“Fashion is a thing that any one may want who does not happen to be in vogue,” I answered, notwithstanding the great degree of surprise I felt. “As for training, I can see nothing but perfection in Miss Mordaunt as she is, and should deprecate the lessons that produced any change.”
I believe it was now Bulstrode’s turn to feel surprise, for I was conscious of his casting a keen look into my face, though I did not like to return it. My companion was silent for a minute; then, without again adverting to Anneke, he began to converse very sensibly on the subject of theatres and plays. I was both amused and instructed, for Mr. Bulstrode was an educated and a clever man; and a strange feeling came over the spirit of my dream, even then, as I listened to his conversation. This man, I thought, admires Anne Mordaunt, and he will probably carry her with him to England, and obtain for her that fashion and training of which he has just spoken. With his advantages of birth, air, fortune, education, and military rank, he can scarcely fail in his suit, should he seriously attempt one; and it will be no more than prudent to command my own feelings, lest I become the hopeless victim of a serious passion. Young as I was, all this I saw, and thus I reasoned; and when I parted from my companion I fancied myself a much wise man than when we had met. We separated in Duke Street, with a promise on my part to call at the Major’s lodgings half an hour later, after dressing, and walk with him to Herman Mordaunt’s door.
“It is fortunate that it is the fashion of New York to walk to a dinner party,” said Bulstrode, as he again took my arm on our way to Crown Street; “for these narrow streets must be excessively inconvenient for chariots, though I occasionally see one of them. As for sedan chairs, I detest them as things unfit for a man to ride in.”
“Many of our leading families keep carnages, and they seem to get along well enough,” I answered. “Nevertheless, it is quite in fashion even for ladies to walk. I understand that many, perhaps most of your auditors, will walk to the play-house door this evening.”
“They tell me as much,” said Bulstrode, curling his lip, a little, in a way I did not exactly like. “Notwithstanding, there will be many charming creatures among them, and they shall be welcome. Well, Littlepage, I do not despair of having you among us; for, to be candid, without wishing to boast, I think you will find the ——th as liberal a set of young men as there is in the service. There is a wish to have the mohairs among us instead of shutting ourselves up altogether in scarlet. Then your father and grandfather have both served, and that will be a famous introduction.”
I protested my unfitness for such an amusement, never having seen such an exhibition in my life; but to this my companion would not listen; and we picked our way, as well as we could, through William Street, up Wall, and then by Nassau into Crown; Herman Mordaunt owning a new house, that stood not far from Broadway, in the latter street. This was rather in a remote part of the town; but the situation had the advantage of good air; and, as a place extends, it is necessary some persons should live on its skirts.
“I wish my good cousin did not live quite so much in the suburbs,” said Bulstrode, as he knocked in a very patrician manner; “it is not altogether convenient to go quite so much out of one’s ordinary haunts, in order to pay visits. I wonder Mr. Mordaunt came so far out of the world, to build.”
“Yet the distances of London must be much greater though there you have coaches.”
“True; but not a word more on this subject: I would not have Anneke fancy I ever find it far to visit her.”
We were the last but one; the tardy Mr. Harris making it a point always to be the last. We found Anneke Mordaunt supported by two or three ladies of her connection, and a party of quite a dozen assembled. As most of those present saw each other every day, and frequently two or three times a day, the salutations and compliments were soon over, and Herman Mordaunt began to look about him, to see who was wanting.
“I believe everybody is here but Mr. Harris,” the father observed to his daughter, interrupting some of Mr. Bulstrode’s conversation, to let this fact be known. “Shall we wait for him, my dear; he is usually so uncertain and late?”
“Yet a very important man,” put in Bulstrode, “as being entitled to lead the lady of the house to the table, in virtue of his birthright. So much for being the fourth son of an Irish baron! Do you know Harris’s father has just been ennobled?”
This was news to the company; and it evidently much increased the doubts of the propriety of sitting down without the young man in question.
“Failing of this son of a new Irish baron, I suppose you fancy I shall be obliged to give my hand to the eldest son of an English baronet,” said Anneke, smiling, so as to take off the edge of a little irony that I fancy just glimmered in her manner.
“I wish to Heaven you would, Anne Mordaunt,” whispered Bulstrode, loud enough for me to hear him, “so that the heart were its companion!”
I thought this both bold and decided; and I looked anxiously at Anneke, to note the effect; but she evidently received it as trifling, certainly betraying no emotion at a speech I thought so pointed. I wished she had manifested a little resentment. Then she was so very young to be thus importuned!
“Dinner had better be served, sir,” she calmly observed to her father. “Mr. Harris is apt to think himself ill-treated if he do not find everybody at table. It would be a sign his watch was wrong, and that he had come half an hour too soon.”
Herman Mordaunt nodded assent, and left his daughter’s side to give the necessary order.
“I fancy Harris will regret this,” said Bulstrode. “I wish I dared repeat what he had the temerity to say to me on this very subject, no later than yesterday.”
“Of the propriety of so doing, Mr. Bulstrode must judge for himself; though repetitions of this nature are usually best avoided.”
“No, the fellow deserves it; so I will just tell you and Mr. Littlepage in confidence. You must know, as his senior in years, and his senior officer in the bargain, I was hinting to Harris the inexpediency of always being so late at dinner; and here is my gentleman’s answer:—‘You know,’ said he, ‘that excepting my lord Loudon, the Commander-in-chief, the Governor, and a few public officers, I shall now take precedence of almost every man here; and I find, if I go early to dinner, I shall have to hand in all the elderly ladies, and to take my place at their sides; whereas, if I go a little late, I can steal in alongside of their daughters.’ Now, on the present occasion, he will be altogether a loser, the lady of the house not yet being quite fifty.”
“I had not given Mr. Harris credit for so much ingenuity,” said Anneke, quietly. “But here he is to claim his rights.”
“Ay, the fellow has remembered your age, and quite likely your attractions!”
Dinner was announced at that instant, and all eyes were turned on Harris, in expectation that he would advance to lead Anneke down stairs. The young man, even more youthful than myself, had a good deal of mauvaise honte; for, though the son of an Irish peer, of two months’ creation, the family was not strictly Irish, and he had very little ambition to figure in this manner. From what I saw of him subsequently, I do believe that nothing but a sense of duty to his order made him respect these privileges of rank at all, and that he would really just as soon go to a dinner-table last, as first. In the present case, however, he was soon relieved by Herman Mordaunt; who had been educated at home, and understood the usages of the world very well.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “I must ask you to waive the privileges of rank in favour of Mr. Cornelius Littlepage, to-day. This good company has met to do honour especially to his courage and devotion to his fellow-creatures, and he will do me the favour to hand Miss Mordaunt down stairs.”
Herman Mordaunt then pointed out to the Hon. Mr. Harris, the next lady of importance, and to Mr.