LOVERS AND LOVERS.
Jaqueline found herself very much engrossed.
There was another young lady to attract visitors, and Patricia soon
became a favorite. She was vivacious and ready to take her part in any
amusement, could dance like a fairy, and sing like a bird.
"You'll have to look to your laurels, Miss Jaqueline," said old Mr.
Manners, their next neighbor. "Patty will carry off all the lovers in
no time. I hope you have made sure of yours."
Jaqueline blushed and tossed her head.
"He would marry me to-morrow," she returned. "I'm in no haste to be
married."
At the next wedding she had another attendant, the brother of the
bride. Roger was too busy to come for the mere pleasure. When the
birthday ball was at the Lees' Mr. Monroe had sent him to Philadelphia
on some important business. So Lieutenant Ralston was cavalier for both
girls; and certainly Patty was one of the belles of the evening, and
could have danced with two partners every time.
After that came Patty's birthday, and a grand affair it was. Mrs.
Jettson ran down to look on and help a little, as she said, but not
to take an active part. Ralston begged that Dr. Collaston might be
invited. He had graduated from the Philadelphia school, but was a
Marylander by birth; and, having a private fortune, had decided to
spend the winter in Washington. A bright, fine-looking young fellow who
played the flute delightfully and sang all the songs of the day, and,
what was of still more importance to social life, could dance with zest
and elegance.
Jaqueline was in some degree the hostess, and distributed her favors
impartially, so Roger had very little of her. Varina and Annis felt as
if they were in fairyland, and were entranced with delight.
Mrs. Jettson insisted that after Christmas she should have her turn
with the girls.
"There are to be some famous visitors, I hear, and Washington is
getting to be quite a notable place. Not quite St. James; but Mrs.
Madison is our queen, and it is like a little court, as Philadelphia
used to be in Mrs. Washington's time. The debates will be worth
hearing, or rather seeing, for the famous speakers who will take part.
Dolly writes about Mr. Calhoun, and there is a Mr. Henry Clay, who is
very eloquent. I can't give regular parties, but you girls can go out,
and Patty must attend a levee and be presented to Mrs. Madison."
Patricia was very much elated.
"Why, it will be something like the English stories,"--there were a few
novels even then that girls were allowed to read,--"going up to London
or to Bath with a trunk full of finery. I don't suppose you ever will
take us to London, papa?"
"I'm getting too old. You will have to get a husband to take you to
London."
"'Where the streets were so wide and the lanes were so narrow?'" sang
Patty. "But I won't have a wheelbarrow. I'll have a coach, or nothing."
"I wish you were not going away," Annis sighed. "It's so bright and
merry when you are here, and so many ladies come in their pretty
frocks, and they laugh and talk. I can hear you upstairs when I am in
my bed. And the fiddles sound so gay, and then I know you are dancing.
Oh, I wish Christmas and birthdays could come oftener!"
"The birthdays might do for little people who are anxious to grow old
fast," said Jaqueline, patting the child's shoulder. "But the rest
of us wouldn't want two or three in a year. And it won't be very long
before you'll be going to Washington to see the queen, pussy cat."
"But I want you, not the queen. It will be so lonesome when you are
gone!"
"You are a little sweet!" Jaqueline bent over and kissed her. "I hope
you'll stay just sweet, nothing else. Everybody will love you."
"I'm afraid I don't want quite everybody," she returned in a hesitating
tone.
"Yes, one can even have too much of love," laughed the elder sister.
She thought she sometimes had too much of it. She was proud of Roger
Carrington, and she was quite sure she did not care for anyone else
in the way of wishing that some other person stood in his place. Why,
then, was she not ready to step into his life and make it glad with a
supreme touch of happiness?
Annis glanced up wistfully to the beautiful face bent over her, which
was more engrossed with its own perplexities than considering her
little sister. Then suddenly she laughed, a low musical sound with much
amusement in it, and Annis smiled too.
"You are having love troubles early, Annis dear," she said gayly.
Charles' _penchant_ increased rather than diminished, and Annis found
it somewhat exacting and troublesome. When there were other young
visitors Varina appropriated them, much to Charles' satisfaction, and
he invariably turned the cold shoulder to other little girls.
"But Charles is going to school presently, and he will get interested
in boys and plans for the future, so you may stand a chance of being
forgotten; how will you like that?"
"Why, I shall have mamma always. Jaqueline," hesitatingly, "does anyone
love you too much? Is it Mr. Ralston? And doesn't he love Marian any
more?"
"My dear, when Marian was engaged Mr. Ralston gave her up, which was
right and honorable. Little girls can't understand all about such
matters."
"I like Mr. Ralston very much," Annis remarked gravely. "Varina thinks
Patty will marry him."
"What nonsense! Varina is quite too ready with her tongue. Come, don't
you want a little ride with me before I go to town?"
The child was delighted, and ran off for her hat and coat.
Her father had suggested a little caution in regard to Mr. Ralston.
They were simply friends. He had never uttered a word that could be
wrongly construed. She had a kind of safe feeling with him. Was there
any real danger? But he was Roger's friend as well?
There were already some invitations awaiting the two girls when
they arrived at Mrs. Jettson's. Patricia was much elated with her
first levee. Certainly there was a group of distinguished women
entertaining--Mrs. Cutts and Mrs. Lucy Washington, now a charming young
widow; Mrs Gallatin, and the still handsome Mrs. Monroe, who had been
an acknowledged New York beauty; and among the men the very agreeable
young Washington Irving, who was to leave a lasting mark on American
literature.
"But you feel almost afraid of the wisdom and genius and power," said
Patricia to Dr. Collaston. "Now, there is Mr. Clay, with his sharp
eyes under the overhanging eyebrows that look as if they might dart
out at you and somehow set you in a blaze. I am to go hear one of
his speeches, my brother insists. And my cousin Dolly is wild about
Mr. Calhoun. Don't you think they might both have been made handsomer
without any great detriment to the world? And Mrs. Calhoun is charming.
She knew some of the Floyds and heard about Dolly's marriage."
"Patrick Henry wasn't a handsome man, if accounts are reliable. Genius
and good looks do not always go together," and Collaston smiled.
"There is Mr. Irving. He talks delightfully. And it is a pleasure to
look at him."
"Call no man happy until he is dead. I mean it is not safe to predict
how much fame one will win until----"
"Until he has won it. But it is a kind of cruel thing to wait until
you are dead, when you can't know anything about it. I mean to take my
delight as I go along. But, then, women are not expected to be addicted
to longing for fame."
"Still they may be famous for beauty. I think there have been a number
of famous women. Queen Elizabeth----"
"Don't instance the Empress Catherine nor Catherine de Medicis. If you
do, I shall never forgive you. Nor Joan of Arc--I can't remember any
more."
"Nor the Pilgrim mothers! They deserved a good deal of credit to set
up housekeeping on bleak Plymouth Rock. Why doesn't someone talk about
them! Housekeeping is a womanly grace or virtue or acquirement--which
do you call it?"
"I suppose it is an acquirement when you work hard to obtain it, a
grace when it comes natural. Do you imagine they kindled the fire on
the rocks and boiled the kettle as we do when we go off in the woods
for a day's pleasure?"
"They wouldn't let you do it now. Plymouth Rock has become----"
"The palladium of liberty! Isn't that rather choice and fit and
elegant? It is a pity that I can't take the credit of inventing it.
And what a shame we haven't a few rocks about here! I have a dreadful
feeling that the Capital may sink down in the slough some day and
disappear. Every street ends in a marsh."
"You see, this is rightly called the New World--it is not finished yet."
"Dr. Collaston, we can't allow you to monopolize the beauties of
the evening. Here are some guests anxious to meet Miss Mason," and
thereupon Patricia was turned slightly around to face a group of young
people.
But it was not all gayety or compliments, though men were gallant
enough then, and ready with florid encomiums. There was the dreaded
topic of war, which was touched upon with bated breath; there were
muttered anathemas concerning the impressment of sailors; there were
fears of France and a misgiving that we were not strong enough to cope
with England while our resources were still slender. And already there
were undercurrents forming for the Presidential election more than six
months hence.
But the younger people chatted nonsense, laughed at trifles, and made
engagements for pleasure as well as for life; or the more coquettish
ones teased their lovers with vain pretenses. Mrs. Van Ness entertained
with ease and brilliance, and was as fond of gathering the younger
people about her as those more serious companies where the responsible
party men met and in a veiled way touched upon the graver questions.
At Mrs. Gallatin's one met the more intellectual or scientific people.
There was a feeling in the air that the country ought to consider an
advancement in literature. Boston was already pluming herself upon a
certain intellectual standing. There were Harvard and a Law Club, and
a kind of literary center that had issued a magazine, and there were
several papers. New York had some poets, and there had been a few
novels written. But what could anyone say about such a new country?
There were no famous ruins, though there were battlefields that were to
be historic ground when men could look at them from a distance. Many a
brave story lurked in the fastnesses of Virginia, and old James River
held a romance in almost every curve of its banks.
But people were busy about the currency and the debts, and the laws
the young nation must have for her safety, and the respect she must
demand from other nations. For this is one of the things nations give
grudgingly; perhaps individuals do it, as well. Even now Mr. Adams'
administration was criticised, and Mr. Benjamin Franklin was accused
of spending his time flirting with French women, who were great
flatterers, all the world knew. And some people were still berating the
Jefferson policy, and sneered at little Jemmy Madison. Washington had
not really taken hold of the hearts of the people. Gouverneur Morris
had said wittily that "it only lacked cellars and houses and decently
paved streets and a steady population, and that it was a fine city for
future residences."
Georgetown was more settled and prosperous, and there was much going
back and forth, if coaches did now and then get stuck in the mud; and
young gentlemen not infrequently adopted the Philadelphia custom of
drawing on long leggings when they went on horseback to keep their
handsome stockings and their velvet smallclothes from being injured.
The South was well represented in these early days. Newspaper letters
found their way to other cities, with enthusiastic descriptions of the
principal beauties, their charms and fascinations. Mrs. Madison and her
two sisters perhaps set the pace for delightful hospitality, and that
still more engaging and agreeable quality of giving guests a pleasant
time and a lasting remembrance to take away with them.
But it was not all pleasure. There were housewifely duties; and more
than one visitor saw the first lady of the land in her morning gown of
gray stuff and a big white apron, for servants were not always equal
to the state dinners. There were some charities too, when the younger
people met to sew, and gossip about new fashions and new admirers.
And the first real work of benevolence was undertaken about that time
by some of the more notable women. This was the City Orphan Asylum,
for already there were homeless waifs at the Capital. They met once a
week to cut out clothing, or cut over garments sent in. Mrs. Van Ness
kept up her interest in it through a long life, after Mrs. Madison
retired to her Virginian home to nurse her husband's invalid mother,
and finally devote herself to the years of dependence that befell
the husband of her love. Certainly the record of her later life reads
like a charming romance. But the young people were not interested in
policies, and could not believe in war, except Indian skirmishes and
among the European nations hungering for power.
Patricia was eager for fun and delight, and dearly loved a dance. And,
like more modern girls, she had a desire to be settled in life, to
have a home of her own. To her that seemed the chief business to be
undertaken through these early years. She liked Ralph Carrington very
much. "But perhaps one in a family ought to suffice," she remarked to
Jane. "Then he is so grave and bookish, and his wife will be expected
to come home. I dare say Jack and I would always dispute about
husbands. Ralph has the best temper. Roger is dreadfully jealous. I
can't see how Jack dares to go on so."
"She'll go too far some day," and Jane gave her head a slow, ominous
shake. "And she'll be very foolish! You mark my words, Roger Carrington
will be sent abroad before he dies of old age. It's a great honor, I
suppose, but I'd rather go on living here."
"I really don't think I'll take Ralph," after some consideration. "Do
you suppose this gold-thread embroidery will look like that imported
stuff?" holding up her work, as if that was more important.
"Well, it's pretty enough for a queen. There's that New York judge,
Patty----"
"I'd rather have someone first-hand. I can't take another woman's
children to my palpitating bosom and have it palpitate as sweetly as
Marian's did. But, la! there's a talk that Mrs. Washington smiles on
Judge Todd, who is her shadow! But he's in the Supreme Court."
"And ever so much older."
"Well, so was Mr. Madison."
"I like young men best."
"Peyton Lee is over here half his time."
"But, then, I've known him always. And he is too easy. Why, I could
run right over him! Because a man cares for a girl he shouldn't be
wishy-washy," and Patty tossed her dainty head.
Jane laughed. "And the doctor?"
"Oh, I dare say he will want to go back to Philadelphia and turn
Quaker. I couldn't wear those hideous straight gowns and horrid scoop
hats without a bow!"
"He has been investing in Washington property. He talks of building
several houses to rent for the winter. It would be quite a scheme,
if they were furnished. Senator Macy would have brought his family
if he could have found a comfortable place for them to live. There
ought to be some decent hotels and boarding-houses. Men can manage to
squeeze in, but it gives permanency to a city to have homes and wives
and children. And Washington is kind of shifty. Look how prosperous
Georgetown is!"
Patty nodded. The doctor had discussed this property scheme with her.
She was seriously considering him in her own mind. He had not quite
asked her to marry him, but he was keeping a very watchful eye over
her.
They went up to Arlington for a three-days' visit and a dance. There
was a week at Bladensburg and a sleigh-ride, a rather infrequent
occurrence, which made no end of fun and frolic. By this time the
doctor had laid his case before Mr. Mason. He had decided to cast in
his lot with the new city, to set up a home, and desired permission to
address charming Miss Patricia on the subject. He presented his worldly
prospects to the elder gentleman in a very frank manner, and referred
him to some well-known residents of the Quaker City.
Patty had been engrossed a good deal with her own affairs, although she
had laughed and danced with the gayest. Jane had been much interested
in watching the outcome of the adventure. She had an elder-sisterly
feeling for these girls, who had been so much nearer since Marian's
defection. She should be rather proud of their both doing so well under
her supervision.
So Jaqueline had been going her own gait pretty well, and developed
an inordinate fondness for pleasure and flattery. She was too wise to
believe all the pretty speeches, all the earnest speeches even. But
they had a rosy fragrance, and perhaps the good thing about some of
them was that they faded. She was not an inborn coquette, hungry for
lasting power over men's hearts, but the present moment satisfied her.
The variety fascinated her.
Roger Carrington, watching this, was at first rather amused, then a
little hurt, and finally, when he began to ask himself seriously how
much true regard Jaqueline had for him, grew passionately jealous. If
she had said, "I have made a sad mistake; I find that I have a deeper
regard for Lieutenant Ralston than I imagined; will you give me back
my freedom?" he would have been manly to the heart's core, and released
her, though it had wrenched away the beautiful dream of his life.
But she affected to treat this merely as a friendship. Could she not
see?
When other attentions became troublesome she sheltered herself behind
Ralston. He was engrossed in the affairs of the country. He had a
feeling at times that he was only playing a part in life, that instead
of being merely an ornamental soldier he should go out on the frontier
and take an active part in the struggles. He was not meant for a
statesman, though he listened, fascinated, to Marshall and Randolph and
Clay and Calhoun, and envied them their power of moving the multitude.
Then, it did not seem very heroic to be getting the level of a street
and calculating the filling in, to consider Tiber Creek and Darby
Marsh, to superintend rows of trees and dikes and blind ditches. But
when he confessed his dissatisfactions to Jaqueline, she said with
a wise, earnest, sisterly air: "Oh, do not go away! There will be
an election in the coming autumn, and how do you know but we may be
plunged into war and need you for our own defense? Arthur thinks so
much of your advice and counsel."
That was very true. The thing was to build up Washington. Other cities
had grown by slow accretion, and been a hundred and more years about
it. Congress had ordered a city on a slender purse. There had been
magnificent plans and a half-finished Capitol, a Presidential residence
that Mrs. Adams had not inaptly termed a "great castle"; there were
scattered beautiful houses, and though more than a dozen years had
passed it was not yet a city of homes; but there was a new _amour
propre_ awakening. The poverty of those days can scarcely be understood
in these times of lavishness.
So energetic young men like Arthur Jettson and Dr. Collaston found
scope for all their energies, and were warmly welcomed.
The latter had hardly decided where to make his home until he met
Patricia Mason. And now he adopted his nation's Capital at once.
His answer was favorable, and he hurried to his sweetheart with all
impatience, though he had been cool enough before. And she accepted
him, as any sensible girl with a strong liking for a young man every
way worthy of her regard was likely to do. Jane was called in presently
to rejoice with them.
"Oh, Patty!" she exclaimed afterward, kissing her enthusiastically,
"it's just a splendid marriage! I'm so glad to keep you in Washington!
You and Jaqueline and I will have such good times--we think alike on so
many subjects. I am happy for you, my dear. And I do wonder if you'll
want to spin out your engagement----"
"He won't," returned Patty, her pretty face red as a rose, and her
eyes suffused with a kind of prideful love. "Why, he spoke of it and
thought a month would do! The idea! And all the wedding clothes to get
and make! And he never once suggested that we should go to New York, as
Preston Floyd did!"
Patty drew her face in comical lines, as if indicating disappointment;
but the laugh spoiled it all, and the waves of joy dancing in the lines
were fascinating.
"I do wonder what grandmamma will give me? The pearls and the
rubies are bespoke, and she has a diamond cross that has been in the
family--how long?"
"And the diamond ring father Mason gave her. You know Aunt Catharine
claims that. I ought to have the cross, being the oldest girl, though
it did come from the Verney side."
"Jaqueline is to have our own mother's pearls. There's a beautiful
string of them, and eardrops. But I think the doctor has some diamonds
belonging to his mother. Oh, I wish there were some brothers and
sisters! I shall not gain any new relations! Father wrote him a
delightful letter; I wish I had kept it to show you. And he says
Jaqueline and I must come home soon. Perhaps he will be up next week."
So they chatted, and when Mr. Jettson came in to dinner it was all gone
over again. If girls did not exactly "thank Heaven fasting" for a good
husband, they were glad and proud of their great success. They were
not ashamed of loving and being loved; there was a kind of sacredness
to most women about this best gift of life. For in those days it was
for life. If it did not begin with the maddening fervor of some later
loves, it kept gathering sweetness as the years went on.
Patty was still at her needlework when Mr. Carrington came in.
"Mother has just sent a servant over to say that I am to bring you
and Jaqueline to tea and to spend the night. Some Baltimore relatives
have come, and she is anxious you shall meet. They go to Alexandria
to-morrow, and then to Stafford, which accounts for the short notice."
"Oh, Jaqueline went over to the Bradfords' this morning. They're going
to have a little play, and want her to take part. She can do that so
splendidly, you know. Lieutenant Ralston came for her, and said she was
to stay to dinner."
Carrington frowned and bit his lip.
"I think I'll send over to the Bradfords'. I can't go myself," as if he
were considering.
"I'm sorry, Roger, but perhaps _I_ ought not go. And I hate to
disappoint your mother when she has been so kind to us. But Dr.
Collaston is coming in this evening----"
There was a flood of scarlet leaping to her face as she gave a
half-embarrassed laugh.
"Oh, Patty! you don't mean--I mistrusted he was in love with you, but
it doesn't always follow that a girl is in love. Shall I give you my
best, my most heartfelt wishes? For I know your father will approve. He
is a fine fellow, and a fortune is no detriment."
He took her hand in a tender clasp and then pressed it to his lips.
"Yes, the approval was sought beforehand. He heard from papa this
morning, and came at once. And I'm not good at secrets," with a joyous
laugh.
"And you are very happy? I need not ask it of such eyes as those."
Their great gladness gave him a pang.
"It was so sudden. You see, I wasn't quite sure," the color fluttering
up and down her sweet face. "I kept saying to myself, 'There are plenty
of others,' and now I know there was just one, and I could never be so
glad about any other. I am a silly girl, am I not, but you are almost
a brother----"
"I wish I were quite, in the way that marriage gives you a brother. I
shall shake hands most cordially with the doctor. Perhaps we might go
as a party--would you mind?"
"Oh, no! If you could find Jaqueline."
"I'll see at once, and send you word. And get word to the doctor also."
"Oh, thank you!"
Roger Carrington dispatched a messenger to the Bradfords. The party had
just gone to Mount Pleasant on horseback. It was doubtful if they would
be home before supper. They were not sure, and there was a beautiful
full moon.
Then Carrington was angry. She thought nothing of going off with
Ralston, and she might at least have consulted him about the play. That
she had not known of it last evening did not at that moment occur to
him. All the grievances and irritations of the past few weeks suddenly
accumulated, accentuated by the joyous face he had left behind. Did
Jaqueline really love him? Had she not put off the marriage on one
pretext and another? She had taken admiration very freely, quite as
if she were not an engaged girl. It had annoyed him, but he did not
want to play the tyrant, and she had so many pretty excuses. How sweet
and coaxing the tones of her voice were! Her smiling eyes had ever
persuaded him; and when tears gathered in them they were irresistible
and swept away judgment. He had been too easy. After all, a man was to
be the head.
He did not find the doctor either, but sent word to Patricia that he
was most sorry to take such a disappointment to his mother. They would
all go some other time. And he went home rather out of temper inwardly,
but courteous to his mother's guests outwardly.
They were quite disappointed at not seeing Roger's betrothed.
All the next day and evening he was so closely engaged that he could
not even run down to the Jettsons' until after nine; and then they
were all out. That did not improve the white heat of his indignation,
and convinced him that Jaqueline cared more for her own pleasure than
for him. Then when he called the day following she was over at the
Bradfords' practicing.
"It's too bad!" cried Patricia. "They never came home from their ride
until after ten. Jaqueline looked for you yesterday. The play is to
be on Monday night, and father is coming up on Wednesday, though now
Jaqueline is in it she will have to stay. It is to be quite an event.
And a dance afterward."
Occasionally a theatrical company strayed into Washington, but private
plays were a treat to the actors as well as to the invited guests.
The Bradfords' house was commodious, and the tickets were to be sold
for the benefit of the orphan asylum, so there was no difficulty in
disposing of them.