University of Virginia Library

8. CHAPTER VIII.

“Harris will be hors de combat,” Bulstrode soon observed,
“unless I can manage to get him from the table.—You
know he is to play Marcia this evening; and, though a little
wine will give him fire and spirit for the part, too much will
impair its feminine beauties. Addison never intended that
`the virtuous Marcia,' in towering above her sex, was to be
picked out of a kennel, or from under a table. Harris is a
true Irish peer, when claret is concerned.”

All the ladies held up their hands, and protested against
Mr. Harris' being permitted to act a travestie on their sex.
As yet, no one had known how the characters were to be
cast, beyond the fact that Bulstrode himself was to play
Cato, for great care had been taken to keep the bills of the
night from being seen, in order that the audience might
have the satisfaction of finding out, who was who, for themselves.

At the close of each piece a bill was to be sent
round, among the favoured few, telling the truth. As Anneke
declared that her father never locked in his guests,
and had faithfully promised to bring up everybody for
coffee, in the course of half an hour, it was determined to
let things take their own way.

Sure enough, at the end of the time mentioned, Herman
Mordaunt appeared, with all the men, from the table. Harris
was not tipsy, as I found was very apt to be the case with
him after dinner, but neither was he sober. According to
Bulstrode's notion, he may have had just fire enough to play
the `virtuous Marcia.' In a few minutes he hurrried the
ensign off, declaring that, like Hamlet's ghost, their hour
had come. At seven, the whole party left the house in a
body to walk to the theatre. Herman Mordaunt did not
keep a proper town equipage, and, if he had, it would not
have contained a fourth of our company. In this, however,
we were not singular, as nine in ten of the audience that
night, I mean nine in ten of the gentle sex, went to the
theatre on foot.

Instead of going directly down Crown Street, into Maiden
Lane, which would have been the nearest way to the theatre,
we went out into Broadway, and round by Wall Street, the
walking being better, and the gutters farther from the ladies;
the centre of the street being at no great distance from the
houses, in the narrower passages of the town. We found
a great many well-dressed people moving in the same direction
with ourselves. Herman Mordaunt remarked that he
had never before seen so many hoops, cardinals, cocked
hats and swords in the streets, at once, as he saw that evening.
All the carriages in town rolled past us as we went
down Wall Street, and by the time we reached William
Street, the pavements resembled a procession, more than
anything else. As every one was in full dress, the effect
was pleasing, and the evening being fine, most of the gentlemen
carried their hats in their hands, in order not to
disturb their curls, thus giving to the whole the air of a sort
of vast drawing-room. I never saw a more lovely creature
than Anneke Mordaunt appeared, as she led our party, on
this occasion. The powder had got a little out of her fine
auburn hair, and on the part of the head that was not concealed

by a cap, that shaded half her beautiful face, it seemed
as if the rich covering bestowed by nature was about to
break out of all restraint, and shade her bust with its exuberance.
Her negligée was a rich satin, flounced in front,
while the lace that dropped from her elbows seemed as if
woven by fairies, expressly for a fairy to wear. She had
paste buckles in her shoes, and I thought I had never beheld
such a foot, as was occasionally seen peeping from beneath
her dress, while she walked daintily, yet with the grace of
a queen, at my side. I do not thus describe Anneke with a
view of inducing the reader to fancy her stately and repulsive;
on the contrary, winning ease and natural grace were
just as striking in her manner, as were beauty, and sentiment,
and feeling in her countenance. More than once, as
we walked side by side, did I become painfully conscious
how unworthy I was to fill the place I occupied. I believe
this humility is one of the surest signs of sincere love.

At length we reached the theatre, and were permitted to
enter. All the front seats were occupied by blacks, principally
in New York liveries; that is to say, with cuffs,
collars and pocket-flaps of a cloth different from the coat,
though a few were in lace. These last belonged to the topping
families, several of which gave colours and ornaments
almost as rich as those that I understand are constantly
given at home. I well remember that two entire boxes
were retained by servants, in shoulder-knots, and much
richer dresses than common, one of whom belonged to the
Lt. Governor, and the other to my Lord Loudon, who was
then Commander-In-Chief. As the company entered, these
domestics disappeared, as is usual, and we all took our seats
on the benches thus retained for us. Bulstrode's care was
apparent in the manner in which he had provided for
Anneke, and her party, which, I will take it on myself to
say, was one of the most striking, for youth and good looks,
that entered the house that evening.

Great was the curiosity, and deep the feeling, that prevailed,
among the younger portion of the audience in particular,
as party after party was seated, that important
evening. The house was ornamented as a theatre, and I
thought it vast in extent; though Herman Mordaunt assured
me it was no great things, in that point of view, as com

pared with most of the playhouses at home. But the ornaments,
and the lights, and the curtain, the pit, the boxes,
the gallery, were all so many objects of intense interest.
Few of us said anything; but our eyes wandered over all
with a species of delight, that I am certain can be felt in a
theatre only once. Anneke's sweet face was a picture of
youthful expectation; an expectation, however, in which
intelligence and discretion had their full share. The orchestra
was said to have an undue portion of wind instruments
in it; though I perceived ladies all over the house, including
those in our own box, returning the bows of many of
the musicians, who, I was told, were amateurs from the
army and the drawing-rooms of the town.

At length the Commander-In-Chief and the Lt. Governor
entered together, occupying the same box, though two had
been provided, their attendants having recourse to the
second. The commotion produced by these arrivals had
hardly subsided, when the curtain arose, and a new world
was presented to our view! Of the playing, I shall not
venture to say much; though to me it seemed perfection.
Bulstrode gained great applause that night; and I understand
that divers gentlemen, who had either been educated
at home, or who had passed much time there, declared that
his Cato would have done credit to either of the royal
theatres. His dress appeared to me to be everything it
should be; though I cannot describe it. I remember that
Syphax wore the uniform of a colonel of dragoons, and Juba,
that of a general officer; and that there was a good deal of
criticism expended, and some offence taken, because the
gentlemen who played these parts came out in wool, and
with their faces blacked. It was said, in answer to these
feelings, that the characters were Africans; and that any
one might see, by casting his eyes at the gallery, that Africans
are usually black, and that they have woolly hair; a
sort of proof that, I imagine, only aggravated the offence.[1]
Apart from this little mistake, everything went off well, even

to Harris's Marcia. It is true, that some evil-inclined persons
whispered that the “virtuous Marcia” was a little how-came-you-so;
but Bulstrode afterwards assured me that his
condition helped him along amazingly, and that it added a
liquid lustre to his eyes, that might otherwise have been
wanting. The high-heeled shoes appeared to trouble him;
but some persons fancied it gave him a pretty tottering in
his walk, that added very much to the deception. On the
whole, the piece went off surprisingly, as I could see by
Lord Loudon and the Lt. Governor, both of whom seemed
infinitely diverted. Herman Mordaunt smiled once or twice,
when he ought to have looked grave; but this I ascribed to
a want of practice, of late years, in scenic representations.
He certainly was a man of judgment, and must have known
the proper moments to exhibit particular emotions.

During the interval between the play and the farce, the
actors came among us, to receive the homage they merited,
and loud were the plaudits that were bestowed on them.
Anneke's bright eyes sparkled with pleasure as she admitted,
without reserve, to Bulstrode the pleasure she had received,
and confessed she had formed no idea, hitherto, of the
beauty and power of a theatrical representation, aided as
was this, by the auxiliaries of lights, dress and scenery.
It is true, the women had been a little absurd, and the “virtuous
Marcia” particularly so; but the fine sentiments of
Addison, which, though as Herman Mordaunt observed, they
had all the accuracy and all the stiffness of a pedantic age,
were sufficiently beautiful and just, to cover the delinquencies
of the Hon. Mr. Harris. She hoped the after-piece
would be of the same general character, that they might all
enjoy it as much as they had the play itself.

The other young ladies were equally decided in their
praise, though it struck me that Anneke felt the most, on
the occasion. That the Major had obtained a great advantage
by his efforts, I could not but see; and the folly of my
having any pretensions with one who was courted by such a
rival, began to impress itself on my imagination with a force
I found painful. But the bell soon summoned away the
gallant actors, in order to dress for the farce.

The long interval that occurred between the two pieces,
gave ample opportunity for visiting one's acquaintances, and

to compare opinions. I went to my aunt's box, and found
her well satisfied, though less animated than the younger
ladies, in the expression of her pleasure. My uncle was
altogether himself; good-natured, but not disposed to award
any indiscreet amount of praise.

“Pretty well for boys, Corny,” he said, “though the
youngster who acted Marcia had better been at school. I
do not know his name, but he completely took all the virtue
out of Marcia. He must have studied her character
from some of the ladies who follow the camp.”

“My dear uncle, how differently you think from all in
our box! That gentleman is the Hon. Mr. Harris, who is
only eighteen, and has a pair of colours in the —th, and is
a son of Lord Ballybannon, or Bally-something else, and is
said to have the softest voice in the army!”

“Ay, and the softest head, too, I 'll answer for it. I tell
you, Corny, the Hon. Mr. Ballybilly, who is only eighteen,
and has a pair of colours in the —th, and the softest voice
in the army, had better been at school, instead of undermining
the virtue of the `virtuous Marcia,' as he has so
obviously done. Bulstrode did well enough; capitally well,
for an amateur, and must be a first-rate fellow. By the
way, Jane”—that was my aunt's name—“they tell me, he
is likely to marry that exceedingly pretty daughter of Herman
Mordaunt, and make her Lady Bulstrode, one of these
days.”

“Why not, Mr. Legge?—Anne Mordaunt is as sweet a
girl as there is in the colony, and is very respectably connected.
They even say the Mordaunts are of a high family
at home. Mary Wallace told me that Herman Mordaunt
and Sir Henry Bulstrode are themselves related; and you
know, my dear, how intimate the Mordaunts and the Wallaces
are?”

“Not I;—I know nothing of their intimacies, though I
dare say it may be all true. Mordaunt's father was an
English gentleman of some family, I have always heard,
though he was as poor as a church-mouse, when he married
one of our Dutch heiresses; and as for Herman Mordaunt
himself, he proved he had not lost the instinct by
marrying another, though she did not happen to be Dutch.

Here comes Anneke to inherit it all, and I 'll answer for it
that care is had that she shall marry an heir.”

“Well, Mr. Bulstrode is an heir, and the eldest son of a
baronet. I am always pleased when one of our girls makes
a good connection at home, for it does the colony credit.
It is an excellent thing, Corny, to have our interest well
sustained at home—especially before the Privy Council, they
tell me.”

“Well, I am not,” answered my uncle. “I think it more
to the credit of the colony for its young women to take up
with its young men, and its young men with its young
women. I wish Anne Mordaunt had been substituted for
the Hon. Ballyshannon to-night. She would have made a
thousand times better `virtuous Marcia.”

“You surely would not have had a young lady of respectability
appear in public, in this way, Mr. Legge.”

My uncle said something to this, for he seldom let “Jane”
get the better of it for want of an answer; but as I left
the box, I did not hear his reply. It seemed then to be
settled, in the minds of most persons, that Bulstrode was to
marry Anneke! I cannot describe the new shock this
opinion gave me; but it seemed to make me more fully
sensible of the depth of the impression that had been made
on myself, in the intercourse of a single week. The effect
was such that I did not return to the party I had left, but
sought a seat in a distant part of the theatre, though one in
which I could distinctly see those I had abandoned.

The Beaux Stratagem soon commenced, and Bulstrode
was again seen in the character of Scrub. Those who
were most familiar with the stage, pronounced his playing
to be excellent—far better in the footman than in the Roman
Senator. The play itself struck me as being as broad and
coarse as could be tolerated; but as it had a reputation at
home, where it had a great name, our matrons did not dare
to object to it. I was glad to see the smiles soon disappear
from Anneke's face, however, and to discover that she found
no pleasure in scenes so unsuited to her sex and years.
The short, quick glances that were exchanged between Anneke
and Mary Wallace, did not escape me, and the manner
in which they both rose, as soon as the curtain dropped,
told quite plainly the haste they were in to quit the theatre.

I reached their box-door in time to assist them through the
crowd.

Not a word was said by any of us, until we reached the
street, where two or three of Miss Mordaunt's female friends
became loud in the expression of their satisfaction. Neither
Anneke nor Mary Wallace said anything, and so well did
I understand the nature of their feelings, that I made no
allusion whatever to the farce. As for the others, they did
but chime in with what appeared to be the common opinion,
and were to be pitied rather than condemned. It was perhaps
the more excusable in them to imagine such a play
right, masmuch as they must have known it was much extolled
at home, a fact that gave any custom a certain privilege
in the colonies. A mother country has much of the
same responsibility as a natural mother, herself, since its
opinions and example are apt to be quoted in the one case
by the dependant, in justification of its own opinions and
conduct, as it is by the natural offspring in the other.

I fancy, notwithstanding, this sort of responsibility gives
the ministers or people of England very little trouble, since
I never could discover any sensitiveness to their duties on
this score. We all went in at Herman Mordaunt's, after
walking to the house as we had walked from it, and were
made to take a light supper, including some delicious chocolate.
Just as we sat down to table, Bulstrode joined us, to
receive the praises he had earned, and to enjoy his triumph.
He got a seat directly opposite to mine, on Anneke's left
hand, and soon began to converse.

“In the first place,” he cried, “you must all admit that
Tom Harris did wonders to-night as Miss Marcia Cato. I
had my own trouble with the rogue, for there is no precedent
for a tipsy Marcia; but we managed to keep him
straight, and that was the nicest part of my management,
let me assure you.”

“Yes,” observed Herman Mordaunt, drily; “I should
think keeping Tom Harris straight, after dinner, an exploit
of no little difficulty, but a task that would demand a very
judicious management, indeed.”

“You were pleased to express your satisfaction with the
performance of Cato. Miss Mordaunt,” said Bulstrode, in a

very deferential and solicitous manner; “but I question if
the entertainment gave you as much pleasure?”

“It certainly did not. Had the representation ended with
the first piece, I am afraid I should too much regret that we
are without a regular stage; but the farce will take off much
of the keenness of such regrets.”

“I fear I understand you, cousin Anne, and greatly
regret that we did not make another choice,” returned Bulstrode,
with a humility that was not usual in his manner,
even when addressing Anneke Mordaunt; “but I can assure
you the play has great vogue at home; and the character of
Scrub, in particular, has usually been a prodigious favourite.
I see by your look, however, that enough has been said;
but after having done so much to amuse this good company,
to-night, I shall feel authorised to call on every lady present,
at least for a song, as soon as the proper moment arrives.
Perhaps I have a right to add, a sentiment, and a toast.”

And songs, and toasts, and sentiments, we had, as usual,
the moment we had done eating. It was, and indeed is,
rather more usual to indulge in this innocent gaiety after
supper, than after dinner, with us; and that night everybody
entered into the feeling of the moment with spirit. Herman
Mordaunt gave “Miss Markham,” as he had done at dinner,
and this with an air so determined, as to prove no one else
would ever be got out of him.

“There is a compact between Miss Markham and myself,
to toast each other for the remainder of our lives,” cried the
master of the house, laughing; “and we are each too honest
ever to violate it.”

“But Miss Mordaunt is under no such engagement,” put
in a certain Mr. Benson, who had manifested much interest
in the beautiful young mistress of the house throughout the
day; “and I trust we shall not be put off by any such excuse
from her.”

“It is not in rule to ask two of the same race for toasts
in succession, answered Herman Mordaunt. “There is Mr.
Bulstrode dying to give us another English belle.”

“With all my heart,” said Bulstrode, gaily. “This time
it shall be Lady Betty Boddington.”

“Married or single, Bulstrode?” inquired Billings, as I
thought with some little point.

“No matter which, so long as she be a beauty and a
toast. I believe it is now my privilege to call on a lady,
and I beg a gentleman from Miss Wallace.”

There had been an expression of pained surprise, at the
trifling between Billings and Bulstrode, in Anneke's sweet
countenance; for, in the simplicity of our provincial habits,
we of the colonies did not think it exactly in rule for the
single to toast the married, or vice versâ; but the instant
her friend was thus called on, it changed for a look of gentle
concern. Mary Wallace manifested no concern, however,
but gave “Mr. Francis Fordham.”

“Ay, Frank Fordham, with all my heart,” cried Herman
Mordaunt. “I hope he will return to his native country as
straight-forward, honest, and good as he left it.”

“Mr. Fordham is then abroad?” inquired Bulstrode. “I
thought the name new to me.”

“If being at home can be called being abroad. He is
reading law at the Temple.”

This was the answer of Mary Wallace, who looked as if
she felt a friendly interest in the young Templar, but no
more. She now called on Dirck for his lady. Throughout
the whole of that day, Dirck's voice had hardly been heard;
a reserve that comported well enough with his youth and
established diffidence. This appeal, however, seemed suddenly
to arouse all that there was of manhood in him; and
that was not a little, I can tell the reader, when there was
occasion to use it. Dirck's nature was honesty itself; and
he felt that the appeal was too direct, and the occasion too
serious, to admit of duplicity. He loved but one, esteemed
but one, felt for one only; and it was not in his nature to
cover his preference by any attempt at deception. After
colouring to the ears, appearing distressed, he made an effort,
and pronounced the name of—“Anneke Mordaunt.”

A common laugh rewarded this blunder; common with
all but the fair creature who had extorted this involuntary
tribute, and myself, who knew Dirck's character too well
not to understand how very much he must be in earnest
thus to lay bare the most cherished secret of his heart.
The mirth continued some time, Herman Mordaunt appearing
to be particularly pleased, and applauding his kinsman's
directness with several `bravos' very distinctly uttered. As

for Anneke, I saw she looked touched, while she looked
concerned, and as if she would be glad to have the thing
undone.

“After all, Dirck, much as I admire your spirit and
plain dealing, boy,” cried Herman Mordaunt, “Miss Wallace
can never let such a toast pass. She will insist on
having another.”

“I!—I protest I am well pleased with it, and ask for no
other,” exclaimed the lady in question. “No toast can be
more agreeable to me than Anneke Mordaunt, and I particularly
like the quarter from which this comes.”

“If friends can be trusted in a matter of this nature,”
put in Bulstrode, with a little pique, “Mr. Follock has every
reason to be contented. Had I known, however, that the
customs of New York allowed a lady who is present to be
toasted, that gentleman would not have had the merit of
being the first to make this discovery.”

“Nor is it,” said Herman Mordaunt; “and Dirck must
hunt up another to supply my daughter's place.”

But no other was forthcoming from the stores of Dirck
Follock's mind. Had he a dozen names in reserve, not one
of them would he have produced under circumstances that
might seem like denying his allegiance to the girl already
given; but he could not name any other female. So, after
some trifling, the company attributing Dirck's hesitation to
his youth and ignorance of the world, abandoned the attempt,
desiring him to call on Anneke herself for a toast in
turn.

“Cousin Dirck Van Valkenburgh,” said Anneke, with
the greater self-possession and ease of her sex, though
actually my friend's junior by more than two years; laying
some emphasis, at the same time, on the word cousin.

“There!” exclaimed Dirck, looking exultingly at Bulstrode;
“you see, gentlemen and ladies, that it is permitted
to toast a person present, if you happen to respect and
esteem that person!”

“By which, sir, we are to understand how much Miss
Mordaunt respects and esteems Mr. Dirck Van Valkenburgh,”
answered Bulstrode gravely. “I am afraid there is only
too much justice in an opinion that might, at the first blush,
seem to savour of self-love.”

“An imputation I am far from denying,” returned
Anneke, with a steadiness that showed wonderful self-command,
did she really return any of Dirck's attachment.
“My kinsman gives me as his toast, and I give him as mine.
Is there anything unnatural in that?”

Here there was an outbreak of raillery at Anneke's expense,
which the young lady bore with a calmness and
composure that at first astonished me. But when I came to
reflect that she had been virtually at the head of her father's
house for several years, and that she had always associated
with persons older than herself, it appeared more natural;
for it is certain we can either advance or retard the character
by throwing a person into intimate association with those
who, by their own conversation, manners, or acquirements,
are most adapted for doing either. In a few minutes the
interruption was forgotten by those who had no interest in
the subject, and the singing commenced. I had obtained so
much credit by my attempt at dinner, that I had the extreme
gratification of being asked to sing another song by
Anneke herself. Of course I complied, and I thought the
company seemed pleased. As for my young hostess, I
knew she looked more gratified with my song than with the
afterpiece, and that I felt to be something. Dirck had an
occasion to renew a little of the ground lost by the toast,
for he sang a capital comic song in Low Dutch. It is true,
not half the party understood him, but the other half laughed
until the tears rolled down their cheeks, and there was
something so droll in my friend's manner, that everybody
was delighted. The clocks struck twelve before we
broke up.

I staid in town but a day or two longer, meeting my new
acquaintances every day, and sometimes twice a-day, however,
on Trinity Church Walk. I paid visits of leave-taking
with a heavy heart, and most of all to Anneke and her
father.

“I understood from Follock, “said Herman Mordaunt,
when I explained the object of my call, “that you are to
leave town to-morrow. Miss Mordaunt and her friend, Miss
Wallace, go to Lilacsbush this afternoon; for it is high time
to look after the garden and the flowers, many of which are
now in full bloom. I shall join them in the evening; and I

propose that you, young men, take a late breakfast with us,
on your way to Westchester. A cup of coffee before you
start, and getting into your saddle at six, will bring all
right. I promise you that you shall be on the road again
by one, which will give you plenty of time to reach Satanstoe
before dark.”

I looked at Anneke, and fancied that the expression of
her countenance was favourable. Dirck left everything to
me, and I accepted the invitation. This arrangement
shortened my visit in Crown Street, and I left the house
with a lighter heart than that with which I had entered it.
It is always so agreeable to get an unpleasant duty deferred!

Next day Dirck and I were in the saddle at six precisely,
and we rode through the streets just as the blacks were
washing down their stoops and side-walks; though there
were but very few of the last, in my youth. This is a
commodious improvement, and one that it is not easy to see
how the ladies could dispense with, and which is now getting
to be pretty common; all the new streets, I see, being provided
with the convenience.

It was a fine May morning, and the air was full of the
sweet fragrance of the lilac, in particular, as we rode into
the country. Just as we got into the Bowery Lane, a horseman
was seen walking out of one of the by-streets, and
coming our way. He no sooner caught sight of two travellers
going in his own direction, than he spurred forward to
join us; being alone, and probably wishing company. As
it would have been churlish to refuse to travel in company
with one thus situated, we pulled up, walking our horses
until the stranger joined us; when, to our surprise, it turned
out to be Jason Newcome. The pedagogue was as much
astonished when he recognised us, as we were in recognising
him; and I believe he was a little disappointed; for Jason
was so fond of making acquaintances, that it was always a
pleasure to him to be thus employed. It appeared that he
had been down on the island to visit a relative, who had
married and settled in that quarter; and this was the reason
we had not met since the morning of the affair of the lion.
Of course we trotted on together, neither glad nor sorry at
having this particular companion.

I never could explain the process by means of which

Jason wound his way into everybody's secrets. It is true,
he had no scruples about asking questions; putting those
which most persons would think forbidden by the usages of
society, with as little hesitation as those which are universally
permitted. The people of New England have a reputation
this way; and I remember to have heard Mr. Worden
account for the practice in the following way: Everything
and everybody was brought under rigid church government
among the Puritans; and, when a whole community gets
the notion that it is to sit in judgment on every act of
one of its members, it is quite natural that it should extend
that right to an inquiry into all his affairs. One thing is
certain; our neighbours of Connecticut do assume a control
over the acts and opinions of individuals that is not dreamed
of in New York; and I think it very likely that the practice
of pushing inquiry into private things, has grown up under
this custom.

As one might suppose, Jason, whenever baffled in an attempt
to obtain knowledge by means of inquiries, more or less
direct, sought to advance his ends through conjectures; taking
those that were the most plausible, if any such could be
found, but putting up with those that had not even this questionable
recommendation, if nothing better offered. He
was, consequently, for ever falling into the grossest errors,
for, necessarily making his conclusions on premises drawn
from his own ignorance and inexperience, he was liable to
fall into serious mistakes at the very outset. Nor was this
the worst; the tendency of human nature not being very
directly to charity, the harshest constructions were sometimes
blended with the most absurd blunders, in his mind, and I
have known him to be often guilty of assertions, that had
no better foundation than these conjectures, which might
have subjected him to severe legal penalties.

On the present occasion, Jason was not long in ascertaining
where we were bound. This was done in a manner
so characteristic and ingenious, that I will attempt to
relate it.

“Why, you're out early, this morning, gentlemen!” exclaimed
Jason, affecting surprise. “What in natur' has
started you off before breakfast?”

“So as to be certain not to lose our suppers at Satanstoe,
this evening,” I answered.

“Suppers? why, you will almost reach home (Jason
would call this word hum) by dinner-time; that is, your
York dinner-time. Perhaps you mean to call by the way?”

“Perhaps we do, Mr. Newcome; there are many pleasant
families between this and Satanstoe.”

“I know there be. There 's the great Mr. Van Cortlandt's
at Yonker's; perhaps you mean to stop there?”

“No, sir; we have no such intention.”

“Then there's the rich Count Philips's, on the river;
that would be no great matter out of the way?”

“It 's farther than we intend to turn.”

“Oh! so you do intend to turn a bit aside! Well, there's
that Mr. Mordaunt, whose daughter you pulled out of the
lion's paws;—he has a house near King's-Bridge, called
Lilacsbush.”

“And how did you ascertain that, Jason?”

“By asking. Do you think I would let such a thing
happen, and not inquire a little about the young lady? Nothing
is ever lost by putting a few questions, and inquiring
round; and I did not forget the rule in her case.”

“And you ascertained that the young lady's father has a
place called Lilacsbush, in this neighbourhood?”

“I did; and a queer York fashion it is to give a house a
name, just as you would a Christian being; that must be a
Roman Catholic custom, and some way connected with idolatry.”

“Out of all doubt. It is far better to say, for instance,
that we are going to breakfast at Mr. Mordaunt's-es-es, than
to say we intend to stop at Lilacsbush.”

“Oh! you be, be you? Well, I thought it would turn out
that some such place must have started you off so early. It
will be a desperate late breakfast, Corny!”

“It will be at ten o'oclock, Jason, and that is rather later
than common; but our appetites will be so much the better.”

To this Jason assented, and then commenced a series of
manœuvres to be included in the party. This we did not
dare to do, however, and all Jason's hints were disregarded,
until, growing desperate by our evasions, he plumply proposed
to go along, and we as plumply told him we would

take no such liberty with a man of Herman Mordaunt's
years, position and character. I do not know that we
should have hesitated so much had we considered Jason a
gentleman, but this was impossible. The custom of the
colony admitted of great freedom in this respect, being very
different from what it is at home, by all accounts, in these
particulars; but there was always an understanding that the
persons one brought with him should be of a certain stamp
and class in life; recommendations to which Jason Newcome
certainly had no claim.

The case was getting to be a little embarrassing, when
the appearance of Herman Mordaunt himself, fortunately
removed the difficulty. Jason was not a man to be thrown
off very easily; but here was one who had the power, and
who showed the disposition to set things right. Herman
Mordaunt had ridden down the road a mile or two to meet
us, intending to lead us by a private and shorter way to his
residence, than that which was already known to us. He
no sooner saw that Jason was of our company, than he
asked that as a favour, which our companion would very
gladly have accepted as a boon.