University of Virginia Library

18. CHAPTER XVIII.
THE ARUMS AND CRUDLES GO TO CHURCH IN THEIR FINE DRESSES,
AND ARE ECLIPSED BY PATTY O'PAN.

It was Sunday, a bright, beautiful, inspiring day; and every
body in the village not belonging to the other denominations,
seemed determined to attend the services in the ancient church,
of which Mr. Amble was the rector, and in which the Winkles
had worshipped their Maker for many generations. Lowe had
visited the widow for the purpose of accompanying her to
church, and to confound the gossips who were industriously
circulating the report of his elopement with Lucy. Amused,
rather than annoyed at the creduity and uncharitableness of

the people, he had secluded himself since his return from the
city, and had seized an opportunity when no idle gazers were
in the street, to cross over to the widow's cottage.

Walter was in high spirits. His mother had made known
to him his sister's desire to have the place of her temporary
abode kept a profound secret, and he had promised not to
divulge it. But he was ignorant of the cause of her flight,
and could only conjecture that it grew out of a desire to defer
coming to a decision on the various matrimonial proposals which
he doubted not had been made her. Lowe had even ventured
to inform him, that the mysterious disappearance of his
sister had given rise to a rumor of an elopement; at which
Walter laughed very heartily, and begged his friend not to
contradict it.

If one could have seen the hearts, and read the inclinations
of the members of Mr. Amble's congregation that morning,
it is quite possible he would have found a large proportion
of them entertaining a desire to witness the humiliation of
the occupants of the conspicuous pew of the Winkles. Some
were merely curious; but more were exultant.

They determined to go to church at an earlier time than
usual that morning, to see the remnant of the proud Winkle
family enter after themselves, and proceed in dejected procession
to the old pew. Besides, nearly every member of the
congregation had to pass Mrs. Winkle's door on the way to
church; and their triumphant smiles, and felicitous glances
might be seen and comprehended by any of the family happening
to be looking out of the windows. The Arums and
Crudles in particular, who had been disappointed the preceding
Sunday in the exhibition of their fine dresses and new
bonnets, to a large audience, in consequence of a threatening
cloud—which, however, had not deterred them from walking
to church, although it had driven the curious gazers from the
street—were now resolved to make a crushing parade of their
earthly habiliments. Their faces were wreathed in smiles, as
if an unwonted happiness had been reserved for them that
morning. They were now the undisputed belles of the village,
and the Winkles could never again “look down” on
them, unless it were from their hiding-places.

It is not, perhaps, a singular idiosiyncrasy of our nature
to become more condescending and complaisant to those beneath
us in the social scale, after we have levelled in the dust

all who have long towered above us. It was so with the
Arums and Crudles. All little rivalries and jealousies that
had existed between them were immediately reconciled upon
the announcement of the elopement, and uniting their forces,
they visited in turn every acquaintance they had in the village,
for the purpose of spreading the joyful tidings. Many of
their own sex, who had aspired to be their rivals in beauty and
accomplishments, in the absence of wealth, and who had often
incurred their enmity, were now familiarly accosted, and the
news proclaimed to them. Even the shopkeepers' daughters,
and some few of the mechanics' wives, were informed by the
friendly belles of the horrible occurrence. And when they
ceased the round of visits—and such incessant visiting had
never been known before in Babbleton—they stood on their
marble steps, or promenaded in front of their houses, and imparted
the glad tidings to any familiar pedestrians.

At the ringing of the first bell a hundred doors flew open
simultaneously, and the street leading past the widow's door
to the church, was filled with men and women—mostly women.
The Arums led the procession, followed by the Crudles.
They flaunted the magnificent apparel, and the fantastic
fashions, which had been ostentatiously but vainly displayed
on the Sunday before, but which had not escaped the particular
attention of Lowe, as will be seen immediately.

And Lowe, and Walter, and even the merry widow, were
now delighted spectators. They were peeping through the
Venetian blinds, themselves unseen.

On swept the leaders of fashion—and Patty O'Pan flirted
out into the street, and, accompanied by Bill Dizzle, swept
after them. Her advent was announced by a universal outburst
of laughter. The children, in particular, could not be
restrained. Her dress was precisely similar to the costly
ones of the Arums, and her bonnet and ribbons, and feathers
and flowers, exactly the kind worn by the Crudles. Bill
walked the curb, deeming it next to profanation to approach
within six feet of such a gorgeous creation. He was dressed
in his “Sunday best,” and strove with all his might to manifest,
by his carriage and gestures, his great admiration of
Patty.

The Arums and Crudles gazed behind in amazement, and
irrepressible anger, which was the signal for a louder outburst
of merriment than ever. And then, discomfited, and agitated

with shame and mortification, they hastened to escape the
odious comparison by vanishing out of public view. But even
the church did not screen them, for Patty and Dizzle had obtained
permission to occupy Mr. Dowly's pew, in full view of
the congregation, and just across the aisle from the Arums.
There was a buzz among the women; some angry looks; and
many merry faces. Lowe and Miss Wilsome had done their
work well; and the habiliments of the rich parvenus were so
striking, and the imitation of Patty O'Pan so perfect and
conspicuous, that the comparison was inevitable. Nor, indeed,
did Patty have just cause to shrink from the scrutiny: for
nature had bestowed on her a finer form than any of her contemptuous
rivals could boast. But that did not prevent malignant
whispers from circulating. She was every thing that
was vile, and her master a monster of evil. Of course, no
girl could earn in an honest way enough money to indulge
such extravagancies; and the brazen impudence of such an
exposure, and in a Christian church, was too abominable to
be borne. Such were the thoughts of the indignant Mrs.
Arum, and she wrote them down with her pencil on a card,
and sent it to Mr. Amble by the sexton.

“Good heavens!” exclaimed the minister, upon reading
the note. “What is to be done? The church will lose the
contributions of the Arums and Crudles, if she is not removed!
What shall I do? Go, sexton, and tell this Patty
O'Pan the pew she is in belongs to Mr. Dowly, who may arrive
at any moment.”

The sexton, after a short absence, reappeared before the
anxious minister in the vestry room.

“She says she knows whose pew it is, sir; and that she
applied for permission to occupy it, and obtained it. And
she told me to mind my business, and not meddle with her
affairs, sir.”

“What shall be done?” continued Amble, wringing his
hands. “Old John Dowly, poor as he is, gives as much to
the church as any other man! Do try and get that Dizzle boy
out.”

“He shook his fist at me, sir!”

“He did? I'll pound them in my sermon! The pew
shall be made a hot place for them; and I'll contrive to
please the Arums and Crudles. Here, take these few lines
to Mrs. Arum. To think this Patty's paramour once read

the service in my church! And that the Winkles, who built
the church originally, have disgraced themselves!”

Another sensation was produced by the arrival of Mrs.
Griselda Winkle's equipage. She descended in great state,
alone, being unattended by her lord, who was never a regular
attendant at church, though a regular contributor to its treasury.
She floated in, richly dressed, and sparkling with jewels.
After bowing to the Arums and Crudles, and returning the
smiles of others, she was startled upon taking possession of
her pew, at the appearance of Patty O'Pan and Bill Dizzle, in
her immediate vicinity. Bill could stand it no longer, and in
obedience to a look from the imperious bride, whose meaning
did not admit of misconstruction, the frog-catcher slunk quietly
out of the church, without even attracting the notice of
Patty, so accomplished was he in the art of creeping about
unobserved.

A few moments sufficed for one of the Arums to glide
into Griselda's pew, and impart to her the news. The astonished
bride glanced at the vacant Winkle pew, and then elevated
her eyes in a sort of half exultant and half commiserating
astonishment. She then frowned very fiercely at Patty,
to whose splendid dress Miss Arum had next directed her
attention. But Patty was better nerved than Dizzle, and
thrust out her nether lip, in open defiance of the proud milliner.
She even pointed significantly at her bonnet, meaning, perhaps,
that Griselda herself was nothing better than a milliner.

Matters remained thus until every pew was occupied but
the one where Lucy used to sit. No one ventured to go into
it! But, just in time to avoid being too late to hear the first
verses read, the widow Winkle appeared at the door with her
usual merry smile. And she was attended by Lowe and Walter.
They stepped forward deliberately, and occupied the
vacant pew towards which so many glances had been cast.
There was a silence, a sudden hush in the congregation, which
the appearance of the minister had never produced. And this
no one knew better than Mr. Amble himself, who stood silent,
or stupefied, gazing at the widow's party, and particularly at
Lowe, as if doubtful of his identity. And many others did the
same, wondering if, after what they had heard, it could possibly
be Mr. Lowe himself. It seemed so. The Arums and
Crudles could not deny it—and they ceased to cast their
exultant glances about, and checked their significant smiles.

Indeed, from the apparent elongation of their chins, one might
have supposed their pleasantries had been abruptly annihilated
by some unlooked for vexation.

The sermon was a dull one, for Mr. Amble was obliged to
deviate from the subject he had selected with a view of indirectly
referring to the recent occurrence, which had been the
topic of his parishioners. He saw that there was some mistake
in the matter; and there could hardly be any foundation for
the report which implicated Mr. Lowe, since he had accompanied
Lucy's mother to church. Nor did Mrs. Winkle's and
Walter's placid countenances indicate that Lucy had taken
any step calculated to plunge them in misery.

After the sermon, Griselda hastened out of the church and
ordered the coachman to drive her home without delay. She
was too wise to be identified with any of the parties until she
could know precisely the true state of affairs.

The Arums and Crudles were again subjected to the mortification
of having to share the admiration of the public with
Patty O'Pan. And that the cause of their annoyance might
not be absent from their sight, Patty chose, this time, to keep
immediately in front of them, still attended by Dizzle at an
awfully respectful distance from her elbow.

The Arums and Crudles did not attend the afternoon
services, but remained at home venting their censures on the
sexton, Lowe, Dowly, and even on Mr. Amble himself, as if
it had been his duty to keep such cattle as Patty O'Pan in
their proper places.

But in the afternoon Col. Oakdale's carriage drove up to
the church-yard gate, and Walter had the satisfaction of seeing
Virginia descend from it. He had stepped forward to assist
her in alighting, but was anticipated by Roland, who had accompanied
her and her father from the country. Walter
shook hands as usual with Roland, being still profoundly
ignorant of his wicked machinations.

The colonel, after his daughter and Roland had entered the
door, plucked Walter aside, and encouraged him to persevere
in his design of aiming a fatal blow at the fanatical reformers,
at the great meeting to be held at the court-house in Babbleton
on the following night. The colonel owed Roland some
$10,000, and although they were opposed to each other in
politics, of course friendly personal relations had always subsisted
between them. And if the colonel himself did not

choose to come in conflict with his creditor on the stump, he
had no hesitation in stimulating others to do so. Besides, it
was supposed he aspired to a seat in the U. S. Senate, and the
choice was to be made at the next session of the legislature.
Walter promised to do his utmost; and the fact that Roland
had monopolized the attention of Virginia, was not calculated
to produce an abandonment of his purpose.