"'Do you wish to get out, madam!' inquired Mr. Henry; 'allow me to help you;' and bounding out, he assisted her down the high step, as carefully and respectfully as though she were some high dame of rank and fashion. I am afraid that, though I did not actually join in the merriment of my thoughtless friends, I deserved the sting of conscience that served to fasten this little incident so firmly in my remembrance. Perhaps I was, for this reason, the more impressed by another proof of the ever-ready politeness of this gentleman, who made such an impression upon my girlish fancy. We dined at Ballston, on our way to Saratoga, and after dinner, I asked Mr. Henry, with whom, in spite of my first awe of his superiority of years and polish, I began to feel quite at ease, to run down with me to one of the Springs, for a glass of water, before we should resume our journey. So he good-naturedly left the gentlemen (now I know that he may have wished to smoke) together at the table, and accompanied me. But now for my dénoûment. Just as we were in a narrow place, between a high, steep bank and the track, the cars came rushing towards us. In an instant, quicker than thought, Mr. Henry had transferred me from the arm next the cars—because more removed from the edge of the bank—to the other arm, thus placing his person between me and any passing danger, and with such a quiet, re-assuring manner! You smile, Colonel—but, really—well, you see what an impression it made upon my youthful sensibilities!"
"Oh, girls, such a charming adventure as I had this evening!" exclaimed Margaret, as a bevy of fair young creatures clustered together before the fire in a drawing-room where I was seated after dinner, with my newspaper. My attention was arrested by the peculiar animation with which these words were pronounced, and I glanced at the group, over the top of my spectacles. They reminded me of so many brilliant-hued butterflies, in their bright-colored winter dresses, and with their light, wavy motions as they settled themselves, one on a pile of cushions, others on a low ottoman, and two pretty fairies on the hearth-rug, each uttering some exclamation of gratification at the prospect of amusement.
"Now, don't expect anything extraordinary or dreadful, you silly creatures; I have no 'hair-breadth 'scapes by land or sea' to entertain you with. Can't one have a 'charming adventure,' and yet have nothing to tell?"
"But do tell us all there is to tell, dear Miss ——. Do, please, this very moment," entreated one of the fairies, linking her arms around her companion, and mingling her golden ringlets with the darker locks of the head upon which her own lovingly rested. And a little concert of similar pleadings followed. This prelude over, the tantalizing adventuress began:
"Before I went over to New York this morning, I wrote a little note to Mary Bostwick, telling her all about our arrangements for the Christmas-tree, and charging her not to fail to come to us on Christmas eve, and all about it, for fear that, as I had so much to accomplish, I might not be able to go up to Twenty-third street, and return home in time to meet you all here. My plan was to keep it until I was decided, and then, if obliged to send it, to put it in one of the City Express letter-boxes. Well, by the time I was through with all my important errands, it was time for me to turn my steps homeward. So, happening last at Tiffany's, to get the—I mean, I asked at Tiffany's for one of the places where a box is kept in that neighborhood, and was told that there was one in a druggist's, quite near—just above. Hurrying along, I must have passed the place, and stopped somewhere not far below 'Taylor's,' to see exactly where I was. Time was flying, and it was really almost growing dark; so I ventured to inquire of a gentleman who was passing, though an entire stranger, for the druggist's.
"'I think it is below, near the Astor House,' said he, with such an appearance of interest as to embolden me to mention what I was in search of.
"'If that is all,' he replied, 'I dare say there is one nearer. Let me see,' glancing around, 'I think there is one on the opposite corner—I will see.'
"'I have no right to give you that trouble, sir,' said I.