"He's horrid ugly!" she said to herself. "I don't think I ever saw a homelier man. The boy is much better looking. I wish he were the young man. There'd be some satisfaction in exercising my fascinations upon him. However, beauty is only skin deep, and if Mr. Cromwell has got money, I don't know that I would object to marrying him. What I want is a nice house and an easy life."
It will be seen that Clara Manton was not one of the romantic girls of which heroines are usually made. In truth, she was incapable of any love, except self-love, and though she could counterfeit sentiment, she had none of the quality. She was very practical and calculating, and did not mean to surrender her freedom, unless she could obtain the substantial advantages which she desired.
In spite, therefore, of James Cromwell's personal deficiencies, she determined to exercise her arts upon him.
On sitting down to the table she was introduced by Mrs. Shelby.
"How do you like Madison, Mr. Cromwell?" she said, with great suavity.
"Pretty well, thank you," said Cromwell, rather awkwardly, for he always felt uncomfortable in the society of ladies, particularly if they were young, or in any way pretty or attractive. It might have been a vague idea of his own personal disadvantages that produced this feeling, but it was partly because he had had very limited opportunities of becoming acquainted or associating with the opposite sex.
"I am glad you like us well enough to establish yourself here," said the young lady, graciously. "I hear you have gone into business in the village, so that we may hope to have you as a permanent accession to our village society."
"Thank you, Miss Manton," said James Cromwell, trying to think of something more to say, but not succeeding.
"Do you go back to the store in the evening?" asked the young lady, as he rose from the table.
"Yes, I think so. I am expected to keep open in the evening."