“But where’s Miss Rivers? Doesn’t she honor us with her presence?” asked Durward, in some concern.
John Jr.’s first impulse, as he afterwards said, was “to knock him off from his horse,” but a second thought convinced him there might be some mistake; so he replied that “it was hardly to be supposed Miss Rivers would attend without an invitation—she wasn’t quite so verdant as that!”
“Without an invitation!” repeated Durward, stopping short in the road. “’Lena not invited! It isn’t so! I directed one to her myself, and gave it to Nero, together with the rest which were designed for your family. He must have lost it. I’ll ask him the moment I get home, and see that it is all made right. She must come, any way, for I wouldn’t give——”
Here he stopped, as if he had said too much, but John Jr. finished the sentence for him.
“Wouldn’t give a picayune for the whole affair without her—that’s what you mean, and why not say so? I speak right out about Nellie, and she isn’t one half as handsome as ’Lena.”
“It isn’t ’Lena’s beauty that I admire altogether,” returned Durward. “I like her for her frankness, and because I think her conduct is actuated by the best of principles; perhaps I am mistaken——”
“No, you are not,” again interrupted John Jr., “’Lena is just what she seems to be. There’s no deception in her. She isn’t one thing to-day and another to-morrow. Spunky as the old Nick, you know, but still she governs her temper admirably, and between you and me, I know I’m a better man than I should have been had she never come to live with us. How well I remember the first time I saw her,” he continued, repeating to Durward the particulars of their interview in Lexington, and describing her introduction to his sisters. “From the moment she refused to tell that lie for me, I liked her,” said he, “and when she dealt me that blow in my face, my admiration was complete.”
Durward thought he could dispense with the blow, but he laughed heartily at John’s description of his spirited cousin, thinking, too, how different was his opinion of her from that which his mother evidently entertained. Still, if Mrs. Livingstone was prejudiced, John Jr. might also be somewhat biased, so he would not yet make up his mind; but on one thing he was resolved—she should be invited, and for fear of contingencies, he would carry the card himself.
Accordingly, on his return home, Nero was closely questioned, and negro-like, called down all manner of evil upon himself “if he done drapped the note any whar. ’Strue as I live and breathe, Mas’r Bellmont,” said he, “I done carried Miss ’Leny’s invite with the rest, and guv ’em all to the young lady with the big nose!”
Had Durward understood Mrs. Livingstone a little better, he might have believed him; but now it was but natural for him to suppose that Nero had accidentally dropped it. So he wrote another, taking it himself, and asking for “Miss Rivers.” Carrie, who was in the parlor and saw him coming up to the house, instantly flew to the glass, smoothing her collar, puffing out her hair a little more, pinching her cheek, which was not quite so red as usual, and wishing that she was alone. But unfortunately, both Anna and ’Lena were present, and as there was no means of being rid of them, she retained her seat at the piano, carelessly turning over the leaves of her music book, when the door opened and Corinda, not Durward, appeared.