Mr. Effingham and his cousin went out into the hall to receive the new guest, with whom the latter had become acquainted while superintending the repairs of the Wigwam.
Mr. Wenham was the son of a successful lawyer in the county, and, being an only child, he had also succeeded to an easy independence. His age, however, brought him rather into the generation to which Eve belonged, than into that of the father; and, if Mr. Howel was a reflection, or rather a continuation, of all the provincial notions that America entertained of England forty years ago, Mr. Wenham might almost be said to belong to the opposite school, and to be as ultra-American, as his neighbour was ultra-British.--If there is lajeune France, there is also la jeune Amerique, although the votaries of the latter march with less hardy steps than the votaries of the first. Mr. Wenham fancied himself a paragon of national independence, and was constantly talking of American excellencies, though the ancient impressions still lingered in his moral system, as men look askance for the ghosts which frightened their childhood on crossing a church-yard in the dark. John Effingham knew the penchant of the young man, and when he said that he came happily to preserve the equilibrium, he alluded to this striking difference in the characters of their two friends.
The introductions and salutations over, we shall resume the conversation that succeeded in the drawing-room.
"You must be much gratified, Miss Effingham," observed Mr. Wenham, who, like a true American, being a young man himself, supposed it de rigueur to address a young lady in preference to any other present,--"with the great progress made by our country since you went abroad."
Eve simply answered that her extreme youth, when she left home, had prevented her from retaining any precise notions on such subjects.
"I dare say it is all very true," she added, "but one, like myself, who remembers only older countries, is, I think, a little more apt to be struck with the deficiencies, than with what may, in truth, be improvements, though they still fall short of excellence."
Mr. Wenham looked vexed, or indignant would be a better word, but he succeeded in preserving his coolness--a thing that is not always easy to one of provincial habits and provincial education, when he finds his own beau idéal lightly estimated by others.
"Miss Effingham must discover a thousand imperfections." said Mr. Howel, "coming, as she does, directly from England. That music, now,"--alluding to the sounds of a flute that were heard through the open windows, coming from the adjacent village--"must be rude enough to her ear, after the music of London."
"The street music of London is certainly among the best, if not the very best, in Europe," returned Eve, with a glance of the eye at the baronet, that caused him to smile, "and I think this fairly belongs to the class, being so freely given to the neighbourhood."
"Have you read the articles signed Minerva, in the Hebdomad, Miss Effingham," inquired Mr. Wenham, who was determined to try the young lady on a point of sentiment, having succeeded so ill in his first attempt to interest her--"they are generally thought to be a great acquisition to American literature."