And now in the carriage, though she could hardly sit up straight, she was so happy that RoBards, delighting in anything that could delight her, leaned near to press his lips against her cheek.
She was the mother of a long family, yet she was still a girl, and a girl by virtue—or by vice—of avoiding the penalties of growing up. Her extravagances, her flippancies, her very determination to evade the burdens of grief and responsibility, her refusal to be in earnest about anything but beauty, were, after all, the only means of keeping beauty.
At such moments, he felt that she and her sort alone were wise; and that those who bent to the yoke of life were not the wise and noble creatures they thought themselves, but only stolid, sexless, stupid oxen. She still had wings because she used them always, was always fugitive.
At this bright dinner there were many eminent women among the eminent men in the drawing room. There were two mayors, Mr. Havemeyer, newly elected, and Mr. Harper, of the Native American Party, who had failed of re-election but had won the city’s gratitude by discarding the old night watchman system of “Leatherheads” for a police force of eight hundred men in uniform—and none too many in view of the prevalence of all manner of crime.
Commodore Stevens of the new yacht club was there; also Mr. A. T. Stewart, who was building a great store in Broadway, and sealing its doom as a street of homes.
A picturesque guest was Mrs. Anne Cora Mowatt, who had written a successful play called “Fashion,” though she had never been behind the scenes, and who had followed it up by becoming an actress and playing “The Lady of Lyons” after one rehearsal. And she had triumphed! This was a new way for a woman to repair her broken fortunes.
Across from her and somewhat terrified by the situation was the Rev. Dr. Chirnside, who abhorred the playhouse and never failed to view with alarm the fact that New York already had eight theatres and that they were rebuilt as fast as they burned down—which was pretty fast. Against these there were only a hundred and sixty churches, including nine African, six Catholic churches and four synagogues.
RoBards’ heart lurched as always when he saw Harry Chalender in the drawing room. He heard him saying:
“They tell me that the number of theatres in town has not increased in years, though the churches have tripled in number. Yet crime has mightily increased. How do you explain that?”
“You are flippant, sir!” said Dr. Chirnside.