is what none of their other friends appear to have done, Miss Taylor," said Mrs. Graham, a little severely.

"I dare say not; but I am very quick at seeing such things. If Jane has any mysteries, she had better not

pretend to keep them from me. But it is no wonder that the engagement was broken offI don't believe in

long engagements. We must not let Jane drag matters on at that rate when her turn comes;" and then kissing

her friend tenderly, and making a curtsey to Mrs. Graham, without remarking the disapproving expression of

"I dislike that Miss Taylor, excessively, Jane," observed her mother, "she is very disagreeable to me; I wish

you would find some better companion while we are in New York. There are the Howards, and de

Vaux'svery amiable, pleasant girls, and for a great many reasons far better associates for you."

"But I don't know them so well. Adeline is a great belle, mamma, as much so as any girl in town."

"She is not at all to my taste, I confess. Your father, too, dislikes the Taylors very much. The way in which

she spoke of this story about Elinor's engagement was really unfeeling. Not that I believe it; but breaking off

an engagement without good reason, is no such trifle in my opinion, as it seems to be in that of Miss Taylor."

Jane looked quite agitated; she blushed so much that her mother would probably have remarked it, had she

not been, at the moment, stooping over her little invalid boy, who was lying on the sofa near her.

"Miss Taylor has no claim whatever upon you, that I can see," continued Mrs. Graham. "It is true she was

kind to you when you were ill with the whoopingcough at school; but so were your other companionsand

I am sure she has not been half so considerate and good to you as Elinor, and yet you seem to prefer Miss

"Adeline would do anything for me, mother," she said, in a low voice; "You don't know how much she is

"Foolish child!" said her mother, beginning to relent, as she usually did on such occasions, "I don't wish you

to be uncivil to her; but I should like you to be more with Kate Howard, and Anne de Vaux;" and the

conversation ended, as several others of the same description had done, by leaving things precisely as they

were before. Mrs. Graham, indeed, looked upon herself as having showed much decision on the occasion, and

acted as a watchful mother, by having made these objections, fruitless as they proved to be.

The report that the engagement between Elinor and Harry had been broken off, was soon known to be

correct. It caused some surprise to all who knew them, and much regret to their friends. Mrs. Stanley, who

felt a warm interest in both Harry and Elinor, was grieved and disappointed. The Grahams, and Mrs. Robert

Hazlehurst, felt very unpleasantly when the cause of the rupture came to be suspected. Mrs. Graham was,

however, relieved by finding that there was no understanding between Harry and her daughterthus far at

least all was right; no explanation had taken place between them, and Jane even assured her mother that when

in Paris, she had had no idea that Hazlehurst was attached to her. Still there were many blushes whenever the

subject was alluded to, there were confidential meetings with Adeline, and other symptoms which left little

doubt to her friends that Jane's feelings were interested. Mrs. Graham was obliged to console herself with the

idea, that the mischief had, at least, been unintentional on the part of her daughter.

Harry, himself, was much mortified by the reception of Elinor's note, which, by showing the full consequence

of his conduct, made it appear more culpable in his own eyes than he had yet been willing to believe it. He

even wrote a second time, begging Elinor to reconsider her decision. Full as his fancy was of Jane, yet his

regard, one might say his affection, for Elinor, was too wellfounded, and of too long standing, for him to

endure quietly the idea of having trifled with her. She remained firm, however; her second answer was as

decided as the first. Harry's selfreproach was sincere, at least, and he had never before felt so much

He was less eager than one might suppose, to profit by his newlyacquired liberty. He was in no hurry to

offer Jane the attentions which had so lately been Elinor's due. It is true that his position was rather awkward;

it is not every faithless swain who is obliged to play the lover to two different individuals, within so short a

period, before the same witnesses. At length, after doing penance for a while, by encouraging humiliating

reflections, some fear of a rival carried Hazlehurst on to New York, in his new character of Jane's admirer.

The first meeting was rather awkward, and Harry was obliged to call up all his goodbreeding and

cleverness, to make it pass off without leaving an unpleasant impression. "Ce n'est que le premier pas qui

coute," however, as everybody knows. The sight of Jane's lovely face, with a brighter colour than usual, and a

few halftimid and embarrassed glances from her beautiful dark eyes, had a surprising effect in soothing

Harry's conscience, and convincing his reason that after all he had not acted so unwisely. He soon showed

himself very much in earnest in seeking Jane's favour; though he persuaded himself that he must always do

justice to Elinor's excellence. "She is just the woman for a friend," he observed to himself, "and friends I trust

we shall be, when the past is forgotten. But Jane, with her transcendant {sic} beauty, her gentle helplessness,

THE Wyllyses remained later than they had intended in the country. Elinor, indeed, proposed to her aunt that

they should pass the winter at WyllysRoof, but Miss Agnes and her grandfather were unwilling to do so.

The variety of a life in town would be preferable for her sake to the quiet monotony of a country winter. They

knew she had too much sense to wish to play the victim; but it was only natural to believe, that in a solitary

country life, painful recollections would force themselves upon her oftener than among her friends in town,

It had been a great relief to her to find, that Jane had not acted as unworthily as Miss Agnes had at first

feared; in spite of what she herself had overheard at Miss Hubbard's party, Elinor threw off all suspicion of

her cousin, as soon as she learned that Jane denied any previous knowledge of the change in Harry's feelings.

"Then," she exclaimed, "I shall at least be able to love Jane as before!" She immediately sat down, and wrote

her cousin a short, but affectionate letter, containing only a slight allusion to what had passed. Jane's answer,

"The time will come, I trust," she thought, "when Harry, too, will be a friend again." But she felt the hour had

not yet arrived. She could not so soon forget the past. It was no easy task, suddenly to change the whole

current of feeling which had filled her mind during the last two years. In spite of her earnest resolutions,

during the first few weeks, thoughts and feelings of the past would recur too often. For some time Elinor was

very unhappy; she felt that the strongest and deepest affections of her heart had been neglected, rejected,

undervalued, by one whose opinion she had learned to prize too highly. She wept and blushed to think how

much she had become attached to Harry, since she had looked upon him as her affianced husband. She could

not but feel herself free from all reproach towards him; it was he who, unsought by her, had wished to draw a

closer tie between them. He had succeeded but too well, and then he had forgotten her. The temptation which

had proved too strong for him, would not have deserved the name, had the case been reversed, had she been

exposed to it. And yet she did not reproach him; men think so much of beauty, and she was so very plain! It

was but natural at such a moment, that she should be oppressed by an overwrought humility. She accused

herself of vanity, for having at one time believed it possible Harry could love one like herself. But how happy

Her efforts to struggle against low spirits were the greater, for the sake of her aunt and her grandfather. She

made it a duty to neglect no regular task, and much of her time was occupied as usual; but the feelings which

she carried about to her employment, were very different from what they had been heretofore. It was her first

taste of sorrow; well might her aunt deeply reproach Hazlehurst for his versatile conduct towards her beloved

child. Elinor flattered herself that Miss Agnes knew not half of what she felt. In general she succeeded in

being quite calm, and attentive to others; she was always sweettempered, and unrepining. But she could not

read, herself, the expression of her own countenance, so tenderly watched by her aunt. She was not aware that

the musical tones of her voice were no longer cheerful; that instead of the gay, easy conversation in which

she used to bear her part, she was now at times absent, often silent; she whose graceful wit and youthful

spirits had been until lately the joy of her family. Mr. Wyllys's indignation against Hazlehurst would have

been boundless, if he could have seen him at such moments, as was often now the case, sitting by the side of

Jane, admiring the length of her eyelashes, the pearly smoothness of her complexion, and the bright colour

of her lips, as she uttered some very commonplace remark. Such had now become Hazlehurst's daily

Miss Agnes purposely left to her niece, this year, all the arrangements for their removal to town; and Elinor

was obliged to be very busy. It happened too, quite opportunely, perhaps, that just at that time Mrs. George

Wyllys was coming over oftener than usual, to consult her fatherinlaw and Miss Agnes. Against Mr.

Wyllys's advice, she had to withdraw her eldest boy from the school where he had been first placed, and now

a new choice was to be made. Mr. Wyllys recommended a small establishment in their own neighbourhood,

recently opened by Miss Patsey's brother; he thought it equally good with the one she had in view, and with

the additional advantage of more moderate terms, and a smaller number of boys. But Mrs. Wyllys had a great

deal to say on the opposite side of the question; the low price was an objection in her eyes.

"There, my dear sir, you must allow me to differ from you. I have always intended to devote a large portion

of my means to the education of my children; economy in such a case, I cannot look upon as economy at all."

"Certainly, Harriet, you are perfectly right to secure to your children every advantage in your power. But this

is not a case in point. Thomas Hubbard, you know, was a principal in the very school which you have in

view, and only withdrew last spring on account of ill health. He still continues the same system, and has the

same masters, with the advantage of only four boys besides Evert, to occupy his attention."

This was too plain to be contradicted. "But in my opinion, sir, a large school is very much to be preferred for

a boy. I have thought a great deal on the subject, since Evert has been of an age to leave me."

"I think it a better preparation for their entrance into life. And then they have the advantage of choosing their

intimates from a larger number of boys; Evert's disposition will make it particularly desirable for him. I am

sure, if he were shut up with two or three boys only, he would find it so dull that he would be disgusted."

"Well, my dear, I view the matter in a different light," replied Mr. Wyllys, who would never allow himself to

be silenced, or forced to advise anything against his conscience; though many men would have been worried

into it by such a woman. Unfortunately, Mrs. Wyllys was the only guardian of her children, and Mr. Wyllys

was often obliged to see his daughterinlaw act in a manner that he thought illjudged; but though very

goodnatured, he could never be talked into being a party to such plans. "It is precisely on account of Evert's

high spirits that I should like a small school for him. He would be less likely to get himself and others into

"I think, sir, from the conversation I had with Mr. Stone, he is just the man to obtain an influence over Evert."

"I doubt it very much, sir; I am sick of the very name of Hubbard. Those Longbridge Hubbards are enough to

"Well, Harriet," said Mr. Wyllys, "you seem to have made up your mind; so have I; now what is to be done?"

"Of course, sir, your opinion has great weight with me; you know I am always guided by you."

Mr. Wyllys thought he had succeeded, on this occasion, in gaining his point, by taking his daughterinlaw

at her word; but the very next morning she drove over to WyllysRoof, with a new view of the subject; and it

was not until after halfadozen more conversations, that the matter was finally settled, by Mr. Wyllys

refusing to give any more advice; when his daughterinlaw, of her own accord, determined to send her boy

to Mr. Hubbard's school. It must be confessed that some women, endowed too with certain good qualities, are

very trying, and possess a most vexatious vein of caprice. In the mean time the child was taken sick; he was

Independently of these consultations, and cares about her little cousin, there were other claims upon Elinor's

attention at this time, and those the least romantic in the world. Within the last few weeks, all the men of

Longbridge seemed to have their heads full of a new railroad, one of the first that were made in this country.

All the property Elinor had inherited from her father was in this village, and so placed as to have its value

very much increased by this intended piece of internal improvement. Mr. Hubbard was one of those most

interested in the project, which was of some importance to Mr. Wyllys, also. The gentlemen had many

meetings on the subject, and Elinor was obliged to hear a great deal that was going on; which houses were to

be pulled down, which streets widened, what engineer was to be employed, where the rails were to come

from, at what time they hoped to get the act through the Assembly. Mr. Taylor, of course, was not the man to

allow anything approaching to speculation, to take place in his neighbourhood without having something to

do with it himself. He came over to Longbridge expressly to help matters on; and as Colonnade Manor was

shut up, Mr. Wyllys, always hospitably inclined, asked him to his own house for a day or two. With such a

spirit under their roof, little else was heard of besides stocks and lots, wharves and stores. Elinor's property

was known to be much interested in the affair, and Mr. Hubbard and Mr. Taylor thought it necessary to

congratulate her. Mr. Taylor, indeed, would have been much shocked had he known how very little she cared

{"a new railroad" = The Camden and (Perth) Amboy line crossed New Jersey in 1833, and the Philadelphia

"We shall have to consult you, Miss Elinor, in our proceedings," said Mr. Hubbard, as they were sitting at the

dinnertable; perhaps you don't know it, but you will be one of our stockholders, and much interested in our

"My grandfather tried last night to give me some notions on the subject, Mr. Hubbard; but I am afraid he was

"Oh, I don't know that," said Mr. Wyllys; "I shall make quite a business woman of you, yet, Nelly." In fact,

her grandfather had taken the moment to assure Elinor that it was high time she should have some just ideas

on such subjects, and insisted on her listening to all his explanations, and doing her best to comprehend them.

Elinor tried to be a docile pupil, and really acquired some useful information, which may appear singular to

romantic young ladies, who set up for brokenhearted; as her only object, however, was to gratify her

grandfather, we hope she will be forgiven for anything so much out of character in a heroine.

"It is a beautiful speculation, Miss Wyllys," observed Mr. Taylor. "I suppose you know enough about these

things, to be glad to hear that in a year or two, you will probably realize two hundred per cent. on your lots in

"We shall make a fortune for you, Miss Elinor," added Mr. Hubbard. "You will be the great lady of

"I dare say, Nelly, you will find some way of spending the money; young ladies know very well how to get

"Yes, sir, my daughters are very expert at that; Emmeline thinks nothing of giving fifty dollars for a flimsy

pockethandkerchief, and as much for a flightylooking hat. But I've no objections; I'll tell you in

confidence, that is what we make our money for, Miss Elinorfor our children to spend," added Mr.

Hubbard, smiling goodnaturedly. "I dare say you will find a right use for some of yours. It will be in good

hands, and I hope you may long enjoy it," said he, making a bow to Elinor, as he drank off a glass of

{"fifty dollars for a flimsy pockethandkerchief" = this remark by Mr. Hubbard reflects James Fenimore

Cooper's littleknown novelette, "The Autobiography of a PocketHandkerchief" (1843), as do many aspects

of the greedy and ostentatious Taylor family whom Emmeline Hubbard seeks to emulate}

Mr. Taylor, though he joined in the toast with some "affable" remark, as usual, could not help regretting that

so much money, and consequently the power of making so much more, should not be in the hands of one who

could turn it to better account than Miss Elinor Wyllys. He had a very poor opinion of Mr. Wyllys's

moneymaking abilities, and thought him very "unenterprising." That gentleman, on the contrary, when

brought in closer contact with Mr. Taylor, began to have a clearer insight into his character, and while he

found him uncommonly clever, discovered that several of his propositions betrayed anything but high

Mr. Hubbard, in the mean time, who had known Elinor from a child, was thinking how he could say

something agreeable about love and beaux, supposed always to be pleasant subjects to young ladies. He felt

some doubts about hinting at Hazlehurst, for he thought he had heard the engagement was broken off.

Happily for Elinor, the party rose from table before anything had suggested itself.

At length Mrs. Wyllys's boy recovered, and was sent off to school; and this railroad matter was also

satisfactorily settled. As there was nothing more to detain the family in the country, the Wyllyses went to

MISS TAYLOR paid her visit to Miss Lawrence. One morning at breakfast she informed her parents that she

intended to make an excursion to Boston. "Whom was she going to see?" asked her father. "Miss Lawrence, a

young lady who had passed three days at the Springs, at the hotel where they stayed, and with whom she had

become very intimate." "How long was she going to be absent?" inquired her mother. "She thought of

remaining a fortnight; perhaps three weeks, if she found it very pleasant. Mr. Powell, the young gentleman

who was to be her escort, had been introduced to her the evening previous at a ball, and she thought him

sufficiently fashionable in his appearance, to have the honour of taking charge of herself and her baggage."

Her father observed that he would bring a supply of money for her, when he came home to dinner; her mother

offered to look over her stockings. Everything thus settled, the next morning Mr. Taylor and Miss Adeline

drove to the EastRiver wharf, where the Boston boat lay: here they met with a slight difficulty; the

gentleman engaged as an escort could not be found; something had interfered with his journey. Nothing was

easier than to pick up another, however. Mr. Taylor looked about him, saw a face he knew slightly, and

"I have a daughter on board, sir; and the young gentleman who was to be her escort is not here; will you be so

Mr. Hopkins would be very happy to take charge of Miss Taylor. But Adeline was almost in despair when

she saw him. How could one of the most dashing belles in New York, consent to sit, in view of all the

passengers, sidebyside with such a fat, rusty, snuffy, little old gentleman, who more green spectacles, and

had a red silk handkerchief spread on his knee? Suppose he should ask her to walk, how could she pace up

and down the promenadedeck arminarm with such a figure? She, Adeline Taylor, whose travelling dress

was faultless, and who had expected to have a charming flirtation with Albert Powell! What could she do?

The fates, and the warning bell, decided the question; it was too late to look out for some betterlooking

escort. Mr. Taylor had hardly time to shake hands with his daughter, and jump on the wharf, ere the whizzing

of the steam had ceased, and the plashing of the wheels was heard. Adeline sank on a bench beside the rusty

During the whole jaunt, the fat, snuffy Mr. Hopkins was kind and goodnatured to Adeline, whenever she

would allow him. He thought she must be lonely, and she had been obliged to confess that she knew no one

on board; so the old gentleman held it incumbent on him to be sociable. He took some peanuts out of his

pocket, and offered her a handful; he gave her a couple of newspapers to read; asked her questions about her

family, brothers and sisters, and seemed to look upon her as a schoolgirl. He was not the least impressed

with her elegance and finery, and quite unaware of her belleship; he even once called her "my dear." Then,

the red silk handkerchief was always either on his knee, or in his hand! It would he difficult to say whether

Adeline would have survived the mortification of such an escort, had it not been for two circumstances,

which changed the current of her thoughts. There were several elegantly dressed young ladies on board, and

she soon succeeded in getting up an intimacy with two of them; they exchanged cards and invitations to each

other's houses, and through the same means Adeline was introduced to a couple of beaux. Between breakfast

and dinner, these new bosomfriends and herself were inseparable, but, unfortunately, they were only going

halfway. The grief of separation was, however, somewhat assuaged with Miss Taylor by seasickness,

which, as every one knows, is very destructive to sentiment and sensibility. As long as they were tossing

about near Point Judith, the snuffy old gentleman, who was not in the least seasick himself, was very

faithful in his inquiries after Adeline, and proposed several remedies to her, through the stewardess. At length

they reached Boston. As they drove to the door of Miss Lawrence's father, Mr. Hopkins asked "how long she

{"Point Judith" = prominent cape on the coast of Rhode Island, south of Narragansett}

"I shall be going back to New York about the same time, my dear, and if you have not got some one more to

your taste, I'll take care of you on your way home, with pleasure," said the fat old gentleman, sprinkling a

handful of snuff on Miss Taylor's grey silk, and brandishing the red handkerchief at the same time.

Adeline's thanks were very faintly uttered; but gratitude is not a fashionable virtue. It was fortunately so dark

that the rusty old gentleman could scarcely be seen as he took leave of the elegant Miss Taylor at Mr.

At the end of the three weeks, Adeline returned home, bringing glowing accounts of the delights of Boston,

and talking a great deal about several "delightful young gentlemen," and occasionally mentioning a certain

Theodore St. Leger. She had heard that the Boston people were all BLUE; but it must be a calumny to say so,

for she had had a very lively timeplenty of fun and flirtation. Miss Lawrence returned with her, and of

course a party was given in her honour; there were some eighty persons present, all free from the shackles of

matrimony, apparently to give the Boston young lady an opportunity of meeting a representation of her peers,

the marriageable portion only of the New York community. The evening was pronounced delightful by Miss

"What an absurd custom it is, to have these young people parties," said Harry Hazlehurst, who was on one of

his frequent visits to New York at the time, and was sitting in Mrs. Graham's drawingroom, with that lady,

"The first of the kind that I went to, after we came home, made me feel ashamed of myself; though Dr. Van

"It is paying us but a poor compliment to say so. One would think the young people were afraid to laugh and

talk before their fathers and mothers. I really felt the other night as if we were a party of children turned into

the nursery to play, and eat sugarplums together, and make as much noise as we pleased, without disturbing

our elders. It is a custom that appears to me as unnatural as it is puerile. I hope you don't like it," he added,

"There are a few families you know, Harry, who never give those kind of parties," observed Mrs. Stanley.

Hazlehurst's conscience felt a twinge, for he knew she was thinking of Elinor, whom Miss Wyllys had never

allowed to give these UNMARRIED parties; though she went to other houses, when asked.

"Miss Taylor had collected a tribe of Europeans of all sorts, last night; halfadozen Englishmen, and a

vulgar Frenchman," observed Harry, by way of changing the conversation. "I was surprised when my friend

Townsend told me he was invited; he did not know the Taylors, and only arrived a week since."

"Adeline invited him on purpose; Miss Lawrence is very fond of foreigners, and you know Mr. Taylor calls

"More than disagreeable," replied Harry. "I should not have used so soft a word. I was not a little amused,

bythebye, to see how the fellow cooled off when Townsend and Ellery came in. Your low set of English

"That Mr. Kockney is so very forward and vulgar," said Mrs. Graham, "that I wonder anybody can endure

him. I was disgusted with his manner on board the steamboat from Longbridge, the other day."

"Ellery is no friend of mine; but, pray, don't name him in the same breath with that Kockney."

"Oh, no, Mr. Ellery is a gentleman, evidently; but I don't like his manners, there is something affected about

"Certainly, he knows how to play the coxcomb, and condescends to do so quite too often. But I hope you like

"Yes, he has the best English manner; quite natural, and not afraid to be civil. It is only the best of the English

who are quite free from nonsense. Ellery aims at effect, half the time; Townsend has too much sense to do

"Well, I really wonder," said Jane, "how Mrs. Hilson can endure that Captain Kockney."

"She is really very silly," said Mrs. Stanley. "It is a pity that good, worthy Mr. Hubbard should have

"She is very pretty, though, and dresses very well," said Jane. "Would you believe it, mamma, the other day,

when she called at Adeline's she wore a collar precisely like the prettiest of those I brought from Paris."

"Oh, no; Adeline can't endure her. But she cannot get rid of her entirely, because they meet in the country.

Adeline would like to drop the acquaintance altogether, but she says Mrs. Hilson won't let her, because Mrs.

"These Taylors have really done wonders in the last few years," said Mrs. Stanley, smiling.

"They have been quite as persevering, I dare say, as Mrs. Hilson can be. They are a very vulgar, pushing

Jane coloured, and Harry feared she would shed a tear or two. She was quite agitated. "Dear Jane," he

thought," what an affectionate heart she has!" By way of consoling her, probably, and at the same time

obtaining a better view of her downcast face, he took a seat beside her. He even refrained from making an

observation which he had in petto, upon the volatile character and manners of Miss Taylor, reserving it for

the future; determining that when they were man and wife, Jane should have the full benefit of his opinion of

Let it not be supposed that Harry was too sure of success, in thus looking forward to his marriage with Jane

as no very improbable event. Since he had appeared in the family as her suitor, her manner had been

encouraging. There were blushes and moments of embarrassment which looked very favourably; and had he

been obliged to proclaim all his hopes, he would have confessed that the same flattering signs had been

observed by him in Paris, and had contributed not a little to increase the warmth of his own feelings. There

was now a rival in the field, and one by no means to be despised; but, although young de Vaux was

goodlooking, agreeable, and very much in love, Jane did not seem disposed to smile upon him. To do her

justice, she was no coquette; she was too indolent by nature, to labour very hard to secure several conquests

at the same time. Miss Graham was very much admired, however, and was generally proclaimed the beauty

But if she were a beauty, Adeline was a belle; a pretty, and a rich belle, moreover, and Miss Taylor's train of

admirers was much larger than that of Miss Graham. So numerous indeed were her followers, that she was

seldom seen alone. If she visited, it was with an attendant beau; if she were walking in Broadway, she had

generally one on each side of her; and at a party she was always talking to halfadozen young men at a

time. Miss Adeline was, undeniably, a very popular belle. But all this homage was sometimes attended with

difficulties: one morning she wrote an urgent note to her friend Jane, requesting that she would come to see

"I am so perplexed, that I really don't know what to do! You must decide for me."

"Why you know tonight is Mrs. Thompson's great ball, and I am going, of course; though I have a very bad

"No wonder! I have been so pestered by serenades for the last fortnight, that I have not had one good night's

rest. I had to get up and show myself at the window, until I caught one cold after another."

"You may be sure I shan't stay at home unless I have to keep my bed; I am already engaged for five dances.

"How beautiful they are!" she exclaimed, going to look at them. "One, two, four, six bouquets!Where did

"No, that I shan't; for it was sent just to spite me. Mr. Grant sent itand I told him last night that I hated

passion flowers, and everything else that is sentimental. What shall I do?It is so provoking!"

"My dear Jane, how you talk! That's what I never did in my life. Go to a ball without a bouquet!I can't

"We can untie them, and make up one ourselves, taking the prettiest flowers from each."

"That won't do, either; for it's only the gardeners that can do up these things decently. I wouldn't, for the

"I do believe the young gentlemen have leagued together to provoke me! And this is not all, there are three

"Would you have me take this ridiculouslooking thing, with only one camellia in it! No, indeed;" and for a

moment the two young ladies sat down by the centretable, looking despondingly at each other and at the

"If I could only take the one I like best, it would be the easiest thing in the world; but, you know, all the other

"Why this one, with the white camellias; it came from Theodore St. Leger; he told me he would send one

with white flowers only." Adeline's colour rose a little as she spoke, and as that was not a common

"Why, no, child, he never dances; I didn't see him dance, all the time we were in Boston."

"I like him well enough, after a fashion; as well as one can like a man who never dances, and don't talk much.

"No, he is as ugly as he can be; I really think he looks just a little like that old Mr. Hopkins, his uncle."

"I am sure I don't know. But don't fancy I really care about the man. He is going back to Boston next week,

and I don't suppose I shall ever see him again; but I thought I would take his bouquet, tonight, because he

was so polite to me; and he will be there. Oh, my dear Jane, talking of Boston, I have hit upon an idea!"

"I saw a girl at a party therebythebye, it was Theodore St. Leger's sisterwho had her dress trimmed

with natural flowers; that's just the thing for me!" cried Adeline, clapping her hands. The difficulty thus

happily removed, the young ladies ran up stairs, to determine more fully upon trimming a certain white crape

with the eight bouquets, divided for the purpose. The white one, the offering of Mr. St. Leger, was reserved

SISTERS' children, though bearing different names, and classed by the world in different families, are

generally much more alike than those of brothers; they are apt to have more habits, tastes, and feelings in

common. And the reason is evident; it is usually the mother who controls the internal family policy, who

gives the colouring to what may be called the family atmosphere. The father may pass a statute once in a

while, but the commonlaw which regulates the everyday proceedings of the little community flows from

the mother; and we all know that the character is moulded rather by daily practice in trifles, than by a few

isolated actions of greater importance in themselves. The aims and views which people carry with them

through life, generally spring up from seeds received in the nursery, or at the family fireside. Even with men

this is the case. The father may inculcate this or that political creed into his son, he may direct his choice to

this or that profession; but the manner in which the youth carries out his political principles, the way in which

he fills his profession, will depend on the impulses and motives cultivated in childhood, and early youth; for

it is then that the character receives its bias. The mother's influence and example are often to be traced in

those minute shades of taste and opinion, which are the foundation of our partialities, or our dislikes; and, of

course, the daughters of a family, from being more constantly subject to this influence, imbibe a larger share

of it. It is immaterial whether the mother be aware of the importance of her duties, of the weight of this

responsibility, or not; for good or for evil, the effect will still be felt, though varying, of course, in different

Elinor had not seen her cousin, Mary Van Alstyne, her mother's niece, for several years, and she now met her

in Philadelphia with great pleasure. Miss Van Alstyne was some five or six years older than herself; this

difference in years had, indeed, been the chief reason why they had never yet been very intimate. But the

same distance which separates girls of twelve and eighteen, is, of course, less thought of at twenty and

sixandtwenty, when both are fairly launched into the world. Mary Van Alstyne and Elinor found much to

like in each other on a closer acquaintance; and Miss Wyllys observing that the two cousins suited each other

so well, drew them together as much as possible, in order that Elinor might have some one to fill the empty

Mrs. Robert Hazlehurst was a near neighbour of the Wyllyses in Philadelphia; but Elinor had too much dread

of meeting Harry, to go there often; and it was only when she knew that he was in New York, that she went to

his brother's. The change in their position was too recent to allow of her seeing him with composure; their

family connexion, and the intimate terms upon which they had hitherto lived, only made their present

estrangement much more awkward than usual. Elinor tried to think it fortunate that he should now be so often

The first time he was in Philadelphia after the Wyllyses were settled there for the winter, Elinor escaped

seeing him. As she came in one morning from a ride with her grandfather, she found his card on the table. It

told the whole story of what had passed; for she could not remember his having ever left a card at their house

before; he had been as much at home there as herself, until the last six weeks. The sight of it caused her a

very painful feeling, and did away all the good effect of the pleasant ride she had just taken on the banks of

the Schuylkill. As she walked slowly upstairs to change her habit, her eyes filled with tears; and had she

been endowed with the proper degree of romance for a regular heroine, she would probably have passed the

morning in hysterical sobs. But as she had quite as much good sense, as fancy and feeling, she was by no

means romantic; she had never fainted but once in her life; and although it must be confessed she had wept

during the last few weeks, yet it was always in spite of herself, at moments when the tears were forced from

her by some sudden recollection of the past, or some distressing glimpse of the future. On the present

occasion, instead of encouraging solitary grief, she returned to the drawingroom, and read aloud to her aunt,

But Harry's second visit to Philadelphia was not to pass without their meeting. Mr. Wyllys, Miss Agnes, and

Elinor were spending the evening at the house of a friend, when, to the surprise and regret of all parties,

Hazlehurst walked in with one of the young men of the family, with whom he was intimate. It was the first

time they had met since the alarm on the piazza at WyllysRoof. Poor Elinor, at the first glance, when the

door opened, turned deadly pale, as she always did when agitated. Harry, as he crossed the room to make his

bow to the lady of the house, felt excessively uncomfortable; when he turned, not a little embarrassed,

towards the rest of the party, he received a slight and cool movement of recognition from Mr. Wyllys, who

was standing at a corner of the fireplace. Miss Agnes made an effort to say good evening, in her usual tone;

and Harry replied that he was very glad to find they were to be in Philadelphia for the winter, words which

were as far from the truth as possible. Elinor would have given much to look and speak as calmly as her aunt;

but she could only bow in silence, for at the moment she dared not trust her voice. The lady of the house, who

knew very well how to account for a meeting which seemed very ceremonious between near connexions, who

had always been so intimate, did her best to make matters go off well; and her son, who was also in the

secret, rattled away to Elinor to the best of his ability. But there was a very perceptible touch of cool

disapprobation in Mr. Wyllys's manner, and a something that was not quite natural, in the tones of Miss

Agnes's voice. Harry felt as if he were doing penance, and he felt, moreover, as if he richly deserved it. But

the worst was to come. There was another lady present, a New Yorker, who had lately seen Hazlehurst very

often with the Grahams, in his character of Jane's admirer, and she innocently asked him when he was going

to return to New York. "In a day or two," he replied. "You will not leave the post vacant very long, I dare

say," observed the lady. Harry's answer was not very distinctly heard, and he coloured as much as it is in the

power of man to do. The lady happily observed how much he was annoyed, and changed the conversation.

Hazlehurst was not in a mood to pay a long visit: he soon rose to take leave. Elinor, in the mean time, made a

great effort for selfcommand. She knew that she was the injured party, and yet she felt superior to all the

littleness of resentmentshe acquitted Harry and Jane of all intentional trifling with her feelings. The gentle,

quiet dignity of her manner gradually expressed what was passing in her mind. As Harry passed near her, and

bowed, collecting all her selfpossession, she wished him goodevening, with a calm, sweet voice.

It was now Hazlehurst's turn to be much the most embarrassed of the two; he bowed, and muttered something

about calling, in a voice much less clear than her's had been; then fairly giving up the matter in despair, he

quitted the ground with another bow. On leaving the house, he walked rapidly down WalnutStreet, very

much dissatisfied with himself, and out of humour with his friend, for having brought him into such an

The next day, when Elinor thought over what had passed, she felt relieved that the first meeting, which she

had so much dreaded, was over; although she knew it must he a long time before she could see Jane and

Harry with perfect composure; she knew there must be other unpleasant moments in store for her. There was

no danger but that Elinor would do all in her power to subdue her feelings for Harry, and yet she sometimes

reproached herself with having done too little; her interest in him was still too strong. She shrunk sensitively

from longer encouraging any weakness for him; it had now become a want of delicacy to do so, it would soon

be almost sinful. She knew that if she did not succeed in the endeavour it would be her own fault only; for her

whole education had taught her that there was no passion, of whatever nature, too strong to be conquered by

Miss Agnes, on the contrary, who knew how unexpectedly, and how deeply, Elinor's feelings had been

wounded, was fearful that her adopted child was making too great an effort for selfcontrol; with a girl of her

principles and disposition there was danger of this. Elinor, since the first day or two, had sensitively avoided

every approach to the subject when conversing with her aunt. Miss Agnes knew that time alone could teach

her the lesson of forgetfulness, and she now dreaded some reaction; although admiring Elinor's courage and

resolution, she wished her occasionally to give a more natural vent to her feelings. It struck her that the time

for one open conversation on the subject had come, and the result proved that her opinion was correct. Elinor

threw off a constraint that was not natural to her character, and which had been kept up from an exaggerated

sense of duty. She now spoke with perfect frankness, nothing was concealed; grief, regrets, struggles, all were

confided to her aunt, whose sympathy was grateful to her, while the advice given with kindness and good

Many young people who knew Miss Wyllys, would have smiled at the idea of her being a good counsellor on

such an occasion, for her own life, though useful and happy, had been quite uneventful. The death of her

mother, and the marriage of her brothers and sister, had left her, when still a young and pretty woman, the

only companion and solace of her father. These duties were soon increased by the charge of her orphan niece,

and her time and attention had since then seemed engrossed by these cares and pleasures. Miss Wyllys was

actually never known to have had a regular suitor. Whether she might not have had her share of declared

admirers had she chosen to be encouraging, we cannot say; it is a subject upon which we have no authorities.

Of course Miss Agnes could not be expected to know anything about love, beyond what she had learned from

books, or from observation. She was, nevertheless, a much better adviser than many a younger and more

experienced friend. Where the head and the heart are both in the right place, instinct soon teaches us how to

It appeared to Elinor as if, in future, there would be an additional tie between her aunt and herself; for she

looked forward to leading a single life, hoping to pass her days like Miss Agnes, in that sphere of contented

When Elinor had returned to her own room, after the conversation to which we have alluded, she went to a

writingdesk, and drew from it a letter. It was the same she had received on her seventeenth birthday. It was

from her mother. During the lingering illness which caused her death, Mrs. Wyllys, deeply anxious for the

welfare of her orphan daughter, had written several of these letters, adapted to her child's capacity at different

ages, and placed them in the hands of Miss Agnes, with the request they might be given to Elinor at the dates

marked on the envelope of each. They had proved a precious legacy for the young girl, and a guide to Miss

Agnes in her education; for the aunt had never forgotten that she was the mother's representative only; Elinor

having always been taught to give the first place to her parent's memory. It seemed, indeed, as if her mother's

spirit had never ceased to linger near her, exerting its silent influence. The letter to which Elinor attached so

"You will not receive this letter until you have reached the age of womanhood, years after your mother has

"To separate from you, my darling child, has cost your mother a bitter pang. There is no severer trial of faith

to a Christian woman, than to leave her little ones behind her, in a world exposed to evil and sorrow; and yet,

although so near death myself, it is my wish that you may live, dearest, to taste all that is good in life. Few

mothers are blessed in death, as I am, with the power of leaving their orphans to such kind and judicious

guardians as your grandfather and aunt; should they be spared, you will scarcely feel the loss of your parents.

Oh, how fervent is my prayer that they may live to guard, to cherish you! And when the task they have so

piously assumed is fully completed, may they long enjoy the fruits of their cares!

"It is with singular feelings that I write to you as a woman, my child, and appeal to thoughts and sentiments,

of which you are at this moment so utterly unconscious; sitting, as you now are, at my feet, amid your

playthings, too busy with a doll, to notice the tears that fall upon these last lines I shall ever have it in my

power to address to you. But the hope that this letter may, one day, long after I have left you, be a tie between

us, my Elinor, is grateful to your mother's heart, and urges me to continue my task. I have a double object in

writing these letters; I wish to be remembered by you, dear, and I wish to serve you.

"During the last few months, since my health has failed, and since you, my child, have been the chief object

of interest to me in this world, I have often endeavoured to pass over in my mind, the next dozen years, that I

might fancy my child, what I trust she will then be, qualified in every essential point to act for herself, in the

position to which she belongs. I trust that when this, my last letter, is placed in your hands, you will already

have learned to feel and acknowledge the important truths that I have endeavoured to impress on you, in

those you have previously received. You are already convinced, I trust, that without a religious foundation,

any superstructure whatever must be comparatively worthless. I should he miserable, indeed, at this moment,

if I could not hope that sincere, singlehearted piety will be the chief influence of your life; without it, you

could never know true happiness, or even peace. Rest assured, my child, that while it sweetens every

blessing, it soothes under every evil. Many have given the same testimony when they stood, like your mother,

within the shadow of death. I have every reason, my beloved daughter, to hope that under the guidance of an

humble, sincere Christian, like your aunt, you also will arrive at the same blessed conviction; I know that so

long as she lives, her example, her prayers, her vigilance will never be wanting. I have every reason to

believe that you will be led to seek that which is never earnestly sought in vain.

"I must be brief, dear child, lest my strength should fail. From the many thoughts that crowd upon me, I can

only select a few, which my own experience has taught me to value as important. In the first place, let me

warn you never to forget the difference between Christian education, and all others. Remember that Christian

education has for its foundation the heartfelt conviction of the weakness of human nature; for a being

bearing the name of a Christian to lose sight of this truth, is the grossest of all inconsistencies. The great and

the learned among those who are merely philosophers, preach, as though to know what is good, and to

practise it, were equally easy to mankind. But the Christian alone knows that he must look beyond himself for

guidance, and for support. He knows only too well, that there are times when the practice of some plain and

evident duty, costs his feeble nature a severe strugglein no instance will he dare trust his own strength

alone. He knows that even in those cases where duly is also a pleasure, he must still be watchful and humble,

lest he fall. One would think this truth so obvious, from daily observation, as to be undeniable; but it is now

the fashion to laud human nature, to paint flattering pictures only. Humility is thought debasing; but Truth

alone is honourable, and Humility is Truth. You will find the actions of those who acknowledge this truth,

more honourable to the human race, than the deeds of those who deny it. The true dignity of human nature

consists, not in shutting our eyes to the evil, but in restraining it; which, with our Maker's help, we may all

do, for the blessing of our Creator is still within our reach, still vouchsafed to the humble Christian. If such be

your views, my daughter, you will be prepared to find difficulties in acquiring and practising those virtues

which it is the duty of life to cultivate; you will be prepared to meet those difficulties with the sincere

"Eschew all envy, and petty jealousies, and rivalries; there is perhaps no other evil that so often poisons our

"Cultivate your judgment. Never forget the difference between things of importance and trifles; yet remember

that trifles have also their value. Never lose sight of the difference between form and spirit; yet remember that

in this material world, the two should seldom be put asunder. The true substance will naturally have its

"Cultivate a sweet, frank, cheerful temper, for your own sake, and for the sake of those you love.

"Cultivate your abilities in every way that comes naturally within your reach; it is seldom worth while for a

woman to do more than this. In all you learn, aim at giving pleasure to others, aim at being useful to them, as

"There is one subject, of some importance to you individually, my child, which I have not yet alluded to in

either of my letters; I have purposely deferred it until you will be better fitted to understand me. You will

have one personal evil to contend against, my dear Elinor; your face will be plain, your features will be

homely, darling. It is a weakness, my child, and yet I regret you should suffer from this disadvantage; rest

assured, that in every little mortification to which you may be exposed, your mother, had she lived, would

have felt with you. I trust that this will be the first time your attention will be seriously fixed upon the subject,

and that as a child you will scarcely have thought upon it. Let us then, dear, look upon the matter together for

a moment, calmly and steadily; we will not blind ourselves to the advantages of beauty, neither will we

exaggerate the evils of a want of it. You will soon discover, from your own observation, that beauty in

women, as in children, is delightful in itself; it throws a charm over the words and actions of the favoured

person. In a worldly sense it is also a woman's power; where other qualifications are equal, you may often

observe that beauty alone confers a striking superiority. In some respects its advantages are even greater than

are usually allowed, in others again they are far less. Were we to judge by the space it fills in general

observation, and in conversation, we should believe it the one allimportant qualification in women, that

nothing else can be compared with it. But to adopt this opinion would be grossly to exaggerate its

importance. Nor can we believe, on the other hand, what some prudent writers for the young have affirmed,

that the superiority of beauty is only momentary; that the eyes tire of a beautiful face which they see daily,

that in all cases it vanishes with early youth. No, my child, I do not wish you to believe this, for I cannot

believe it myself. For years, the beauty of my sister Elizabeth has been a daily source of pleasure to me, and I

doubt not to others also. My aunt, Mrs. Graham, though past fifty, is still a handsome woman, and her

appearance must be pleasing to every one who meets her; while, on the contrary, people still amuse

themselves at the expense of Miss Townley, whose face is strikingly plain. Hundreds of examples might be

cited to prove that the charm of beauty does not generally vanish so soon, that one does not tire of it so easily.

And then if a woman lose her beauty entirely, still the reputation of having once possessed it, gives her a sort

of advantage in the eyes of the world. If mere notoriety be an advantage, and in the opinion of the worldly it

is so, the superiority of beauty over ugliness lasts longer than life; many women are remembered, who had

nothing but beauty to recommend them to the notice of posterity. But observe, my child, that if these

advantages are evident, they are chiefly of a worldly nature. A beautiful woman may receive general

admiration, and that homage which gratifies vanity, but she must depend on other qualities if she wish to be

respected, if she wish to be loved through life. I hope, my child, you will always be superior to that miserable

vanity which thirsts for common admiration, which is flattered by every offering, however low, however

trivial. I trust that the mere applause of the world will have no influence upon your heart or your

understanding. Remember what it is that we call the worldit is a ground governed by a compromise

between the weaknesses of the good among us, and the virtues of the bad; the largest portion of vanity and

follysometimes even vicemingled with the least portion of purity and wisdom that a community bearing

a Christian name will tolerate. You, I trust, will learn to seek a higher standard.

"If borne in a right spirit, my dear Elinor, the very want of beauty, or of any other earthly good, may be the

means of giving you the benefit of far higher blessings. If it make you more free from vanity, from

selfishness, it will make you far happier, even in daily life. It may dispose you to enjoy more thankfully those

"Under this and every other disadvantage, my child, remember two things: to give the evil its just importance

"I trust that your temper will be such, that you will not for a moment feel any inclination to repine that others

should enjoy a blessing denied to you, my love. Refrain even from wishing for that which Providence has

withheld; if you have a right faith, you will be cheerful and contented; if you are really humble, you will be

"Do all in your power, my Elinor, towards making your home, wherever it may be, a happy one; it is our

natural shelter from the world. If in public you meet with indifference and neglect, you can surely preserve

the respect of those who know you; and the affection of your friends may always be gained by those quiet,

"In one way, my dearest child, the want of beauty may affect your whole career in lifeit will very probably

be the cause of your remaining single. If I thought you would be united to a husband worthy of your respect

and affection, I should wish you to marry; for such has been my own lot in lifeI have been happy as a wife

and a mother. But I am well aware that this wish may be a weakness; the blessings of Providence are not

reserved for this or that particular sphere. The duties and sorrows of married life are often the heaviest that

our nature knows. Other cares and other pleasures may be reserved for you, my child. In every civilized

Christian community there have always been numbers of single women; and where they have been properly

educated, as a class they have been respectablenever more so than at the present day. They often discharge

many of the most amiable and praiseworthy duties of life. Understand me, my child; I do not wish to urge

your remaining single; that is a point which every woman must decide for herself, when arrived at years of

discretion; but I would have you view a single life with sufficient favour to follow it cheerfully, rather than to

sacrifice yourself by becoming the wife of a man whom you cannot sincerely respect. Enter life prepared to

follow, with unwavering faith in Providence, and with thankfulness, whichever course may be allotted to you.

If you remain single, remember that your peace is more in your own hands than if marriedmuch more will

depend solely on the views and dispositions you encourage. As appearance has generally so much influence

over men, and marriage is therefore a less probable event to you than to others, my love, let your mother

caution you to watch your feelings with double care; be slow to believe any man attached to you, unless you

"Whatever be your position, never lose sight, even on trifling occasions, of common sense, and goodfeeling.

Remember, in any case, to guard carefully against the peculiar temptations of your lot, to bear patiently its

"There are many things that I should still wish to say to you, my beloved daughter; and yet I know that the

cautions I give may be unnecessary, while other evils, which I have never feared, may befall you. My

inability to guide you as I wish, my darling child, directs us both to a higher source of wisdom and love. Let

us both, at all times, implicitly place our trust where it can never fail, though blessings be not bestowed in the

[Here followed a sentence, in words too solemn to be transferred to pages as light as these.]

"Love your aunt, your second mother, truly and gratefully. She has already bestowed on you many proofs of

kindness, and she has always been a faithful friend to your father, and to your mother. Love the memory of

your parents, my child; think of us sometimesthink of your fatherthink of your mother. Honour their

memory by a recollection of their instructions, by a wellspent life. Since your birth, my child, I have

scarcely had a hope or a fear, unconnected with you; if I were to ask to live, it would be only for your sake,

"Your mother's tenderest blessing rests upon you, my beloved Elinor, through life!

This letter had been often read and studied by Elinor, with the gratitude and respect it deserved, as a legacy

from her mother; but lately she had been disposed to enter more fully into the feelings by which it had been

dictated. Every word which applied to her present situation, sunk deeply into her heart.

EARLY in December, a new glazed card was to be seen on most of the fashionable tables in New York. It

was of the particular tint most in favour that season, whether bluish or pinkish we dare not affirm, for fear of

committing a serious anachronism, which might at once destroy, with many persons, all claim to a knowledge

of the arcana of fashionable life. Having no authorities at hand to consult, the point must be left to the greater

research of the critical reader. This card bore the name of T. TALLMAN TAYLOR; but whether in Roman or

Italic characters we dare not say, for the same reason which has just been frankly confessed. It was, however,

a highly fashionable bit of pasteboard, as became the representative of a personage who returned to New

York, claiming the honours of fashion himself. This was no less a person than the Son of Mr. Pompey Taylor.

But the T. Tallman Taylor, whose whole appearance was pronounced unexceptionable by the New York

belles, from the points of his boots to the cut of his moustaches, was a very different individual from the

goodlooking, but awkward, ungainly youth, introduced to the reader two or three years since, at

WyllysRoof. He had, in the mean time, learned how to stand, how to sit, how to walk, how to talk in a

drawingroom. He had learned what to do with his cane and his hat, how to manage his pockethandkerchief

and his gloves; branches of knowledge which an American who sets about acquiring them, usually learns

quite rapidly. He was also very much improved in riding and dancing, and was said to fence well. These, with

the addition of a much better French accent, were the principal changes perceptible to the ladies, who

pronounced them all for the better. Among the young men he was soon found to be an excellent judge of

Chateau Margaux and Rudesheimer; some also thought him knowing in horseflesh, while others doubted his

qualifications in that respect. His father, moreover, soon discovered that he had become an adept in the art of

spending money; among his intimates, cards, and the billiardtable, with other practices of that description,

were hinted at, as the way in which he got rid of his dollars. But as these were subjects not mentioned in

general society, it was as yet the initiated only, who were aware of young Taylor's Paris habits of this kind.

His father had, of late years, learned to set too high a value upon the world, and everything worldly, not to be

much gratified by the change that had taken place in his son. As for Adeline, she gloried in his sixfeet and

his black moustaches, his Paris waistcoat and London boots; while his honesthearted mother would have

loved him just as much under any other metamorphosis he had chosen to assume. Such as he was, young

Taylor soon became quite a favourite beau with the New Yorkers, and was invited to most houses. He proved

himself quite a ladies' man; no lazy, grumbling dandy, but a smiling, assiduous beau. He had not been in New

York a month, before he was known to have sent a number of bouquets to different belles, and was supposed

The last day of December, all New York was set in motion by a fall of snow, sufficient to allow of pretty

good sleighing for fourandtwenty hours. Like such occasions in general, it became a sort of holiday. And

really, the novelty, the general movement, the bustle and gaiety, the eagerness to enjoy the pleasure while it

lasts, always render such scenes very enlivening. Every vehicle with runners, and every animal bearing the

name of a horse, are put in requisition for the day. The dashing sleighs crowded with gaily dressed people,

the smiling faces and flying feathers of the ladies, the rich cloths and furs, the bright colours of the equipages,

and the inspiriting music of the merry bells, give to Broadway, at such times, quite a carnival look. The clear,

bracing air disposes people to be cheerful; even the horses feel the spirit of the moment; they prance their

heads proudly, and shake the bells about their necks, as if delighted with the ease and rapidity of their motion;

sympathizing footpassengers stop to give their friends a nod, and follow their rapid course with

goodnatured smiles. Young people and children are collected for a frolic, and family parties hurry off to

drink coffee and mulled wine, to eat plumcake and waffles at the neighbouring countryhouses. It is

altogether a gay, cheerful sight, enjoyed with all the more zest from its uncertainty.

Hazlehurst was delighted, as he went to his window, the morning in question, to find the roofs and pavements

covered with snow. For several years he had had no sleighing, and he promised himself a very pleasant day.

Mrs. Stanley was going to remain quietly at home. He sent to a liverystable to secure a good horse and a

pretty cutter for himself and immediately after breakfast hurried off to Mrs. Graham's lodgings, with the hope

of obtaining Jane as a companion. "And who knows," thought he, "what may happen before evening."

He had just reached Mrs. Graham's door, when a very dashing sleigh, drawn by four fine horses, drew up

from the opposite direction. Young Taylor was in the coachman's seat; Miss Hunter, Adeline, and a

quietlooking young man, whom we shall introduce as Theodore St. Leger, were in the sleigh. Miss Adeline

threw off her overcloak, and as she gave her hand to Mr. St. Leger, to jump from the sleigh, called out to

"Good morning, Mr. Hazlehurst, you are exact at the rendezvous, for of course you got my note. But you

ought to have brought a lady with you; you mustn't run away with Jane; she is to be of our party in the sleigh,

do you hear?" continued the young lady, trying hard to look pretty and positive, at the same time. "I hope you

"Yes, I did," replied Harry, rather stoutly. "Miss Graham told me the other day, she quite longed for

sleighing, and made something very like a promise to go with me if we had any snow."

"Oh, but not today; I must have her in the sleigh with me! Now, Jane, dear," continued the young lady,

tripping into the drawingroom followed by her brother and Harry, "put on your hat at once, that's a good

Harry had often been provoked with Adeline's constant appropriation of Jane to herself, when they were

together; and he determined, if he could prevent it, she should not succeed this time.

"Miss Taylor is very decided," he said, "but so am I. And I think you must remember you were pledged to me

"Pray, remember we are two to one, Miss Graham," said young Taylor, on the other side, in an insinuating

"But we can all go together," said Jane, blushing, and scarcely knowing what to do.

"If Mrs. Graham were here," added Harry, "I think she would certainly trust you with me. I have a very good

"So are ours, all four of them," said Adeline; "and I'm sure there must be more safety with four safe horses,

"Perfectly safe, Miss Graham, I assure you," added young Taylor. "Of course I should not press you unless I

"Pshaw!" said Adeline. "Why should we stand here, talking about the risk and danger, like so many old

greybeards. Put on your hat, dear, that's a darling, without any more palaver. Anne Hunter and Mr. St. Leger

are waiting for us at the door; you know we are going to Bloomingdale, to lunch, at Mrs. Hunter's. We shall

have a charming time; and Mr. Hazlehurst is going with us too. Of course you got my note," she added,

{"Bloomingdale" = a fashionable and still rural area of Manhattan Island, though a part of New York City}

"No, I did not; but I should have been obliged to decline your invitation, Miss Taylor," said Hazlehurst,

"Oh, that's a pity; I am really sorry, for I wanted you to be of our party; only I couldn't have you run away

with my friend Jane. Silence gives consent, Jane. You didn't answer my note, this morning."

"Perhaps I had better not go at all," said Jane, not a little perplexed. "Mamma is not at home, and will not

"Nonsense, child; Mrs. Graham will know you are in very good hands. You have been out with me a hundred

times before, and you surely don't think there is any more danger because Tallman is of the party."

"I hope not," added young Taylor, in an insinuating manner; "I'm a firstrate whip, Miss Graham."

"Now, just tell the truth; didn't you mean to go with me, before Mr. Hazlehurst came in?" said Adeline"no

"I only received your note ten minutes since," replied Jane; "but I did think of going with you."

"I should like to know why you hesitate, then. First come, first served. Now, the best thing you can do, Mr.

Hazlehurst, is to change your mind, and ask one of the Miss Howards, and join our party, too. I really wish

Jane allowed herself to be shawled and cloaked by young Taylor, and the affair was settled. But Harry

thought she did not seem quite satisfied with herself, for she changed colour several times, and he even

remarked that her fingers trembled as she tied the strings of her hat. This rather softened his feelings towards

her; but he still felt extremely provoked with the meddling Adeline, and her officious brother. As he did not

wish to play the worsted man, however, he tried to put a good face on the matter, and accompanied the party

downstairs, helped the ladies into the sleigh, wished them a pleasant drive, and went off himself, at a rapid

He was exceedingly out of humour with Adeline, and reproached Jane not a little for allowing herself to be so

often guided by her trifling friend. The occurrence of the morning, hastened his determination to bring

matters to a conclusion. That very evening should decide the point. He must have been more than modest to

have doubted the result; Jane's manner he had long thought just what he could wish from one so little

demonstrative as herself. Hubert de Vaux, it is true, had been very assiduous of late, but Jane had never given

him any sign of preference, sufficient to excite Harry's jealousy. Mr. Graham was expected every day from

Charleston, to pass the remainder of the winter with his family; as he had already given one daughter to the

elder Hazlehurst, and no serious objection could be raised against Harry, his prospects were very promising.

Before long, the gentle, lovely Jane would be his own; his would be the enviable lot, of carrying off the

Hazlehurst had time to make these reflections, and disperse his illhumour, before he reached the wharf at

Brooklyn. Here he met Charlie Hubbard, whom he had not seen for some time, not, indeed, since his rupture

with the Wyllyses. Charlie's greeting was not quite as warm as usual; he did not seem as much pleased at this

unexpected meeting, and the offer of a seat in Harry's cutter, as one might have supposed. Hazlehurst was so

cordial, however, and urged the young painter so much to take a turn with him on the Island, that, after a little

"Come, Charlie; I am sure you haven't any very good reason for not making the most of the snow, like the

Hubbard gave a good account of himself and his family. He had received several orders; and his pet picture

of the moment was going on finely. His youngest sister was in town, taking music lessons, to fit her for her

future occupation; and he had just sent Miss Patsey a pair of globes for her school, as a New Year's gift; the

"I feel quite rich," said the young man, "since I pocketed a hundred apiece for my two views of Nahant. To

be sure, I never expect to make a fortune; if I can earn enough to support my mother and sister, and paint only

such pictures as I please, that is all I want of the good things of this world."

"It's all very well to say so now, Charlie, that you have received your two hundred; but wait till you are the

"That day will never come, to me, or to any other man, perhaps, in this country," replied young Hubbard. "I

go to work with my eyes open, as you well know. My uncles have talked the matter over with me a hundred

times, if they have once; they have showed me what I could do if I took to making money, and what I could

not do if I took to painting. They have offered to help me on; Mr. Taylor would take me into his

countinghouse, tomorrow; and Hilson offers to make me an auctioneer. But I have chosen my profession,

and I shall abide by it. I have no wish for wealth. I should never be tempted to sell my soul for moneyno,

nor my good name, or my independence: for I do not feel willing to barter even my time and tastes for riches.

I can honestly say, money has no charms for me. A comfortable subsistence, in a very moderate way, is all I

"I know it, Hubbard, and I honour your decision," said Hazlehurst, warmly. "It is impossible, however, but

that genius like yours should make its way; and I hope you may meet with all the success you deserve, even

though it bring you more money than you wish for: one of these days when there is a Mrs. Hubbard, you may

A shade of feeling passed over the young artist's fine face, as Harry carelessly uttered these words; it seemed

to spring from some painful thought. It was unobserved by Hazlehurst, however, who was not looking at his

companion at the moment. Charlie was soon roused by Harry's inquiries as to his plans for travelling in

Europe. The young men then spent a pleasant hour in discussing different works of the great masters, which

Hubbard, as yet, knew only from engravings and books. Surrounded by snow and ice, they talked over the

THE streets had been cleared of the snow for NewYear's day, by a thaw, and a hard shower in the night. The

sun rose bright and clear; and, as usual, early in the morning, that is to say morning in its fashionable sense,

the greater part of the male population of the town were in motion, hurrying in all directions towards the

houses of their female friends and relatives. It appeared as if the women had suddenly deserted the city, and

the men were running about, halfdistracted, in pursuit of them. After the markets and churches were closed,

few indeed were the females to be seen in the streets; while, on the contrary, troops of men of all ages, were

hurrying over the sidewalks of Broadway, usually enlivened by the gay dresses and bright faces of the

ladies. There were young men running a race against time, carrying lists in their hands with an impossible

number of visits to be paid during the day; there were boys taking their first steps in this yearly course of

gallantry; there were elderly men walking more leisurely from one favoured house to another. All, but a few

grumblers here and there, looked smiling and goodhumoured. As the blackcoated troop hastened hither

and thither, they jostled one another, now nodding, now shaking hands; here, old friends passing without

seeing each other; there, a couple of strangers salute one another in the warmest manner. The doors of the

houses seemed to open of themselves; men were going in, men were coming out. The negroes looked more

lustrous and lighthearted than ever; the Paddies, cleaner and more bothered; the regular Knickerbockers, to

{"visits" = for men to make short calls at as many homes as possible on New Year's Day was an old New

York City custom; "Paddies" = Irish; "Knickerbockers" = traditional term for native New Yorkers}

We have heard nice calculations as to the precise number of calls, that an ablebodied, welltrained

NewYear's visiter can accomplish between midnight and midnight; allowing, of course, a couple of hours

for the toilette, and a moment to snatch a mouthful at breakfast and dinner: it is affirmed, however, that as

great generals have passed days of battle without food, so your chivalrous Knickerbocker should be willing to

forego, on such an occasion, even a sight of the roast turkey and cranberries. Allowing the individual,

however, something to sustain nature, that he may be the better enabled to perform his duties, it is supposed

that a beau, in good visiting condition, should pay his court in not more than three hundred, nor less than fifty

drawingrooms. But, then, to do this, a man must have method; he must draw up his plan of action

beforehand; he must portion out his districts, as they lie on each side of that longest of streets, Broadway; he

must not only study the map of the city closely, but he must possess an accurate knowledge of the localities;

he must remember that some houses have stoops of twelve steps, that some drawingrooms are not on the

first floor. He must NOT allow himself to be enticed into any flirtation whatever, beyond a glance or a smile;

he must NOT indulge the hope of calling twice upon the sweet creature he most admires; he must NOT be

tempted to sink, even for a moment, upon the most comfortable of ottomans or divans; he must NOT return

home to readjust his locks, to change either boots, gloves, or handkerchief. We have heard it asserted, that

owing to some unfortunate weakness of this kind, many a promising youth, unaccustomed, probably, to the

hardships of such visiting, has been distanced in the gallant race of the day, by more methodical menby

It is amusing to watch the hurried steps of some experienced visiter without doors; the decision of his

movements, the correctness of his calculation in passing out of one house into another; and one is sure to

The scene within doors is quite as amusing as it is without. Everything wears a holiday look; it is evidently

no common morning reception; the ladies' dresses look gayer and fresher, their smiles brighter than usual; the

house, the furniture, and the inmates, all wear their most agreeable aspect. The salver of refreshments speaks

at once the occasion; for there, in the midst of richer cakes, stands the basket of homely "NewYears'

cookies," bequeathed to their descendants by the worthy vrows of NewAmsterdam. The visiters appear, first

singly, then in parties. Here comes a favourite partner of the young ladies, there a mere bowing acquaintance

of the master of the house. This is an old family friend, that a neighbour who has never been in the house

before; here is a near relative, there a passing stranger. The greyhaired old gentleman who has the

armchair wheeled out for him, announces his fiftieth visiting anniversary; the buckish youth, his grandson,

has already made his bow, and off again; so {sic} finish his gallant duties. Now we have a five minutes visit

from a declared lover; and who follows him? One who advances slowly and steadily, with a halfinquiring

look; the lady of the house sees him, gives a glance of surprise, is gratified, accepts the offered hand

immediately. That is a reconciliation; old friendship broken off, now renewed, a misunderstanding

forgottenthat is one of the pleasantest visits of the day. All come, bow, look, and speak their friendly

{"New Years' cookies" = the Dutch in New York had special recipes for cakes and "cookies" for each major

Long may this pleasant, cheerful, goodnatured, lively custom be perpetuated among us! As long as the

sidewalks of Manhattan and the canals of Amsterdam last, so long may Santa Claus bring his Christmas

gifts to the little folk; and so long may the gallant Knickerbockers pay to their female friends the homage of a

PERSONAL visit at NewYear's. Cards on every other day in the year, if necessary; but, on New Year's,

carry your good wishes in person. Should not, indeed, a custom so pleasant spread throughout the whole

country, like crackers, waffles, Dutch blood, and many other good things brought originally from Holland?

On the particular NewYear's day at which we have arrived in our narrative, an individual of the reader's

acquaintance, instead of joining the busy throng of visiters, was seen turning his steps through a byestreet,

towards the Battery. He walked slowly through GreenwichStreet, apparently busy with thoughts of his own,

and entering the BatteryGate he continued for some time pacing the paved walk near the water.

"There is a fellow who seems to have nothing to do today," said a young man to his companion, as they

were hurrying across the Battery from one end of StateStreet to the other. "I should like to hire him as

proxy, to show himself in a score or two of houses in my place. I should hand him over half my list at once, if

I thought the ladies would submit to the exchange; he looks like a presentable chap, too."

"Why, it is actually Harry Hazlehurst! What can he be doing, moping about in that fashion?"

"Hazlehurst, is it? Oh, ho!you have heard the hubbub they have had at the Graham's, I suppose?"

"There was quite a scene there, yesterday; my sister had the news from Adeline Taylor, a great friend of her's;

"I thought all was going on there as smoothly as possible. I expected an invitation to the wedding before

"To be sure; so did everybody. But it seems the beauty has ideas of her own. In the first place she refused

Hazlehurst, rather to the astonishment of himself and all his friends, I believe."

"And that is only half the story. She took the same opportunity, while weeping and trembling, to confide to

her mamma that her heart had been for some time, how long I cannot tell you precisely, the property of Tall.

"What, Tallman Taylor? That is news, indeedI never should have dreamt of such a thing."

"Miss Adeline Taylor is the authority. It seems the affair has been going on, no one knows how long, and

Miss Taylor has had the management of it. These girls are sly minxes; they are not to be trusted, half of

"What does he say? Why he is in a sort of ecstasy of despair, I suppose; for the Grahams won't hear of the

At that moment the two young men entered the door of a house in StateStreet. Although their story was,

upon the whole, correct; yet, we happen to be still better informed on the subject, and shall proceed to

When Miss Adeline and her party had returned from sleighing, Harry went to Mrs. Graham's, and finding

Jane alone, he immediately seized the moment to explain himself, beginning by a loverlike remonstrance

upon her having joined the Taylors, instead of going with him as she had already promised to do. Jane was

excessively embarrassed. As Harry proceeded, she became more and more agitated. Her manner was so

confused, that it was some time before Hazlehurst could understand that she wished to refuse him. Had she

not actually wept, and looked frightened and distressed, he might have given a very different interpretation to

her embarrassment. At length, in answer to a decided question of his, she confessed her attachment to another

person; and, never was lover more surprised by such an acknowledgement. Pained, and mortified, and

astonished as Harry was, the name of "Hubert de Vaux!" passed his lips before he was aware he had spoken.

Harry's astonishment increased. He could scarcely believe that he had heard her correctly. To whom could

"Oh, I wish I had some one here to advise me! Adeline may say what she pleases, I cannot conceal it any

"Is it possible," he said, at length, "that there is some difficulty, some embarrassment, that prevents your

acting as you would wish? My dear Jane, confide in me. You cannot doubt that I love you, that I have long

loved you;" and Harry then ran over a variation of his first declaration. But Jane's trouble seemed only to

"Oh, stop, Harry; don't talk in that way," she said; "I ought to have told you before. I wished to tell you when

you first came on to New York, but Adeline said we should risk everything by it."

"I was very sorry when you broke with ElinorI never can have any other feeling for you than I have always

"Nonot engagedonly I have not refused himWe know father and mother dislike Mr. Taylor's

It was but natural that Harry should feel indignant at having been deceived by the undercurrent of plotting

that had been going on; that he should feel mortified, ashamed of himself, and disappointed, at the same time;

vexed with Jane, and almost furious against the meddling, officious Adeline, and her presuming brother.

From a long acquaintance with Jane's character, it flashed upon his mind in a moment, that she must have

been misguided, and gradually led on by others. But the mischief was done; it was evident that at present, at

least, she cared no more for him than she had always done; while, on the contrary, young Taylor had

insinuated himself into her affections. He could not endure to think, that while Jane was indifferent to

himself, his successful rival should be one whom he so much disliked. Yet, such was the fact. It was

infatuation on the part of Jane, no doubt; and yet how often these deceptions have all the bad effects of

realities! He had been silent for some minutes, while the tears were streaming freely from Jane's beautiful

"Oh, if I had not been so afraid that father would never give his consent, I should not have waited so long. If I

Harry came to a magnanimous resolution. "I forgive you, Jane," he said, "the pain you have caused, since I

cannot but think that it is not the fruit of your own suggestions. You could not deliberately have trifled with

me in this way; I owe it, no doubt, to the goodness of Miss Taylor," he added, bitterly. Jane made no answer,

but continued to weep. Harry felt some compassion for her, in spite of her unjustifiable conduct towards

himself. In the course of half an hour, she had fallen very much in his estimation; but he determined to return

good for evil, by urging her to take the only step now in her powerthe only one proper under the

circumstances. He begged her, as she valued her future peace, to reveal everything to her mother; and to be

"Oh," said she, "father will be so angry! And we expect him every day: Mother, too, I know, will think I have

It is probable she might not have had the courage to follow his advice, had not Mrs. Graham accidentally

entered the room at the moment. Her attention was immediately attracted to the unusual expression of Harry's

face, and the tearful, woebegone look of her daughter, which she could in no way account for. Harry,

merely answering her inquiries by a bow, arose and left the room, leaving the mother and daughter together.

Poor Mrs. Graham was little aware of what awaited her. She could not be called a woman of very high

principles, but she had more feeling, and, of course, more experience than Jane. When she discovered the true

state of things, she was very much shocked. She had never had the least idea of what had been going on

around her; far from it, indeed, she had never for a moment doubted that, before long, her daughter would

Little by little she gathered the whole truth from the weeping Jane. It appeared that the two or three meetings

which had taken place between Jane and young Taylor, just before he sailed, had been sufficient for him to

fancy himself in love with her. He made a confidante of his sister Adeline, who, as one of the older class in

her boardingschool, considered all loveaffairs as belonging to her prerogative. Her friend, Miss Hunter,

was a regular graduate of the Court of Love, according to the codenot of Toulousebut of a certain class

of schoolgirls in NewYork. This young lady had gone through the proper training from her cradle, having

been teased and plagued about beaux and lovers, before she could walk alone. She had had several

loveaffairs of her own before she was fifteen. "All for love," was her motto; and it was a love which

included general flirtation as the spice of unmarried life, and matrimony with any individual whatever,

possessing a threestory house in Broadway, as the one great object of existence. Adeline had, of course,

profited by such companionship; and, at the time her brother confessed himself in love with Miss Graham,

after having met once on board a steamboat, and once at an evening party, she was fully equal to take the

management of the whole affair into her own hands. It is true, young Taylor had entered into a boyish

engagement at college; but that was thought no obstacle whatever. She delighted in passing her brother's

compliments over to Jane; in reporting to him her friend's blushes and smiles. With this state of things, young

Taylor sailed for Europe; but Adeline gloried too much in her capacity of confidante, to allow the matter to

drop: not a letter was written but contained some allusion to the important subject. In the course of the year

she had talked Jane into quite a favourable state of feeling towards her brother; he would probably himself

have forgotten the affair, had not Miss Graham arrived in Paris at the moment she did.

They saw each other, of course, and the feelings which Adeline had been encouraging during the last year,

and which otherwise would have amounted to nothing at all, now took a serious turn. Young Taylor was very

handsome, and astonishingly improved in appearance and manners. Jane, herself, was in the height of her

beauty, and the young man had soon fallen really in love with her. Unfortunately, just at the moment that he

became attentive to her, Mrs. Robert Hazlehurst, who was confined to the house that winter, had confided

Jane to the care of Mrs. Howard, the lady who had brought her from America. Young Taylor soon found out

that he was rather disliked by Mr. and Mrs. Hazlehurst, and preferred securing Jane's favour, if possible,

without attracting the attention of her friends. Adeline, on her part, had discovered that her own family were

no favourites with Mr. and Mrs. Graham; of course she recommended the proper degree of mystery, under

the name of prudence. Young Taylor left Paris for England, about the time that Harry returned from his

eastern journey; but before parting from Jane, he explained himself; and if he had not been accepted, he had

certainly not been refused. Thus matters stood when the whole party returned home. Mr. Graham was known

to be a violent, passionate man, and as he had taken no pains to conceal his dislike to Tallman Taylor's father,

the young people had every reason to believe that he would refuse his consent. The idea of a clandestine

marriage had once occurred to Adeline, but never with any serious intention of proposing it. Had she done so,

she would not have been listened to. Jane had not lived so much with Miss Wyllys and Elinor, without

deriving some good from such association; besides, she did not think the step necessary. She believed that

Mr. Graham would give his consent after a while; and young Taylor was obliged to submit for the present. As

for his college engagement, he had paid it no more attention than if it had never taken place; it had been long

Little by little, Mrs. Graham gathered most of these facts from her daughter, whose weeping eyes and pale

face would have delighted Adeline, as being just what was proper in a heroine of romance, on such an

important occasion. But Adeline could not enjoy the sight of all the misery which was the fruit of her two

years' labours, for Mrs. Graham insisted that Jane should see none of the family until her father had arrived;

Harry Hazlehurst, although not quite as well informed as the reader, knew essentially how matters stood. He

knew at least, that Jane and young Taylor were all but pledged to each other; he knew what had been

Adeline's conductwhat had been his own treatment; and as he walked slowly from one end of the Battery

to the other, his reflections were anything but flattering to himself, or to any of the parties concerned. He

blamed Mrs. Graham for her want of maternal caution and foresight; he blamed his brother, and

sisterinlaw, for their blindness in Paris; Jane, for her weakness, and want of sincerity to himself; Adeline,

for such unjustifiable management and manoeuvring; and young Taylor, for what he called his "presumption

and puppyism." And to think that he, Harry Hazlehurst, who prided himself upon being clearsighted, had

been so completely deceived by others, and what was worse, by himself! He was obliged to remember how

sure he had felt himself of Jane; it was humiliating to think what a silly part he had been playing. Then came

a twinge or two, from the consciousness that he had deserved it all, from his conduct to Elinor. He tried to

persuade himself that regret that Jane should fall into hands he fancied so unworthy of herthat she should

be sacrificed to a mere secondrate sort of dandy, like young Taylor, was his strongest feeling at the time.

But he was mistaken: there was a good deal of the lover in his recollection of Jane's transcendant {sic}

beauty. He hoped that she would yet be saved from the worstfrom becoming the wife of Tallman Taylor.

The next day, Harry returned to Philadelphia. The astonishment of all those interested in himself and Jane, at

this rupture, was very great. If Mrs. Stanley had been grieved at Harry's difficulties, Mrs. Robert Hazlehurst

was made quite unhappy by her sister's conduct. She reproached herself severely for her blindness; for not

having taken as much care of Jane as she ought to have done under the circumstances. Like all her family, she

disliked young Taylor; who, in fact, had nothing to recommend him but his handsome face, and his father's

money. Miss Wyllys, too, was much pained by the conduct of one who had been so often under her

careone, in whose welfare she was so warmly interested. She received the news in a note from Mrs.

Hazlehurst, who preferred giving it in that form; and as Miss Wyllys was alone with Elinor, she immediately

It must be confessed that Elinor's heart gave one bound at this unexpected news. She was more moved by it

than any one; more astonished that Jane should have refused Harry; that she should have preferred to him that

silly Tallman Taylor; more shocked at the doubledealing that had been going on; and more pained that Jane,

who had been to her as a sister, should have been so easily misled. Another thought intruded, tooHarry

would be free again! But the idea had hardly suggested itself, before she repelled it. She soon felt convinced

that Mr. Graham would break off the engagement between his daughter and Mr. Taylor, and that after a while

her cousin's eyes would he opened to Harry's merits, which were numberless in her eyes. Miss Agnes

strongly encouraged this opinion; and Elinor fully determined that her aunt's counsels, her mother's letter, and

her own experience, should not be thrown away; she would watch more carefully than ever against every

fancy that would be likely to endanger anew the tranquillity she had in some measure regained.

{Samuel Taylor Coleridge (English poet, 17721834), "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" (I) lines 58}

THE events of the next two months surprised Jane's friends in Philadelphia, almost as much as her rejection

of Harry had done. Mrs. Hazlehurst, of course, knew what was going on in her father's house, and from time

to time informed Miss Wyllys and Elinor of what passed. Elinor had written to Jane, but it was a long time

before she received an answer; her cousin appeared engrossed by her own affairs; as this was common with

Jane at all times, it was but natural that she should be so, at a moment which was of so much importance to

herself. Mr. Graham arrived at the time appointed; and, of course, he was very much displeased by the news

which awaited him. He would not hear of Jane's marrying young Taylor, whose advances he received as

coldly as possible, and even forbade his daughter's seeing any of the Taylor family. Jane was very much

distressed, and very much frightened. As for Miss Taylor, her indignation was so great, that she determined to

pay no respect to Mr. Graham's hostility; she wrote to Jane a long letter, much in her usual style, giving very

pathetic accounts of Tallman's despair. This letter Jane had not the moral courage to show to either of her

parents; she soon received another, with a note from young Taylor himself. As she was reading them one

morning, her father unexpectedly entered the room, and was thrown into a great passion by the discovery. His

temper was violent, and he was subject to fits of passion which terrified his children; although, in other

respects, by no means an unkind parent. Upon this occasion, Jane was frightened into hysterics, and

afterwards, owing to the agitation which had been preying on her mind for some months, she was thrown into

a low nervous fever. During the four or five weeks that she was ill, every morning Miss Taylor called to

inquire after her friend, although she was not admitted. By this conduct, Mrs. Graham's heart, which was of

no stern material, was much softened. At length she went to the drawingroom to see Miss Taylor, for a

moment. Adeline improved the time so well, that she placed herself and her brother better with Mrs. Graham

than they had ever yet been. Jane's illness increased; her parents became seriously alarmed, and Mr. Graham

expressed something like regret that he had been so hasty. His wife often remembered his words during her

daughter's tedious convalescence, which was interrupted by a relapse. In short, matters began to look less

discouraging for young Taylor's suit. There could be no doubt, at least, that he was very much in love with

Jane: Hazlehurst was quite mistaken in supposing that the perfection of her profile, the beautiful shape of her

head, the delicacy of her complexion, or other numberless beauties, could only be appreciated by one whose

taste was as refined as his own: they had produced quite as deep an effect on young Taylor. During Jane's

illness, he had shown the proper degree of distress and anxiety, all of which was reported in the most pathetic

manner to Mrs. Graham, and whispered to Jane by Adeline, who, having once been received again into the

house, kept her footing there and managed an occasional interview with her friend. In short, as we all know,

tyrannical parents are very rare in America; the fault in family discipline lies in the opposite direction.

His daughter's pale face, his wife's weakness, and Adeline's good management, and improvement of every

concession, at length worked a change in Mr. Graham. At the proper moment, Tallman Taylor renewed his

offer in the warmest and most flattering terms; supported by his father, and his father's hundreds of

thousands, he this time received a more favourable answer. Mr. Graham was one of those men, who have no

very high opinion of women; he did not wish to make his daughter miserable for life; and he thought she had

too little character to conquer the fancy that had filled her mind, and made her ill. Then, young Taylor was

rich, and she could throw away money on those knickknacks and frippery, to which, according to Mr.

Graham, women attach such exorbitant value. If she did not marry him, she would fancy herself a victim, and

miserable; if she did marry him, she would fancy herself happy: that seemed to him the amount of the matter,

and with these views he at length gave a reluctant consent. Mrs. Graham had already given hers; Tallman

Taylor was certainly not the soninlaw she would have chosen; but she was farther from being dissatisfied,

than many of her friends thought she would be under the circumstances. Neither the story of his college

engagement, nor the unpleasant rumours respecting his Paris career, had reached Mr. or Mrs. Graham; the

first was known only to Adeline and Jane, the last to a few male intimates. The news, very naturally, caused a

good deal of sensation among Jane's friends in Philadelphia; it was really distressing to Mrs. Robert

Hazlehurst, who looked upon her sister as thrown away, and reproached herself more than ever for having

allowed Jane to go out so often in Paris with their thoughtless friends, the Howards. She could not endure to

think of young Taylor, as actually her brotherinlaw, the husband of her beautiful sister. She had not

supposed that the matter would be settled in this way; she had believed her father's opposition too strong to

As for Harry, he, of course, soon heard the news from his brother. How much of love and of mortification

were still lingering in his mind, we cannot precisely affirm. His feelings for Jane had certainly altered very

much since the discovery of the doubledealing that had been going on; but weak as she had proved herself,

she was still much too lovely, much too wellbred, at least, to be bestowed upon one whom he disliked as

much as Tallman Taylor. There seemed to be something of the dog in the manger, connected with his regret

for Jane's fate, since he had already decided that if she were ever free again, he would not repeat his offer; she

had shown herself to have so little character, that he would not allow himself to be again influenced by her

beauty, surpassing as it was. In fact, Harry had determined to give up all idea of love and matrimony, for the

present, at least. He went into society less than of old, and gave himself up very much to his profession, or

other literary pursuits in which he had become engaged. He had been admitted to the bar, and had entered

into a partnership with his travelling companion, Mr. Ellsworth; much of his time was now passed at his

brother's house, or at that of his friend. He liked his sisterinlaw, and he found Ellsworth's sister, Mrs.

Creighton, who was at the head of her brother's establishment, a very agreeable woman; she was very pretty,

too, and very clever. The Wyllyses were already in the country, when the news of Jane's engagement reached

them; the winter had broken up early, and, as usual, at the first signs of spring they had returned to

WyllysRoof. Of course, they regretted Jane's partiality for Tallman Taylor; to Elinor it appeared almost as

unaccountable as her insensibility to Harry's merits. Mrs. George Wyllys was loud in her declamations

against it; next to the Hubbards, she looked upon the Taylors as the most disagreeable family of her

acquaintance. She had a great deal to say about the dull, prosy mother, the insufferable father, the dandy son,

and the rattling, bellish daughter. Miss Patsey, also, had her moments of wonder; but she wondered in

silence; she did not appear to have any higher opinion of the son, than she had formerly entertained of the

father. With these exceptions, the community of Longbridge in general, who had known Jane from her

childhood, approved highly of the connexion; both parties were young, handsome, and they would be rich, all

Three months of courtship passed over; Jane recovered entirely, and was as blooming and lovely as ever;

young Taylor was all devotion. The satisfaction of his family at this connexion with the Grahams was very

great; it gratified Mr. Taylor's wishes in every way. It is true, Miss Graham would not have much fortune

herself, but Tallman had enough to begin life handsomely. He hoped the marriage would take place soon, as

he wished his son, whom he had made his partner, to take more interest in the business than he had yet done.

In every respect but money, Jane was just what he would have wished for a daughterinlaw; she was

fashionable, she was beautiful, and the position of her family gratified his vanity. As for the plain,

goodhearted Mrs. Taylor, she already loved Jane as a daughter; and to her it appeared the most natural thing

in the world, that Tallman should marry his sister's friend. Adeline, herself, was of course enchanted.

The wedding took place in June. Thanks to Miss Taylor's influence with the bride, it proved quite a brilliant

affair. The ceremony was performed in the evening, and immediately afterwards the newlymarried couple

received the compliments and congratulations of their friends. Jane was attended, on the occasion, by six of

her young companions; and as many young men, with white favours in their buttonholes, were very busy all

the evening, playing masters of ceremonies, escorting all the ladies as they arrived, from the door to the spot

where the bride was stationed. Jane looked surpassingly beautiful; it was the general remark, that she had

never appeared more lovely: the ladies pronounced her dress perfect, and the gentlemen admired her face

quite as much. All agreed that a handsomer couple had not been seen for some time. It was, indeed, a pretty

sightthe beautiful bride, the centre of a circle of her young friends, all, like herself, in white, and in full

dress; pretty creatures themselves, wearing pretty ornaments of flowers and lace, pearls and embroidery. We

say they were pretty; there was one exception, however, for Elinor was there, and many remarks were made

"What a pity that Miss Wyllys should be so plain," observed Mrs. Creighton, whose husband had been a

connexion of the Grahams. "It is the first time I have seen her for several years, and really I had forgotten

"Plain, why she is downright ugly!" exclaimed the youth to whom she was talking. "It is a sin to be as ugly as

that. No wonder Hazlehurst was frightened out of the engagement; I am only surprised he ever got into the

"Well, he has a fine opportunity of comparing his two ladyloves together. Upon my word, I never saw a

greater contrast. I wish Miss Wyllys had not accepted the invitation, though; she is enough to frighten one

"Can you point out Mr. Taylor?Not the groom; I have seen him, of course; but his father."

"Don't you know the boss? It is that tall, stifflooking man, talking to Mrs. Stanley. You see he is trying to

"Yesthat is he, is it? Much the sort of man I should have supposed him. And now, which is Mrs. Taylor?"

"Mrs. Taylorlet me see; there she is, in grey satin and diamonds. I never saw her but once before in my

life. She is a very quiet sort of a body, and keeps out of sight most of the time."

"Very different from her daughter then, for Miss Taylor always put herself en evidence, I believe. If one don't

"To be sure, Miss Taylor is all life and spirits. She is the most lively, animated girl I ever knew. Bythebye,

I think it an odd fancy in Hazlehurst to show himself here tonight; for there was a great fuss last winter, at

"He is a very near connexion, you know; I suppose his absence would have been more remarked than his

being here. Besides, if he was in love once, he has had time to get over it, in the last six months. He does not

"Oh, yesvery clever. But I am not a fair judge, perhaps; he is my brother's friend, and I may be prejudiced

The seats they had left were taken by Mrs. de Vaux and Colonel Stryker: the lady, a middleaged woman,

fashionably dressed; the gentleman, rather more than middleaged in his appearance, and decidedly less so in

"Young Taylor is a handsome fellow, and looks the bridegroom very well!" exclaimed Mr. Stryker. "How

these Taylors have pushed upwards; I never heard of them before I went to Europe this last time, five or six

"That is just about the moment they first burst upon the horizon. Mr. Taylor seems determined to make up for

lost time. He is very disagreeable to us ladies; but the gentlemen like him on account of his cleverness; they

"To judge by his expression, the man seems ambitious of 'les succes de salon,' also. Where did he import his

manners from, I wonder?they have a sort of bright, new look, as if he had not yet worn the gloss off."

"Does he? Can't you introduce me, immediately? 'Ici l'ont fait noces et festins.' I seem to smell the

"I doubt whether you taste it, nevertheless, until next autumn. Everybody is going out of town; they say that

"They cannot have as many grand parties as they are entitled to, on account of the season."

"That must be distressing, indeed, to the bridesmaids. Bythebye, I see Miss Wyllys is one of them. She is

"From a child. Last year no one dreamed of her being a fortune; but within the last few months, Mr. de Vaux

tells me, she has inherited a very handsome property from one of her mother's family; and, in addition to it,

some new railroad, or something of that kind, has raised the value of what she owned before."

"Miss Wyllys is certainly no beauty; but, do you know, I think there is something decidedly distinguished in

her appearance and manner! I was only introduced the other day; I did not happen to know the Wyllyses."

"I have known them all my life, and like them all very much. I rather wonder, though, at Miss Elinor's being

here as bride'smaid. But it is a reconciliation, I suppose. Perhaps she and young Hazlehurst will make up

"Perhaps so. How long does it take a young lady to resent an infidelity? A calendar month, I suppose; or, in

extreme cases, a year and a day. Bythebye, the pretty widow, Mrs. Creighton, has thrown off her weeds, I

"Yes, she has come out again, armed for conquest, I suppose. What a flirt she is! And as artful as she is

pretty, Mr. Stryker. But perhaps you are one of her admirers," continued the lady, laughing.

"Of course, it is impossible not to admire her; but I am afraid of her," said Mr. Stryker, shrugging his

"Not a bithe is there half his time; but then he is young and venturesome. We old campaigners are more

"Yes, there he is, talking to Miss Wyllys. Perhaps he may interfere with your prediction about her and my

"Possibly; but apropos of weddings; why don't you marry, yourself, Mr. Stryker? You have been a

"Oh, these five lustres, I suppose; for I began early," replied Mr. Stryker, who had too much worldly wisdom,

"No, five, honestly counted. I don't know exactly how old I may be; but the other day I heard a fellow say,

"Well, allowing you are only fiveandforty, don't you mean to marry, one of these days?"

"High time; but who will have me?" continued Mr. Stryker, with great complacency of manner.

"Oh, half the young ladies in the room, I dare say; excepting, of course, those who have refused you already,"

said Mrs. de Vaux, mischievously; for it was suspected that Mr. Stryker had met with several rebuffs. This

lady and gentleman in spite of their smiling countenances and friendly manners, owed each other a grudge, of

old standing. Who does not know that where the spirit of littleness and vanity is allpowerful, these petty

trials and triumphs are too often the chief spring of action; as was the case with Mr. Stryker and Mrs. de

Vaux. Happy they, who have good principle and good feeling enough, to cast off folly on so small a scale!

"Tell me what is your taste, and I will look out for you," continued Mrs. de Vaux.

"How kind you are!you don't include Miss de Vaux, of course; for she can't endure me. Like all modest

men, I require only nine hundred and ninetynine perfections in my wife. But then I insist chiefly on two

essentials: she must have money, and she must not have brothers and sisters; I have an invincible antipathy to

"Miss Wyllys is the very person for you. Quite a fortune now, they say; and an orphan, without brother or

sister; all you require. Then, you like her appearance, you say; though she is plain, she is clever, too, and

"Goodness is not to be despised in a wife. I shall require it from the future Mrs. Stryker; though not very

particular about the rest of the world. I am much obliged to you, Mrs. de Vaux, for the suggestion; I'll think

of it," said Mr. Stryker, deliberately crossing one leg over the other, to make himself comfortable.

"You, who know everybody, Mr. Stryker," said the lady, "pray, tell me, who is that brightfaced young man,

"I can answer your question, Mrs. de Vaux," observed Harry, who had just approached, and made his bow;

"that is my friend, Charlie Hubbard, the artist. Don't you remember the fine view of Lake Ontario, that was so

"Rather as a genius should look; your great lions are often very tamelooking animals," observed Mr.

"Hubbard's face only does him justice, however; he is full of talent," said Harry.

"I never saw water like his," continued Hazlehurst; "such variety, and always true to nature. He almost

persuades one to believe all he says about water: he maintains that it has more variety of expression than any

other inanimate object, and has, withal, an independent character of its own; he says it is second only to the

"Look at his view of HellGate on a cloudy evening, and say so if you can!" exclaimed Harry, warmly.

"Well, after all, he says no more for water, than has been said by the poets of all nature, from the time of the

first pastoral; they tell us that the sun will make a bare old mountain smile, and the wind will throw the finest

"Perhaps notWhere is his study? I should like to see what he has done. Is his pencil always amphibious?"

"Yes; I believe he has never yet painted a landscape, without its portion of water. If you wish to see his study,

"If his partiality for water is really honest, it may help him on in his profession. Has he a good

"Decidedly good; and he improves every day. Execution is really allimportant to Hubbard; for there can be

"I suspect though, his notion about expressive water is not original. It appears to me, some German or other

"Very possibly; but Charlie Hubbard is not the man to steal other people's ideas, and pass them off for his

"You make a point of always believing the worst of everybody, Mr. Stryker," said Mrs. de Vaux.

"Suppose, Mr. Hazlehurst, you take him to Mr. Hubbard's studio, and force him to admire that fine picture of

Lake Ontario. I should like to see it again, myself; and Mr. de Vaux has been talking of carrying us all to Mr.

Harry professed himself quite at Mrs. de Vaux's service. Mrs. Stanley, he said, was going to see his friend's

pictures the very next day. A party was soon arranged, the hour fixed, and everything settled, before supper

was announced. As Mrs. de Vaux and Mr. Stryker moved towards the door, they were followed by Mrs.

"Who was the young man you were talking with at supper, Josephine?" asked Mr. Ellsworth, as he stepped

into the carriage after Mrs. Creighton and Harry, in driving away from the wedding.

"Oh, that was the groom's brother, Mr. Pompey Taylor, the younger, a very simple, and rather an awkward

young gentleman. I had the honour of making the acquaintance of all the family, in the course of the evening.

I was quite amused with Mr. Taylor, the father; he really seems to have as great a relish for the vanities of

"That is difficult to believe of a clever, calculating man of fifty," observed Mr. Ellsworth.

"All clever men of fifty are not quite free from nonsense, take my word for it," said the lady.

"I appeal to Mr. Hazlehurst, who knows Mr. Taylor; as for myself, I am convinced by the man's manner this

"You are certainly correct in your opinion, Mrs. Creighton. Mr. Taylor is, no doubt, a clever man; and yet he

takes delight in every piece of finery about his house. He is more possessed with the spirit of sheer

"Ah, you want to save the credit of your sex, by setting him down as an exception!that is not fair, Mr.

It was a pity that the pretty smile which the lady bestowed on her brother's friend was entirely thrown away;