"Very new people," whispered another in reply.
"Vulgar, evidently—just set up to be somebody—don't understand it," rejoined a third, shrugging his shoulders.
Mr. Gusher, who had assisted the lady in beating up her recruits, had assured them that the Chapmans were very distinguished people.
Mrs. Chapman was not more successful in setting up a carriage of her own. She had done a great deal of pushing without affecting a lodgment in the society she had set her heart on. With a carriage of her own she felt that she would be just as good as any of those high old Bowling Green people. She had read of a lady in her carriage driving right into society and forcing a surrender.
Unfortunately the fools were not so plenty as formerly, the demand for Kidd Discovery stock had greatly diminished, and the expense of keeping up appearances in the city had far exceeded Chapman's calculations. Indeed, he had already begun to talk of the necessity of economy. Topman was already drawing heavily on the income of the firm to keep up appearances, and the future must not be overlooked. The lady had, therefore, to content herself with a one-horse turn-out, an establishment not very popular in Bowling Green even at that day. Although the lady had to accept the necessity, there was no getting along without a coachman, and Mr. Napoleon Bowles was engaged to wear a livery and wait on the lady in that capacity. Now Bowles stood about five feet four inches in his boots, was very fat and very short-legged, and very black, for he was a person of African descent and established color. Bowles weighed at least two hundred and fifty solid, so that when he drove his mistress out for an airing of an afternoon the whole establishment made so shabby and yet so comical an appearance as to afford the whole neighborhood a subject for amusement. Nor was there a more self-important person in all Bowling Green than Bowles—except, perhaps, it might be his mistress. But it was only when he got himself into those tight-fitting drab trousers, and that bright blue coat with double rows of brass buttons, and mounted that small, tall hat with the huge buckle in front, that he fancied himself seen to advantage.
Bowles not only became a feature in Bowling Green society, but indeed considered himself necessary to the dignity of the family he was serving, and in duty bound to fight any coachman who would make the slightest insinuations against it. This got him into numerous difficulties, for there was not a coachman in the neighborhood that did not set him down as a fair subject for unpleasant remarks. One called him a dumpling-stomached darkey; while another said he must have been brought up in the family and fed on puddings.
"Can't be much of a family," a third would say, "to have such a short-legged shadow as you for coachman, and only one horse. And such a livery as that! Why don't your mistress dress you like a man?"
Mr. Bowles had several times found himself measuring the pavement and his hat in the gutter, as a reward for his attempts to resent such indignities, which he considered were offered to the family rather than himself. There was so close a resemblance between the circumference of the lady and her coachman as to seriously damage the pretensions of the family, and bring down upon it no end of ridicule.
There was another serious impediment to the lady's pretentions, and that was no less a person than Mrs. Topman. No sooner had the Chapmans set up in Bowling Green than that lady took them into her keeping, promising them no end of introductions to nice people. Now, Mrs. Topman was one of those social afflictions which are found everywhere, whose touch is like contagion, and who take strangers into their keeping only to do them more harm than good. I have called them social afflictions for want of a better term. Mrs. Topman was the highest example of the species. She had been beating about on the outskirts of society without gaining an entrance into it until she was like a faded bouquet that had lost its freshness and perfume. In short, she was a tall, rakish looking craft, with ingeniously painted head-gear, carrying an immense amount of sail, and flying colors not recognized by good society in Bowling Green—at least not on the West side.