"I"m sure their father, Mr. Clayton, is nothing but a teacher."
"Mr. Clayton! Surely those are not Clayton"s daughters!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mrs. Marygold, in surprise.
"They certainly are ma"am," replied Mrs. Florence in a quiet but firm voice, for she instantly perceived, from something in Mrs.
Marygold"s voice and manner, the reason why her friend had alluded to them as common people.
"Well, really, I am surprised that Mrs. Harwood should have invited them to her house, and introduced them into genteel company."
"Why so, Mrs. Marygold?"
"Because, as Mrs. Lemmington has just said, they are common people.
Their father is nothing but a schoolmaster."
"If I have observed them rightly," Mrs. Florence said to this, "I have discovered them to be a rather uncommon kind of people. Almost any one can thrum on the piano; but you will not find one in a hundred who can perform with such exquisite grace and feeling as they can. For half an hour this evening I sat charmed with their conversation, and really instructed and elevated by the sentiments they uttered. I cannot say as much for any other young ladies in the room, for there are none others here above the common run of ordinarily intelligent girls--none who may not really be cla.s.sed with common people in the true acceptation of the term."
"And take them all in all," added Mrs. Lemmington with warmth, "you will find nothing common about them. Look at their dress; see how perfect in neatness, in adaptation of colors and arrangement to complexion and shape, is every thing about them. Perhaps there will not be found a single young lady in the room, besides them, whose dress does not show something not in keeping with good taste. Take their manners. Are they not graceful, gentle, and yet full of nature"s own expression. In a word, is there any thing about them that is "common?""
"Nothing that my eye has detected," replied Mrs. Florence.
"Except their origin," half-sneeringly rejoined Mrs. Marygold.
"They were born of woman," was the grave remark. "Can any of us boast a higher origin?"
"There are various ranks among women," Mrs. Marygold said, firmly.
"True. But, "The rank is but the guinea"s stamp, The man"s the gold for a" that."
"Mere position in society does not make any of us more or less a true woman. I could name you over a dozen or more in my circle of acquaintance, who move in what is called the highest rank; who, in all that truly const.i.tutes a woman, are incomparably below Mrs.
Clayton; who, if thrown with her among perfect strangers, would be instantly eclipsed. Come then, Mrs. Marygold, lay aside all these false standards, and estimate woman more justly. Let me, to begin, introduce both yourself and Melinda to the young ladies this evening. You will be charmed with them, I know, and equally charmed with their mother when you know her."
"No, ma"am," replied Mrs. Marygold, drawing herself up with a dignified air. "I have no wish to cultivate their acquaintance, or the acquaintance of any persons in their station. I am surprised that Mrs. Harwood has not had more consideration for her friends than to compel them to come in contact with such people."
No reply was made to this; and the next remark of Mrs. Florence was about some matter of general interest.
"Henry Florence has not been here for a week," said Mrs. Marygold to her daughter Melinda, some two months after the period at which the conversation just noted occurred.
"No; and he used to come almost every evening," was Melinda"s reply, made in a tone that expressed disappointment.
"I wonder what can be the reason?" Mrs. Marygold said, half aloud, half to herself, but with evident feelings of concern. The reason of her concern and Melinda"s disappointment arose from the fact that both had felt pretty sure of securing Henry Florence as a member of the Marygold family--such connection, from his standing in society, being especially desirable.
At the very time the young man was thus alluded to by Mrs. Marygold and her daughter, he sat conversing with his mother upon a subject that seemed, from the expression of his countenance, to be of much interest to him.
"So you do not feel inclined to favor any preference on my part towards Miss Marygold?" he said, looking steadily into his mother"s face.
"I do not, Henry," was the frank reply.
"Why not?"
"There is something too common about her, if I may so express myself."
"Too common! What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that there is no distinctive character about her. She is, like the large ma.s.s around us, a mere made-up girl."
"Speaking in riddles."
"I mean then, Henry, that her character has been formed, or made up, by mere external accretions from the common-place, vague, and often too false notions of things that prevail in society, instead of by the force of sound internal principles, seen to be true from a rational intuition, and acted upon because they are true. Cannot you perceive the difference?"
"O yes, plainly. And this is why you use the word "common," in speaking of her?"
"The reason. And now my son, can you not see that there is force in my objection to her--that she really possess any character distinctively her own, that is founded upon a clear and rational appreciation of abstractly correct principles of action?"
"I cannot say that I differ from you very widely," the young man said, thoughtfully. "But, if you call Melinda "common," where shall I go to find one who may be called "uncommon?""
"I can point you to one."
"Say on."
"You have met f.a.n.n.y Clayton?"
"f.a.n.n.y Clayton!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the young man, taken by surprise, the blood rising to his face. "O yes, I have met her."
"She is no common girl, Henry," Mrs. Florence said, in a serious voice. "She has not her equal in my circle of acquaintances."
"Nor in mine either," replied the young man, recovering himself.
"But you would not feel satisfied to have your son address Miss Clayton?"
"And why not, pray? Henry, I have never met with a young lady whom I would rather see your wife than f.a.n.n.y Clayton."
"And I," rejoined the young man with equal warmth, "never met with any one whom I could truly love until I saw her sweet young face."
"Then never think again of one like Melinda Marygold. You could not be rationally happy with her."
Five or six months rolled away, during a large portion of which time the fact that Henry Florence was addressing f.a.n.n.y Clayton formed a theme for pretty free comment in various quarters. Most of Henry"s acquaintance heartily approved his choice; but Mrs. Marygold, and a few like her, all with daughters of the "common" cla.s.s, were deeply incensed at the idea of a "common kind of a girl" like Miss Clayton being forced into genteel society, a consequence that would of course follow her marriage. Mrs. Marygold hesitated not to declare that for her part, let others do as they liked, she was not going to a.s.sociate with her--that was settled. She had too much regard to what was due to her station in life. As for Melinda, she had no very kind feelings for her successful rival--and such a rival too! A mere schoolmaster"s daughter! And she hesitated not to speak of her often and in no very courteous terms.
When the notes of invitation to the wedding at length came, which ceremony was to be performed in the house of Mr. Clayton, in Sycamore Row, Mrs. Marygold declared that to send her an invitation to go to such a place was a downright insult. As the time, however, drew near, and she found that Mrs. Harwood and a dozen others equally respectable in her eyes were going to the wedding, she managed to smother her indignation so far as, at length, to make up her mind to be present at the nuptial ceremonies. But it was not until her ears were almost stunned by the repeated and earnestly expressed congratulations to Mrs. Florence at the admirable choice made by her son, and that too by those whose tastes and opinions she dared not dispute, that she could perceive any thing even pa.s.sable in the beautiful young bride.
Gradually, however, as the younger Mrs. Florence, in the process of time, took her true position in the social circle, even Mrs.
Marygold could begin to perceive the intrinsic excellence of her character, although even this was more a tacit a.s.sent to a universal opinion than a discovery of her own.
As for Melinda, she was married about a year after f.a.n.n.y Clayton"s wedding, to a sprig of gentility with about as much force of character as herself. This took place on the same night that Lieut.
Harwood, son of Mrs. Harwood before alluded to, led to the altar Mary Clayton, the sister of f.a.n.n.y, who was conceded by all, to be the loveliest girl they had ever seen--lovely, not only in face and form, but loveliness itself in the sweet perfections of moral beauty. As for Lieut. Harwood, he was worthy of the heart he had won.
MAKING A SENSATION.