“Yes, I noticed him. A pompous-looking old gentleman, isn’t he?”
“Oh, he is dignified in his manner, but not at all pompous,” was the reply.
“Well, I call him pompous, if looks mean anything,” said the mother, with the air of one to whom looks were quite sufficient. “I think I will go to my room,” she added, and turned a glance on me, as much as to say, “You needn’t come, sir.” I had no intention of going, and wandered out on the piazza, feeling as though Bessie had almost been taken away from me again.
When she rejoined me, leaving her mother above stairs, I asked, “What does she think of her room?”
“Well, it doesn’t quite suit her. She thinks the furniture scanty and shabby, water scarce, towels rather coarse, and she can’t endure the sight of a kerosene lamp; but she will make herself quite comfortable, I dare say.”
“And everybody else uncomfortable,” I felt like adding, but restrained myself.
She came down to tea, and being offered a seat on the other side of me from Bessie, firmly declined it, and took the one on the other side of her daughter from me. As she unfolded her napkin she took in the whole table with a searching glance, and had formed a quick estimate of everybody sitting around it. Miss Clara Van Duzen and Mr. Desmond, her uncle, sat opposite, and an introduction across the table took place. The young lady was vivacious and talkative, and tried to make herself agreeable, but my mother-in-law did not like what she afterwards called her “chatter,” and set her down as a frivolous young person. “Miss Van,” as everybody called her, with her own approval,—for, as she said, she detested the Duzen which her Dutch ancestors had bequeathed her with their other property,—was of New York Knickerbocker origin, now living with her uncle in Boston, and was by no means frivolous, though uncommonly lively. She had fine, brown eyes, beautiful hair, and a complexion that defied sun and wind. It had the rosy glow of health, and indicated a good digestion and high spirits. Mr. Desmond seemed to be mostly white vest, immaculate shirt-front, and gold chain, the last-named article being very heavy and meandering through the button-holes of his vest and up around his invisible neck. He said little, and was evidently not much given to light conversation. He was very gracious in his attentions to the ladies, however, and seemed to pay special deference to Mrs. Pinkerton. I afterwards learned that he was a widower of long standing, without chick or child, and the guardian of his niece, whom he regarded with great admiration.
Down at the other end of the table was Marston, evidently giving vent to his impatience about something, and his wife, with fierce eyes, telling him, in manner if not in words, not to make a fool of himself. The rest of the company was made up either of transient visitors or of persons with whom this story has nothing in particular to do.
As we emerged on the piazza after tea, Fred, who had impolitely gone out in advance, called out, “Charlie, old boy, come over here and have a smoke!”
I must confess that these long sittings on the piazzas of summer hotels had lured me back to my old habits, which I had forsworn in my efforts to conciliate Bessie’s mother. Bessie had encouraged me in it, for to tell the truth she rather liked the fragrance of a good cigar, and dearly loved to see me enjoying it. It was my nature to defy the whole world and be master of my own habits, but I had felt a mean inclination, after mother-in-law joined the party, to slink away and smoke on the sly. There was nothing for it now, however, but to put on a bold face, or play the hypocrite and pretend I didn’t smoke. The latter I would not do, and if I had attempted it, it wouldn’t go down with Fred, and I should have been in a worse predicament than ever. I went boldly across the piazza and took the proffered cigar. Glancing out at the corner of my eye as I was lighting it, I saw my mother-in-law regarding me through her glasses with increased disfavor. She did not, however, seem to be surprised, and doubtless believed me capable of any perfidy.