at the most genteel boarding school in the city, and accustomed only
to polished society, to be brought to live at this remote place,
where my father has thought proper to purchase an iron-foundry,
but we are required also to be civil to the country people, and
interchange visits with them? I almost think my father intends
being a candidate for the assembly next election, or he never would
take the trouble to make himself agreeable to the farmers and their
families.
_Marianne._--You know, he thinks it is always desirable to be popular
with our neighbours.
_Charlotte._--That is what I shall never be, unless my neighbours are
popular with me.
_Marianne._--Now, for my part, I like very well to astonish them by
the elegance of my dress, and by my various accomplishments. I am
going to put my lace sleeves in my new palmyrene frock, purposely to
wear at this quilting.
_Charlotte._--It is well worth your while to take that trouble, when
the worst dress you have is too good for such company. I shall do
quite the contrary, to let them see how little I care for them.
_Marianne._--Then you will displease my father.
_Charlotte._--Is it necessary that he should know it? I am sure my
mother will never tell him, and for her own part, she never opposes
us in any thing. However, if I must be at this quilting, I shall take
care to make the time as short as possible, for I will go late and
come away early.
_Marianne._--Susan Davison said, she hoped we would be there by two
o'clock, which I suppose will be the usual hour of assembling.
_Charlotte._--Two o'clock! Go to a party at two o'clock! Why the wild
Indians could not be more uncouth on such an occasion!
_Marianne._--I doubt whether the wild Indians have any quiltings. But
go we must, as my father and mother at once accepted the invitation
for us.
_Charlotte._--How unlucky that they happened to be present!
* * * * *
The next day, between one and two o'clock, the Miss Glanvils saw
numerous young girls ride by on horseback, on their way to Andrew
Davison's which was about two miles from the iron works. "Now,"
remarked Marianne, "these poor girls must have hurried to get their
dinners over before twelve, that they might have time to be drest and
mounted by one o'clock."
"But why," asked Charlotte, "do they all wear striped linen skirts
with silk bodies and sleeves?"
"Oh!" replied Marianne, "you surely know that those are their
riding-skirts; a sort of petticoat made of thick homespun linen,
which they tie on over the skirts of their silk frocks to keep them
clean while riding."
"You seem to be well versed in all their ways," said Charlotte,
contemptuously.
It was five o'clock, however, before the Miss Glanvils were ready to
set out for the quilting, as Charlotte took her usual afternoon's
nap, and Marianne occupied two hours in dressing; arraying herself in
her straw-coloured palmyrene with lace sleeves, and ornamenting her
hair (which was a mass of curls) with a profusion of yellow flowers
and gauze ribbon. She put on all her jewels, and sewed her white kid
gloves to her lace sleeves, which were confined at the wrists with
three bracelets each. She had embroidered silk stockings, and white
satin shoes, and threw over her shoulders a splendid scarf of various
colours. This dress she had worn at a boarding school ball, shortly
before the family removed into the country. Nothing could be a
greater contrast than the appearance of the two sisters as they got
into the carriage; for Charlotte persevered in going to the quilting
in a pink gingham, her hair merely tucked behind her ears with two
side combs.
Their mother slightly disapproved of both their dresses, but as soon
as they were gone thought of something else.
In a short time the Miss Glanvils arrived at Andrew Davison's, and
found the quilting going on in the vast stone barn, which had been
put in order for the purpose. They were conducted to the barn by
young Davison, the farmer's eldest son, who had assisted them out of
the carriage, and were met at the entrance by Susan, who received
them with much respect, as being the two greatest strangers of the
party. The guests were all sitting round the quilting frame busily
at work. They looked with some surprise at the two sisters so very
differently habited, but no remark was made, even in a whisper.
Charlotte declined taking a chair at the frame, saying, she knew
nothing about quilting, and seated herself in a most inconvenient
place at the head of the quilt, very much in the way of a young girl
that could not draw out her arm in consequence of the vicinity of
Miss Glanvil, who saw that she incommoded her, but made no offer
to move. Marianne, however, advanced to the frame, and dislodging
three or four girls, who rose to make room for her and her immense
frock, which was flounced far above her knees, she took out of her
reticule an elegant little ivory work box, and laying down beside it
a perfumed and embroidered cambric handkerchief, and a tortoise-shell
fan, she most pompously set to work with her gloves on. She found
this way of quilting very inconvenient, and as her gloves could only
be taken off by ripping them from her sleeves, she begged, with an
air of the most condescending affability, to be excused from the
quilting; and then removed to a seat beside her sister. Charlotte
threw herself back in her chair, and putting her feet on the bars of
another, sat drumming with her fingers on the quilt and humming a
French song.
The other guests, though they all had too much civility to stare as
steadily as the Miss Glanvils expected, stole occasional glances
of surprise and curiosity at the sisters; one so overdrest and
affecting so much condescension, the other insulting them by coming
in dishabille, and setting at defiance even the most common rules of
politeness.
There sat at the quilt a very pretty young girl, with her dark hair
curling on her temples in natural ringlets. She wore a white muslin
frock, with a worked cape, and a broad pink ribbon on her neck,
which was beautifully white. Her figure was very good, though rather
plump than otherwise, and her cheeks had the bloom of roses. She
seemed to be acquainted with all the company, and talked pleasantly
and sensibly to every one, without any air of superiority, or any
affectation of graciousness. She quilted assiduously and neatly,
and assisted with great skill in the various operations of rolling,
stretching, and pinning the quilt. The sisters did not distinguish
and did not ask her surname, but they heard every one call her Fanny.
Shortly after the arrival of the Miss Glanvils, the two younger
daughters of farmer Davison, on a signal from their sister Susan,
went to a table which stood in a corner of the barn, and removing a
cloth which had been lightly thrown over it, disclosed several large
custards and three sorts of fruit pies, peach, plum, and apple.
The pastry being already cut up, was very soon transferred to as
many plates as there were guests, every plate containing a piece of
custard and three slices of pie, one of each sort.
These plates were handed to the company on small waiters, by Jane and
Mary Davison, while Susan remained near the quilt and invited her
guests to eat; every one being expected to taste all the varieties on
their plate. The Glanvils exchanged significant looks.
"Is it puff-paste?" said Charlotte, speaking for the first time, and
touching a piece of pie with the point of her knife.
"I believe not," replied Susan, colouring, "none of our family
understand making puff-paste; but I know mother did her best to have
this as short and crisp as possible. Please to try some of it."
"I thank you," answered Charlotte, coldly, "I am very careful of my
teeth, and I am afraid to risk their coming in contact with hard
substances."
She commenced on a piece of the plum pie, but pointedly avoided the
paste, eating out all the fruit, and conspicuously laying aside the
crust. Marianne, however, found the pastry so palatable, that she
could scarcely refrain from eating the whole that was on her plate,
and she was not surprised to overhear the young girl they called
Fanny, praising it to another who sat next to her.
The presence of the Miss Glanvils evidently threw a restraint on
the whole company, except Fanny, who, to the great surprise of the
sisters, appeared perfectly at her ease all the time, and not in the
least awed by their superiority.
"Who can that girl be?" whispered Marianne to Charlotte.
"Some vulgar thing like the rest," answered Charlotte.
"I do not think her vulgar," said Marianne.
"I know no reason for supposing her otherwise," rejoined Charlotte.
"You know the proverb, 'Birds of a feather flock together.' See how
familiar she is with all of them. She knows every one of their names.
She must have been born and brought up with them. By their talk she
has been here since two o'clock."
About sunset the quilt was completed. The chalk-marks, and the
clippings of thread, were then carefully brushed off; a dozen
scissors were employed in ripping it from the frame, and two dozen
hands afterwards spread it to the full size, and shook it till the
lofty roof of the barn echoed the sound; which sound brought in near
twenty young men who had been lingering about the barn-door for the
last half hour, none of them having courage to venture within, except
Susan Davison's two brothers. They were all clean shaved, and in
their best clothes; some even had their hair curled, and the Miss
Glanvils now found occasion to whisper and titter at the costume of
the country beaux, particularly at their very fine waistcoats.
Soon after, one of the little girls came to announce that supper
was ready, which intelligence was repeated by Susan to the Miss
Glanvils; and her two brothers now came forward, each with a low bow,
and offered their arms to conduct the young ladies to the house, as
they had been previously tutored by their sister. The Miss Glanvils,
however, took no notice of the offered arms, and the young men, much
abashed, walked silently beside them. Fanny, escorted by the old
farmer, who had accosted her at the barn-door with great cordiality,
joined about midway in the procession, and they all walked to the
house, where supper was set out in the largest room.
The table was of immense size, with at each end a waiter, containing
an equipage for tea and coffee; Mrs. Davison presiding at one and
Susan at the other. The centre ornament was a roast pig, flanked by
dishes of stewed fowls, and the rest of the table was covered with
plates of pound cake, gingerbread, short cakes, doughnuts, rusk,
preserves, apple-sauce, fried ham, cream-cheese, and sage-cheese;
there being always four plates of each particular article, that a
share of all the various good things might be within the reach of
every one at table. William and Thomas Davison, assisted by several
others of the least bashful and most alert of the young men, stood
behind the chairs with waiters in their hands, and helped the
females; their father being the only man that took a seat at the
table.
The Miss Glanvils sat together in solemn state; Marianne carefully
employed in defending her finery from the expected inroads of the
various things that were handed about in her neighbourhood; but very
much inclined to eat heartily of many of the tempting viands that
were before her, had she not been checked by the disapproving looks
of her sister.
It was with difficulty that Charlotte consented to be helped to any
thing, and uniformly after tasting it laid each article on the side
of her plate, as if unfit to eat. After she had taken a sip of tea
she drew back with a look of horror, and declaring it to be green
tea, and that she would not drink a cup of it for the world, she
pushed it away from her as far as possible.
She then requested some black tea, but unluckily there was none
in the house; and Mrs. Davison, much disconcerted, apologized in
great confusion, saying, that as black tea was not used in the
neighbourhood, she did not believe there was any to be had at the
store, or she would send and get some. She then asked if Miss Glanvil
would take a cup of coffee, but Charlotte replied that though
extravagantly fond of coffee in the morning, (always drinking three
cups,) she could not possibly touch it at night.
"Did you never drink green tea?" asked the farmer. "Certainly," she
replied in a disdainful tone, "I drank it always till black tea
became fashionable."
"Then," said the farmer, smiling, "if you have been drinking it all
your life till very lately, perhaps you might, if you were to try,
make out once more to swallow a cup of it on a pinch, and be none the
worse for it."
Charlotte looked much displeased, and sat back in her chair,
obstinately determined not to touch the green tea. Of course all the
Davison family felt and looked extremely uncomfortable, and they
would have been glad when the Miss Glanvils finally rose from table,
which they did shortly after, only that the rest of the company
thought it necessary to follow their example, and the feast prepared
with so much care and trouble was concluded in half the usual time.
The female guests were conducted to an adjoining room, while the
supper table was cleared away and then re-set exactly as before for
the young men.
Singing being proposed, Fanny was invited "to favour them with a
song." She consented at once, and inquired which of her songs they
would have. The simple and beautiful Scotch air of the Bonnie Boat
was named, and she sung it with a sweet clear voice and excellent
taste, though no attempt at ornament. The Miss Glanvils exchanged
glances and whispers.
The two young ladies were then respectfully requested to sing.
Charlotte refused at once, declaring that it was impossible to sing
without an instrument: but Marianne, eager to display her knowledge
of fashionable music, complied readily, and gave "Una voce poco
fa," with what she considered wonderful execution. As soon as she
had finished, Charlotte perceiving that the company, though greatly
amazed at first, had become much fatigued by this unseasonable
exhibition of Italian singing, and that it had not given the least
pleasure to any one, ill-naturedly proposed to her sister to try
"Di piacer," which she also got through, to the great annoyance
of the young men who had long before come in from the supper room,
and who were certainly not of a class to relish such songs as are
unintelligible to all but the initiated.
A black man now appeared with a fiddle, and took his seat in one
of the windows; there was a reinforcement of beaux, and the Miss
Glanvils found that a dance was to be the next amusement. Marianne
remarked, in a group of young men that had just entered the room, one
of remarkably genteel appearance and extremely handsome. "Charlotte,"
said she, "look at that young gentleman in black, talking to Tom
Davison."
"I see no _gentleman_ in the room," replied Charlotte, "and I do not
know Tom Davison from the other clowns."
"Oh! but this, I am certain, is really a gentleman," said Marianne,
"I wish he would ask me to dance."
"What!" exclaimed Charlotte, "would you actually join in a dance with
these people? Could you stand up with them and give them your hand?
And above all things, would you make one in a _country-dance_, for of
course they know nothing about cotillions?"
"Yes I would," answered Marianne, "with such a partner as that young
gentleman in black. And then, when they see _my_ French steps, how
ashamed they will be of their own shuffling and prancing."
Just then, Tom Davison, observing Marianne's eyes fixed with evident
approbation on the stranger in black, brought him up and introduced
him to her as Captain Selman; and on his requesting the pleasure of
dancing with her, she immediately consented with great satisfaction.
Tom Davison then, with a low bow and a look of much embarrassment,
ventured to make the same request of Charlotte, who refused with an
air of such unequivocal contempt, that the youth determined in his
own mind to leave her to herself for the remainder of the evening.
The musician made three scrapes on his fiddle as a signal for every
one to take their places. "Of course," said Marianne, "we go to the
top," and Captain Selman led her to the head of the country dance
that was forming, while she lamented to him the sad necessity of
being obliged to join in such a dance, saying that she must depend
on him to give her some idea of the figure; and adding that he would
find her an apt scholar, as she was always considered very quick at
learning every thing.
The musician gave a loud stamp with his foot, and then struck up
New-Jersey; but observing that Charlotte stopped her ears in horror,
Marianne begged of her partner to go and ask the man if he could not
play something less barbarous. The man replied that New-Jersey was
the dancing tune he was most used to, but that he could play the
Morning Star and Fisher's Hornpipe quite as well. Marianne said that
she had heard her mother speak of dancing these things when she was
a girl, and therefore she was sure they must be abominable.
At last, after much sending of Captain Selman backwards and forwards,
and proposing tunes which she knew the poor fiddler had never even
heard of, it was ascertained that he thought he could play "The
Campbells are coming," having _catched_ it, as he said, the last time
he was in town.
Captain Selman undertook to instruct the company in the figure, which
he did with great good humour, and they actually learnt it with a
quickness that surprised Marianne. She went down the dance exhibiting
all her most difficult steps, and affecting a wonderful gracefulness
in every motion. However, when she got to the bottom, suspecting
that this display had not excited quite as much admiration as she
had expected, she professed great fatigue, and threw herself into a
chair, declaring she could not dance another step; and knowing that
in consequence Captain Selman could do no less than stand by and
converse with her till the set was over.
"I do not see Susan Davison dancing," said Marianne, "she has been
sitting all the time beside my sister. She is rather a pretty girl; I
wonder none of the young men have taken her out."
"I made my bow to her soon after I came in," replied the Captain,
"but she declines dancing this evening, alleging that, being in her
own house, she is unwilling to take a place that might be occupied
by one of her friends."
"I suppose," said Marianne, abruptly, "your next partner will
be the young person they call Fanny, as she is certainly rather
well-looking. There she is, about the middle of the dance, with a
broad pink ribbon round her neck. Indeed, though my sister is of a
contrary opinion, I should be almost inclined to think this Fanny
something of a lady, only that she is so sociable with these people.
To be sure, I have tried myself to be affable this evening, but
I find it such an irksome task that I believe it will be my last
attempt. Now it seems quite natural to this said Fanny, which proves,
as my sister Charlotte says, that she is in reality no better than
the rest. We think she must be the daughter of one of these country
store-keepers, and that she has now and then had the benefit of a
fortnight's polishing in the city, while her father was buying his
spring goods."
Captain Selman smiled, and was going to reply, when Charlotte joined
them, saying in a most peevish voice, "Marianne, do you intend
staying here all night? If you do, you must stay by yourself. I have
just heard our carriage drive up, for I charged William to come for
us early, and I am dying to get away."
Marianne, who would willingly have stayed longer, was about to
remonstrate, but finding that the Captain had escaped from her side,
she felt less reluctant to go. Charlotte made her exit without
ceremony, but Marianne purposely loitered till the dance was over,
that she might make her departure the more conspicuous, and produce a
great effect by her elegant manner of taking leave. She then walked
up to Mrs. Davison, and overwhelming the good woman with curtseyings,
bowings, compliments and flourishes, she left the room, accompanied
by Susan, to the chamber in which their shawls and calashes had been
deposited.
They were put into the carriage by Tom Davison, as his last effort
of civility. And it was resolved next day by the family in council,
that the Miss Glanvils should on no future occasion be invited; for,
as Mrs. Davison remarked, they held their heads quite too high, and
their airs were unbearable.
As they drove home, Charlotte, in the most unqualified terms,
expressed her disgust at the quilting-party, and every thing
connected with it. Marianne acknowledged that the whole concern, as
she called it, was very ungenteel, but still not quite so bad as
she had expected. She said that in her opinion Captain Selman would
be presentable even in good society, and expressed her surprise at
finding an officer at a quilting.
"Pho," said Charlotte, "he is only a militia captain, of course."
"No," replied Marianne, "I am very sure he is no such thing. If he
were a militia officer, he would undoubtedly have come to the party
in full uniform, booted and spurred, with epaulette, and chapeau and
feather, his sword at his side, and his sash spread out over his body
as broad as possible, and pinned up in a peak before and behind, as
I have heard my mother describe their costume. No, no; this officer
is in the regular army, and from something he said, I know he was
educated at West Point."
"Well," said Charlotte, "I doubt his being a man of fashion after
all. I observed him, after he left you, speaking familiarly to that
Fanny as if they were well acquainted. However, he did not seem to
ask her to dance, but he paid that compliment to one that sat near
the door, a poor bashful-looking girl, the worst dressed and least
attractive in the room."
The next day but one was Sunday. The church, which was about three
miles off, had been shut up, undergoing repairs ever since Mr.
Glanvil had removed to the iron-works, but it was now again opened
for worship, and the Glanvil family all repaired thither in their
carriage. On this occasion, Charlotte was as elegantly drest as
her sister; for having satisfied her perverseness by going in
_dishabille_ to the quilting, she determined now to astonish the
congregation by a great display of finery at church.
As they passed up the middle aisle, the eyes of the Miss Glanvils
were attracted immediately to a handsome pew near the pulpit; in
which pew they saw Captain Selman, accompanied by Fanny, and an
elderly gentleman and lady, both of remarkably genteel and dignified
appearance. The two sisters, at the same moment, pulled each other's
sleeves significantly. They thought the service very long, and as
soon as church was over, Marianne asked her father if he knew the
occupants of the pew that was lined with blue moreen. He replied,
"They are the governor and his family. They have been travelling all
summer, and only returned last week. I called yesterday to see them
as I passed their house, which is about five miles from ours." "Is
it possible," exclaimed Charlotte, "that Fanny can be the governor's
daughter!" "Is Captain Selman the governor's son?" cried Marianne.
"No," replied Mr. Glanvil. "The governor's name, you know, is
Milford. Captain Selman is the son of Mrs. Milford's first marriage,
and Miss Fanny Milford is his half-sister."
At the church-gate the governor's carriage was waiting beside Mr.
Glanvil's, and Mr. Milford stopped with his family to introduce them
to Mrs. Glanvil and her daughters. The Miss Glanvils looked much
embarrassed. Charlotte was ashamed that Miss Milford should have
witnessed her unamiable behaviour at the quilting, and Marianne was
shocked at recollecting the freedom with which she had talked to
Captain Selman of his step-sister. Their confusion was so evident,
that the Captain and Fanny, when introduced to the Miss Glanvils,
avoided making any allusion to having met them at farmer Davison's.
But little was said on either side, and the disconcerted sisters were
glad to take refuge in the carriage.