 | CHAPTER V. The King of the Hurons |  |
5. CHAPTER V.
From those who spoke her praise.”
—Goldsmith.
Mrs. Sniff was a slender little widow, of active tongue, whose
dear departed had grown enamored of the grave, by hearing it
described as a place of silence, and was strongly suspected of having
taken a voluntary leave of life. If his relict had not mourned
deeply for her bereavement, then there was no virtue in crape; for
hers was of the finest quality, and was selected, with the discriminating
eye of grief, from the most recent importations. Mrs. Sniff
was frequently astonished to find herself on the very verge of forty,
—a circumstance singular in itself, and well worthy of surprise, inasmuch
as she had been christened somewhat over half a century;
but she possessed a knack at aping girlhood which might almost
cheat Father Time himself, and which, in the apprehensions of some
neighboring spinsters, bade fair to prevent her being harvested in
due season.
A snug little house and garden, and a very shadowy income, were
the widow's, who, with a single servant, lived alone in a retired
quarter of the city; and it was not without delight that she received
propositions from a fine-looking foreigner to admit two young ladies
into her household, not exactly as boarders, of course, but as companions
and friends, who would pay a very liberal stipend for the
favor, and ask no questions. But if Mrs. Sniff was delighted, she
was careful not to appear so; she really did not know, she was
entirely unused to anything of the kind; but she certainly had some
quite respectable, and would reflect no dishonor upon the roof of
her dear departed Sniff, she thought she might bring herself to consent,—the
pay, of course, to be in advance. The captain, who had
kindly undertaken this commission, by reason of Father Ledra's ignorance
of the English language, succeeded in satisfying the expected
hostess of the entire worthiness of her guests, and in baffling her
curious endeavors to ascertain any particulars of their history. The
situation seemed to him in every way desirable. Seclusion was a
primary object with Miss Montaigne, who was enjoined to hold herself
in readiness to depart, whenever her father should be able to
send an escort for her safety; and, in the meantime, to live as retired
as possible, and, above all things, to conceal her real name. The
preliminaries of a treaty were therefore arranged, not to be ratified,
however, until after a personal inspection of the premises by Miss
Emily; an inquisition, at the mention of which Mrs. Sniff exhibited
much uneasiness, and begged it might be deferred until the following
day. If the ladies were to be allowed to choose for themselves, it
was manifestly quite a different affair. Fathers, and uncles, and
guardians are easily gammoned, thought the widow, but when it
comes to these meddling girls, flying about the house, peering into
every corner, and turning up their noses at all the shifts and artifices
of genteel poverty, that is another thing. And so it was. But
forewarned is forearmed, thought Mrs. Sniff; and no sooner had the
captain withdrawn, than the house was turned forthwith out of the
windows, and thoroughly renovated, by the aid of two borrowed
slaves, who, belonging to a Dutchman, had been taught that cleanliness
was a cardinal virtue, and quite essential to salvation. Having
thus made sure that no unbecoming sights or odors would greet the
sensitive organs of her visitors, everything was carefully replaced,
the scanty finery being skilfully divided between the two rooms
designed for their use, and some very bountiful bouquets adorning
the respective mantels. The little parlor below was made to do its
a fine view of the East river, and of the opposite shore of Long
Island; the garden was put in hasty trim, and the widow herself,
particularly prim, received Miss Roselle with many regrets that her
house and premises were unusually out of order, by reason of a long
catalogue of disturbing influences which she proceeded to relate.
Emily had been cautioned not to be over particular, as the retirement
would counterbalance many defects; and she tripped daintily
about the house for some time, preceded by her chattering hostess,
who herself decried everything with such an amazing humility that
she quite disarmed criticism. But Miss Roselle was in truth surprised
at the general air of neatness which she encountered; and
contenting herself, therefore, with much indistinct murmuring, she
dictated a few unimportant alterations, by way of a salvo to her
authority, and at length condescendingly expressed her satisfaction.
“This will be your own room, I presume,” said Mrs. Sniff, re-enter-ing
the better chamber; “it is the largest and most airy, and the
view from the window is so charming.”
“I think I shall prefer the other,” Emily replied, slightly coloring,
for she perceived that she was taken for the principal of the two
strangers; “I do not fancy large rooms, and this love of a morning
glory under the window will be so delightful.”
And so the bargain was concluded, and on the same day Blanche
and Emily were quietly settled in their new quarters. It was with
a singular feeling of desolation that Miss Montaigne contemplated
her new position. Separated from her father for an indefinite period,
and anticipating a speedy parting with both of her remaining protectors,
she might well look forward with misgivings to the future.
Father Ledra was to sail in a few days in a Dutch vessel bound to
Holland, and was thus to regain his home; and Captain Sill, who
by some private diplomacy with the governor had obtained permission
to depart, took advantage of the same opportunity. They
called together on the day of embarkation to take a final leave of
of their hostess, who being, as she protested, but a girl herself,
feared that she could not do much for them; but promised to watch
over them with a sisterly care.
“We are three young things together, Captain Sill,” she said,
delighted that she had so distinguished a personage under her roof,
“and my little dove-cot here, as I call it, is quite without a protector,
since the loss of my poor dear —;” she did not say Sniff, but
substituted the action for the word, which answered the purpose
quite as well.
Blanche was deeply affected at parting with Father Ledra, for
whom she had the sincerest regard; nor did she fail to reciprocate
the kindness of the worthy captain, who seemed to take almost a
paternal interest in her welfare. Nothing, indeed, but the imperative
claims of a beloved family at home would have induced him to leave
New York, until he had seen Miss Montaigne re-united to her
friends, and at times he felt disposed to urge her return with him to
Paris, but the injunctions of the baron were, of course, a law which
they had no right to disregard.
The departure of the visitors left Mrs. Sniff in a sad state of perplexity.
There had been something of deference in their deportment
towards the young ladies, which induced her to suspect that the
latter must be persons of considerable distinction; and the airs of
Miss Emily and the reserve of the beautiful Blanche, both strengthened
her suspicions. Here, then, was a rare turn in Fortune's
wheel; to have disguised countesses and marchionesses, or duchesses,
perhaps, under her roof, and selecting her out from all
the city for their friend and protectress. She always knew she had
never been appreciated—Mrs. Sniff did; and thought her time would
come, and now at last it had. Her own excessive gentility had
done it all,—she could see that clearly enough; and it would never
have happened if her poor dear Sniff had been in the way, who had
always been a clog upon her, and prevented her from rising to she
trepidation that she looked forward to the duties imposed upon her
by so delicate a station. She would, doubtless, she thought, be
called upon to act as a sort of usher for the young ladies in good
society, where they would of course be emulous to shine; and she
began to think over the list of her visiting acquaintances to see who
among them was of sufficient rank to serve her in such an emergency.
There was young Shiel, a very distant cousin of her own,
who was a fashionable man about town, and was said to be on
intimate terms with Lord Cornbury. True, he was a scamping
fellow, dissolute and worthless; but then he was genteel, and the
very man whom it was her duty, as a friend and protectress of the
young ladies, to introduce to them. But Shiel, unfortunately, could
scarcely be reckoned as an acquaintance; for although there had
long been a tradition in the family of her having once refused his
hand at a dance in favor of her newly-betrothed Sniff; and although
his apparition had frequently been raised in family altercations, to
the great terror of that meek gentleman, as one of the “might have
hads” of his much injured spouse; notwithstanding all this, Shiel
had coolly put up his eye-glass on meeting her for the last twenty
years, and never succeeded in discovering who she was. But then
Shiel was getting to be an elderly young man, and might be contemplating
matrimony; and with such rare attractions as the dove-cot
now possessed, he could of course be brought around. Well,
then, there was Shiel to begin with. But Mrs. Sniff pondered a long
time before she could think of any one else. There was the Dutch
alderman at the corner, whose purse was supposed to be altogether
bottomless, it was so very deep; but he was a crotchety old fellow
who cared nothing for countesses; and his buxom daughter Sally,
whose face was always blazing with the unexpired tints of the
kitchen fire, could scarcely be shown off to much advantage. But
then there was—strange that she had not thought of him sooner—
young Henrich Huntington, so handsome, so aristocratic-looking, so
an English University, and for whom many a rich Dutch belle would
have given her very ears, with their great golden drops in the
bargain. True he was poor, but the countesses need never know
that if he only kept his own counsel, which she had no doubt he
would. And then, he had a love of a little sail-boat, and could give
them such delightful excursions up the rivers and down the bays,
and away off to Hedge-hog Point and Gibbet Island; which latter
place, although not exactly a place of amusement, possessed the
attraction of several capital swings, of such an enchaining character
that those who once entered them could never tear themselves away.
The widow Sniff, indeed, possessed a vivid imagination, and saw
everything of the color of the rose, excepting her weeds, which she
resolved to discard; and having emerged from her cloud of sables
she could easily, she thought, fall back to thirty-five, by the aid of
rings, ringlets, and a blonde veil. If her lodgers had thought her
genteel before, what would they think then; and as to Mr. Shiel,
why there was such a thing as reviving the embers of a decayed
passion, and there was no telling what might happen; so the
duchesses, after all, must take their chance.
Thus, long and sagely, did Mrs. Sniff plot and ponder; but all
her schemes, like many originating in wiser heads, were destined to
avail but little. Some of her aims remained unaccomplished, and
others, as will be seen, attained a fulfilment which owed but little to
her agency.
| CHAPTER V. The King of the Hurons | |