Lessons in Life, for All Who Will Read Them Part 26

"Ah!"

"Who was there?" asked Emeline.

The tone in which this was spoken caused Mr. Erskine to turn and look somewhat closely into the young lady's face, to mark its expression.

She had never appeared less lovely in his eyes.

"Not a great many," he replied.

"I suppose not," said Mrs. Minturn.

"It was a select party," remarked the young man.

"And select enough, no doubt, you found it."

"You speak truly. I have never been in one more so," replied Erskine.

"You have not answered my question as to who were there," said Emeline.

"Young ladies, do you mean?"

"Yes, young ladies."

"Do you know Miss B--?"

"I have no particular acquaintance with her. But she was not there!"

"Oh, yes, she was. And so was her father, General B--."

"You astonish me!" said Mrs. Minturn. "Certainly you are in error."

"I believe not. I had a good deal of interesting conversation with General B--, who is well acquainted with my father."

"Who else was there?"

"Senator Y--, and his beautiful niece, who created such a sensation in Washington last winter. She and Miss Allender, who is, it strikes me, a charming girl, seemed delighted with each other, and were side by side most of the evening. They sang together many times with exquisite effect. Then there were Mr. and Mrs. T--, Mr. and Mrs. R--, Miss Julia S--, and Miss G--."

All these belonged to a circle yet above that in which the Minturns had moved.

"I am astonished," said Mrs. Minturn, but poorly concealing her mortification. "I had no idea that the Allenders kept such company. How did you happen to be invited?"

"Mr. Allender is one of my father's oldest and most valued friends. I called at his desire, and found both him and his family far above the 'common run' of people. I do not in the least wonder at the cla.s.s of persons I met at their house. I am sorry that you have been led so far astray in your estimation of their characters. You never could have known them well."

"Perhaps not," said Mrs. Minturn, in a subdued voice. "Did you hear us asked for?" she ventured to add. "We were invited, as I mentioned, and would have gone, but didn't expect to find any there with whom it would be agreeable to a.s.sociate."

This remark did not in the least improve the matter in the eyes of Mr.

Erskine, who now understood the Minturns rather better than before. A feeling of repugnance took the place of his former friendly sentiments; and in a briefer time than he had intended, he brought his visit to a close, and bade them good morning.

What was now to be done? The Minturns had fallen into an error, which must, if possible, be repaired. The Allenders were of far more consequence than they had believed, and their estimation of them rose correspondingly. A note of regret at not being able to attend the party, in consequence of a previous engagement, was written, and this enclosed in another note, stating that in consequence of the neglect of a servant, it had not been delivered on the day before. Both were despatched within half an hour after Mr. Erskine left the house.

On the day after, Mrs. Minturn and her daughter called at Mrs.

Allender's, and offered verbal regrets at not having been able to attend the party.

"We wanted to come very much, but both Emeline and I were so much indisposed, that the doctor said we mustn't think of going out,"--forgetting at the moment the tenor of the note she had written only the day before. But scarcely were the words out of her mouth, when a glance of uneasy surprise from Emeline brought a recollection of this fact, and caused the blood to mount to her face.

A sudden change in the manner of Mrs. Allender was conclusive evidence that she, too, was laying side by side the two conflicting statements.

"But even," added Mrs. Minturn, in a voice that betrayed some disturbance of mind, "if we had not been indisposed, a previously made engagement would have been in the way of a pleasure that we shall always regret having lost. You had a highly select party, I understood."

"Only a few old and much esteemed friends, that we invited to meet a gentleman who was pa.s.sing through the city, whose father and Mr.

Allender are old acquaintances."

"The Hon. Mr. Erskine, you mean," said Mrs. Minturn, whose vanity led her to betray herself still more.

"Yes. Have you met him?"

"Oh, yes," was replied with animation. "We were very intimate at Washington. He showed Emeline very particular attentions."

"Ah! I was not aware that you knew him."

"Intimately. He called to see us yesterday, on the eve of his departure for New York."

"Oh, mother!" exclaimed Emeline, as soon as they had stepped beyond the street-door, on leaving the house of Mrs. Allender, "why did you say any thing at all about Mr. Erskine, and especially after blundering so in the matter of apology? She'll see through it all, as clear as daylight. And won't we look beautiful in her eyes? I'm mortified to death!"

"I don't know what came over me," returned the mother, with evident chagrin. "To think that I should have been so beside myself!"

So much mortified were both the mother and daughter, on reflection, that they could not venture to call again upon Mrs. Allender and Clara, who did not return the last visit. And the intimacy from that time was broken off.

The next winter came round, and the Minturns repaired again to Washington. Emeline had hoped to receive a letter from Mr. Erskine, whom she half believed to be in love with her; but no such desired communication came. But she would meet him at the Capitol; and to that time of meeting she looked forward with feelings of the liveliest interest. On arriving in Washington, at the opening of the session, she repaired, on the first day, to the Capitol. But much to her disappointment, a certain member from New York was not in his place.

"Where is Mr. Erskine," she asked of his colleague, whom she met in the evening.

"Has not arrived yet," was replied. "Will probably be along to-morrow or next day. He stopped in your city as he came along; and I shrewdly suspect that he had in contemplation a very desperate act."

"Indeed! What was that?" returned Emeline, endeavouring to appear unconcerned.

"Taking to himself a wife."

"You surprise me," said the young lady. "Who is the bride?"

"I don't know. He said nothing to me on that subject. Others, who appear to be in the secret, aver that his detention is occasioned by the cause I have alleged."

It required a strong effort on the part of Miss Minturn to keep from betraying the painful shock her feelings had sustained. She changed the subject as quickly as possible.

On the next day, it was whispered about that Mr. Erskine had arrived in company with his newly-made bride.

"Who is she?" asked both Mrs. Minturn and her daughter; but no one to whom they applied happened to know. Those who had seen her p.r.o.nounced her very beautiful. Two days pa.s.sed, and then a bridal party was given, to which Mrs. Minturn and Emeline were invited. They had been sitting in the midst of a large company for about ten minutes, their hearts in a flutter of antic.i.p.ation, when there was a slight movement at the door, and then Mr. Erskine entered with his bride upon his arm. One glance sufficed for Mrs. Minturn and her daughter--it was Clara! While others were pressing forward to greet the lovely bride, they, overcome with disappointment, and oppressed by mortification, retired from the room, and, ordering their carriage, left the house un.o.bserved.

Up to this day, they have never sought to renew the acquaintance.