When we reached the wharf, Mr. Vandermarck, after disposing of the baggage, gave his arm to me, and took me to an open wagon which was waiting for us. He put me in the seat beside him, and took the reins with a look of pleasure.
"These are Tom and Jerry, Miss Pauline," he said, "about the pleasantest members of the family; at least they contribute more to my pleasure than any other members of it. I squandered about half my income on them a year or two ago, and have not repented yet; though, indeed, repentance isn't in my way. I shall hope for the happiness of giving you many drives with them, if I am permitted."
"Nothing could make me happier, I am sure."
"Richard hasn't any horses, though he can afford it much better than I can. He does his driving, when he is here, with the carriage-horses that we keep for Sophie--a dull old pair of brutes. He disapproves very much of Tom and Jerry; but you see it would never do to have two such wise heads in one family."
"It would destroy the balance of power in the neighborhood."
"Decidedly; as it is, we are a first-class power, owing to Sophie's cleverness and Richard's prudence; my prodigality is just needed to keep us from overrunning the county and proclaiming an empire at the next town meeting. How do you like Sophie, Miss d'Estrée? I know you haven't seen much of her--but what you have? Isn't she clever, and isn't she a pretty woman to be nearly thirty-five?"
I was feeling very grateful for my invitation, and so I said a great deal of my admiration for his sister.
"Everybody likes her," he said, complacently. "I don't know a more popular person anywhere. She is the life of the neighborhood; people come to her for everything, if they want to get a new door-mat for the school-house, or if they want a new man nominated for the legislature. I think she's awfully bored, sometimes, but she keeps it to herself. But though the summer is her rest, she always does enough to tire out anybody else. Now, for instance, she is going to have three young ladies with her for the next two months (besides yourself, Miss d'Estrée), whom she will have to be amusing all the time, and some friends of mine who will turn the house inside out. But Sophie never grumbles."
"Tell me about them all," I said, consuming with a fever of curiosity.
"O, I forgot you did not know them. Shall I begin with the young ladies?--(Sam, there's a stone in Jerry's off fore-foot; get down and look about it--Steady!--there, I knew it)--Excuse me, Miss d'Estrée. Well,--the young ladies. There's one of our cousins, a grand, handsome, sombre, estimable girl, whom nobody ever flirts with, but whom somebody will marry. That's Henrietta Palmer. Then there is Charlotte Benson--not pretty, but stylish and so clever. She carries too many guns for most men; she is a capital girl in her way. Then there is Mary Leighton; she is small, blonde, lovely. I do not believe in her particularly, but we are great friends, and flirt a little, I am told. I quite wonder how you will like each other. I hope you will tell me your impressions. No doubt she will be rather your companion, for Henrietta and Charlotte Benson are desperately intimate, and have a room together. They are quite romantic and very superior. Pretty Miss Leighton isn't in their line exactly, and is rather left to her own reflections, I should think. But she makes up for it when the gentlemen appear; she isn't left with any time upon her hands, you may be sure. I don't know what it is about her; she never said a bright thing in her life, and a great, great many silly ones; but everybody wants to talk to her, and her silly words are precious to the man to whom she says them. Did you ever meet anybody like her?"