Alice pouted. "I don't want him asked for papa to criticise," she exclaimed, rudely. "I care nothing at all about him—" lie the third, "only that he makes an hour pass agreeably. Very likely I shall never meet him again." Lie the fourth.
"Ah, Alice, didn't you engage to dance with him at the ball to-morrow night?"
Days glided into weeks until the spring opened, and Alice by her judicious and well-timed flattery had so well managed her aunt, that nearly every morning found Mr. James Duncan Coleman sitting familiarly in Mr. Saunders's parlor, while that gentleman had as yet to be informed that there was such a person in existence.
The young lady had an indefinite idea that her father would disapprove, certainly in the light of a suitor for her hand, of a man who had no regular employment, except to spend his mornings in detailing gossip and small talk in a lady's parlor, while his evenings alternated between the theatre, opera, and ball-room; and indeed, sometimes a doubt intruded itself into her mind whether such a man could render her happy; but then he was so fond of her, and his moustaches were so splendid. At the very nick of time, as Alice termed it, Mr. Saunders announced his intention of improving Ellen's vacation by taking her and her cousin on a trip to the West.
"If I were pious, like Aunt Collins," exclaimed the young girl, "I should say that papa's journey really seems providential. I have put off inviting Mr. Coleman to dine, on one excuse and another, until I am almost ashamed to look him in the face."
Aunt Clarissa looked grave. She was growing uneasy with the responsibilities resting upon her; and would gladly have shared them with her nephew. Once or twice of late she had noticed that Mr. Coleman started when she had proposed an interview between him and Alice's father; but this her niece readily explained by saying that they were having such nice times together, she presumed he didn't like to have them disturbed. She assured her aunt, again and again, that Mr. Coleman's society was eagerly sought in the best families: that many of her young friends were dying of envy on account of his attentions to her, and that every one she had asked spoke in the highest terms of his moral character. Lie the fifth. She had repeatedly heard dark hints respecting his integrity; but these slanders of course she did not believe.
But for once the spinster was firm, and would not consent that Mr. Coleman should be invited to dine unless there were other guests. On the third day, therefore, after Mr. Saunders's departure, four gentlemen found themselves seated around his hospitable board.
On this occasion, Alice had interfered with the appointments of the table sufficiently to order the servant to display to the best advantage all the rich plate that the house afforded.
"It is so vexatious," Alice exclaimed, with well-acted sincerity, after the guests had partaken of the first course, "that papa did not return to-day as he expected! The house seems so dreary when he is away." Lie the sixth. Oh, Alice!
"Yes," murmured Aunt Clarissa, "he ought to have been at home by the noon train; but on his visits to his daughter, he never knows when to leave. I wish he were here with all my heart."