The bright searching eye of Mrs. Bloomfield was riveted on her young friend, as she advanced into the room; and her smile, usually so gay and sometimes ironical, was now thoughtful and kind.
"Well, Miss Effingham," she cried, in a manner that her looks contradicted, "am I to condole with you," or to congratulate?--For a more sudden, or miraculous change did I never before witness in a young lady, though whether it be for the better or the worse----These are ominous words, too--for "better or worse, for richer or poorer"----"
"You are in fine spirits this evening, my dear Mrs. Bloomfield, and appear to have entered into the gaieties of the Fun of Fire, with all your--"
"Might, will be a homely, but an expressive word. Your Templeton Fun of Fire is fiery fun, for it has cost us something like a general conflagration. Mrs. Hawker has been near a downfall, like your great namesake, by a serpent"s coming too near her dress; one barn, I hear, has actually been in a blaze, and Sir George Templemore"s heart is in cinders. Mr. John Effingham has been telling me that he should not have been a bachelor, had there been two Mrs. Bloomfields in the world, and Mr. Powis looks like a rafter dugout of Herculaneum, nothing but coal."
"And what occasions this pleasantry?" asked Eve, so composed in manner that her friend was momentarily deceived.
Mrs. Bloomfield took a seat on the sofa, by the side of our heroine, and regarding her steadily for near a minute, she continued--
"Hypocrisy and Eve Effingham can have little in common, and my ears must have deceived me."
"Your ears, dear Mrs. Bloomfield!"
"My ears, dear Miss Effingham. I very well know the character of an eaves-dropper, but if gentlemen will make pa.s.sionate declarations in the walk of a garden, with nothing but a little shrubbery between his ardent declarations and the curiosity of those who may happen to be pa.s.sing, they must expect to be overheard."
Eve"s colour had gradually increased as her friend proceeded; and when the other ceased speaking, as bright a bloom glowed on her countenance, as had shone there when she first entered the room.
"May I ask the meaning of all this?" she said, with an effort to appear calm.
"Certainly, my dear; and you shall also know the _feelings_ that prompt it, as well as the meaning," returned Mrs. Bloomfield, kindly taking Eve"s hand in a way to show that she did not mean to trifle further on a subject that was of so much moment to her young friend.
"Mr. John Effingham and myself were star-gazing at a point where two walks approach each other, just as you and Mr. Powis were pa.s.sing in the adjoining path. Without absolutely stepping our ears, it was quite impossible not to hear a portion of your conversation. We both tried to behave honourably; for I coughed, and your kinsman actually hemmed, but we were unheeded."
"Coughed and hemmed!" repeated Eve, in greater confusion than ever.
"There must be some mistake, dear Mrs. Bloomfield, as I remember to have heard no such signals."
"Quite likely, my love, for there was a time when I too had ears for only one voice; but you can have affidavits to the fact, _a la mode de New England_, if you require them. Do not mistake my motive, nevertheless, Miss Effingham, which is any thing but vulgar curiosity"--here Mrs. Bloomfield looked so kind and friendly, that Eve took both her hands and pressed them to her heart--"you are motherless; without even a single female connexion of a suitable age to consult with on such an occasion, and fathers after all are but men----"
"Mine is as kind, and delicate, and tender, as any woman can be, Mrs.
Bloomfield."
"I believe it all, though he may not be quite as quick-sighted, in an affair of this nature.--Am I at liberty to speak to you as if I were an elder sister?"
"Speak, Mrs. Bloomfield, as frankly as you please, but leave me the mistress of my answers."
"It is, then, as I suspected," said Mrs. Bloomfield, in a sort of musing manner; "the men have been won over, and this young creature has absolutely been left without a protector in the most important moment of her life!"
"Mrs. Bloomfield!--What does this mean?--What _can_ it mean?"
"It means merely general principles, child; that your father and cousin have been parties concerned, instead of vigilant sentinels; and, with all their pretended care, that you have been left to grope your way in the darkness of female uncertainty, with one of the most pleasing young men in the country constantly before you, to help the obscurity."
It is a dreadful moment, when we are taught to doubt the worth of those we love; and Eve became pale as death, as she listened to the words of her friend. Once before, on the occasion of Paul"s return to England, she had felt a pang of that sort, though reflection, and a calm revision of all his acts and words since they first met in Germany, had enabled her to get the better of indecision, and when she first saw him on the mountain, nearly every unpleasant apprehension and distrust had been dissipated by an effort of pure reason. His own explanations had cleared up the unpleasant affair, and, from that moment, she had regarded him altogether with the eyes of a confiding partiality. The speech of Mrs. Bloomfield now sounded like words of doom to her, and, for an instant, her friend was frightened with the effects of her own imperfect communication. Until that moment Mrs. Bloomfield had formed no just idea of the extent to which the feelings of Eve were interested in Paul, for she had but an imperfect knowledge of their early a.s.sociation in Europe, and she sincerely repented having introduced the subject at all. It was too late to retreat, however, and, first folding Eve in her arms, and kissing her cold forehead, she hastened to repair a part, at least, of the mischief she had done.
"My words have been too strong, I fear," she said, "but such is my general horror of the manner in which the young of our s.e.x, in this country, are abandoned to the schemes of the designing and selfish of the other, that I am, perhaps, too sensitive when I see any one that I love thus exposed. You are known, my dear, to be one of the richest heiresses of the country; and, I blush to say that no accounts of European society that we have, make fortune-hunting a more regular occupation there, than it has got to be here."
The paleness left Eve"s face, and a look of slight displeasure succeeded.
"Mr. Powis is no fortune-hunter, Mrs. Bloomfield," she said, steadily; "his whole conduct for three years has been opposed to such a character; and, then, though not absolutely rich, perhaps, he has a gentleman"s income, and is removed from the necessity of being reduced to such an act of baseness."
"I perceive my error, but it is now too late to retreat. I do not say that Mr. Powis is a fortune-hunter, but there are circ.u.mstances connected with his history, that you ought at least to know, and that immediately. I have chosen to speak to you, rather than to speak to your father, because I thought you might like a female confidant on such occasion, in preference even to your excellent natural protector. The idea of. Mrs. Hawker occurred to me, on account of her age; but I did not feel authorised to communicate to her a secret of which I had myself become so accidentally possessed,"
"I appreciate your motive fully, dearest Mrs. Bloomfield," said Eve, smiling with all her native sweetness, and greatly relieved, for she now began to think that too keen a sensitiveness on the subject of Paul had unnecessarily alarmed her, "and beg there may be no reserves between us. If you know a reason why Mr. Powis should not be received as a suitor, I entreat you to mention it."
"Is he Mr. Powis at all?"
Again Eve smiled, to Mrs. Bloomfield"s great, surprise, for, as the latter had put the question with sincere reluctance, she was astonished at the coolness with which it was received.
"He is not Mr. Powis, legally perhaps, though he might be, but that he dislikes the publicity of an application to the legislature. His paternal name is a.s.sheton."
"You know his history, then!"
"There has been no reserve on the part of Mr. Powis; least of all, any deception."
Mrs. Bloomfield appeared perplexed, even distressed; and there was a brief s.p.a.ce, during which her mind was undecided as to the course she ought to take. That she had committed an error by attempting a consultation, in a matter of the heart, with one of her own s.e.x, after the affections were engaged, she discovered when it was too late; but she prized Eve"s friendship too much, and had too just a sense of what was due to herself, to leave the affair where it was, or without clearing up her own unasked agency in it.
"I rejoice to learn this," she said, as soon as her doubts had ended, "for frankness, while it is one of the safest, is one of the most beautiful traits in human character; but beautiful though it be, it is one that the other s.e.x uses least to our own."
"Is our own too ready to use it to the other?"
"Perhaps not: it might be better for both parties, were there less deception practised during the period of courtship, generally: but as this is hopeless, and might, destroy some of the most pleasing illusions of life, we will not enter into a treatise on the frauds of Cupid, Now to my own confessions, which I make all the more willingly, because I know they are uttered to the ear of one of a forgiving temperament, and who is disposed to view even my follies favourably."
The kind but painful smile of Eve, a.s.sured the speaker she was not mistaken, and she continued, after taking time to read the expression of the countenance of her young friend--
"In common with all of New-York, that town of babbling misses, who prattle as water flows, without consciousness or effort, and of whiskered masters, who fancy Broadway the world, and the flirtations of miniature drawing-rooms, human nature, I believed, on your return from Europe, that an accepted suitor followed in your train, in the person of Sir George Templemore."
"Nothing in my deportment, or in that of Sir George, or in that of any of my family, could justly have given rise to such a notion,"
said Eve, quickly.
"Justly! What has justice, or truth, or even probability, to do with a report, of which love and matrimony are the themes? Do you not know _society_ better than to fancy this improbability, child?"
"I know that our own s.e.x would better consult their own dignity and respectability, my dear Mrs. Bloomfield, if they talked less of such matters; and that they would be more apt to acquire the habits of good taste, not to say of good principles, if they confined their strictures more to things and sentiments than they do, and meddled less with persons."
"And pray, is there no t.i.ttle-tattle, no scandal, no commenting on one"s neighbours, in other civilized nations besides this?"
"Unquestionably; though I believe, as a rule, it is every where thought to be inherently vulgar, and a proof of low a.s.sociations."
"In that, we are perfectly of a mind; for, if there be any thing that betrays a consciousness of inferiority, it is our rendering others of so much obvious importance to ourselves, as to make them the subjects of our constant conversation. We may speak of virtues, for therein we pay an homage to that which is good; but when we come to dwell on personal faults, it is rather a proof that we have a silent conviction of the superiority of the subject of our comments to ourselves, either in character, talents, social position, or something else that is deemed essential, than of our distaste for his failings. Who, for instance, talks scandal of his grocer, or of his shoemaker? No, no, our pride forbids this; we always make our betters the subject of our strictures by preference, taking up with our equals only when we can get none of a higher cla.s.s."
"This quite reconciles me to having been given to Sir George Templemore, by the world of New-York," said Eve, smiling.
"And well it may, for they who have prattled of your engagement, have done so princ.i.p.ally because they are incapable of maintaining a conversation on any thing else. But, all this time, I fear I stand accused in your mind, of having given advice unasked, and of feeling an alarm in an affair that affected others, instead of myself, which is the very sin that we lay at the door of our worthy Manhattanese.
In common with all around me, then, I fancied Sir George Templemore an accepted lover, and, by habit, had gotten to a.s.sociate you together in my pictures. Oh my arrival here, however, I will confess that Mr. Powis, whom, you will remember, I had never seen before, struck me as much the most dangerous man.--Shall I own all my absurdity?"
"Even to the smallest shade."
"Well, then, I confess to having supposed that, while the excellent father believed you were in a fair way to become Lady Templemore, the equally excellent daughter thought the other suitor, infinitely the most agreeable person."