“I have seen his sisters,” replied the other, “they are dashing girls, but seemingly infected with the same desire to shine.”
“It is very evident that he did not know me, at least,” said Harry; “if you meet him don’t enlighten him as to my identity, we may have some sport yet.”
Soon after the young men separated, and Harry returned home.
Mrs. Armitage had just concluded a most pathetic account of her morning visit, when Harry entered the room where his mother and sister were seated, and began in his off-hand style an amusing relation of his morning rencontre. When he mentioned the name of Rumsey, his mother lifted her hands with an exclamation of terror, and Helen exclaimed laughing —
“ ‘Monsieur Tonson come again,’ I declare. Well, Harry, I am wicked enough to rejoice in your share of our annoyance, as perhaps through your restless wits we may find a way to rid ourselves of it. This very morning, when I returned to purchase some more ribbon such as I had to trim my fall bonnet, the milliner said she had sold the last to the Miss Rumseys, who were decided in their choice on being told I had selected the same.”
“What is all this about the Rumseys?” asked Harry. And forthwith his mother and sister proceeded to enlighten him on the subject so far as they knew themselves.
Harry shared fully in the annoyance, and determined to devise some method of punishing this pushing and impertinent family, and to find out who and what they were.
“Who were the Rumseys?” This was a question much easier asked than answered, as all allusion to past years was carefully avoided by the people in question, and moreover, they came from an eastern city. They occupied a stylish house in a fashionable quarter, and lived in a showy manner; spending most of their time in promenading and receiving the visits of those who ventured to call upon them.
The mother was an ignorant, ill-bred, over-dressed woman, who, to judge by her conversation, was intimate with almost every family of note, and who by dint of persevering assiduity had succeeded in gaining the entrée to a few fashionable houses. It was whispered about, to be sure, that a waiter had seen her quietly transfer the card of an exclusive from the card-receiver of the lady she was visiting to her own pocket, and said card was afterward observed occupying a conspicuous place upon her centre-table. But this might have been mere servant’s gossip, and it was scarcely credible that all the cards of distinction that filled her gilded card-racks were obtained in the same way. The supposition that she was known in one circle was the magical spring that opened her way into another, and in this way she endeavored to pick the locks, as it were, of the gates of fashionable society.
The daughters were what men of coarse taste would call “dashing girls that make a fine show.” They were rather tall, with bright dark eyes, brilliant complexions, irregular features, wide mouths, and large feet. Their bonnets were always bent to the last extreme of fashion, and the bright colors they wore were always in striking contrast. They affected the fashionable, and certainly most ungraceful lounge, with decided success, and in their daily promenades received numerous bows from gentlemen of every variety. The son has been already introduced, it need only be added that he excelled his family in forward impertinence, and we have the picture complete.