Elsie's Girlhood

by Martha Finley

  CHAPTER XIV.

  Your noblest natures are most credulous.

  --CHAPMAN.

  Bromly Egerton (we give him the name by which he had become known toour friends in Lansdale) considered it "a very lucky chance" thathad provided him a boarding-place so near the temporary home of hisintended victim. He felicitated himself greatly upon it, and lost notime in improving to the utmost all the advantages it conferred.It soon came to be a customary thing for him to drop in at MissStanhope's every day, or two or three times a day, and to join theyoung girls in their walks and drives, for, though at first payingcourt to no one but the mistress of the mansion, he gradually turnedhis attention more and more to her niece and Miss King.

  As their ages were so much nearer his this seemed perfectly natural,and excited no suspicion or remark. Aunt Wealthy was quite willing toresign him to them; for--a very child in innocent trustfulness--shehad no thought of any evil design on the part of the handsome,attractive young stranger so warmly recommended to her kindness andhospitality by an old and valued friend, and only rejoiced to see theyoung folks enjoying themselves so much together.

  Before leaving Lansdale Mr. Dinsmore had provided his daughter with agentle, but spirited and beautiful little pony, and bade her ride outevery day when the weather was favorable, as was her custom at home.At the same time he cautioned her never to go alone; but always tohave Simon riding in her rear, and, if possible, a lady friend at herside.

  Dr. King was not wealthy, and having a large family to provide for,kept no horse except the one he used in his practice; but Elsie, withher well-filled purse, was more than content to furnish ponies forher friends Lottie and Nettie whenever they could accompany her; andmatters were so arranged by their indulgent mother that one or bothcould do so every day.

  It was not long before Mr. Egerton joined them in these excursionsalso, having made an arrangement with a livery-stable keeper for thedaily use of a horse. And gradually his attention, in the beginningabout equally divided between the two, or the three, were paid moreand more exclusively to Elsie.

  She was not pleased with him in their earlier interviews, she couldscarcely have told why; but there was an intuitive feeling that he wasnot one to be trusted. That, however, gradually gave way under thefascinations of his fine person, agreeable manners, and intellectualconversation. He was very plausible and captivating, she full ofcharity and ready to believe the best of everybody, and so, little bylittle, he won her confidence and esteem so completely that at lengthshe had almost forgotten that her first impression had not beenfavorable.

  He went regularly to the church she, her aunt, and the Kings attended,appearing an interested listener, and devout worshipper; and that noton the Sabbath only, but also at the regular weekday evening service;he seemed also to choose his associates among good, Christian people.The natural inference from all this was that he too was a Christian,or at least a professor of religion; and thus all our friends sooncame to look upon him as such, and to feel the greater friendship for,and confidence in him.

  He found that Elsie's beauty would bear the closest scrutiny, that hergraces of person and mind were the more apparent the more thoroughlyshe was known; that she was highly educated and accomplished,possessed of a keen intellect, and talents of no common order, and awonderful sweetness of disposition. He acknowledged to himself that,even leaving money out of the question, she was a prize any man mightcovet; yet that if she were poor, he would never try to win her. Amore voluptuous woman would have suited him better. Elsie's verypurity made her distasteful to him, his own character seeming so muchblackened by contrast that at times he could but loathe and despisehimself.

  But her fortune was an irresistible attraction, and he resolved morefirmly than ever to leave no stone unturned to make himself master ofit.

  He soon perceived that he had many rivals, but he possessed oneadvantage over them all in his entire leisure from business, leavinghim at liberty to devote himself to her entertainment during the dayas well as the evening.

  For a while he greatly feared that he had a more dangerous rival at adistance; for, watching from his windows, he saw that every morningSimon brought one or more letters from the post, and that Elsie wasusually on the front porch awaiting his coming; that she would oftencome flying across the lawn, meet her messenger at the gate, andsnatching her letter with eager, joyful haste, rush back to the housewith it, and disappear within the doorway. Then frequently he wouldsee her half an hour later looking so rosy and happy, that he couldhardly hope her correspondent was other than an accepted lover.

  For weeks he tormented himself with this idea; the more convinced thathe was right in his conjecture, because she almost always posted herreply with her own hands, when going out for her daily walk, or sentit by her faithful Chloe; but one day, venturing a jest upon thesubject, she answered him, with a merry laugh, "Ah, you are noYankee, Mr. Egerton, to make such a guess as that! I have a number ofcorrespondents, it is true; but the daily letter I am so eager forcomes from my father."

  "Is it possible, Miss Dinsmore! do you really receive and answer aletter from your father every day?"

  "We write every day, and each receives a letter from the other everyday but Sunday; on that day we never go or send to the post-office;and we write only on such subjects as are suited to the sacredness ofits Sabbath rest. I give papa the text and a synopsis of the sermon Ihave heard, and he does the same by me."

  "You must be extremely strict Sabbath-keepers."

  "We are, but not more so than the Bible teaches that we should be."

  "But isn't it very irksome? don't you find the day very long andtedious?"

  "Not at all; I think no other day in the week is quite so short to me,none, I am sure, so delightful."

  "Then it isn't only because your aunt is strict too, that you go onkeeping your father's rules, while you are at a safe distance fromhim?" he queried in a half jesting tone.

  Elsie turned her soft eyes full upon him, as she answered with gentlegravity: "I feel that the commands of both my earthly and my heavenlyFather are binding upon me at all times, and in all places, and I hopeI may ever be kept from becoming an eye-servant. Love makes it easy toobey, and God's commands are not grievous to those who love him."

  "I beg your pardon," he said; "but to go back to the letters, howcan you fill one every day to your father? I can imagine that loversmight, in writing to each other, but fathers and daughters would notbe apt to indulge in that sort of nonsense."

  "But Mr. Dinsmore and Elsie are no common father and daughter,"remarked Lottie, who had not spoken for the last ten minutes.

  "And can find plenty to say to each other," added Elsie, with a brightlook and smile. "Papa likes to hear just how I am spending my time,what I see in my walks, what new plants and flowers I find, etc.,etc.; what new acquaintances I make, what books I am reading, and whatI think of them."

  "The latter or the former?" he asked, resuming his jesting tone.

  "Both. And I tell him almost everything. Papa is my confidant; more sothan any other person in the world."

  They were returning from a walk over the hills, and had just reachedMiss Stanhope's gate. Mr. Egerton opened it for the ladies, closedit after them, bowed a good-morning and retired, wondering if he wasmentioned in those letters to Mr. Dinsmore, and cautioning himselfto be exceeding careful not to say or do a single thing which, ifreported there, might be taken as a warning of danger to the heiress.

  The girls ran into Miss Wealthy's room, and found her lamenting over awhite muslin apron.

  "What is it, auntie?" Elsie asked.

  "Why, just look here, child, what a hole I have made in this! It hadgot an ink-stain on it, and Phillis had put one of Harry's new shirtsinto a tin basin, and iron-rusted it; so I thought I would try somecitric acid on them both; and I did; but probably made it too strong,and this is how it served the apron."

  "And the shirt?" asked Lottie, interested for the garment she hadhelped to make.

  "Well, it
's a comfort I handled it very gingerly, and it seems to besound yet, after I saw what this has come to."

  "It is quite a pity about the apron; for it really is a very prettyone," said Elsie, "the acid must have been very strong."

  "Yes, and I am sorry to have the apron ruined, but after all, I shallnot care so very much, if it only doesn't eat Harry's tail off, and itwill make a little one for some child."

  Both girls laughed. It was impossible to resist the inclination to doso.

  "The shirt's tail I mean, of course, and a little apron," said MissWealthy, joining in the mirth; "that's where the spots all happen tobe, which is a comfort in case a piece should have to be set in."

  "There comes Lenwilla Ellawea; for some more light'ning, I suppose, asI see she carries a teacup in her hand," whispered Lottie,glancing from the window, as a step sounded upon the gravel walk."Good-morning, little sixpence; what are you after now?" she addedaloud, as the child appeared in the open doorway.

  "Mother's out o' vinegar, and dinner's just ready, and thegentleman'll want some for his salad, and there aint no time to sendto the grocery. And mother says, will you lend her a teacupful, AuntWealthy? And she's goin' to have some folks there to-night, and shesays you're all to come over."

  "Tell her we're obliged, and she's welcome to the vinegar," said MissStanhope, taking the cup and giving it to Chloe to fill. "But whatsort of company is it to be?"

  "I dunno; ladies and gentlemen, but no married folks, I heard her say.She's goin' to have nuts, and candies, and things to hand round, andyou'd better come. I hope that pretty lady will," in a stage whisper,bending toward Miss Stanhope, as she spoke, and nodding at Elsie.

  All three laughed.

  "Well, I'll try to coax her," said Aunt Wealthy, as Chloe re-enteredthe room. "And here's your vinegar. You'd better hurry home with it."

  "Aunt Wealthy, you can't want me to go there!" cried Elsie, as thechild passed out of hearing. "Why, the woman is not a lady, and I amsure papa would be very unwilling to have me make an associate of her.He is very particular about such matters."

  "She is not educated or very refined, it is true, my child; and I mustacknowledge is a little silly, too; but she is a clever, kind-heartedwoman, a member of the same church with myself, and a near neighborwhom I should feel sorry to hurt; and I am sure she would be much hurtif you should stay away, and deeply gratified by your attendance ather little party."

  "I wouldn't miss it for anything!" cried Lottie, pirouetting about theroom, laughing and clapping her hands; "she has such comical ways oftalking and acting. I know it will be real fun. You won't think ofstaying away, Elsie?"

  "I really do not believe your father would object, if he were here, mychild," added Miss Stanhope, laying her hand on her niece's shoulderand looking at her with a kindly persuasive smile.

  "Perhaps not, auntie; and he bade me obey you in his absence; so ifyou bid me, I will go," Elsie answered, returning the smile, andtouching her ruby lips to the faded cheek.

  "That's a dear," cried Lottie. "Hold her to her word, Aunt Wealthy.And now I must run home, and see if Nettie's had an invite, and whatshe's going to wear."

  The ladies were just leaving the dinner-table, when Mrs. Schillingcame rushing in. "Oh, excuse my informality in not waiting to ring,Miss Stanhope; but I'm in the biggest kind of a hurry. I've just putup my mind to make some sponge-cake for to-night, and I thought I'dbest run over and get your prescription; you always have so muchbetter luck than me. I don't know whether it's all in the luck though,or whether it's partly the difference in prescriptions--I know somefollows one, and some another--and so, if you'll let me have yours,I'll be a thousand times obliged."

  "Certainly, Mrs. Sixpence, you'll be as many times welcome," returnedAunt Wealthy, going for her receipt-book. "It's not to be a largeparty, is it?" she asked, coming back.

  "No, ma'am, just a dozen or so of the young folks; such ladies andgentlemen which I thought would be agreeable to meet Miss Dinsmore. Ihope you'll both be over and bright and early too; for I've heard sayyou don't never keep very late hours, Miss Dinsmore."

  "No, papa does not approve of them; not for me at least. He is socareful of me, so anxious that I should keep my health."

  "Well, I'm sure that's all right and kind. But you'll come, bothof you, won't you?" And receiving an assurance that such was theirintention, she hurried away as fast as she had come.

  "I wonder she cares to make a party when she must do all the work ofpreparing for it herself," said Elsie, looking after her as she spedacross the lawn.

  "She is strong and healthy, and used to work; and doubtless feelsthat it will be some honor and glory to be able to boast of havingentertained the Southern heiress who is visiting Lansdale," MissStanhope answered in a half-jesting tone.

  Elsie looked amused, then grave, as she replied: "It is ratherhumbling to one's pride to be valued merely or principally on accountof one's wealth."

  "Yes; but, dearie, those who know you don't value you for that, butfor your own dear, lovable self. My darling, your old aunt is growingvery fond of you, and can hardly bear to think how soon your fatherwill be coming to carry you away again," she added, twinkling away atear, as she took the soft, white hand, and pressed it affectionatelyin both her own.

  "And I shall be so sorry to leave you, auntie. I wish we could carryyou away with us. I have so often thought how happy my friend LucyCarrington ought to be in having such a nice grandma. I have neverhad one, you know; for papa's stepmother would never own me for hergrandchild; but you seem to be the very one I have always longed for."

  "Thank you, dear," and Miss Stanhope sighed, slightly. "Had your owngrandmother, my sweet and dear sister Eva, been spared to this time,you would have had one to love and be proud of. Now, do you want totake a siesta? you must feel tired after this morning's long tramp,I should think, and I want you to be very bright and fresh to-night,that it may not harm you if you should happen to be kept up a littlelater than usual. You see I want to take such care of you, that whenyour father comes he can see only improvement in you, and feel willingto let me have you again some day."

  "Thank you, you dear old auntie!" Elsie answered, giving her a hug."I'm sure even he could hardly be more kindly careful of me than youare. But I am not very tired, and sitting in an easy-chair will giveme all the rest I need. Haven't you some work for me? I've donenothing but enjoy myself in the most idle fashion all day."

  "No, my sewing's all done now that the shirts are finished. But I mustlie down whether you will or not. I can't do without my afternoonnap."

  "Yes, do, auntie; and I shall begin to-morrow's letter to papa;finishing it in the morning with an account of the party."

  She was busy with her writing when Lottie burst in upon her.

  "I ran in," she said, "to propose that we all go over there together,and to ask you to come into our house when you're dressed. Nettie andI are going to try a new style of doing up our hair, and we want youropinion about its becomingness."

  "I'll be happy to give it for what it is worth."

  "By the way, I admire your style extremely; but of course no one couldimitate it who was not blessed with a heavy suit of natural curls. Youalways wear it one way, don't you?"

  "Yes, papa likes it so, but until within the last year, he would notlet me have it in a comb at all."

  She wore it now gathered into a loose knot behind, and falling overa comb, in a rich mass of shining curls, while in front it waved andrippled above her white forehead, or fell over it, in soft, tiny,golden brown rings.

  "It is so beautiful!" continued Lottie, passing her hand caressinglyover it; "and so is its wearer. Oh, if I were only a gentleman!"

  "You don't wish it," said Elsie, laughing. "I don't believe a real,womanly woman ever does."

  "You don't, hey? Well, I must go; for I've a lot to do to Lot King'swearing apparel. Adieu, mon cher. Nay, don't disturb yourself to cometo the door."

  Elsie came down to tea ready dressed for the evening, in simple white,w
ith a white rose in her hair.

  "I like your taste in dress, child," said Aunt Wealthy, regarding herwith affectionate admiration. "The rose in your hair is lovely, andyou seem to me like a fresh, fair, sweet flower, yourself."

  "Ah, how pleasant it is to be loved, auntie, for love always seesthrough rose-colored spectacles," answered the young girl gayly.

  "I promised Lottie to run in there for a moment to give my opinionabout their appearance," she said, as they rose from the table. "I'llnot be gone long; and they're to come in and go with us."

  She found her friends in the midst of their hair-dressing.

  "Isn't it a bore?" cried Lottie. "How fortunate you are in neverhaving to do this for yourself."

  "Why," said Elsie, "I was just admiring your independence, and feelingashamed of my own helplessness."

  "Did you ever try it," asked Nettie; "doing your own hair, I mean?"

  "No, never."

  "Did you ever dress yourself?"

  "No, I own that I have never so much as put on my own shoes andstockings," Elsie answered with a blush, really mortified at thethought.

  "Well, it is rather nice to be able to help yourself," remarked Lottiecomplacently. "There! mine's done; what do you think of it, MissDinsmore?"

  "That it is very pretty and extremely becoming. Girls, mammy willdress your hair for you at any time, if you wish."

  "Oh, a thousand thanks!" exclaimed Nettie. "Do you think she would bewilling to come over and do mine now? I really can't get it to suitme, and I know Lot wants to put on her dress."

  "Yes, I'll go back and send her."

  "Oh, no; don't go yet; can't we send for her?"

  "That would do; but I told Aunt Wealthy I wouldn't stay long; so Ithink I'd better go. Perhaps I can be of use to her."

  "I don't believe she'll need any help with her toilet," said Lottie,"she does it all her own way; but I daresay she grudges every minuteof your company. I know I should. Isn't she sweet and lovely, and goodas she can be?" she added to her sister as Elsie left the room.

  "Yes, and how tastefully she dresses; everything is rich andbeautiful, yet so simply elegant; what magnificent lace she wears, andwhat jewelry; yet not a bit too much of either."

  "And she knows all about harmony of colors, and what suits her style;though I believe she would look well in anything."

  There was a communicating gate between Dr. King's grounds and MissStanhope's, and Elsie gained her aunt's house by crossing the twogardens. As she stepped upon the porch, she saw Mr. Egerton standingbefore the door.

  "Good-evening, Miss Dinsmore," he said, bowing and smiling. "I wasjust about to ring; but I presume that is not necessary now."

  "No, not at all. Walk into the parlor, and help yourself to a seat.And if you will please excuse me I shall be there in a moment."

  "I came to ask if I might have the pleasure of escorting you to theparty," he said laughingly, as she returned from giving Chloe herdirections, and asking if her aunt needed any assistance.

  "Thank you; but you are taking unnecessary trouble," she answeredgayly, "since it is only across the street, and there are four of usto keep each other company."

  "The Misses King are going with you?"

  "Yes; they are not quite ready yet; but it is surely too early tothink of going?"

  "A little; but Mrs. Schilling is anxious to see you as soon aspossible; particularly as she understands there is no hope of keepingyou after ten o'clock. Do you really always observe such early hours?"

  "As a rule, yes. I believe the medical authorities agree that it isthe way to retain one's youth and health."

  "And beauty," he added, with an admiring glance at her blooming face.

  * * * * *

  "I do believe we shall be almost the first; very unfashionably early,"remarked Nettie King, as their little party crossed the street.

  "We are not the first, I have seen several go in," rejoined AuntWealthy, as Mr. Egerton held open the gate for them to pass in.

  Mrs. Schilling in gay attire, streamers flying, cheeks glowing, andeyes beaming with delight, met them at the door, and invited them toenter.

  "Oh, ladies, good-evening. How do you all do? I'm powerful glad youcame so early. Walk right into the parlor."

  She ushered them in as she spoke. Four or five young misses werestanding about the centre-table, looking at prints, magazines, andphotographs, while Lenwilla Ellawea, arrayed in her Sunday best, hadensconced herself in a large cushioned rocking-chair; she was leaninglazily back in it, and stretching out her feet in a way to show hershoes and stockings to full advantage. Mrs. Schilling had singulartaste in dress. The child wore a Swiss muslin over a red flannelskirt, and her lower limbs were encased in black stockings and blueshoes.

  "Daughter Lenwilla Ellawea, subside that chair!" exclaimed the mother,with a wave of her hand. "You should know better than to take the bestseat, when ladies are standing. Miss Stanhope, do me the honor to takethat chair. I assure you, you will find it most commodious. Take aseat on the sofy, Miss Dinsmore, and--ah, that is right, Mr. Egerton,you know how to attend to the ladies."

  Greetings and introductions were exchanged; an uncomfortable pausefollowed, then a young lady, with a magazine open on the table beforeher, broke the silence by remarking: "What sweet verses these are!"

  "Yes," said Mrs. Schilling, looking over her shoulder, "I quite agreein that sentiment. Indeed, she's my favorite author."

  "Who?" asked Mr. Egerton.

  "Anon."

  "Ah! does she write much for that periodical?" he asked, with assumedgravity.

  "Oh, yes, she has a piece in nearly every number; sometimes two of'em."

  "That's my pap, that is," said Lenwilla Ellawea, addressing a secondyoung lady, who was slowly turning the leaves of a photograph album.

  "Is it?"

  "Yes, and we've got two or three other picters of him."

  "Photographs, Lenwilla Ellawea," corrected her mother. "Yes, we've gotseveral. Miss Stanhope, do you know there's a sculpture in town? andwhat do you think? He wants to make a basque relief out o' one o' themphotographs of my 'Lijah. But I don't know as I'll let him. Wouldyou?"

  A smile trembled about the corners of Elsie's lips, and she carefullyavoided the glance of Lottie's eyes, which she knew were dancing withfun, while there was a half-suppressed titter from the girls at thetable.

  "I really can't say I understand exactly what it is," said AuntWealthy dubiously.

  "What sort of looking creature is a sculpture, Mrs. Schilling?" askedMr. Egerton.

  "Excuse me; there's some more company coming," she answered, hurryingfrom the room.

  "My good landlady is really quite an amusing person," he observed inan aside to Elsie, near to whom he had seated himself.

  She made no response. The newly-arrived guests were being ushered in,and there were fresh greetings and introductions to be gone throughwith. Then conversation became quite brisk, and after a little, itseeming to be understood that all invited, or expected, were presentsome one proposed playing games. They tried several of the quieterkind, then Lottie King proposed "Stage-coach."

  "Lot likes that because she's a regular romp," said her sister.

  "And because she tells the story so well; she's just splendid at it!"cried two or three voices. "Will you take that part if we agree toplay it?"

  "Yes, if no one else wants it."

  "No danger of that. We'll play it. Miss Dinsmore, will you take part?"

  "Thank you; I never heard of the game before, and should not know whatto do."

  "Oh, it's easy to understand. Each player--except thestory-teller--takes the name of some part of the stage-coach, orsomething connected with it;--one is the wheels, another the window,another the whip, another the horses, driver, and so on, and so on.After all are named and seated--leaving one of their number out, andno vacancy in the circle--the one left out stands in the centre, andbegins a story, in which he or she introduces the names chosen by theothers as often a
s possible. Each must be on the qui vive, and theinstant his name is pronounced, jump up, turn round once and sit downagain. If he neglects to do so, he has to pay a forfeit. If theword stage-coach is pronounced, all spring up and change seats; thestory-teller securing one, if he can and leaving some one else to tryhis hand at that."

  Lottie acquitted herself well; Mr. Egerton followed, doing evenbetter; then Aunt Wealthy was the one left out, and with her crookedsentences and backward or opposite rendering of names caused shoutsof merriment. The selling of the forfeits which followed was no lessmirth-provoking. Then the refreshments were brought in; first, severalkinds of cake--the sponge and the farmers' fruit-cake, made after MissStanhope's prescription, as Mrs. Schilling informed her guests, andone or two other sorts. Elsie declined them all, saying that she neverate anything in the evening.

  "Oh, now that's too bad, Miss Dinsmore! do take a little bit ofsomething," urged her hostess; "I shall feel real hurt if you don't;it looks just as if you didn't think my victuals good enough for youto eat."

  "Indeed you must not think that," replied Elsie, blushing deeply."Your cake looks very nice, but I always decline evening refreshments;and that solely because of the injury it would be to my health toindulge in them."

  "Why, you aint delicate, are you? You don't look so; you've as healthya color as ever I see; not a bit like as though you had the dyspepsy."

  "No, I have never had a touch of dyspepsia, and I think my freedomfrom it is largely owing to papa's care of me in regard to what I eatand when. He has never allowed me to eat cake in the evening."

  "Well, I do say! you're the best girl to mind your pa that ever I see!But you're growed up now--'most of age, I should judge--and I reckonyou've a sort o' right to decide such little matters for yourself. Idon't believe a bit o' either of these would hurt you a mite; andif it should make you a little out o' sorts just you take a dose ofspirits of pneumonia. That's my remedy for sick stomic, and it curesme right up, it does."

  Elsie smiled, but again gently but firmly declined. "Please don'ttempt me any more, Mrs. Schilling," she said; "for it is a temptation,I assure you."

  "Well, p'raps you'll like the next course better," rejoined herhostess, moving on.

  "She's a splendid cook and the cake is really nice," remarked LottieKing in a low tone, close at her friend's side.

  "Yes, Miss Dinsmore, you'd better try a little of it; I don't believeit would hurt you, even so much as to call for the spirits ofpneumonia," said Egerton, laughing.

  "Oh, look!" whispered Lottie, her eyes twinkling with merriment, "herecomes the second course served up in the most original style."

  Mrs. Schilling had disappeared for a moment, to return bearing awooden bucket filled with a mixture of candies, raisins and almonds,and was passing it around among her guests, inviting each to take ahandful.

  "Now, Miss Dinsmore, you won't refuse to try a few of these?" shesaid persuasively, as she neared their corner, "I shall be realdisappointed if you do."

  "I am very sorry to decline your kind offer, even more for my ownsake than yours," returned Elsie, laughing and blushing; "for I amextremely fond of confectionery; but I must say no, thank you."

  "Mr. Egerton, do you think 'twas because my cakes and things wasn'tgood enough for her that she wouldn't taste 'em?" asked his landlady,in an aggrieved tone, as the last of the guests departed.

  Elsie had gone an hour before, he having had the pleasure of escortingher and Miss Stanhope across the street, leaving them at their owndoor; but he did not need to ask whom Mrs. Schilling meant.

  "Oh, no, not at all, my good woman!" he answered. "It was nothing butfilial obedience joined to the fear of losing her exuberant health.Very wise, too, though your refreshments were remarkably nice."

  "Poor Mrs. Sixpence," Lottie King was saying to her sister at thatmoment, "she whispered to me that though her party had gone off sosplendidly, she had had two great disappointments,--in Mr. Wert'sabsenting himself, and the refusal of the Southern heiress to so muchas taste her carefully prepared dainties."