Taking Laura’s proffered hand, he led her to the sofa, where they sat down. After some commonplaces in regard to the news of the day, he remarked: “By the way, do you know of any good school in the city for a young girl, say of fourteen?”
“Yes. Mrs. Gentry’s school, which I’ve just left, is one of the most select in the city. Here’s her card.”—“But are her pupils all from the best families?”—“I believe so. Indeed, I know the families of all except one.”—“And who is she?”—“Her name is Ellen Murray, but I call her Darling. I think she must be preparing either for the opera or the ballet; for in music, singing, and dancing she’s far beyond the rest of us.”—“And behind you in the other branches, I suppose.”—“I’m afraid not. She won’t be kept back. She must have given twice the time to study that any of the rest of us gave.”—“Does she seem to be of gentle blood?”—“Yes; though Mrs. Gentry tells us she is low-born. For all that, she’s quite pretty, and knows more than Madame Groux herself about dress. And so Darling and I, in spite of Mrs. Gentry, were getting to be quite intimate, when we quarrelled on the slavery question, and separated.”—“What! the little miss is a politician, is she?”—“Oh! she’s a downright Abolitionist!—talks like a little fury against the wrongs of slavery. I couldn’t endure it, and so cast her off.”—“Bring her to me. I’ll convert her in five minutes.”—“O you vain man! But I wish you could hear her sing. Such a voice!”—“Couldn’t you give me an opportunity? You shouldn’t have quarrelled with her, Miss Tremaine! It rather amuses me that she should talk treason. Why not arrange a little musical party? I’ll come and play for you a whole evening, if you’ll have Darling to sing.”—“O, that would be so charming! But then Darling and I have separated. We don’t speak.”—“Nonsense! Miss Laura Tremaine can afford to offer the olive-branch to a poor little outcast.”—“To be sure I can, Mr. Vance! And I’ll have her here, if I have to bring her by stratagem.”—“Admirable! Just send for me as soon as you secure the bird. And keep her strictly caged till I can hear her sing.”—“I’ll do it, Mr. Vance. Even the dragon Gentry shall not prevent it.”—“Shall I try the new piano?”—“O, I’ve been so longing to hear you!”
And Vance, seating himself at the instrument, exerted himself as he had rarely done to fascinate an audience. Laura, who had taste, if not diligence, in music, was charmed and bewildered. “How delightful! How very delightful!” she exclaimed. Vance was growing dangerous.
At that moment the servant entered with two cards.
“Did you tell them I’m in?”—“Yes, Mahmzel.”
“Well, then,” said Laura, with an air of disappointment, “show them up.” And handing the cards to Vance, she asked, “Shall I introduce them?”
“Mr. Robert Onslow,—Charles Kenrick. Certainly.”
The young men entered, and were introduced.
Kenrick drew near, and said: “Mr. Vance, allow me the honor of taking you by the hand. I’ve heard of the poor fellow you rescued from the halter of Judge Lynch. In the name of humanity, I thank you. That poor ragged declaimer merely spoke my own sentiments.”
“Indeed! What did he say?”