MR. AND MRS. CHAPMAN DISAGREE FOR THE FIRST TIME.
A bright light burned in Chapman's parlor that night, and the ponderous Mrs. Chapman sat nursing her dignity in a great new rocking-chair. Her little pale-faced husband, with keen eyes, and his hair somewhat longer than usual, sat beside the lamp on the round table pouring over a book. There was an air of improvement about the parlor, an evidence, indeed, that the Chapmans had renounced their Dogtown habits, and were bent on getting up in the world. New carpets, new mirrors, new furniture, and window-curtains such as had not been seen in Nyack before, had been got from New York. You must make your style of living, Mrs. Chapman said, keep pace with the progress of the family. And it would not do to let those new, rich, and stylish people who were coming up from New York get ahead of you in the way of elegance.
Mrs. Chapman no longer condescended to prepare the sausage meat and pumpkin pies; in a word, to do the work of her own kitchen. She could afford, she said, to keep two "helps," a cook and a chambermaid, to take it easy and put on the lady, and to give evening parties that quite outdid in the way of nice little suppers anything their neighbors could give. There was, however, a number of people in Nyack who shook their heads at the pretensions of the Chapmans; said they were putting on too many airs, and made no response to Mrs. Chapman's invitations. Others, when a little scandal was necessary to keep up the interest of an evening, would insinuate that they had "originally" been very common and vulgar people. But now, like most New England people of that class, they were not only trying to force their opinions down other and honester people's throats, but had a way of meddling with business that did'nt concern them, and making themselves disagreeable generally. When Holbrook disappeared in disgrace, there were persons malicious enough to say that the Chapmans had better mend their own morals before they went to patching other people's up.
Mrs. Chapman could dress of an evening in silk, wear kid gloves that came from France, and had plenty of real French lace on her caps. Few persons in Nyack at that day could do such things and pass for honest people.
"My dear," said Mrs. Chapman, addressing herself to her small, but intellectually great, Mr. Chapman; "my dear." She paused for a moment, as her face assumed an air of seriousness. "We must turn our backs entirely on Dogtown. Dogtown won't do to elevate the family on. We never can rise in the world with Dogtown on our shoulders. And if we would live down that scandal brought on us by Holbrook, (an indiscretion, I think you called it,) we must keep our heads up." She paused, shook her head in pity, and raised her fat, waxy hands. "I can't sleep of nights, thinking of it. Lays a body's feelings out terribly. But he was so wonderfully clever." Her face brightened up as she said this. "Wonderfully clever," she interpolated. "It was his mental greatness I always subsided to and admired. Clever people have their weaknesses as well as people what are not as clever. I sometimes thought you had yours, my dear—"
"My dear!" interrupted Chapman, with an air of surprise, "what do you mean? Hav'nt I been a finished husband, and a loving father?"
"You are just as good, my dear, as husbands can be made." Mrs. Chapman said this condescendingly, and with an air of admiration truly grand. "But then, you know," she said, more mildly, "there was that handsome widow you used to be so polite to, my dear. You know I detected her waving a handkerchief once. Then you said it was one you left at the house; and so I never thought of it again."
"I never let the past trouble me, my dear, never. A man of forethought, of progressive ideas, looks always ahead, and by his acts proves that he is up square with the spirit of the age. I have a new conception. Yes, my dear, a new conception. Nothing figurative about it, my dear. I have a new and grand conception, which I have been evolving in my mind for some time, and now I am getting it into a scheme which I am sure will be profitable."
"My dear husband," said Mrs. Chapman, in a strain of intense excitement, "do let us know what it is."
"Of great importance to us both," he replied, with great seriousness, as he brushed his long black hair back over his parchment-like forehead.
"I'll be bound it refers to what took place to-day between our Mattie and that young sailor. I saw it all; and you saw it all, too, my dear, and you never said a word. We never can agree on that matter, my dear, never. On everything else we can. You can't mistake what two young people mean when they go to waving handkerchiefs, and picking wild flowers in the woods. This little love matter must be stopped before it gets into a big one. Yes, it must, my dear. So fine a young woman as our daughter condescending to marry a sailor! As I said before, my dear, you know I have had experience in these matters—"
"In other matters, you know, Mrs. Chapman, I have always yielded to you—"
"And I have always yielded to you," resumed the anxious woman, "and never considered it a condescension. But in this I must have my own way." And Mrs. Chapman got up and walked to a window overlooking the Tappan Zee. The night was bright and starlight, and shadows were flitting and dancing over the smooth waters. The picture of the ship, with Tite waving Mattie an adieu from the forecastle, haunted her mind.
"If that ship goes to the bottom of the sea, not a tear shall I shed—not a tear!" resumed the speaker, in an agitated tone. "And I have as tender a heart as anybody. But we must elevate the family. That's laudable, you know. Nice people are very particular about these things. And you know how much there is in names. Think of elevating the family by taking a man by the name of Toodlebug into it! Think of our going to live in New York with such a name. Everybody would say Toodlebug! Toodlebug! and nobody would come to our daughter's parties." The good woman ran on in this way for several minutes, compelling her dear Chapman to keep the peace. At length she settled back into her rocking chair, and there was a pause.
"My dear," said Chapman, meekly, "I have always held that a man could commit no greater folly than that of quarrelling with a woman on a question of family pride. In such a contest the man is sure to get the worst of it. I say this understandingly, my dear." And Chapman shut up his book, and looked up into his wife's face, as if to watch the changes of her countenance.
"We may agree on that matter yet, my dear. A man is never so low by birth (I mean in this country, at least,) but that he may rise to the highest office of honor and trust—"
"Not with such a name as Toodlebug—never!" Mrs. Chapman interrupted, curtly.
"That's a mistake, my dear. Names never distinguished people. A man's merit and money are the things that do it. This is a free country. A woman may have as many quarrels as she pleases, and have her own way in things generally. Nothing personal, my dear.
"But to go back to what I was pondering over when you interrupted me. A family never gets through the world easy without a solid basis; and I was thinking how to give a solid basis to our little family. Marrying is all well enough in its way; but the woman who marries a man without a solid basis, either in money or character, marries into misery. That's my philosophy—"
"Exactly!" interrupted Mrs. Chapman, with a stately nod of the head, and rubbing her fat hands. "Now you talk as I like to hear you. There's no getting up in the world without money."
"I intended to make that point in my logic, and was coming to it, my dear. You see, we have got the building and everything in it, all our own. And we have got two or three thousand dollars, all put away for a wet day. Property all honorably made. Heaven knows I would not have a dollar that was not. That, my dear, is a good beginning for a good basis. We must keep adding to it; keep the tide flowing in the channel of success. I was thinking, my dear, of inventing a new religion."
"My dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Chapman, with an air of astonishment, "what an inventive head you have got. But you have said so often that there was too much religion in the world, and not enough of true goodness."
"Of the old kind, I meant, my dear;" resumed the little man. "What I mean is to invent a religion that is new and novel, has something broad and attractive in it, and that people of a curious turn of mind would pay for enjoying. That's the kind of religion that pays, you see. And if we could put the church on its feet again with something of that kind. It's the propensity people have to go galloping after new things in religion that we must study and turn to our advantage if we would be prosperous." The little man fretted his fingers nervously through his unkept hair, and his face assumed an air of great seriousness.
"How, my dear," enquired Mrs. Chapman, "could you put the church on its feet with such a load of scandal on its back? Could'nt you invent something else that would be novel and profitable?"
"There's where my new conception was coming in. That's the point I was considering when you interrupted me with Mattie's love affair," Chapman replied, looking more serious than ever.
"It struck me that we might do something profitable by getting up a company for the discovery of Kidd's treasure. 'The Great Kidd Discovery Company' would be a good name, my dear. You must always give a company a good name. Then you must manage it with tact and prudence. A prodigious enterprise, my dear. These simple-minded and honest Dutch people would fall into it like a flock of sheep. They honestly believe Kidd was a bold pirate, who amassed a great fortune by plundering towns on the Spanish Main. That, having more gold and silver than he could invest to advantage, he buried it on the bank of the river, a few leagues above this place, where he entered into an agreement with the devil to stand guard over it until he returned. They believe, also, that Hanz Toodleburg, whose father knew Kidd well, and perhaps had something to do with his adventures, is the only man now living who possesses the secret of where that treasure is buried."