 | CHAPTER X. Elinor Wyllys, or, The young folk of Longbridge |  |
10. CHAPTER X.
“Fashion, leader of a chattering train.”
Cowper.
Miss Patsey's mother was more unwell than usual; and
after breakfast the following morning, Elinor prepared a little
basket of particularly fine peaches, which she proposed carrying
to Mrs. Hubbard, herself. Harry offered to accompany
her, and Jane was persuaded to join them; although in
general, she disliked every kind of motion except dancing.
The travellers had already seen Miss Patsey and her
youngest sister, and they were now so fortunate as to find
Charlie at home. He had come from New York, the evening
before, and, of course, was much pleased to see his
young friends; indeed, he showed so much emotion at the
meeting, as to change colour when he first saw the three
cousins enter the little gate.
“Why, Charlie, you have grown in inches as well as in
dignity, since we parted,” said Hazlehurst, shaking him
warmly by the hand.
“I shall never arrive at any great elevation either way,”
replied the youth, after shaking hands also with Jane.
“I don't know that; you have grown half a foot since I
saw you, and you have done wonders I hear, as a painter.
Mr. Wyllys, and Elinor, are both great admirers of your
pictures.”
“Wonders are comparative, you know; I believe I have
accomplished more, for instance, than my mother anticipated,
for she thought I was going to devote myself to signs and
window-blinds.”
“That is your account of the matter. But don't suppose
I have not learned that Mr. Charles Hubbard is looked upon
as one of our most promising young artists, and that several
of his pictures are thought the best of their kind that have
been painted this side the Atlantic.”
“You are very much improved in flattery by a visit to
Paris,” said Charlie, smiling.
“Only sober truth, as you must well know, Mr. Charles
Hubbard. I hope you have something here for us to look
at; I am really very impatient to see some of your pictures.
I wish you could have enjoyed half the fine works of art
that I have seen in the last two years.”
Hubbard replied that he had strong hopes of going abroad
himself before long, thanks to the liberality of his uncle,
and the promise of several orders from different gentlemen.
Harry congratulated him warmly, though he regretted that
Charlie should think of leaving home just as he himself
returned.
The young ladies paid their visit to Mrs. Hubbard in her
bed-room, while Harry and Charlie talked over a hundred
different things together; and after engaging Charles to dine
at Wyllys-Roof, they walked home again.
“Miss Patsey's parlour really looks neater and smaller
than ever,” observed Harry. “And I don't think I have
seen such an honest, good-natured, pleasant face as her's,
since I left Longbridge. She seems satisfied now, with the
idea of Charlie's being an artist.”
“She is resigned to it, rather,” said Elinor, “now that the
matter is entirely settled.”
“Charlie looks pale,” observed Harry; “he has grown
though, and he is no longer so very slight as he used to be.”
“He seems to be well,” replied Elinor; “but at times his
movements—quite anxious about your return.”
“Charlie is a right good fellow,” said Harry; “I was in
hopes to see a great deal of him, this winter.” At this
moment Jane dropped a glove; of course Harry picked it
up, and he continued silent after doing so.
“There, you see, is Mr. Taylor's new house,” observed
Elinor, as an opening in a grove of young trees allowed a
full view of a house of some size, and very great pretensions.
Jane looked at the home of her friend Adeline with interest—Harry
exclaimed, “What architecture!”
“Don't abuse it,” said Elinor, “for I assure you `Mr.
Taylor's splendid mansion' — `Mr. Taylor's magnificent
seat' is very much admired.”
Just as the party reached the piazza of Wyllys-Roof, Mr.
Taylor's barouche drove up to the door, and in an instant
Miss Adeline Taylor had thrown herself, and her fashionable
morning-dress, into Jane's arms.
“I was so glad to find you were staying here!” she exclaimed.
“Pa and I only arrived from Saratoga last night;
I did not expect you for a month to come.”
“We had a very short passage for the season,” said Jane,
returning the embrace quite cordially.
“We seem to have taken all our friends rather by surprise,
Miss Taylor,” said Harry.
“Well, if I had been in your place, I should have staid in
Paris till the last minute; — though, I dare say, you were
in a hurry to get back to Longbridge, Mr. Hazlehurst; no
doubt you wanted to see me very much. But I wonder that
Jane did not contrive to stay there.”
Harry looked a little embarrassed, and Jane, too, coloured
a little; though there seemed to be no very good reason that
either should do so.
“Did you find Saratoga pleasant, this summer, Miss
Taylor?” asked Elinor, drawing a chair near the bench
where the two friends were sitting, hand in hand.
“Oh, delightful!—Every house full, from the cellar to the
garret. How often I wished for you, Jane! if it was only
earlier in the season I would make pa take us there again,
just for the pleasure of showing off your new French
fashions—you would be the greatest belle of the season.”
“We need not inquire who was the belle,” said Elinor;
“such important news reaches even sober, home-staying
people like us.”
“Oh, we had half a dozen belles — all lively, pretty
girls. There was a young gentleman, from Savannah, at
Congress Hall, who wrote some verses about us, and called
us the `Chime of Bells;' it was a sort of imitation of `Those
Evening Bells,' and was published in the Saratoga papers.
But if Jane had been there, I don't think we should have
stood much chance.
“You think the poet would have rung a bob-major, for
Jane?”
“Certainly; with her trunks full of things from Paris,
she would have carried all before her.”
“I don't think Jane has brought a very large share of
finery with her,” said Elinor.
“No, indeed,” said Harry; “only five trunks and three
boxes, which I had the honour of getting through the Custom-House.”
“But part of it was for her friends,” said Elinor.
“You would have needed a large supply, I can tell you,
Jane,” said Miss Adeline, “if you had wanted to out-dash
us; for we determined this season, some half-dozen of us,
to out-do the young ladies who were there last year.”
“Did you succeed?” said Hazlehurst.
“To be sure we did. We made a firm resolve not only to
change our dress six times every day, but never to wear the
same dress twice. We drove several families away by that
manœuvre; but you have no idea what fun it was to us, who
entered into the spirit of the thing. For two days, though,
we were in great trepidation. There were a couple of
into our agreement; and the spiteful things actually changed
their dress seven times, the two first days.”
“Seven changes!” said Elinor; “how did they manage
that?”
“Why, they came down to breakfast in a white dress;
after breakfast they would drive in another, of course; then
they would show themselves in the drawing-room, after
driving, in a pink muslin, perhaps; at dinner, they wore
another; then, after dinner, they would change again; in
the evening they wore party-dresses, of course; and after
they went up stairs, they would visit each other in what
they called dress night-wrappers. Now, wasn't it mean in
them?”
“Very,” said Harry, laughing.
“To be sure it was. Changing six times was no more
than was necessary; all we `evening bells' did, was never
to wear the same dress twice. Would you believe it, after
putting such a bold face on the matter, the third day they
disappeared suddenly! We had a good crow, I can tell
you. There was a poor little innocent there, at the same
time, from Boston, who tried to beat us on another tack, as
Lieut. Johnson said; they called her the blue-bell. Well,
she never changed her dress, morning, noon, or night—and
just to spite us. But, dear me, we only laughed—we didn't
care a fig for her; though she was very pretty, she couldn't
get a man to speak to her, excepting one old fossil professor,
who wore spectacles, and walked up and down with her on
the piazza all the time.”
“She was no worthy rival for the Chime of Bells!” said
Harry.
“Certainly not. But I can tell you, that after we had
been there a week, two of the Chime were in great danger,
and one of them no less a person than your humble servant;
the other was Anne Hunter — Jane, you remember Anne
Hunter, who was at Mrs. G—'s with us? Well, Anne
I hope you can keep a secret.”
“A lady's secret?—Can you doubt me, Miss Taylor?”
“Well, mind now, you never mention it; but, Anne and
I got down to our last dozen dresses, and we were pledged
to stay a week longer. This was Monday, and on Thursday
there was to be a pic-nic, given expressly to the Chime of
Bells. At first, I thought I was the only one in such a
deplorable state; but, happily, I discovered that Anne, whose
room was next to mine, was no better off. And now, how
do you suppose we managed?”
“Pray, what did you do?” said Elinor, laughing.
“To tell the truth, I sat down and cried; for I am high-spirited,
and I could not bear the thoughts of such a mortification.
But Anne is an excellent manager, you know,
Jane—”
“Yes, I remember her.”
“Anne had a plan that carried all off triumphantly. She
proposed to me, to persuade the other three `evening bells,'
that to do honour to the pic-nic, we should be dressed alike,
in a sort of uniform. Well, of course, the others agreed;
but then, how to find the five dresses alike! Of course, we
couldn't wear anything made in Saratoga. The poet had
entreated us, in a sonnet, to be all dressed in white; so we
fixed upon white batiste — but, how to get them, was the
question.”
“I am all curiosity—” said Elinor.
“Oh! it was beautifully done.—Anne proposed we should
each write an advertisement for a trusty escort to New York,
and post it up on the curtains of the ladies' drawing-room.
What fun we had, while we were writing the advertisements!
We took an opportunity, when we and our beaux had the
drawing-room to ourselves, to vote the gentlemen out of it.
After a while, they went; but, what do you suppose the
wretches did, Mr. Hazlehurst?”
“Nothing ungallant, I trust.”
“Yes; to spite us, they crowded to the windows on the
piazza, till we dropped the blinds. Well, for a time, we
thought we were safe; but suddenly Anne Hunter shouted
out, and there comfortably seated in a tree close to the end
window, where the blind was broken, we saw one of the
young gentlemen with a note-book in his hand! We vowed
we wouldn't be defeated, so we pinned up our pocket-handkerchiefs
together, and, fortunately, they covered the peephole;
and so we shut him out, at last.”
“Your perseverance, under such obstacles, was truly surprising,
Miss Taylor;” said Hazlehurst.
“Was it not? We soon wrote our advertisements. Mine
was very short: `Wanted, an agreeable youth, as escort
between this and New York, apply this evening, at five
o'clock.' Some were very long and ridiculous; one was in
verse. Well, after we had written them, we opened the doors
and windows, and the young gentlemen flocked in again. Then
we went in procession, and pinned them up on the curtains.
Such a time as we had—talking and giggling—we were in
such a gale, that, at last, some of the married ladies came
out to see what was the matter. But, the best fun of all,
was choosing our escorts; a great many offered, and then
we examined them.”
“I hope they had suitable qualifications for the office.”
“Oh, yes.—I took Mr. Hunter, Anne's brother. Well,
sure enough, we all set out together, the next morning; staid
one day in the city; and, Thursday morning, we re-appeared
with the dresses. Of course, Anne and I had taken the
opportunity to get a fresh supply, besides the white batiste.
We had a most delightful pic-nic. I forgot to say, that Anne's
escort, the Marquis Foletti, was missing; she had to do
without him—she gave him up for lost, or absconded, and
we allowed her to choose another beau—when suddenly,
just as we were mourning over the Marquis, he appeared
on the ground, and threw himself on his knees, and made
us laugh more than ever. Anne had chosen him, because
not speak English very well, and had got on board the
wrong boat. What times we had! Jane, I wish you had
been there!”
“Your faithful esquires were rewarded, no doubt, by the
gallantry of the deed itself, Miss Taylor,” said Harry.
“Of course; but we nevertheless gave them, besides, full
permission to say and do just what they pleased, all that day
—and you can't think how much nonsense we talked. Each
gentleman took the advertisement of the lady he had escorted,
and pinned it over his heart. There were several foreigners
there, and you can't think how they enjoyed it; they had
never had such a frolic with young ladies before, and they
thought it delightful; though, to be sure, they got at last to
be rather too free; and then we had to put a stop to it.”
Elinor looked at Jane, to see if she seemed to sympathize
in Adeline's story; but her cousin's beautiful face was still
bright with the glow of pleasure from meeting her friend;
no other thought or feeling was to be traced there.
“I don't believe they have any such fun in Paris, Mr.
Hazlehurst.”
“Not exactly. — They have a pleasantry of their own,
however, which is quite agreeable.”
“I don't think I should like it. They say, a young lady
dares not speak to gentlemen, nor walk with them, nor have
the least bit of a flirtation. How stupid it must be!”
“But the French girls do talk to gentlemen, I assure you,”
replied Jane, “only they are not intimate with everybody.
The young men are very attentive, too; they treat young
girls with much more respect, Louisa says, than in America.”
“Who cares for respect! I want to laugh and amuse
myself, and have my own way,” exclaimed Adeline.
“It is growing quite warm here—you will find it pleasanter
in the drawing-room, Miss Taylor;” said Elinor, not
caring to listen any longer to Jane's giddy friend.
“Well, if you please, I'll run up to Jane s room, and look
at the fashions — I am dying to see some of her capes and
collars. By-the-bye, I had forgotten two very important
things. Here is a note for your aunt, Miss Elinor; some
private communication from Ma; the coachman will take
the answer. And then, I came over to ask you all to drink
tea with us, this evening, very sociably; nobody but your
own family and three or four friends!”
The invitation was accepted, as a matter of course.
“Good morning, Mr. Hazlehurst; I expect to be shut up
with Jane, for three hours to come; I have really talked
myself out of breath; but that is always the way, with me,
as you know, of old.” And the two girls, hand-in-hand, ran
lightly up stairs, where Elinor, making an excuse of Mrs.
Taylor's note, left them to a confidential tête-à-tête.
| CHAPTER X. Elinor Wyllys, or, The young folk of Longbridge | |