“It's farther than we intend to turn.”
“Oh! so you do intend to turn a bit aside! Well, there's that Mr. Mordaunt, whose daughter you pulled out of the lion's paws;—he has a house near King's-Bridge, called Lilacsbush.”
“And how did you ascertain that, Jason?”
“By asking. Do you think I would let such a thing happen, and not inquire a little about the young lady? Nothing is ever lost by putting a few questions, and inquiring round; and I did not forget the rule in her case.”
“And you ascertained that the young lady's father has a place called Lilacsbush, in this neighbourhood?”
“I did; and a queer York fashion it is to give a house a name, just as you would a Christian being; that must be a Roman Catholic custom, and some way connected with idolatry.”
“Out of all doubt. It is far better to say, for instance, that we are going to breakfast at Mr. Mordaunt's-es-es, than to say we intend to stop at Lilacsbush.”
“Oh! you be, be you? Well, I thought it would turn out that some such place must have started you off so early. It will be a desperate late breakfast, Corny!”
“It will be at ten o'oclock, Jason, and that is rather later than common; but our appetites will be so much the better.”
To this Jason assented, and then commenced a series of manoeuvres to be included in the party. This we did not dare to do, however, and all Jason's hints were disregarded, until, growing desperate by our evasions, he plumply proposed to go along, and we as plumply told him we would take no such liberty with a man of Herman Mordaunt's years, position and character. I do not know that we should have hesitated so much had we considered Jason a gentleman, but this was impossible. The custom of the colony admitted of great freedom in this respect, being very different from what it is at home, by all accounts, in these particulars; but there was always an understanding that the persons one brought with him should be of a certain stamp and class in life; recommendations to which Jason Newcome certainly had no claim.