“In that case she has only to write another book,” said the persistent Mr. Dana; “her books will always find a ready market.”
“We shall see,” said the old lady bridling; “it is my opinion she’ll go out like the wick of a candle. People won’t read a second edition of such trash. Ruth Hall ‘Floy’? Humph! that accounts,—humph! Well, anyhow, if she has made money, she had her nose held to the grindstone pretty well first; that’s one comfort. She ‘Floy’? Humph! That accounts. Well, sometimes money is given for a curse; I’ve heern tell of such things.
“—Yes, yes; I’ve heern tell of such things,” muttered the old lady, patting her foot, as her two visitors left. “Dreadful grand, Ruth—‘Floy’ feels now, I suppose. A sight of money she’s made, has she? A great deal she knows how to invest it. Invest it! What’s the use of talking about that? It will be invested on her back, in silk gowns, laces, frumpery, and such things. I haven’t a silk gown in the world. The least she could do, would be to send me one, for the care of that child.
“—Yes, laces and feathers, feathers and laces. The children, too, all tricked but like little monkeys, with long ostrich legs, and short, bob-tailed skirts standing out like opery girls, and whole yards of ribbin streaming from their hair, I’ll warrant. The Catechize clean driven out of Katy’s head. Shouldn’t be at all astonished if they went to dancing school, or any other immoral place.
“—Wonder where they’ll live? In some grand hotel, of course; dinner at six o’clock, black servants, gold salt-cellars and finger-glasses; nothing short of that’ll suit now; humph. Shouldn’t be astonished any day to hear Ruth kept a carriage and servants in livery, or had been to Victory’s Court in lappets and diamonds. She’s just impudent enough to do it. She isn’t afraid of anybody nor anything. Dare say she will marry some Count or Duke; she has no more principle.
“—Humph! I suppose she is crowing well over me. V-e-r-y w-e-l-l; the wheel may turn round again, who knows? In fact, I am sure of it. How glad I should be! Well, I must say, I didn’t think she had so much perseverance. I expected she’d just sit down, after awhile, and fret herself to death, and be well out of the way.
“—‘Floy’! humph. I suppose I shan’t take up a newspaper now without getting a dose about her. I dare say that spiteful young Dana will call here again just to rile me up by praising her. What a fool I was to get taken in so about that book. But how should I know it was hers? I should as soon have thought of her turning out Mrs. Bonaparte, as an authoress. Authoress! Humph! Wonder how the heels of her stockings look? S’pose she wears silk ones now, and French shoes; she was always as proud as Lucifer of her foot.
“—Well, I must say, (as long as there’s nobody here to hear me,) that she beats all. Humph! She’ll collapse, though; there’s no doubt of that. I’ve heard of balloons that alighted in mud-puddles.”