IN SILK ATTIRE
The shopping the next day was something wonderful. Daffodil was quite
sure the fairies must have had a hand in it. And such beautiful
things, she fairly held her breath over them.
"But, madam, when am I to wear these lovely garments? For mother says
I grow so fast, and there is no one to take them afterward."
Betty Wharton laughed many times at the fascinating simplicity of the
child.
Then she took her to the mantua-makers, where she was measured, and
where she hardly understood a word of what they were saying, but
between whiles played with a beautiful yellow cat, who sat on a silken
cushion and purred his delight at the touch of the gentle hands.
"Now, you are to come home to dinner with me."
"Did uncle say I might? For mother told me to do nothing without his
permission."
"Oh, you darling infant!" She squeezed the slim little body that,
after all, was plump enough. It was shocking for a young person to be
fat in those days.
"I will make it all right with him."
Miss Wharton's house was much smaller. A square sort of hall, with
oddly pretty furnishing, a parlor and a dining-room off it, and all
were filled with curiosities that were family heirlooms, beautiful
things, for Miss Wharton abhorred ugliness and despised horrid Chinese
idols. The dinner was very dainty, and Daffodil wondered how she could
feel so much at home.
"And to-morrow we will go out again, but we will drive around, and you
shall see the city. What means that sober look?"
"Oh, madam, I shall feel so spoiled with beauty, that I don't know how
I shall content myself to go back to Pittsburg;" and her eyes swam in
a soft lustre that was almost tears.
"Perhaps we shall not let you go back;" laughingly.
Jane came around for her in the afternoon, and she said, "We missed
you so much at dinner time. And ever so many bundles have come for
you."
"And I've been so full of pleasure, that any more would run over. Oh,
madam, how can I thank you!"
"By coming again. I'll call for you to-morrow."
They walked home, past pretty gardens all a-bloom with summer
richness. Daffodil was so full of delight she wanted to dance. In her
room was one large box--that was the new hat. A rather fancy straw,
and she had not seen it trimmed. It had a wreath of fine roses
inside, and larger ones on the outside, and beautiful wide strings of
some gauzy stuff, that in warm weather were to float around, but in a
high wind they were tied under the chin.
And there was a dainty pair of red slippers, laced across the top,
with a red cord fastened diamond-wise, and a pair of black shoes. They
were not "boots" then. These came up almost to the ankles, and were
laced across with ribbon and tied in a bow. There were some imported
stockings, but Mrs. Jarvis declared she had never seen such pretty
home-knit ones as the little girl wore, that looked quite as if they
were of silk, and the clocks were perfect.
In another package was a beautiful scarf, with threads of gold in the
border, and some fine handkerchiefs.
"Mother has some at home, two that have wide borders of beautiful
lace, that she made herself. And bibs that you wear over the neck of
your frocks. And she is making a lovely skirt for me, that is lace and
needlework, and I am to have it when I am quite grown up and go out to
tea."
Barbe Carrick had begun to think of her daughter's marriage, and as
there was but little ready money, outfits were made at home, and
packed away against the time. For most mothers counted on it, even
thought of grandchildren.
Daffodil had enough to talk about that evening. Mr. Bartram went out,
and for an hour Dilly had her guardian quite to herself. Then two
gentlemen came in, and the tired little girl went to bed.
About ten the next morning a pony chaise stopped at the door. Jules
came out and took the reins, and Miss Wharton stepped lightly down and
was greeted by Mrs. Jarvis.
"I have come for the little girl," she said, "having her guardian's
permission. I am going to show her the sights, and make her sick of
Pittsburg. We want her here. Why, I never supposed I had such a
motherly streak in my nature, or I would have wedded and had a
houseful. Or else the child has some bewitchment about her. Jane, put
on her new hat and the scarf. The frocks will be here in a day or
two."
Daffodil did look bewitching as she stepped into the chaise. Miss
Wharton was quite used to driving. They went along Chestnut Street
first, past the stores, then looked at some of the old places that
were to be historical. Mistress Betty told over many of the war
adventures and the coming of the good news.
"And I remember that," said Daffodil. "Grandad was angry about it. He
still believes England will get us back sometime."
"Yet your father went to war. How did he take that?"
"I was so little then. I think I didn't know much about him until we
heard he would come home. Then I really began to remember. I didn't
like him so much at first, and I went to great-grandfather for
comfort. Oh, madam, he was so sweet and dear. And when M. de Ronville
came, and I put him in the old chair, it seemed almost as if
grandfather had come back. And I liked him at once. Now he is to be my
uncle, we have settled that."
Then they went out on the beautiful road, where the Shippens and
several of the old families had their capacious estates, and their
large old mansions. Oh, how lovely and orderly everything looked, the
picture of peace and plenty.
"Some day we will go over to Valley Forge. But it is nearing noon, and
I must not starve you. I know of a nice place, where ladies often go
at noon, and you do not need to have a man tagging after you. Start
up, Dolly!" to the pony.
They came back to busy streets. There were Quakers at Pittsburg, but
they did not seem so pronounced as here. And there were such
fine-looking men, in their drab suits, widebrimmed hats, and they wore
knee-breeches and silk stockings, quite like the world's people. Here
and there one nodded to Miss Wharton. The elegance and harmony
appealed to the child, without her understanding why.
They paused at a house set back a little from the street, with a
courtyard of blooming flowers. There was a wide covered porch and a
trellis work wreathed with vines. A wide door opened into a spacious
hall.
A young colored boy came out to them.
"Pomp," Miss Wharton said, "take the pony and give him a little feed
and water, not too much, mind now. He wants a little rest, so do we."
Pompey assisted them out with a flourish, and led the pony up a side
way. They walked to the porch, raised by three steps, and Miss Wharton
was greeted warmly by several parties.
"Here is a table," said Mrs. Mason. "My dear creature, I haven't seen
you in an age. Have you been getting married, and is this _his_
daughter? Did you take him for the sake of the child?"
"Alas! I have not been so fortunate! The child has both parents. And
she has just come from Pittsburg. You know, M. de Ronville went out
there and brought back--well, it is his grandniece, I suppose--Miss
Daffodil Carrick."
The waiter, another colored servant--they were quite favorites in the
city for their obsequious politeness--placed chairs for them.
"Pittsburg! Why, that's way at the West in the Indian countries, on
the way to Ohio, I believe. What a long journey. And how is M. de
Ronville?"
"Rather improved by his journey, I think. Now, Daffodil, what will you
have? You ought to be hungry."
"You choose for me, madam;" in a low tone, and with a tint of
exquisite coloring.
It kept wavering over the sweet face, for she felt somehow that she
was being observed. She wished she had on one of the pretty frocks,
but Jane had ironed out this white one, and Mrs. Jarvis had found her
a sash. But she was not accustomed to much consideration of herself,
and she was hungry. The ladies were prettily dressed, some of them in
rather quakerish colors and they had beautiful fans and parasols. It
was quite a meeting-place, where they exchanged bits of news, a little
gossip, and had most excellent tea.
"Carrick isn't a French name," said Madam Neville, rather critically.
"No. She is French on the mother's side. M. de Ronville's father and
her grandfather were Huguenot exiles in the old times. He is her
guardian now, and there is some property, enough for a town, I
believe. And you know the French once had possession of most of that
country."
Betty Wharton knew that would settle her status at once, more
decisively than her beauty.
Then some other ladies, having finished their tea, came over for a
little chat. Had she been to see the new play? For "The Academy of
Polite Science" seemed rather above an ordinary theatre, and
Philadelphia had swung back to amusements. Was she going to Mrs.
Chew's card party this evening?
"Oh, yes. She wouldn't miss it for anything."
"What a beautiful child!" whispered another. "Will she live here in
town?"
"Oh, she is only on a visit now."
"She's too nice to be wasted on such an outlandish place as Pittsburg,
where they do nothing but make whiskey."
The pony came round, and the ladies said their good-bys. Since the
closing of the war, indeed, in gratitude for French assistance, much
honor had been paid to our noble allies.
That evening M. de Ronville went to his card club. But Daffodil had
Mrs. Jarvis for audience, and in return heard many wonderful things
about the great city.
If Daffodil had not been so utterly simple-hearted and had so little
self-consciousness, it might have proved a rather dangerous ordeal for
her. In a few days she certainly was the light of the house. Even Mr.
Bartram yielded to her charm, though he fancied girls of that age were
seldom interesting: either painfully shy, or overbold. She was
neither. She seemed to radiate a pervasive atmosphere of happiness,
her smile was so full of light and joy; and her sweet voice touched
the springs of one's heart.
M. de Ronville had never met with any such experience. A shy young
man, he had kept much to his own compatriots. Then he had devoted
himself to business, with a vague idea that when he had made a fortune
he would go back to France, that had grown much more liberal in
matters of religion. But he had become warmly interested in the new
country, and especially the city.
He had been pleased with the household at Pittsburg, the plain
sensible soldier, who was making an excellent citizen, but the two
ladies he found most interesting. It was golden-crowned Daffodil that
stirred his heart in a new fashion, and made him feel how much had
been lost out of his life. And now he had her. A sweet, dazzling,
bird-like creature, that gave the house an altogether new aspect.
She went with Jane to call on Mrs. Craig. The daughter was well
married, and had four small children, though their house was rather
simple.
"And have you cried yourself to sleep with homesickness?" asked Mrs.
Craig. "I've heard it is rather quiet in the big house where you are,
with only a few grown people. True, Mr. de Ronville is like a father
or, perhaps, a grandfather would be nearer, and you have been used to
elderly men."
"Oh, madam, it is delightful. I like him so much. I did at home, or I
never could have come. And Mrs. Jarvis is nice and pleasant, and tells
me what is good manners for little girls, and Jane spoils me by
waiting on me."
"Madam, indeed!" laughed Mrs. Craig. "Why, you make me feel as if I
belonged to the quality!"
"They call the grown-up ladies that, the elder ones I mean. And there
is one who has been so good to me, Miss Wharton, who bought my new
clothes, and tells me what to wear, and things to say that are the
fashion here. I think we have not much fashion at home. She takes me
out, and, oh, there are so many things to see. And now uncle has hired
a pony, and I ride with him in the morning, and we all went to a play,
where the people made believe they were part of a story, and I was
charmed, for it seemed so real. And there was a fine concert, I never
heard so many instruments. And going to church is quite grand. I wish
we had a lovely church at home. Oh, I hardly have a moment, but I do
think of them all, and how wild Felix will be over all I shall have to
tell him."
"I'm afraid you won't want to go back."
"Not go back to mother and all the others? Why, every day makes it one
day nearer;" and the lovely light in her face showed she was not
forgetting them.
"I am going before real cold weather. It would be too hard a journey
to take in winter. But I find it very pleasant, too."
"And the stores are so full of beautiful things. People must be very
rich, they spend so much money."
"It is a big town, and there are many people."
"And one can't help being joyous and happy." She looked as if she
could dance or fly. "And uncle likes me best to be gay, and I should
be ungrateful to mope when so much is being done for me."
"Yes, that is true."
"And next week Miss Wharton is going to take me to a grand out-of-door
party of young people. Mrs. Pemberton came and gave uncle the
invitation for me, and he has promised to come in the evening to see
us, and to fetch me home."
"Oh, but they're on the Schuylkill! Well, you are going among the
quality. You'll never do for Pittsburg again."
"But I shall do for father and mother, and I shall have such fun
hearing grandad scold about all the doings, and say that I am spoiled,
and not worth a pewter platter. And then he will hug me so tightly
that it will almost squeeze the breath out of me."
She laughed so merrily and her face was in a glow of mirth and
mischief. Then Jane came for her, though she was quick about learning
the city streets. But M. de Ronville thought her too precious to be
trusted out alone, though now the town was safe enough.