Mrs. Rumsey looked around in surprise, and Mrs. Armitage with a flushed cheek, rose from her seat, saying haughtily —
“The introduction is altogether valueless, as yourself and son are both entirely unknown to me—and as to this young gentleman,” she added, turning with a displeased air to the ci devant Mr. Lee, “it is scarcely necessary to introduce a son to his mother, though I marvel much at finding him in such society.” And placing her hand upon her son’s arm she moved away with a stately air.
Poor Mrs. Rumsey stood perfectly still in a state of blank bewilderment, while Mrs. Grey exclaimed —
“How could you, Mrs. Ramsey, present Harry Armitage as a stranger to his mother, can it be possible that you had no acquaintance with her after all?”
Mrs. Rumsey looked around, she saw the suppressed smile that hovered on the lips of those about her, and murmuring something about explaining it all on another occasion, hastily left the room. Her daughters had already vanished, and as for Samuel Rumsey, Esq., he was no where.
Mrs. Armitage was some time in becoming reconciled to the stratagem of Mrs. Grey and Harry, but finding herself no longer haunted by the Rumseys, forgave the two conspirators at last.
The Rumseys found it convenient to leave town immediately. Their furniture was sold—the house rented to another tenant, and “The people who knew every body and whom nobody knew,” ceased to be talked of or remembered.
But many hundred miles away, in another state, the Rumseys still flourish, and occasionally boast of their charming friend Harry Armitage, and the elegant Mrs. Grey.
Who that mingles in the harlequin crowd of this jostling, restless world, has not known one person at least who might belong to the Rumseys?