The next day wore away and the guests began to arrive. Having nothing better to do, I stationed myself at the hall window to watch the carriages as they came up to our door, and their contents came out.
The first that arrived were the Cheyleighs, numbering Mr. Edward Cheyleigh and wife, a stylish old couple, who prided themselves on their family and position in society, and the two Misses Cheyleigh—ladies who had been in the market for some time, and as yet were unspoken. They were great sticklers for the usages of society, and dependent, in a great measure, on their social prestige and en regle manners for the attention they received. They were well aware of the fact, that while Mr. Cheyleigh had given balls and parties innumerable for their benefit, he had not yet given a wedding party, and to accomplish for him the privilege of giving one was and had been their constant aim, albeit its fervor was a little abated by its continued futility.
As they entered the hall, and found the hat and coat stands empty, Miss Ella, the younger, turned to her father, and with much petulance exclaimed:
“Now, pa, I hope you are satisfied; you would hurry us off, and now we are the very first. I declare it is really too bad.”
“Yes, it is,” chimes in Miss Gertrude, the elder, “and looks as if we were so dreadfully anxious to come.”
“Well, my daughters,” philosophises Mr. Cheyleigh, “somebody has to be the first, and we are fully ten minutes behind the time specified.”
“Ten minutes!” exclaimed both young ladies, between the pronunciation of the “ten” and the “minutes,” changing their faces from a frown to a smile, as mother, hearing their voices, appeared in the hall and welcomed them, taking the ladies off to the cloak room; while William, our servant, who had been leaning against the stair while their conversation was proceeding, recovered himself sufficiently to usher Mr. Cheyleigh into the parlor. Many others arrive and are passed in, until at length two young gentlemen approach, toss away their cigars, and stroll, as it were, up the steps, taking a long time to reach the door, and conversing in a low tone, which I could overhear.
“I wonder who is to be here to-day,” said the first, frowning as if in pain, as he buttoned his glove with an effort; “dinners with old folks are devilish bores.”
“I understand the two Misses Cheyleigh will be here, and that will be some relief,” replied the other, pulling down his wristband, so as to show the white.