I promised secrecy, and the General retired in as happy a mood as I ever saw him. Lavinia also retired, but not a hint did she give to the young lady with whom she slept regarding the engagement. Indeed, our family plied her upon the subject the next day, but not a breath passed her lips that would give the slightest indication of what had transpired. She was quite sociable with the Commodore, and as the General concluded to go home the next morning, the Commodore’s equanimity and good feelings were fully restored. The General made a call of half an hour Sunday evening, and managed to have an interview with Lavinia. The next morning she and the Commodore returned to New York in good spirits, I remaining in Bridgeport.
The General called on me Monday, however, bringing a very nice letter which he had written to Lavinia’s mother. He had concluded to send this letter by his trusty friend, Mr. George A. Wells, instead of going himself, and he had just seen Mr. Wells, who had consented to go to Middleborough with the letter the following day, and to urge the General’s suit, if it should be necessary.
The General went to New York on Wednesday, and was there to await Mr. Wells’ arrival. On Wednesday morning the General and Lavinia walked into my office, and after closing the door, the little General said:
“Mr. Barnum, I want somebody to tell the Commodore that Lavinia and I are engaged, for I am afraid there will be a ‘row’ when he hears of it.”
“Do it yourself, General,” I replied.
“Oh,” said the General, almost shuddering, “I would not dare to do it, he might knock me down.”
“I will do it,” said Lavinia; and it was at once arranged that I should call the Commodore and Lavinia into my office, and either she or myself would tell him. The General, of course, “vamosed.”
When the Commodore joined us and the door was closed, I said:
“Commodore, do you know what this little witch has been doing?”
“No, I don’t,” he answered.