Elinor Wyllys Volume I Part 7

Hazlehurst, and observes, that he sees him, almost every day, in the TULLYREES; which, Thomas says, is the RENDY-VUSS of the fashionable world, in Paris."

"Will your son return home soon?"

"Why, no; I think not. He went for six months; but he calculates, now, to stay some time longer. I am told, Mr. Hazlehurst will not return until next year;--they might make the European TOWER together. But Thomas seems to like the CAFFIES and the BULLY-VARDS of Paris, too much to move from that city."

Elinor was going to take another sketch from the table, when Charlie quickly pa.s.sed his hand between Mr. Taylor and herself, and drew the paper away.

"I beg your pardon--but it is a wretched thing; I did not know it was there," said the youth, hastily.

"Pray, let me look at it," said Elinor, "for, I thought, I recognised a friend."

"You must not see it, indeed, Miss Elinor; I dare say, you took it for anybody but the right person;" said Charlie, a good deal embarra.s.sed, and hurriedly handing Elinor something else to look at.

She was surprised at his nervous manner, but said nothing more.

"I honestly think, Charlie," said Mr. Wyllys, who had been examining the landscape, that Mr. C-----, and Mr. I-----, will tell you to persevere, after this. There is something about the water, in your picture, that strikes me as unusually good."

"I am very glad to hear you say so; for there is nothing I like to paint so much as water. I took great pains with that part of my piece; but it does not satisfy me yet."

"Do you intend to make use of water-colours altogether, in your paintings?" asked Mr. Taylor.

Charlie looked puzzled, and the merchant repeated his question.

"I should think, you would find water-colours cheaper; but oils must be more durable. Which are most generally in use among painters?"

Charlie, understanding the point, at last, explained that water-colours, and oils, were two entirely distinct branches of the art.

"Which is your picture, there, done in?"

"I am learning to paint in oils, sir."

"And that porTRATE, overhead, which is your father, I presume; is that in oils, too?"

"Yes, sir.--There are very few pictures, of that size, in water-colours, I believe. Here is a miniature, in water-colours, which Mrs. Van Horne lent me; I am taking a large picture, in oils, from it."

Mr. Taylor examined the miniature. "It has puzzled me considerably," he observed, "to know how painters could change the size of an object, and be correct, without measuring it off in feet and inches; but, I suppose, that is what you term perspective."

One is sometimes surprised by the excessive ignorance, on all matters concerning the fine arts, betrayed in this country, by men of some education; very clever, in their way, and quite equal to making a speech or a fortune, any day. In Europe, just notions, on such matters, are much more widely spread. But, after all, such a state of things is perfectly natural; we have hitherto had no means of cultivating the general taste, in America, having few galleries or even single works of art, open to the public. With the means, it is probable, that as we grow older, we shall improve, in this respect. That there is talent, ay, genius, in the country, sufficient to produce n.o.ble works of art, has been already proved. Nor can it be doubted, that there is latent feeling, and taste enough, among the people, to appreciate them, if it were called forth by cultivation. It is only a brutal and sluggish nation, who cannot be made to feel, as well as think. The cultivation necessary, however, is not that which consists in forcing the whole body of the people to become conceited smatterers; but that which provides a full supply of models for mediocrity to copy, and for talent to rival. It is evident, that common sense requires us to pursue one of two courses; either to give true talent, in every field--in literature, in music, painting, sculpture, architecture--some share of the honourable encouragement which is its due, or else honestly to resign all claim to national merit, in these branches of civilization; leaving the honour to the individual. As neither the government, nor men singly, can do much toward encouraging the arts, this would seem to be the very field in which societies might hope to produce great results. Would it not be a good innovation, if those who often unite to present some public testimonial of respect to an individual, should select, instead of the piece of plate, usual on such occasions, a picture or work of sculpture? Either, it is to be supposed, if respectable in its way, would be a more agreeable offering, to a person of education, than gold or silver in the shape most modern workmen give them. Under such circ.u.mstances, who would not prefer a picture by Cole or Wier {sic}, a statue like Greenough's Medora, Power's Eve, or Crawford's Orpheus, to all the silver salvers in New York? Who would not prefer even a copy from some fine bust or head of antiquity, from some celebrated cabinet picture, to the best medal that has yet been struck in this country?

{"Cole" = Thomas Cole (1801-1848), American painter and founder of the so-called Hudson River School of landscape painting; "Wier" = Robert Weir (1803-1889), another American landscape painter; "Greenough" = Horatio Greenough (1805-1852), American sculptor, and a close friend of Susan Fenimore Cooper's father; "Power" = Hiram Powers (1805-1873), another famous American sculptor; "Crawford" = Thomas Crawford (1813-1857), another American sculptor, whose statue of Orpheus was purchased by the Boston Athenaeum; "cabinet picture" = picture exhibited in a gallery or museum}

Thoughts like these were pa.s.sing through Mr. Wyllys's mind, as he sat looking at Charlie's picture. Mrs. Taylor had, in the mean time, been making arrangements for her younger children to enter Miss Patsey's school for the summer. Mr. Taylor having joined the ladies, something was heard about 'terms,' and the affair appeared settled. Miss Agnes having mentioned to Mrs. Taylor that she had intended calling on her, but would now postpone it until another day, she was so strongly urged to accompany them home, that she consented to do so, aware that the visit should have been paid some time before. Accordingly, they all left the Hubbards together.

It was not often that Miss Patsey's little parlour was so full, and so much littered, as it had been that afternoon; it generally looked crowded, if it contained two or three persons besides the minister's portrait, and was thought out of order, if the large rocking-chair, or the clumsy, old-fashioned tea-table did not stand in the very positions they had occupied for the last twelve years.

Very different was the aspect of things at Mr. Taylor's. Not that the rooms were imposing, in size, but the elegance of the furniture was so very striking. Of course, there were two drawing-rooms, with folding-doors and Brussels carpets; while everything corresponded to a fashionable model. Mrs. Taylor, good soul, cared very little for these vanities of life. The window-blinds, in her two drawing-rooms, were never opened, except for some occasional morning visiter or evening tea-party; she herself used what she called the 'living room,' where she could have her younger children about her, and darn as many stockings as she chose. The drawing-rooms were opened, however, for the Wyllyses, who were urged to stay to tea. Miss Agnes declined the invitation, though Mr. Wyllys and herself remained long enough to look at the plan of a new house, which Mr. Taylor was to build shortly; it was to be something quite grand, far surpa.s.sing anything of the kind in the neighbourhood, for Mr.

Taylor had made a mint of money during the past winter.

CHAPTER VI.

"What say'st thou? Wilt thou go along?"

Henry VI.

{William Shakespeare, "3 Henry VI", IV.v.25}

JANE GRAHAM joined Elinor at Wyllys-Roof, after having made her parting curtsey to Mrs. G-----. Her parents lived at Charleston; but as her const.i.tution was delicate, and required a more bracing air than that of Carolina, Jane had been more than once, for a twelvemonth at a time, entirely under Miss Wyllys's charge, and was seldom absent from Longbridge for more than a few months together. It was now settled that she was to remain with Elinor until the autumn, when her parents, who were coming north for a couple of months, were to carry her back to Charleston. Miss Adeline Taylor, of course, found it impossible to remain longer at school, when Jane, her bosom-friend, had left it. She, too, returned to her family in the country, prepared to enliven the neighbourhood to the best of her ability. The intimacy between these two young ladies was only riveted more closely by the necessity of living under different roofs; Adeline, indeed, protested that she found the separation so distressing, that she thought it would be an excellent plan, to divide the winter together, between Charleston and New York; Jane to pa.s.s the first three months with her, and she, in her turn, to accompany her friend to Charleston, later in the season. But Jane thought her mother would now wish to have her return home as soon as possible, as it was already nearly a year since she had seen her family. This affair, however, was not quite decided; Adeline declaring that she could not bear to give up the idea, hinting that there were all-important reasons for their remaining together during the next winter.

Elinor often wondered that her cousin should find so much pleasure in this intimacy with Miss Taylor, whom she was far from liking herself; and she could not help thinking that Adeline was more persevering in pursuit of Jane, than was agreeable. The dislikes of young girls of seventeen are seldom violent, however, whatever their likings may be. She made the best of it, and the three girls were often together.

One evening, when they had been drinking tea at Mrs. Taylor's, Elinor was much struck with a change in Jane's manner, which she had already observed several times of late, when they had been in society together. As they were coming home, and alone together in the carriage, she spoke to her cousin on the subject.

"How gay you were to-night, Jane! I never saw you in better spirits."

"Was I? Well, I'm very tired now; it is almost too much for me, Elinor, to be so lively."

"Was it an effort? Did you not feel well?" inquired Elinor.

"I felt very well, indeed, before we went; but it tires me so to be animated."

"If it fatigues you to go out, my dear Jane, we had better stay at home next time we are asked; but I thought you wished to go this evening."

"So I did. It does not tire me at all to go out; there is nothing I like so much as going to parties. If one could only do as they pleased--just sit still, and look on; not laughing and talking all the time, it would be delightful."

"That is what I have often done at parties," said Elinor, smiling; "and not from choice either, but from necessity."

"Do you really think that a person who is engaged ought not to talk?"

"No, indeed;" said Elinor, colouring a little, as she laughed at the inquiry. "I meant to say, that I had often sat still, without talking, at parties, because no one took the trouble to come and speak to me. Not here, at home, where everybody knows me, but at large parties in town, last winter."

"Oh, but you never cared about being a belle. Adeline says everybody knows you are engaged, and it is no matter what you do or say. But Adeline says, to be a belle, you must laugh and talk all the time, whether you feel like it or not; and she thinks you need not be particular what you talk about, only you must be all the time lively. The young men won't dance with you, or hand you in to supper, unless you entertain them. Adeline says she is too high-spirited to sit by, moping; and so am I, too, I'm sure!"

"But Jane, you are so very pretty, there is no danger of your being overlooked."

"No, indeed, you are mistaken," said Jane, with perfect naivete.

"I was at two or three small parties, you know, in New York, while I was staying with Mrs. Stanley, this spring; well, I missed more than half the quadrilles, while those fat Miss Grants, and the Howard girls, were dancing all the evening.

Adeline says it is all because I was not lively. They don't think anything of you unless you are all the time talking, and laughing, and moving about; and it does tire me so--I'm almost sick of it already. I'm sure I shall never be able to be lively at Charleston, in warm weather. I shan't be a belle, Elinor, I'm afraid!" said the young beauty, with something like a sigh.

"Poor Jane!" said Elinor, laughing, though she really felt provoked with Adeline for giving her cousin such notions; Jane looked half worn-out with the evening's exertions. "And I believed, all the time, that you were in such good spirits!

Charlie and I were looking at you with surprise; we thought Mr.

Van Horne, and John Bernard must be telling you something very amusing, you were laughing and talking so much."

"No, indeed; it was I, who was trying to amuse the gentlemen."

But Jane was not destined to try the effect of the Charleston climate upon the energies of a belle. Her parents arrived in New York, where she met them. She found letters there from her sister, Mrs. Robert Hazlehurst, to her mother and herself, strongly urging the propriety of Jane joining their party, for the last year of their European visit. Mrs. Hazlehurst thought travelling would be of great service to her sister, in every respect; it would, probably, restore her health entirety; in Paris she would take lessons from the best masters, if she wished it--besides enjoying the advantages of seeing the Old World; at the same time that, in her sister's family, she would be as well taken care of, as if at her father's house, or at Wyllys-Roof. It was an opportunity which might not occur again, and Mrs.

Hazlehurst wrote so urgently, that her parents consented to the arrangement, provided Jane, herself, liked the idea. An old friend of the family, Mrs. Howard, was to sail next month for France, and would willingly take charge of Mrs. Graham's daughter during the voyage: everything was settled, it only remained for Jane, herself, to decide. She was far less anxious, however, to see the wonders of Europe, than many other young persons would have been. Elinor congratulated her warmly upon her good fortune, and dwelt upon the pleasure she would, no doubt, enjoy; still, Jane appeared rather indifferent to the plan, and it would probably have been abandoned, had it not been for two circ.u.mstances. Her father thought the voyage and change of air might have a happy effect on her health, and improve it permanently; and, at the same time, Miss Adeline Taylor threw the whole weight of her influence into the scales; she had a long private interview with Jane, which seemed to decide the matter.

The arrangements were made, and the first of September, Jane, accompanied by her parents, Miss Agnes, and Elinor, went on board the Havre packet, and was placed under the care of Mr. and Mrs.

Howard. Though the separation took place under such happy auspices, there were some tears shed, of course. Elinor felt quite sad at parting from her young friend, to whom she was warmly attached; but time and tide soon separated the cousins, and the last farewell, and waving of handkerchiefs, were exchanged.