MR. MINTURN was a rising man; that is, he was gaining money and
reputation in his profession. That he felt himself rising, was clearly
apparent to all who observed him attentively. His good lady, Mrs.
Minturn, was also conscious of the upward movement, and experienced a
consequent sense of elevation. From the height they had gained in a few
years, it was but natural for them to cast their eyes below, and to
note how far beneath them were certain individuals with whom they had
once been on a level. The observation of this fact as naturally created
an emotion of contempt for these individuals as inferiors.
Among those ranging below the Minturns,--in their estimation,--was a
family named Allender. Mr. Allender was, or had been, a merchant, and
was highly esteemed by all who knew him, as a gentleman and a man of
fine intelligence. He and Minturn started together in life; the one as
a lawyer, and the other as a merchant. Possessing some capital, Mr.
Allender was able, in commencing business, to assume a comfortable
style of living in his family, while Minturn, who had nothing but his
profession to depend upon, and that at the time of his marriage a very
small dependence, was compelled to adopt, in his domestic relations, a
very humble scale.
Having been well acquainted, for some years, with Mr. Minturn, Mr.
Allender, soon after the marriage of the former, called upon him with
his wife. The visit was promptly returned, and from that time the two
families kept up intimate relations. The Minturns lived in a small
house, in a retired street, for which they paid the annual rent of one
hundred and seventy-five dollars. Their house was furnished with
exceeding plainness, and their only domestic was a stout girl of
fourteen. The Allenders, on the other hand, lived in a fashionable
neighbourhood, so called. For their house, which was handsomely
furnished, they paid a rent of four hundred dollars; and lived in what
the Minturns thought to be great elegance. And so it was, in contrast
with their style of living. Mrs. Minturn felt quite proud of having
such acquaintances, and of being able to visit familiarly in such good
society as was to be found at the house of Mr. and Mrs. Allender. You
could not be in her company for ten minutes, at any time, without
hearing some allusion to the Allenders. What they said, was repeated as
oracular; and to those who had never been in their house, Mrs. Minturn
described the elegance of every thing pertaining thereto, in the most
graphic manner.
Well, as time went on, Mr. Minturn, by strict devotion to business,
gradually advanced himself in his profession. At the end of four or
five years, he was able to move into a larger house and to get better
furniture. Still, every thing was yet on an inferior scale to that
enjoyed by Mr. Allender, to whose family his own was indebted for an
introduction into society, and for an acquaintance with many who were
esteemed as valued friends.
Ten years elapsed, and the Minturns were on a level with the Allenders,
as far as external things were concerned. The lawyer's business had
steadily increased, but the merchant had not been very successful in
trade, and was not esteemed, in the community, a rising man. No change
in his style of living had taken place since he first became a
housekeeper; and his furniture began, in consequence, to look a little
dingy and old-fashioned. This was particularly observed by Mrs.
Minturn, who had, at every upward movement,--and three of these
movements had already taken place,--furnished her house from top to
bottom.
Five years more reversed the relations between to families. The
Minturns still went up, and the Allenders commenced going down. One
day, about this time, Mr. Minturn came home from his office, and said
to his wife:
"I've got bad news to tell you about our friends the Allenders."
"What is that?" inquired Mrs. Minturn, evincing a good deal of
interest, though not exactly of the right kind.
"He's stopped payment."
"What?"
"He failed to meet his notes in bank yesterday, and to-day, I
understand, he has called his creditors together."
"I'm sorry to hear that, really," said Mrs. Minturn. "What is the
cause?"
"I believe his affairs have been getting involved for the last four or
five years. He does not seem to possess much business energy."
"I never thought there was a great deal of life about him."
"He's rather a slow man. It requires more activity and energy of
character than he possesses to do business in these times. Men are
getting too wide awake. I'm sorry for Allender. He's a good-hearted
man--too good-hearted, in fact, for his own interest. But, it's nothing
more than I expected."
"And I am sorry for poor Mrs. Allender," said his wife. "What a change
it will be for her! Ah, me! Will they lose every thing?"
"I have no means of knowing at present. But I hope not."
"Still, they will have to come down a great way."
"No doubt of it."
A week passed, after news of Mr. Allender's business disaster had
reached the ears of Mrs. Minturn, and in that time she had not called
to see her friend in distress. Each of these ladies had a daughter
about the same age; and that age was fifteen.
"Where are you going, Emeline?" asked Mrs. Minturn of her daughter, who
came down, with her bonnet on, one afternoon about this time.
"I'm going to run around and see Clara Allender," was replied.
"I'd rather you wouldn't go there, just now," said the mother.
"Why not?" asked Emeline.
"I have my reasons for it," returned Mrs. Minturn.
Emeline looked disappointed. She was much attached to Clara, who was a
sweet-tempered girl, and felt a week's absence from her as a real
privation. Observing the disappointment of Emeline, Mrs. Minturn said,
a little impatiently:
"I think you might live without seeing Clara every day. For some time
past, you have been little more than her shadow. I don't like these
girlish intimacies; they never come to any good."
Tears were in Emeline's eyes as she turned from her mother and went
back to her room.
Mr. Allender, at the age of forty, found himself unable, through the
exhaustion of his means, to continue in business. He would have
resigned every thing into the hands of his creditors before suffering a
protest, had he not failed to receive an expected payment on the day of
his forced suspension. When he did call together the men to whom he was
indebted, he rendered them up all his effects, and in all possible ways
aided in the settlement of every thing. The result was better than he
had anticipated. No one lost a dollar; but he was left penniless. Just
then, the president of one of the Marine Insurance Companies resigned
his office, and Mr. Allender was unanimously chosen to fill his place.
The salary was two thousand dollars. This was sufficient to meet the
expense at which his family had been living. So there was no change in
their domestic economy. This being the case, the Minturns had no good
reason for cutting the acquaintance of their old friends, much as they
now felt disposed to do so. The family visiting, however, was far from
being as frequent and as familiar as in former times.
Still, on the part of the Minturns the movement was upward, while the
Allender's retained their dead level. The lawyer, who was a man of
talents and perseverance, and withal not over scrupulous on points of
abstract morality, gained both money and reputation in his profession,
and was at length known as one of the most acute and successful men at
the bar. At last, he was brought forward by one of the political
parties as a candidate for a seat in Congress, and elected.
If Mrs. Minturn's ideas of her own elevation and importance in the
social world had been large, they were now increased threefold. A
winter's residence at the seat of government,--during which time she
mingled freely with the little great people who revolve around certain
fixed stars that shine with varied light in the political
metropolis,--raised still higher the standard of self-estimation. Her
daughter Emeline, now a beautiful and accomplished young lady,
accompanied her mother wherever she went, and attracted a large share
of attention. Among those who seemed particularly pleased with Emeline
was a young man, a member of Congress from New York, who belonged to a
wealthy and distinguished family, and who was himself possessed of
brilliant talent, that made him conspicuous on the floor of Congress,
even among men of long-acknowledged abilities. His name was Erskine.
Soon after meeting with the Hon. Mr. Erskine, Mrs. Minturn felt a
strong desire to bring him to the feet of her daughter. He presented
just the kind of alliance she wished for Emeline. In imagination she
soon began to picture to herself the elevated and brilliant position
her child would occupy as the wife of Erskine, and she resolved to
leave no means untried for the accomplishment of her wishes.
Accordingly, she was particularly attentive to the young man whenever
thrown into his company; and sought, by flattering his self-love, to
make him feel in the best possible humour with himself while in her
society. In this way she succeeded in drawing him frequently to her
side, where Emeline was always to be found. A sprightly, well-educated,
and finely accomplished girl, Emeline soon interested the young M. C.;
and he showed her, as has been said, a good deal of attention during
the winter, and Mrs. Minturn flattered herself that her daughter had
made a conquest.
When the session of Congress closed, the Minturns returned home in the
enjoyment of a much higher opinion of themselves than they had ever
before entertained, and quite disposed to be rather more choice than
before in regard to their visiting acquaintance. A few days after their
reappearance in old circles, a card of invitation to meet some friends
at the house of Mr. and Mrs. Allender was received. It extended to
themselves and their eldest daughter, Emeline. Mrs. Minturn handed the
card to her husband on his return from his office in the evening.
"What is this?" he asked, on taking it. "Ah, indeed!" he added, in
rather an equivocal voice, on perceiving its tenor. "Are you going?"
"I rather think not."
"Just as you say about it," remarked the acquiescing husband.
"The truth is," said Mrs. Minturn, "a regard for our position makes it
necessary for us to be more select in our acquaintances. I don't wish
Emeline to be on terms of intimacy with Clara Allender any longer.
There is too great a difference in their social relations. As people
are judged by the company they keep, they should be a little choice in
their selection. I like Mrs. Allender very well in her place. She is a
good, plain, common-sense sort of a woman, but she occupies a grade
below us; and we should remember and act upon this for the sake of our
children, if for nothing else."
"No doubt you are right," replied Mr. Minturn. "Mr. Allender has
neither energy of character nor enterprise; he, therefore, occupies a
dead level in society. At that level he cannot expect every one else to
remain."
"Not us, at least."
"No."
"Clara called to see Emeline yesterday. I saw her in the parlour, and
asked her to excuse Emeline, as she was a little indisposed. It is
true, I had to fib a little. But that was better than a renewal of an
acquaintance that ought now to cease. She seemed a little hurt, but I
can't help it."
"Of course not. I am sorry, for their sakes, that we must give up the
acquaintance. No loss can come to us, as we have more friends, now,
than are just convenient."
"It would help Clara a good deal," remarked Mrs. Minturn, "to mingle in
our circle. Her mother feels this, and, therefore, does not wish to
give us up. I've not the least doubt but this party is made on our
account. It won't do, however; they will have to let us go."
"It will be sufficient to send our regrets," said Mr. Minturn.
"We'd better not even do that," replied his wife. "That will indicate a
wish to retain the acquaintance, and we have no such desire. Better
sever the relation at once and be done with the matter. It is
unpleasant at least, and there is no use in prolonging disagreeable
sensations."
"Be it so, then," remarked Mr. Minturn, rising; and so the thing was
decided.
Mrs. Minturn had lapsed into a small mistake touching the reason that
induced Mr. and Mrs. Allender to give an entertainment just at that
time. It was not in honour of their return from Washington, and
designed to unite the families in a firmer union; no, a thought like
this had not entered the mind of the Allenders. The honour was designed
for another--even for the Hon. Mr. Erskine, who was the son of one of
Mr. Allender's oldest and most valued friends, whom he had not seen for
many years, yet with whom he had enjoyed an uninterrupted
correspondence. On his return home, Mr. Erskine remained a few days in
the city, as much to see Mr. Allender as for any thing else, his father
having particularly desired him to do so. He had never met Mr. Allender
before, but was charmed with his gentlemanly character and fine
intelligence at the first interview, and still more pleased with him at
each subsequent meeting. With Mrs. Allender he was also pleased; but,
most of all, with Clara. About the latter there was a charm that won
his admiration. She was beautiful; but how different her beauty from
that of the brilliant belles who had glittered in the gay circles of
fashion he had just left! It was less the beauty of features than that
which comes through them, as a transparent medium, from the pure and
lovely spirit within. Erskine had been more than pleased with Miss
Minturn; but he thought of her as one in a lower sphere while in the
presence of Clara, who, like a half-hidden violet, seemed all
unconscious of beauty or fragrance.
Yes, it was for Mr. Erskine that the party was given, and in order to
introduce him to a highly refined and intellectual circle, of which Mr.
Allender and his wife notwithstanding external reverses, were still the
centre. Not from any particular pleasure that was expected to be
derived from the company of the Minturns, were they invited; for, in
going up, they had changed so for the worse, that their society had
become irksome, if not offensive. But, for the sake of old friendship,
they were included. But they did not come; and no one missed them.
On the next day, Mr. Erskine called upon Mrs. Minturn and her daughter,
as he intended leaving the city in the afternoon.
"We looked for you all last evening," said Mrs. Minturn. "Why did you
not call around?"
"I was at a select party last night," replied the young man.
"Were you, indeed?"
"Yes. At Mr. Allender's. Do you know the family?"
"At Allender's!" The tone of surprise, not altogether unmingled with
contempt, with which this was uttered by Mrs. Minturn, put Erskine a
little on his guard.
"Do you know them?" he asked, with some gravity of manner.
"Not very intimately. We had some acquaintance in former years, but we
have broken it off. They sent us cards of invitation, but we did not
notice them."
"What is their standing?"
"Not high. I believe none of our first people visit them."
"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 class 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 associate."
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 passing 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 pronounced
her very beautiful. Two days passed, 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 anticipation, 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 unobserved.
Up to this day, they have never sought to renew the acquaintance.