CHAPTER III.
If Edward Ross, or Psyche his wife, or Bim, the nurse of Geoffrey his son, had any hope that Agnes Verney and Priscilla Verney, and Bloody Mary, their sister, would decline the invitation, or that any one of them would decline it, they were very much mistaken. Allowing a day and a half for the letter to go to Painted Post, and a day for the three ladies to pack their trunks, and a day and a half for them to come to Boston, you have four days, which is precisely the interval which passed between the mailing of the letter and the arrival, late at night, of a carriage at Edward Ross's door with the three ladies, and of an express-wagon with the six trunks with which they had prepared for the ten days' visit. This was the night of the 14th, and, as they had been kindly informed by Psyche, their visit must end on the 24th.
And such a visit as it was! Not one day was unprovided for by Edward's forethought, and one amusement after another crowded upon the time, so that, if it were possible, the three ladies might not have a moment's time either for caballing against each other, or for lecturing poor Psyche. It was a little funny to see how, as a matter of course, they all taught her how to carry on her household. They would tell her, to Edward's great amusement and to her well-concealed rage, how to cheapen her mutton, how to keep her butter, how to save eggs in her sponge-cake, and even how to arrange the dishes on the table. Everything was elegant and tasteful in Psyche's house, wholly beyond any standard which they had ever seen at home; but all the same, they would make this suggestion and give that direction, as if, she said to her husband, crying, one morning—"as if this were poor papa's house, and I were Cinderella again."
And Edward only laughed and kissed her, and said, "O my sunbeam, keep a bright eye for them! There are now only six days more, and then Mrs. Grundy will be satisfied. 'Olim meminisse juvabit.'" And then he pinched her ear, and she pulled his whiskers, and she laughed through her tears.
The first day was a day fresh from heaven; the apple-blossoms were in their prime, the air was sweetness itself; and after a late breakfast two pretty carriages came to the door. And Psyche took Agnes, who was the least hateful of the three, in her little pony-carriage, and herself drove Puss and Doll, her pretty ponies, after she had given to each an Albert biscuit from her own hand. And Edward took Priscilla and Bloody Mary with him, and as he passed the Norfolk House, he stopped and picked up Jerry Fordyce, who was stout and handsome and jolly, and Jerry took the back seat with Bloody Mary, and flirted desperately with her all that day, while Priscilla sat with Edward, and for miles on miles drove his beautiful bays. And they took a drive more lovely than any of these girls had ever seen. They came out upon the sea-shore—I will not tell you where. They ate such a dinner as neither Bloody Mary nor Agnes nor Priscilla had ever dreamed of. They came home by five in the afternoon, and Edward made all the women lie down and sleep. And when they had waked, he made them all dress again, and there were two carriages at the door, which took them to see Warren at the Museum. And they laughed till they almost died. And then they had a charming little supper in a private room at Copeland's; and after midnight they all came home. And this was what Psyche meant when she said she lived very quietly, and was not at all gay!
Bloody Mary was literary, and she had said at breakfast, the first day, that she hoped they should see some of the Boston literati; that she should be ashamed to go home to Painted Post unless she had seen Mr. Fields and Mr. Lowell and Mr. Longfellow and Dr. Holmes. And the second day, Edward said, should be Polly's day, and they should see the bookshops and the libraries. So this day he did not order the ponies, but two open barouches came up, and they drove first to the dear old corner of Hamilton Place, and went up to the pretty "authors' parlor" of Fields & Osgood. And Mr. Fields came in and told them some very pretty stories, and gave Bloody Mary an autograph of Tennyson; and Mr. Osgood and Mr. Clark came in and showed them the English advance-sheets of the new Trollope, and some copy of the new Dickens in manuscript. And the gentlemen begged all the ladies to come up whenever they passed in shopping. Then Edward took them to the Historical Rooms, and they saw Prescott's sword and Linzee's. Mr. Winthrop happened to come in, and they saw him; and Dr. Holmes was there, looking at some old MSS., and he was very courteous to the ladies, and showed Miss Polly the picture of Sebastian Cabot. Then they drove out to the College Library, and while they were looking at the old missals and evangelistaries, it happened that Mr. Longfellow crossed the hall and spoke to Edward; and Edward actually asked Agnes and Polly if he might present Mr. Longfellow to them; and then found Priscilla, and presented him to her and to Psyche. And when Mr. Longfellow found they were strangers, he told them just what they should see and how they should see it. And Polly slipped out her album, and he wrote his name in it, and said he was sorry he could not stay longer; but he pointed out to her some of the most interesting autographs there. And then they started for the Museum, and by great good luck they met Lowell in Professors' Row. And Edward stopped the carriage, actually, and hailed him, and asked if he should be at home in an hour; and when Mr. Lowell said he was engaged with a class, Edward arranged—so promptly!—that they should all go and hear his lecture. And then they went to the Museum, and by the same wonderful luck Agassiz was going out as they came in; and he turned back, and showed the ladies everything. That was a day indeed! They came home to the most beautiful little family dinner, and in the evening they all went to Selwyn's Theatre, where was another charming play.
There was quite a similar day on the strength of a word from Agnes. Agnes was so much awed at first by Edward's hospitable condescension and by his giving up so much of his time to them that she did not dare to be cross for the first four days. But she did say to him that Polly's pretence of letters was all nonsense, and, that for her part, she was interested in politics and social reform; that at an era like that, when etc., etc., etc., every true woman ought etc., etc., etc., for the benefit of etc., etc., etc. So the very next day he showed them all a note from Mr. Sumner, saying that if the ladies would excuse the formality of a call, he should be happy to show them his prints and some other things which would please them at noon, and enclosing tickets for reserved seats to an address he was to deliver in the evening. That day was wholly given to politics and politicians. They went to the State-House, and sat in a sort of private gallery, when the young Duke of Gerolstein, who was on his travels, was received on the floor; and several very handsome and very nice young senators and representatives came up and were presented to the ladies. And when it came time for lunch, Edward invited three of the very nicest to go down to Parker's to a little dinner he had ordered there, and they had a very jolly time, in which Agnes studied social reform with a very merry senator from Essex County, quite to her heart's content.
As for Priscilla, she spoke but coldly of literature and politics, though she did not object to the dinner at Parker's or to flirting with senators. But she said to Edward that her heart was with the poor and sinful; that she would gladly do something in this complex civilization of ours to save those that were lost. How happy could she be if she were only eating locusts and wild honey on the brink of Jordan! But that seemed impossible, and she sighed. So a day was arranged for charity and its ministers—failing locusts. Fortunately the Diocesan Convention was in session, and among the presbyters and delegates Edward seemed as much at home and at ease as among the literati and the politicians. He presented Dr. Temple and Dr. South and Mr. Teinagle to the girls, and these gentlemen explained to them all the proceedings. At the little lunch for delegates and their wives, the bishop spoke courteously to all of them, and Edward brought to them the very famous Bishop of Parabata, who was on his travels to a Pan-Anglican Council. After the lunch they heard Mr. Tillotson preach, and then they were whisked down to the North End Mission, where there was that day an entertainment for destitute shop-girls. And here Mrs. Oberlin, a very famous philanthropist, enlisted them all to help her in her table at the great Fair in the Music Hall for the benefit of the mission; and then the next day all the girls spent a very charitable and very successful afternoon.
But I did not describe that week at Hermon. Why should I describe these ten days at Boston? A day at Nahant, al fresco, with two perfect black waiters, who arranged the lunch on the grass, because no one had moved down to Nahant so early; a visit to Plymouth and the Forefathers' Rock; a visit to the Antiquarian Hall at Worcester, and one to the witches' home at Salem,—these occupied so many days. Then there was the famous ball given by the City of Boston to the Duke of Gerolstein in the Boston Theatre, when all Colonnade Row was taken for supper-tables.
The old rules of the Verney family were wholly violated: all four of the girls went; and they danced with elegant young men till they almost died. And at last not only the ball was over, but everything else was over; and on the 24th of May the girls went home, after such a visit as even they were staggered to look back upon.
Edward and Psyche took them to the train, and, when it had fairly rolled out of the station, she took both his hands, and they looked each other in the face and laughed till the tears ran out of all four eyes. And, as they mounted the carriage, Psyche said, "Now we will live like civilized beings again!"