I had come to the conclusion by this time that Mr. La Vigne was decidedly as eccentric as his advertisement, and that his vagaries and personalities were not worth minding or estimating in the consideration in question.
So, when Madame La Vigne replied to his abrupt query, "Oh, very, very much, indeed!" and held out her kind hand to me, I took it without misgiving, and the first glance we interchanged contained freemasonry. From that time Colonel Prosper La Vigne fell gracefully back into his proper position, and I talked away fluently enough with his lady, as he pompously called his wife. In short, at the end of an hour it was settled that I was to join them the same evening, at their hotel, and proceed with them thence to New York, there to take the packet for Savannah (their first destination) on the same night. The plantation on which they lived, they informed me, was nearly a day's journey, by carriage-conveyance, beyond that city, but eligibly situated for health (though not for productiveness), among a low range of hills known as the "Les Dernier" Mountains, the name being anglicized into "Less derneer," with the accent on the last syllable, so as to metamorphose it completely to the ear, instead of translating it.
"It is a very lonely place though, Miss Harz, in the winter-time—mamma ought to tell you that," whispered Marion, the eldest daughter, as she nestled so closely to me, and looked so kindly in my face, that the intruding thought of her unwillingness for my society was instantly banished. "In the summer it is pleasant enough, so many people come to their cottages in the hills; but, during eight months of the year, we have but one near neighbor, and not a very social one either."
"From circumstances alone unsocial, Marion," said Madame La Vigne, flushing slightly (her usual complexion was of a fair sallowness, common to Southern ladies). "Cousin Celia is certainly devoted at heart to every one of us, but she cannot, you know, leave home often."
"Oh, I know, mamma! I only meant to keep Miss Harz from being disappointed."
"Miss Harz has internal resources, I have no doubt," rejoined Madame La Vigne; "and, even if she had not, I fear her duties would preclude much longing for excitement.—It is a very onerous task you are undertaking, my dear young lady, certainly," turning kindly to me. "Five ignorant little Southern girls, well disposed but imperfectly trained, will fill your hands to positive overflowing, I fear. You will find me exacting, too, sometimes. I am sure I shall enjoy your society whenever you choose to bestow it on me, and Colonel La Vigne as well."
To which declaration on the part of his wife, that gentleman responded by laying his hand on his breast, complacently, and bowing profoundly from his chair, ending the ceremony by a flourish of his delicate cambric handkerchief, and the exhibition at the same time of a slender, sickly, and peculiarly-shaped hand, decorated with an onyx seal-ring. He looked the gentleman, however, unmistakably plain and peculiar as his appearance was, and pompous and pretentious as was his manner.
If words could do the work of the photographer, I should like to show him to my readers, as he appeared to me on that first interview; though later his whole aspect underwent a change in my sight, reflected from the cavernous depths within, so that, what seemed somewhat ludicrous in the beginning, came to be solemnly serious and even sophistically tragical and awful on later acquaintance.
We have all more or less witnessed this phenomenon of transformation in some familiar aspect, either through love or hatred, respect or contempt, fear or admiration, until we find ourselves marveling at past impressions, received, in ignorance of the truth, in the commencement of our observations.
I remember that Mr. La Vigne struck me on that occasion as a superficial man in every way, but kindly, courteous, and vivacious, though certainly eccentric and somewhat absurd. One would have supposed him even a flippant, whimsical person, seen casually; but, on later examination, the droop of his eyelids and under lip, and the depressed corners of his mouth, gave to the close observer a surer indication of his character.