“Yes, my love,” said her mother tenderly, “it is beautiful, indeed. How very attentive and kind in Mr. Gilmer to remember that passing wish of yours.”
“Oh yes! and what perfect taste too he has,” continued the little lady, evidently much more intent upon her present than her lover; and so she flew to her aunt to show the rich present she had just received. Miss Lawrence, a younger sister of her mother, who resided with them, had been absent when this engagement took place; and having examined and admired the jewel to the satisfaction of her niece, said,
“I am quite anxious to see this Mr. Gilmer of yours, Charlotte.”
“Are you? Well, he will be here this evening, I suppose; and I dare say you will like him. He likes all those sensible, dull books that you and mamma are so fond of. He’ll just suit you.”
“I hope,” replied her aunt, smiling, “he suits you too.”
“Yes,” she answered, with a little hesitation, “only he is too grave and sensible: but then he’s old, you know,” she added with a serious look.
“Old!” replied Miss Lawrence, “what do you call old?”
“Oh, I don’t know; thirty, or forty, or fifty, I don’t know exactly; but he must be quite as old as mamma, maybe older: but,” added she, with more animation, “I shall have the prettiest phaeton, with the dearest little pair of black ponies you ever saw, just to drive when I shop, you know, and an elegant chariot to pay visits; and I mean to give so many parties and a fancy ball regularly every winter;” and she continued dwelling on her anticipated gaieties to the utter exclusion, in all her plans, of husband or lover, to the surprise and amusement, not unmixed with anxiety, of her aunt, who soon began to perceive that her niece’s young brain was dizzy with the prospect of splendors and gaieties that her mother’s limited income denied her, while her heart was as untouched by any deeper emotion as one might naturally have expected from her joyous, unthinking, careless age. She was dazzled by Mr. Gilmer’s fortune and flattered by his attentions, for he was distingué in society; but love she deemed out of the question with a man as old as her mother; and she was right. It was out of the question with a girl young enough to be his daughter; for however age may admire youth, there is nothing captivating to youth in age. His fine mind, cultivated tastes and elegant manners were lost upon one whose youth and ignorance precluded her appreciating qualities she did not comprehend; and she only looked forward to her marriage as the first act in a brilliant drama in which she was to play the principal part.
“Are you quite satisfied, sister, with this engagement of Charlotte’s?” asked Miss Lawrence, with some anxiety.
“Perfectly,” replied Mrs. Vivian, “more than satisfied. Mr. Gilmer’s fortune and station are all I could ask. He is a man of sense and a gentleman. What more could I desire?”