CHAPTER I.
"You had better leave Harry alone about that girl," said Tom Leveredge to his sisters, who were talking very fast, and sometimes both together, in the heat and excitement of the subject under discussion. "You only make Harry angry, and you do no good. Take my advice, and say no more to him about her."
"And let him engage himself without one word of remonstrance," exclaimed Miss Leveredge, despairingly.
"You don't know that he means to engage himself," argued Tom; "and if he does, opposition wont prevent him. On the contrary, it may settle a passing fancy into a serious feeling; and if he does not mean it now, you are enough to put it into his head, with all the talk you make about it."
"She'll put it into his head," ejaculated Miss Leveredge, scornfully. "Leave her alone for that. She'll get him—I know she will," she continued, almost in tears at the thought. "It's too bad!"
"What do you think about it, Tom?" inquired Mrs. Castleton, earnestly. "Do you think with Emma, that it will end in his having her?"
"I should not be surprised," replied Tom, coolly.
"Then you think he is in love with her?" continued his sister, mournfully.
"There's no telling," replied Tom. "He's a good deal with her; and if he is thwarted at home, and flattered by her, I think it very possible he may fancy himself so, whether he is or not."
"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Castleton, "that would be melancholy, indeed—to be taken in without even being attached to her!"
"Don't be in such a hurry," said Tom. "I don't know that he is not in love with her, or that he is going to be taken in; but I do say, that Emma's course is very injudicious."
"What is that?" inquired Mrs. Castleton.
"Oh, abusing the girl so—saying she is vulgar, and—"
"I am sure I did not say any thing that is not true," said Emma, with some spirit. |
"Perhaps not," replied Tom; "but it is not always wise to be forcing the truth upon people at all times, and in all tempers."
"Where on earth did Harry become acquainted with her?" asked Mrs. Castleton.
"That's more than I can tell you," replied Tom. "He told me that Jewiston introduced him."
"I never could bear that Jewiston," remarked Miss Leveredge; "I always thought him very under-bred and vulgar. Why will Harry have any thing to do with him?"
"Who—Jewiston? He's a clever fellow enough," said Tom.
"Oh, Tom! how can you say so!"
"So he is," persisted the young man. "He's not very refined or elegant, I grant you—but still a very good fellow."
"And so you think, Tom," continued Mrs. Castleton, still intent on the main theme, "that in all probability Miss Dawson will be our sister-in-law?"
Emma shivered.
"I don't think it probable, but very possible," replied the young man, "particularly under the present system of family politics."
"And it would be very bad." pursued Mrs. Castleton, inquiringly.
"Oh, dreadful!" ejaculated Emma.
"There's nothing very dreadful about it," remonstrated Tom; "it would not be pleasant, certainly—but that's all. There's no use in making the matter worse than it is."
Emma looked as if that were impossible, but said nothing, while Mrs. Castleton continued with—
"What kind of a set is she in—and what are the family?"
"Very low, vulgar people," said Emma.
"Now, Emma, there again you are exaggerating," rejoined Tom. "They are not a low set—vulgar, I admit."
"The same thing," persisted Emma.
"It's not the same thing, Emma," said the young man, decidedly. "They are very far from being low people. Her father is a highly respectable man, and, indeed, so are all the family—not fashionable, I grant you."
"Fashionable!" ejaculated Emma, with a smile full of scornful meaning.
"But I admit," continued Tom, "that it is not a connection that would altogether suit us. I should be as sorry, perhaps, as any of you to see the thing take place."
"And what is the girl in herself," pursued Mrs. Castleton.
"A vulgar, forward, ugly thing," said Emma, speaking quickly, as if she could not help herself—the words must out, let Tom say what he would.
Tom said nothing, however.
"Is she?" said Mrs. Castleton, looking very much distressed, and turning to her brother.
"Emma will have it that she is," he replied.
"Now, Tom, you know she is," expostulated Emma.
"No, Emma," said Tom, "if you will permit me, I know no such thing."
"You surely don't admire her, too," said Emma, with a look of mingled alarm and disgust.
"No," said Tom, "she is as you say, vulgar, and somewhat forward—but not ugly. On the contrary, she is decidedly handsome."
"Handsome!" repeated Miss Leveredge. "Do you call her handsome, with all those hanging curls, and that feronière, and her hat on the very back of her head; with her short petticoats and big feet—and such bright colors, and quantity of tawdry jewelry as she wears, too."
"You women never can separate a girl from her dress," said Tom, laughing. "Miss Dawson dresses execrably, I grant you; but give her one half of the advantages of the girls that you see around you in society, and she would be not only pretty, but beautiful."
"Then she may be improved," said Mrs. Castleton, hopefully.
"Not much of that," said Tom. "She is very well satisfied with herself, I imagine."
"Oh, it's evident she's a public belle and beauty in her own set," said Emma. "She's full of airs and graces."
Mrs. Castleton sighed.
"It's a bad business, I am afraid," she said, mournfully.
"No," said Tom, stoutly, "it's not pleasant, and that's all. The girl may make a very good wife, though she does dress badly. She looks amiable, and I dare say has sense enough."
"It's not her dress only," persisted Emma, "but her manners are so bad."
"Well, many a flirty girl has settled into a very respectable married woman," continued Tom.
"Where have you seen her, Emma?" asked Mrs. Castleton.
"Tom pointed her out to me one night at the theatre; and I have since seen her in the street frequently."
"Then you do not know her at all?" continued Mrs. Castleton, with some surprise in her tone. "How, then, do you know any thing about her manners, Emma?"
"It's not necessary to know her to know what her manners are," replied Emma. "One glance across the theatre is enough for that. She had two or three beaux with her—indeed, I believe she was there only with them—"
"Her mother was with her, Emma," interposed Tom, decidedly.
"Well," continued Emma, a little provoked at being set right, "she ought to have made her behave herself, then."
"But how did she behave, Emma?" pursued Mrs. Castleton, who had been absent from the city during the rise and progress of this flirtation, and was now anxious for as much information as could be obtained on the subject.
"Oh, laughing, and flirting, and shaking her long curls back, and looking up to their faces—perfectly disgusting!"
Mrs. Castleton looked at her brother in the hopes of some amendment here on his part; but he only smiled, and shook his head, and said,
"Pretty much so, Emma."
"And then, dressed—oh, you never saw a girl so bedizzened!"
"Strange!" said Mrs. Castleton. "that Harry should admire such a girl. He is generally rather critical—hates particularly to see you at all over-dressed, Emma. He never would admire Fanny Lewis, you know, because she had something of that manner. I wonder he should admire this girl."
"Oh, it all depends very much upon the clique in which a man sees a girl how she strikes him," said Tom. "Miss Dawson's manners are very much those of the girls around her, quite as good, if not better; then she is really handsome—moreover, very much admired, the belle of the set; and Harry's vanity is rather flattered, I suppose, by the preference she shows him."
"You think, then, she likes him?" said Mrs. Castleton.
"I know nothing more about it than you do," replied Tom. "I suppose she must, for she certainly could marry richer men than Harry if she wanted to. She has the merit, at least, of disinterestedness."
"Harry would be a great match for her," said Emma, indignantly—"and she knows it. She might get more money, perhaps, but think of the difference of position."
"Yes, I suppose that has something to do with it," replied Tom. "You women all think so much of such things."
"Strange!" repeated Mrs. Castleton, "I don't know how Harry can fancy such a girl."
"Don't you know all objects vary according to the light they are in," said Tom. "If Harry saw Miss Dawson among young ladies of a different style and stamp, the changes of the 'dissolving views' would not be greater. The present picture would fade away, and a new, and in all probability a very different one, would take its place."
"That's a good idea!" exclaimed Mrs. Castleton, suddenly, and clapping her hands joyfully. "I'll call and ask her to my party for the bride."
Emma looked at her for a moment aghast, as if she thought she had suddenly gone crazy.
"What do you mean, Laura?" she exclaimed.
"Why, to follow out Tom's idea," she said. "It's excellent! I'm going to give Mrs. Flemming a party. I'll make it very select, and not large; invite all the prettiest and most elegant girls, and then play amiable to Harry, by telling him I'll call upon his Miss Dawson and invite her."
Emma looked very dubious, and said,
"I don't like our countenancing the thing in this way."
"You need have nothing to do with it," returned her sister. "As it seems you and Harry have had words about it, you had better not; but I'll call—I'll have her. And it shall be such an elegant, select little affair that it will show her off to charming advantage," she continued, with much animation, delighted with her own cleverness in the scheme. "He can't help but be ashamed of her. Don't you think so, Tom?"
The young man laughed.
"Now, Tom," said she, a little disappointed, "don't you think so?"
"There's a good chance of it, certainly," he replied. "You can but try it."
"Then why do you laugh," she continued, still dissatisfied.
"Only to see what spiteful creatures you women are," he continued, smiling. "To see the pains you'll take to put down a girl you don't happen to fancy."
"Surely, you yourself, Tom," commenced Mrs. Castleton, seriously, and "I am sure, Tom," chimed in Emma, in the same breath, "you have always said—"and then they both poured forth such a torrent of reminiscences and good reasons for wishing to prevent the match, that he was glad to cry for mercy, and ended by saying seriously,
"I am sure I hope you may succeed."