University of Virginia Library

13. XIII.
Aunt Solomon Gains Ground.

MRS. SOLOMON FUDGE has attempted to
make her way in New York society, and her
way she is going to make. What she undertakes
to do—and I quote her own words—she is in the
habit of doing. That is her style; and a very
effective style it is.

She is eminently a “strong-minded” woman. If
fortune had determined her lot at the head of an
Orange county dairy, she would have grown up
remarkably red in the face, strong in the elbows,
tyrannic in her demeanor to milk-maids, and eminent
in cheeses. As it is, the surplus energy of her

character works off pleasantly in furbelows, coach-driving,
opera-going, and assiduous cultivation of
respectably-connected young men.

She is gratified with evidence of very perceptible
gain in her advances: I see it in her air; I see it
in her treatment of the whimsical Mr. Bodgers; I
see it, I am sorry to say, in her comparatively
negligent treatment of myself. The time was when
my youthful air, jaunty toilet, and hotel habitude,
rendered my visits impressive and desirable. My
aunt delighted in my society; she gained from me,
in a circuitous way, a great deal of information as
to what was doing in polite circles; and a great
many valuable hints in regard to the city education
of Washington and Wilhelmina. That time is gone
by. I feel myself growing, week by week, of less
consideration.

Mrs. Fudge has achieved, through the indirect
and unwitting action of Mr. Bodgers, an acquaintance
with that elegant young man, Mr. Quid. A
little blight seems to hang upon his father's business
character; in virtue of which, it is thought, the son
is possessed of a large supply of ready money. As
for the mother, there is little said or known about
her; she lived and died in Paris, and was very
probably connected with a princely family—perhaps
that of the Great Mogul himself.

Through Mr. Quid, Mrs. Fudge contrives an
acquaintance with young Spindle; who, being eminently
fashionable, and having formed, as rumor
reports, very distinguished acquaintances abroad, is
quite a feather in the Fudge connection. I may
take occasion to remark here, that a young man of
ambitious social tendencies can hardly play a better
card than by forcing his way—whether by presumption
or strategy—into the houses of British gentlemen
of reputation. Not a few individuals have
come to my knowledge who are now trading largely
and successfully upon this capital alone. The
matter exposes us, it is true, to the occasional
querulous observations of such grumblers as Mr.
Carlyle; but, on the other hand, it supplies our
choicer circles with numerous young men of sharp
shirt-collars and intense interest. For my own
part, I must confess that I always feel a little
doubtful of those social attractions which never
seem to be appreciated except they make their
appearance over seas and out of sight. One of the
best ways in the world for a man to be a gentleman,
is to be a gentleman—at home.

Mrs. Fudge has educated, and is educating,
Wilhelmina—to be married. It is a common aim
of city education; perhaps the very commonest.
Properly pursued, it is a worthy aim; grateful to

parents, and especially grateful to daughters. I
am inclined to think, however, that it should not be
the only aim of life, even with young ladies. Very
many would probably disagree with me. Mrs.
Fudge, in her secret heart, I am confident would
do so. Wilhelmina would do the same.

It is my opinion that she does justice to her
education, and that a prospective husband, rich,
elegant, of good position and yielding manners, is
rarely out of her thoughts or foreign to her plans.
I am confident that she dwells upon the topic, and
shows a power and fertility of imagination in that
direction which would be utterly incomprehensible,
except by young ladies similarly educated. I
should not wonder if she had espoused, in fancy,
a dozen or more of the most distinguished-looking
young men at present upon the stage of city
life.

It would be interesting, indeed, to compute what
proportion of the young ladies' private talk, of the
city or of watering-places, bears relation, either
remotely or directly, to husbands for themselves, or
to husbands for some one else. It would be interesting
to know what variety and fertility of discussion
illustrates those moral, mental, and physical
qualities which go to make up une bonne partie. I
have sometimes thought of taking up the matter

myself, and of executing a treatise upon the subject:
and what with my intimacy with Aunt Solomon and
Wilhelmina, to say nothing of Bridget, Jemima,
and the like, I am confident I could achieve a very
popular work.

Miss Wilhelmina, like most girls of eighteen or
nineteen, has her instinctive likings, and very
romantic ones at that. But under cautious
motherly guidance, they have not as yet cropped
out very luxuriantly. I suspect she was in love
with her music-master—the delightful pale Pole
already alluded to. And had Monsieur Hanstihizy
been John Brown, of the firm of Witless and
Brown, wealthy hide-dealers, and strong upon
'change, the affection would have been encouraged,
doubtless; and perhaps reciprocated.

I am gratified by the confidence which Miss
Wilhelmina reposes in me. She communicates with
me very freely; especially in reference to the
remarks dropped in her hearing by her gentlemen
admirers. I am inclined to think that she likes to
ascertain, in a careless way, my interpretation of
their inuendoes, though she does not say this. It is
certain that she listens very kindly and keenly to
any gratuitous explanations of mine. Generally,
however, she had surmised “as much herself.” She
is “by no means disposed to count men in earnest—

not she. She has seen too much of society for that,
she hopes.”

Mrs. Fudge, being a keen observer, is a reasonably
good tactician; her tactics, however, are
rather brusque; and I have a fear that she may
injure Wilhelmina's prospects in consequence.

The real state of Mrs. Fudge's feelings I take to
be this; indeed, in confidential moments I think
she may possibly express herself to her daughter in
this way:

“Wilhe, dear, you are my only daughter, and I
naturally take great pride in your success. You
are now getting to an age at which you may
reasonably hope to create some remark. Your
father's position is a good one in the moneyed
world, and also to some extent in the political.
You will not forget, my dear, that your father was
for some time mayor.

“Washington I hope brilliant things from on his
return from Paris. He was always inclined to
dancing, and he has a distinguished figure.

“Do not be in haste to be married, my dear;
there is no greater mistake a young girl can make.
You have advantages—great advantages. It is
highly proper that you should use them. Try and
be conciliating, Wilhe. Young Mr. Quid is an
interesting person, besides being fashionable. I

hear that he is wealthy, and I would be cautious
about offending him seriously. At the same time,
a little piquant quarrel is often very serviceable,
and gives you occasion to appear very amiable.
You should treat Tommy Spindle with great consideration:
he is of a distinguished family, and you
will find an intimacy with him—I might almost
say, if I approved of such things, a flirtation—very
serviceable.

“Your cousin Tony (the reader will spare my
blushes) I beg you to humor: he is past the age
when you need have any fear of an association of
your name with his; and there being a remote
cousinship, I think you might banter him very
familiarly. With all his conceit, he has really seen
a good deal of society; and though I would by
no means recommend direct questioning, yet you
may pick up a good deal of instruction from him
about society, without his once suspecting your
design.

“Your cousin Kitty you should treat kindly.
It is not necessary to be familiar. She is a poor
girl, and, as you must see, quite countrified. She
seems an amiable, sprightly creature, and with your
advantages, Wilhe, of position and of wealth, would
very likely have been a belle. I think young
Spindle has met her, and is pleased with her. You

should take occasion to speak kindly of her—especially
of her naïve country manner.

“Bridget and Jemima are very good girls in
their way, and we must invite them here some day;
perhaps during Lent. But I beg you would keep
yourself on your guard, and don't show a familiarity
upon which they can at all presume.”

As for my uncle Solomon, I suspect he has never
been very much interested in the fashionable ménage
of my aunt. It humors him to find Wilhe admired;
it would humor him more to see her married to the
son of a fat broker, of large expectations. He
regards everything about the town, and in the
world generally, as ephemeral and sentimental,
which does not have reference to stocks or good
position in the moneyed circles. He delights in the
respect shown him by quite a horde of bank-clerks;
he admires their reverence; he is gratified by it.
He has the highest regard for such benefactors of
their race as the Rothschilds, Barings, and the late
Mr. Astor.

He likes to see his name in the papers; and if he
could at breakfast read the announcement that
“our eminent merchant, Mr. Solomon Fudge, late
mayor, has, we understand, entered into partnership
with the house of Barings, and will henceforth
occupy himself with the supervision of their American

business,” he would be ready to die at dinner,
and leave my aunt a widow. I am confident of this.

The last Fudge ball was reckoned, I am proud to
say, one of the crowning triumphs of the season.
In some of the details of ceremonial my advice was
deemed essential. I feel justified in saying that
it was fashionably attended. Mrs. Fudge having
made interest with one or two old belles of a tractable
disposition, by virtue of a shower of opera-tickets
and such like attentions, had the pleasure of
greeting a great many desirable people for the first
time. The Spindle girls, after long discussion, had
consented to honor madame: it was remembered
that Mr. Fudge had been mayor; that the daughter
was bien élevée; and that Washington, on his return
from Paris, might turn out—who could tell?—
something desirable.

Mrs. Fudge was earnest in her receptions, and
very red in the face: at best it is hot work, but
with my aunt Solomon's intensity of manner, I am
sure it must have been frightful.

Desirable young men were even more abundant
than the same quality of ladies. They are, I observe,
by far less fastidious in their socialities than the
gentler sex: besides which, the suppers on such
occasions are specially bounteous, and fresh flirtations
offer with those bouncing parvenues, who are

very apt to put on a little boldness of manner and
familiarity of approach, to cover, perhaps, a certain
lack of the habit of society.

A certain Count Salle, with eye-glass and white
waistcoat, set off with crimson edging, was absolutely
ravishing. His devotion to Miss Wilhelmina
was unbounded; and I have my suspicions that he
uprooted many of those tender feelings which my
cousin had previously entertained for young men
generally, and Mr. Quid in special. It was delightful
to witness the matronly pride with which my
indulgent aunt regarded this new and brilliant
conquest. It is quite impossible to picture the
irradiation of her face: only the presence of Washington
to bewitch the three Misses Spindle—a feat
he would undoubtedly have accomplished—was
needed to complete her triumph.

I cannot say that any unusual or important
incident occurred. At a New York party they do
not ordinarily occur. The loss of a new hat, or even
of sobriety itself, is not to be spoken of. The good
humor and social bonhommie of the old-fashioned,
quiet gathering is gone from our day. And the
modern jam seems to me to bear about the same
relation to a fairly-filled room of genial people, who
are not shy of each other, that a fashionable dinner-party—where
you have to gauge your conversation

by the card upon your neighbor's plate—bears to
the old sort of cozy companionship of four good
fellows over a generous joint and a pot-bellied little
decanter of South-side wine.

Of course my aunt thought differently; and so
thought Wilhelmina; and Uncle Solomon yielded
to it, as one of the disagreeable necessities of what
Mrs. Fudge calls their “growing position.” I have
heard of other husbands who have yielded in the
same way, and for the same reasons.

I said that no incident occurred; I mistake.
An incident did occur. It was verging toward the
middle of the night. Madame was fully satisfied
that Wilhelmina had acquitted herself bewitchingly,
and had succeeded in captivating that elegant
gentleman, the French Count. She had gratulated
herself on having won such honor in the eyes of the
Pendletons as would entitle her to a respectful bow
from their carriage ever after; she felt sure of this.
She had even ventured across the room, to drop
a few encouraging words to that neglected lady,
the elder Miss Spindle, when she was startled by
the abrupt entrance of a stout, middle-aged gentleman,
with his arm swung in a yellow bandanna,
and accompanied by a gentle, timid girl in white
muslin, with only a simple coral necklace, by way
of ornament.

The parties were Mr. Bodgers, and our little
friend Kitty. The old gentleman greeted “Cousin
Phœbe” in the most friendly manner imaginable;
assuring her that he never saw her looking
“smarter”—that she was “plump as a partridge;”
which indeed she was, and a very fat partridge at
that.

The Misses Spindle tittered immoderately; and
Mrs. Pinkerton looked as if she thought the presence
of such a kindly-spoken old gentleman, was
a personal affront.

As for my aunt Phœbe, her color became
frightful;—most of all when the old gentleman, in
excess of good-feeling, or of mischief-loving, patted
her, with his sound arm, upon the shoulder.

Never was a bit of kindness so ungratefully
received in the world. And Mrs. Solomon would,
I am sure, have given half the wax-lights in the
room, to be rid of the old gentleman and his pretty
protégée.

Miss Kitty possessed that charming coyness of
manner which attracts in the town assemblages,
not less for its intrinsic beauty than for its exceeding
rarity. Indeed, I suspect that she created a
diversion among the besiegers of my cousin Wilhelmina,
which may possibly work unexpected consequences.
And she did this all the more effectively

(let me say, for the benefit of those concerned)
because she did it quite unconsciously.

Mr. Spindle, who had once breakfasted in company
with a baronet, and accomplished many
similar social feats, appeared to be quite charmed
with the native graces of Kitty; and paid her
a degree of attention that proved a very successful
offset to the coquetries of Wilhelmina with the
Count. For there is something, after all, in a fair
and honest girlish brow, though it be not set off
with the arts and the smirks of the town education,
which steals its way to the inner places of even
a bad man's heart, and which kindles in him a little
wishfulness of better things than belong to the
high-road of fashion.

How it happened that Mr. Bodgers and Miss
Kitty should be in such place at such time, and
how my little cousin Kitty sustained herself under
the exuberant addresses of Mr. Quid, I must take
another chapter to tell.

— Not, however, before I go back to follow
the Parisian advances of my excellent male cousin,
George Washington Fudge, whom I left amid all
the delightful experiences of an intrigue with the
elegant Miss Jenkins.