About two months after their return from the South, Mr. Percival
called one evening, and said: "Do you know Mr. Brick, the
police-officer? I met him just now, and he stopped me. 'There's plenty
of work for you Abolitionists now-a-days,' said he. 'There are five
Southerners at the Tremont, inquiring for runaways, and cursing
Garrison. An agent arrived last night from Fitzgerald's
plantation,--he that married Bell's daughter, you know. He sent for me
to give me a description of a nigger that had gone off in a mysterious
way to parts unknown. He wanted me to try to find the fellow, and,
of course, I did; for I always calculate to do my duty, as the law
directs. So I went immediately to Father Snowdon, and described the
black man, and informed him that his master had sent for him, in
a great hurry. I told him I thought it very likely he was lurking
somewhere in Belknap Street; and if he would have the goodness to hunt
him up, I would call, in the course of an hour or two, to see what
luck he had.'"
"Who is Father Snowdon?" inquired Mrs. Delano.
"He is the colored preacher in Belknap Street Church," replied Mr.
Percival, "and a remarkable man in his way. He fully equals Chloe in
prayer; and he is apt to command the ship Buzzard to the especial
attention of the Lord. The first time I entered his meeting, he was
saying, in a loud voice, 'We pray thee, O Lord, to bless her Majesty's
good ship, the Buzzard; and if there's a slave-trader now on the coast
of Africa, we pray thee, O Lord, to blow her straight under the lee of
the Buzzard.' He has been a slave himself, and he has perhaps helped
off more slaves than any man in the country. I doubt whether
Garrick himself had greater power to disguise his countenance. If a
slaveholder asks him about a slave, he is the most stolid-looking
creature imaginable. You wouldn't suppose he understood anything, or
ever _could_ understand anything. But if he meets an Abolitionist a
minute after, his black face laughs all over, and his roguish eyes
twinkle like diamonds, while he recounts how he 'come it' over the
Southern gentleman. That bright soul of his is a jewel set in ebony."
"It seems odd that the police-officer should apply to _him_ to catch a
runaway," said Mrs. Delano.
"That's the fun of it," responded Mr. Percival. "The extinguishers
are themselves taking fire. The fact is, Boston policemen don't feel
exactly in their element as slave-hunters. They are too near Bunker
Hill; and on the Fourth of July they are reminded of the Declaration
of Independence, which, though it is going out of fashion, is still
regarded by a majority of the people as a venerable document. Then
they have Whittier's trumpet-tones ringing in their ears,--
"'No slave hunt in _our_ borders! no pirate on _our_ strand!
No fetters in the Bay State! no slave upon _our_ land!'"
"How did Mr. Brick describe Mr. Fitzgerald's runaway slave?" inquired
Flora.
"He said he was tall and very black, with a white scar over his right
eye."
"That's Tom!" exclaimed she. "How glad Chloe will be! But I wonder he
didn't come here the first thing. We could have told him how well she
was getting on in New Bedford."
"Father Snowdon will tell him all about that," rejoined Mr. Percival.
"If Tom was in the city, he probably kept him closely hidden, on
account of the number of Southerners who have recently arrived; and
after the hint the police-officer gave him, he doubtless hustled him
out of town in the quickest manner."
"I want to hurrah for that policeman," said Flora; "but Mamita would
think I was a very rude young lady, or rather that I was no lady at
all. But perhaps you'll let me _sing_ hurrah, Mamita?"
Receiving a smile for answer, she flew to the piano, and, improvising
an accompaniment to herself, she began to sing hurrah! through all
manner of variations, high and low, rapidly trilled and slowly
prolonged, now bursting full upon the ear, now receding in the
distance. It was such a lively fantasia, that it made Mr. Percival
laugh, while Mrs. Delano's face was illuminated by a quiet smile.
In the midst of the merriment, the door-bell rang. Flora started from
the piano, seized her worsted-work, and said, "Now, Mamita, I'm ready
to receive company like a pink of propriety." But the change was so
sudden, that her eyes were still laughing when Mr. Green entered an
instant after; and he again caught that archly demure expression which
seemed to him so fascinating. The earnestness of his salutation was so
different from his usual formal politeness, that Mrs. Delano could not
fail to observe it. The conversation turned upon incidents of travel
after they had parted so suddenly. "I shall never cease to regret,"
said he, "that you missed hearing La Señorita Campaneo. She was a
most extraordinary creature. Superbly handsome; and do you know, Miss
Delano, I now and then caught a look that reminded me very much of
you. Unfortunately, you have lost your chance to hear her. For Mr.
King, the son of our Boston millionnaire, who has lately been piling
up money in the East, persuaded her to quit the stage when she had but
just started in her grand career. All the musical world in Rome were
vexed with him for preventing her re-engagement. As for Fitzgerald, I
believe he would have shot him if he could have found him. It was a
purely musical disappointment, for he was never introduced to the
fascinating Señorita; but he fairly pined upon it. I told him the best
way to drive off the blue devils would be to go with me and a few
friends to the Grotta Azzura. So off we started to Naples, and thence
to Capri. The grotto was one of the few novelties remaining for me
in Italy. I had heard much of it, but the reality exceeded all
descriptions. We seemed to be actually under the sea in a palace of
gems. Our boat glided over a lake of glowing sapphire, and our oars
dropped rubies. High above our heads were great rocks of sapphire,
deepening to lapis-lazuli at the base, with here and there a streak of
malachite."
"It seems like Aladdin's Cave," remarked Flora.
"Yes," replied Mr. Green; "only it was Aladdin's Cave undergoing a
wondrous 'sea change.' A poetess, who writes for the papers under the
name of Melissa Mayflower, had fastened herself upon our party in some
way; and I suppose she felt bound to sustain the reputation of the
quill. She said the Nereids must have built that marine palace, and
decorated it for a visit from fairies of the rainbow."
"That was a pretty thought," said Flora. "It sounds like 'Lalla
Rookh.'"
"It was a pretty thought," rejoined the gentleman, "but can give you
no idea of the unearthly splendor. I thought how you would have been
delighted if you had been with our party. I regretted your absence
almost as much as I did at the opera. But the Blue Grotto, wonderful
as it was, didn't quite drive away Fitzgerald's blue devils, though it
made him forget his vexations for the time. The fact is, just as we
started he received a letter from his agent, informing him of the
escape of a negro woman and her two children; and he spent most of the
way back to Naples swearing at the Abolitionists."
Flora, the side of whose face was toward him, gave Mrs. Delano a
furtive glance full of fun; but he saw nothing of the mischief in her
expressive face, except a little whirlpool of a dimple, which played
about her mouth for an instant, and then subsided. A very broad smile
was on Mr. Percival's face, as he sat examining some magnificent
illustrations of the Alhambra. Mr. Green, quite unconscious of the
by-play in their thoughts, went on to say, "It is really becoming a
serious evil that Southern gentlemen have so little security for that
species of property."
"Then you consider women and children _property_?" inquired Mr.
Percival, looking up from his book.
Mr. Green bowed with a sort of mock deference, and replied: "Pardon
me, Mr. Percival, it is so unusual for gentlemen of your birth and
position to belong to the Abolition troop of rough-riders, that I may
be excused for not recollecting it."
"I should consider my birth and position great misfortunes, if they
blinded me to the plainest principles of truth and justice," rejoined
Mr. Percival.
The highly conservative gentleman made no reply, but rose to take
leave.
"Did your friends the Fitzgeralds return with you?" inquired Mrs.
Delano.
"No," replied he. "They intend to remain until October, Good evening,
ladies. I hope soon to have the pleasure of seeing you again." And
with an inclination of the head toward Mr. Percival, he departed.
"Why did you ask him that question?" said Flora. "Are you afraid of
anything?"
"Not in the slightest degree," answered Mrs. Delano. "If, without
taking much trouble, we can avoid your being recognized by Mr.
Fitzgerald, I should prefer it, because I do not wish to have any
conversation with him. But now that your sister's happiness is no
longer implicated, there is no need of caution. If he happens to see
you, I shall tell him you sought my protection, and that he has no
legal power over you."
The conversation diverged to the Alhambra and Washington Irving; and
Flora ended the evening by singing the Moorish ballad of "Xarifa,"
which she said always brought a picture of Rosabella before her eyes.
The next morning, Mr. Green called earlier than usual. He did not
ask for Flora, whom he had in fact seen in the street a few minutes
before. "Excuse me, Mrs. Delano, for intruding upon you at such an
unseasonable hour," said he. "I chose it because I wished to be
sure of seeing you alone. You must have observed that I am greatly
interested in your adopted daughter."
"The thought has crossed my mind," replied the lady; "but I was by no
means certain that she interested you more than a very pretty girl
must necessarily interest a gentleman of taste."
"Pretty!" repeated he. "That is a very inadequate word to describe
the most fascinating young lady I have ever met. She attracts me so
strongly, that I have called to ask your permission to seek her for a
wife."
Mrs. Delano hesitated for a moment, and then answered, "It is my duty
to inform you that she is not of high family on the father's side; and
on the mother's, she is scarcely what you would deem respectable."
"Has she vulgar, disagreeable relations, who would be likely to be
intrusive?" he asked.
"She has no relative, near or distant, that I know of," replied the
lady.
"Then her birth is of no consequence," he answered. "My family would
be satisfied to receive her as your daughter. I am impatient to
introduce her to my mother and sisters, who I am sure will be charmed
with her."
Mrs. Delano was embarrassed, much to the surprise of her visitor, who
was accustomed to consider his wealth and social position a prize that
would be eagerly grasped at. After watching her countenance for an
instant, he said, somewhat proudly: "You do not seem to receive my
proposal very cordially, Mrs. Delano. Have you anything to object to
my character or family?"
"Certainly not," replied the lady. "My doubts are concerning my
daughter."
"Is she engaged, or partially engaged, to another?" he inquired.
"She is not," rejoined Mrs. Delano; "though I imagine she is not quite
'fancy free.'"
"Would it be a breach of confidence to tell me who has been so
fortunate as to attract her?"
"Nothing of the kind has ever been confided to me." answered the
lady. "It is merely an imagination of my own, and relates to a person
unknown to you."
"Then I will enter the lists with my rival, if there is one," said he.
"Such a prize is not to be given up without an effort. But you have
not yet said that I have your consent."
"Since you are so persistent," rejoined Mrs. Delano, "I will tell you
a secret, if you will pledge your honor, as a gentleman, never to
repeat it, or hint at it, to any mortal."
"I pledge my honor," he replied, "that whatever you choose to tell me
shall be sacred between us."
"It is not pleasant to tell the story of Flora's birth," responded
she; "but under present circumstances it seems to be a duty. When I
have informed you of the facts, you are free to engage her affections
if you can. On the paternal side, she descends from the French gentry
and the Spanish nobility; but her mother was a quadroon slave, and she
herself was sold as a slave."
Mr. Green bowed his head upon his hand, and spoke no word. Drilled to
conceal his emotions, he seemed outwardly calm, though it cost him a
pang to relinquish the captivating young creature, who he felt would
have made his life musical, though by piquant contrast rather than by
harmony. After a brief, troubled silence, he rose and walked toward
the window, as if desirous to avoid looking the lady in the face.
After a while, he said, slowly, "Do you deem it quite right, Mrs.
Delano, to pass such a counterfeit on society?"
"I have attempted to pass no counterfeit on society," she replied,
with dignity. "Flora is a blameless and accomplished young lady.
Her beauty and vivacity captivated me before I knew anything of her
origin; and in the same way they have captivated you. She was alone in
the world, and I was alone; and we adopted each other. I have never
sought to introduce her into society; and so far as relates to
yourself, I should have told you these facts sooner if I had known the
state of your feelings; but so long as they were not expressed, it
would scarcely have been delicate for me to take them for granted."
"Very true," rejoined the disenchanted lover. "You certainly had a
right to choose a daughter for yourself; though I could hardly have
imagined that any amount of attraction would have overcome _such_
obstacles in the mind of a lady of your education and refined views of
life. Excuse my using the word 'counterfeit.' I was slightly disturbed
when it escaped me."
"It requires no apology," she replied. "I am aware that society would
take the same view of my proceeding that you do. As for my education,
I have learned to consider it as, in many respects, false. As for my
views, they have been greatly modified by this experience. I have
learned to estimate people and things according to their real value,
not according to any merely external accidents."
Mr. Green extended his hand, saying: "I will bid you farewell, Mrs.
Delano; for, under existing circumstances, it becomes necessary to
deny myself the pleasure of again calling upon you. I must seek to
divert my mind by new travels, I hardly know where. I have exhausted
Europe, having been there three times. I have often thought I should
like to look on the Oriental gardens and bright waters of Damascus.
Everything is so wretchedly new, and so disagreeably fast, in this
country! It must be refreshing to see a place that has known no
changes for three thousand years."
They clasped hands with mutual adieus; and the unfortunate son of
wealth, not knowing what to do in a country full of noble work, went
forth to seek a new sensation in the slow-moving caravans of the East.
A few days afterward, when Flora returned from taking a lesson in
oil-colors, she said: "How do you suppose I have offended Mr. Green?
When I met him just now, he touched his hat in a very formal way, and
passed on, though I was about to speak to him."
"Perhaps he was in a hurry," suggested Mrs. Delano.
"No, it wasn't that," rejoined Flora. "He did just so day before
yesterday, and he can't always be in a hurry. Besides, you know he is
never in a hurry; he is too much of a gentleman."
Her friend smiled as she answered, "You are getting to be quite a
judge of aristocratic manners, considering you were brought up in a
bird-cage."
The young girl was not quite so ready as usual with a responsive
smile. She went on to say, in a tone of perplexity: "What _can_
have occasioned such a change in his manner? You say I am sometimes
thoughtless about politeness. Do you think I have offended him in any
way?"
"Would it trouble you very much if you had?" inquired Mrs. Delano.
"Not _very_ much," she replied; "but I should be sorry if he thought
me rude to him, when he was so very polite to us in Europe. What is
it, Mamita? I think you know something about it."
"I did not tell you, my child," replied she, "because I thought it
would be unpleasant. But you keep no secrets from me, and it is right
that I should be equally open-hearted with you. Did you never suspect
that Mr. Green was in love with you?"
"The thought never occurred to me till he called here that first
evening after his return from Europe. Then, when he took my hand, he
pressed it a little. I thought it was rather strange in such a formal
gentleman; but I did not mention it to you, because I feared you would
think me vain. But if he is in love with me, why don't he tell me so?
And why does he pass me without speaking?"
Her friend replied: "He deemed it proper to tell me first, and ask my
consent to pay his addresses to you. As he persisted very urgently, I
thought it my duty to tell him, under the seal of secrecy, that you
were remotely connected with the colored race. The announcement
somewhat disturbed his habitual composure. He said he must deny
himself the pleasure of calling again. He proposes to go to Damascus,
and there I hope he will forget his disappointment."
Flora flared up as Mrs. Delano had never seen her. She reddened to
the temples, and her lip curled scornfully. "He is a mean man!" she
exclaimed. "If he thought that I myself was a suitable wife for his
serene highness, what had my great-grandmother to do with it? I wish
he had asked me to marry him. I should like to have him know I never
cared a button about him; and that, if I didn't care for him, I should
consider it more shameful to sell myself for his diamonds, than it
would have been to have been sold for a slave by papa's creditors
when I couldn't help myself. I am glad you don't feel like going into
parties, Mamita; and if you ever do feel like it, I hope you will
leave me at home. I don't want to be introduced to any of these cold,
aristocratic Bostonians."
"Not all of them cold and aristocratic, darling," replied Mrs. Delano.
"Your Mamita is one of them; and she is becoming less cold and
aristocratic every day, thanks to a little Cinderella who came to her
singing through the woods, two years ago."
"And who found a fairy godmother," responded Flora, subsiding into
a tenderer tone. "It _is_ ungrateful for me to say anything against
Boston; and with such friends as the Percivals too. But it does seem
mean that Mr. Green, if he really liked me, should decline speaking to
me because my great-grandmother had a dark complexion. I never knew
the old lady, though I dare say I should love her if I did know
her. Madame used to say Rosabella inherited pride from our Spanish
grandfather. I think I have some of it, too; and it makes me shy of
being introduced to your stylish acquaintance, who might blame you if
they knew all about me. I like people who do know all about me, and
who like me because I am I. That's one reason why I like Florimond. He
admired my mother, and loved my father; and he thinks just as well of
me as if I had never been sold for a slave."
"Do you always call him Florimond?" inquired Mrs. Delano.
"I call him Mr. Blumenthal before folks, and he calls me Miss Delano.
But when no one is by, he sometimes calls me Miss Royal, because he
says he loves that name, for the sake of old times; and then I call
him Blumen, partly for short, and partly because his cheeks are so
pink, it comes natural. He likes to have me call him so. He says Flora
is the _Göttinn der Blumen_ in German, and so I am the Goddess of
Blumen."
Mrs. Delano smiled at these small scintillations of wit, which in the
talk of lovers sparkle to them like diamond-dust in the sunshine.
"Has he ever told you that he loved _you_ as well as your name?" asked
she.
"He never said so, Mamita; but I think he does," rejoined Flora.
"What reason have you to think so?" inquired her friend.
"He wants very much to come here," replied the young lady; "but he is
extremely modest. He says he knows he is not suitable company for such
a rich, educated lady as you are. He is taking dancing-lessons, and
lessons on the piano, and he is studying French and Italian and
history, and all sorts of things. And he says he means to make a mint
of money, and then perhaps he can come here sometimes to see me dance,
and hear me play on the piano."
"I by no means require that all my acquaintance should make a mint of
money," answered Mrs. Delano. "I am very much pleased with the account
you give of this young Blumenthal. When you next see him, give him my
compliments, and tell him I should be happy to become acquainted with
him."
Flora dropped on her knees and hid her face in her friend's lap. She
didn't express her thanks in words, but she cried a little.
"This is more serious than I supposed," thought Mrs. Delano.
A fortnight afterward, she obtained an interview with Mr. Goldwin, and
asked, "What is your estimate of that young Mr. Blumenthal, who has
been for some time in your employ?"
"He is a modest young man, of good habits," answered the merchant;
"and of more than common business capacity."
"Would you be willing to receive him as a partner?" she inquired.
"The young man is poor," rejoined Mr. Goldwin; "and we have many
applications from those who can advance some capital."
"If a friend would loan him ten thousand dollars for twenty years, and
leave it to him by will in case she should die meanwhile, would that
be sufficient to induce you?" said the lady.
"I should be glad to do it, particularly if it obliges you, Mrs.
Delano," responded the merchant; "for I really think him a very worthy
young man."
"Then consider it settled," she replied. "But let it be an affair
between ourselves, if you please; and to him you may merely say that a
friend of his former employer and benefactor wishes to assist him."
When Blumenthal informed Flora of this unexpected good-fortune, they
of course suspected from whom it came; and they looked at each other,
and blushed.
Mrs. Delano did not escape gossiping remarks. "How she has changed!"
said Mrs. Ton to Mrs. Style. "She used to be the most fastidious of
exclusives; and now she has adopted nobody knows whom, and one of Mr.
Goldwin's clerks seems to be on the most familiar footing there. I
should have no objection to invite the girl to my parties, for she is
Mrs. Delano's _adoptée_, and she would really be an ornament to my
rooms, besides being very convenient and an accomplished musician;
but, of course, I don't wish my daughters to be introduced to that
nobody of a clerk."
"She has taken up several of the Abolitionists too," rejoined Mrs.
Style. "My husband looked into an anti-slavery meeting the other
evening, partly out of curiosity to hear what Garrison had to say, and
partly in hopes of obtaining some clew to a fugitive slave that one of
his Southern friends had written to him about. And who should he see
there, of all people in the world, but Mrs. Delano and her _adoptée_,
escorted by that young clerk. Think of her, with her dove-colored
silks and violet gloves, crowded and jostled by Dinah and Sambo! I
expect the next thing we shall hear will be that she has given a negro
party."
"In that case, I presume she will choose to perfume her embroidered
handkerchiefs with musk, or pachouli, instead of her favorite breath
of violets," responded Mrs. Ton.
And, smiling at their wit, the fashionable ladies parted, to quote it
from each other as among the good things they had recently heard.
Only the faint echoes of such remarks reached Mrs. Delano; though she
was made to feel, in many small ways, that she had become a black
sheep in aristocratic circles. But these indications passed by her
almost unnoticed, occupied as she was in earnestly striving to redeem
the mistakes of the past by making the best possible use of the
present.
PART SECOND.