lady had completed her purchases, and had been persuaded by Mr.
Stretchlace to take several additional articles, she found, on examining
her purse, that she had nearly exhausted its contents, and that even
with putting all her small change together, she still wanted one cent.
Mr. Stretchlace assured her that he considered a cent as of no
consequence; but Selina, who had been brought up in the strictest ideas
of integrity, replied that, as she had agreed to pay as much for the
article as he had asked her, she could not allow him to lose a single
farthing. Mr. Stretchlace smiled, and reminded her that she could easily
stop in and give him the cent, at any time when she happened to be
passing his store. Selina, recollecting her father's rule of never going
in debt to a shopkeeper, even to the most trifling amount, proposed
leaving a pair of gloves (her last purchase) till she came again. Mr.
Robertson, to put an end to the difficulty, took a cent from his purse,
and requested permission to lend it to Miss Mansel. Selina coloured, but
after some hesitation accepted the loan, resolving to repay it
immediately. Having this intention on her mind, she was rather glad when
she found that Mr. Robertson intended walking home with her, as it would
give her an opportunity of liquidating the debt--and he entertained her
on the way with the history of a transaction in uplands, and another in
sea-islands.
They arrived at Mr. Mansel's door, and her companion was taking his
leave, when Selina, thinking only of the cent, asked him if he would not
come in. Of course, she had no motive but to induce him to wait till she
had procured the little coin in question. He found the invitation too
flattering to be resisted, and smirkingly followed her into the front
parlour. Selina was disappointed at not finding her father there.
Desiring Mr. Robertson to excuse her for a moment, she went to her own
room in quest of some change--but found nothing less than a five dollar
note.
A young lady of more experience and more self-possession, would, at
once, have thought of extricating herself from the dilemma by applying
to one of the servants for the loan of a cent; but at this time no such
idea entered Selina's head. Therefore, calling Ovid, her black man, she
despatched him with the note to get changed, and then returned herself
to the parlour.
Taking her seat near the centre-table, Selina endeavoured to engage her
guest in conversation, lest he should go away without his money. But,
too little accustomed to the world and its contingencies to feel at all
at her ease on this occasion, not having courage to mention the cent,
and afraid every moment that Mr. Robertson would rise to take his leave,
she became more and more embarrassed, sat uneasily on her chair, kept
her eyes on the floor, except when she stole glances at her visiter to
see if he showed any symptoms of departure, and looked frequently
towards the door, hoping the arrival of Ovid.
Unconscious of what she was doing, our heroine took a camellia japonica
from a vase that stood on the table, and having smelled it a dozen
times (though it is a flower that has no perfume) she began to pick it
to pieces. Mr. Robertson stopped frequently in the midst of a long story
about a speculation in sperm oil, his attention being continually
engaged by the evident perturbation of the young lady. But when he saw
her picking to pieces the camellia which she had pressed to her nose and
to her lips, he was taken with a sudden access of gallantry, and
stalking up to her, and awkwardly stretching out his hand at arm's
length, he said, in a voice intended to be very sweet--"Miss Mansel,
will you favour me with that flower?"
Selina, not thinking of what she did, hastily dropped the camellia into
his out-spread palm, and ran to meet her servant Ovid, whom she saw at
that moment coming into the house. She stopped him in the hall, and
eagerly held out her hand, while Ovid slowly and carefully counted into
it, one by one, ten half dollars, telling her that he had been nearly
all over town with the note, as "change is always _scace_ of an
afternoon."
"How vexatious!" said Selina, in a low voice--"You have brought me no
cents. It was particularly a cent that I wanted--a cent above all
things. Did I not tell you so?--I am sure I thought I did."
Ovid persisted in declaring that she had merely desired him to get the
note changed, and that he thought "nobody needn't wish for better change
than all big silver,"--but feeling in his pocket, he said "he believed,
if Miss Selina would let him, he could lend her a cent." However, after
searching all his pockets, he found only a quarter of a dollar. "But,"
added he, "I can go in the kitchen and ax if the women hav'n't got no
coppers. Ah! Miss Selina--your departed aunt always kept her pocket
full."
Selina then desired him to go immediately and inquire for a cent among
the women. She then returned to the parlour, and Mr. Robertson, having
nothing more to say, rose to take his leave. During her absence from the
room, he had torn off the back of a letter, folded in it the
half-demolished camellia japonica, and deposited it in his waistcoat
pocket.
Selina begged him to stay a few minutes longer, and she went into the
kitchen to inquire in person about the cent.
"Apparently," thought Robertson, "she finds it hard to part with me. And
certainly she _has_ seemed confused and agitated, during the whole of my
visit."
On making her inquiry among the denizens of the kitchen, Selina found
that none of the women had any probable coppers, excepting Violet, the
black cook, who was fat and lame, and who intended, as soon as she had
done making some cakes for tea, to ascend to her attic, and search for
one among her hoards.
"La! Miss Selina," said Violet, "what can put you in such a pheeze about
a cent?"
"I have borrowed a cent of Mr. Robertson," replied Selina, "and I wish
to return it immediately."
"Well, now, if ever!" exclaimed Violet; "why, if that's all, I count it
the same as nothing, and samer. To be sure he is too much of a gentleman
to take a cent from a lady. Why, what's a cent?"
"I hope," replied Selina, "that he is too much of a gentleman to
_refuse_ to take it."
"I lay you what you please," resumed Violet, "that if you go to offer
him that cent, you'll 'front him out of the house. Why, when any of us
borrows a copper of Ovid, we never thinks of paying him."
"True enough," said Ovid, half aside; "and that's the reason I most
always take care never to have no coppers about me."
Selina now heard her father's voice in the parlour; and glad that he had
come home, she hastened to obtain from him the much-desired coin. She
found him earnestly engaged in discussing the Bank of the United States
to Mr. Robertson, who was on the verge of departure. She went softly
behind her father, and in a low voice asked him for a cent; but he was
talking so busily that he did not hear her. She repeated the request.
"Presently--presently," said Mr. Mansel, "another time will do as well."
Mr. Robertson then made his parting bow to Selina, who, disconcerted at
being baffled in all her attempts to get rid of her little debt,
coloured excessively, and could not make an articulate reply to his
"Good afternoon, Miss Mansel."
When her father returned from escorting his guest to the door, he
recollected her request, and said--"What were you asking me, Selina? I
think I heard you say something about money. But never interrupt me when
I am talking of the bank."
Selina then made her explanation.
"You know," replied Mr. Mansel, "that I have always told you to avoid a
debt as you would a sin; and I have also cautioned you never to allow
yourself to be without all the varieties of small change."
He then gave her a handful of this convenient article, including half a
dozen cents, saying, "There, now, do not forget to pay Mr. Robertson the
first time you see him."
"Certainly, I will not forget it," replied Selina; "for, trifle as it
is, I shall not feel at peace while it remains on my mind."
On the following afternoon Selina went out with her father to take a
ride on horseback; and when they returned they found on the centre table
the card of John W. Robertson. "Another _contre-tems_," cried Selina.
"He has been here again, and I have not seen him to pay him the cent!"
"Send it to him by Ovid," said Mr. Mansel.
"_Send_ such a trifle to a gentleman!" exclaimed Selina.
"Certainly," replied her father. "Even in the smallest trifles, it is
best to be correct and punctual. You know I have always told you so."
Selina left the room for the purpose of despatching Ovid with the cent,
but Ovid had gone out on some affairs of his own, and when she returned
to the parlour she found two young ladies there, whose visit was not
over till nearly dusk. By that time Ovid was engaged in setting the
tea-table; a business from which nothing could ever withdraw him till
all its details were slowly and minutely accomplished.
"It will be time enough after tea," said Selina, who, like most young
housekeepers, was somewhat in awe of her servants. When tea was over
both in parlour and kitchen (and by the members of the lower house that
business was never accomplished without a long session), Ovid was
despatched to the hotel with "Miss Mansel's compliments to Mr.
Robertson, and the cent that she had borrowed of him." It was long
before Ovid came back, and he then brought word that Mr. Robertson was
out, but that he had left the cent with Mr. Muddler, the barkeeper.
"Of course," said Selina, "the barkeeper will give it to Mr. Robertson
as soon as he returns."
"I have my doubts," replied Ovid.
"Why?" asked Selina; "why should you suppose otherwise?"
"Because," answered Ovid, "Mr. Muddler is a very doubty sort of man.
That is, he's always to be doubted of. I lived at the hotel once, and I
know all about him. He don't mind trifles, and he never remembers
nothing. I guess Mr. Robertson won't be apt to get the cent: for afore I
left the bar, I saw Muddler give it away in change to a man that came
for a glass of punch. And I'm sure that Muddler won't never think no
more about it. I could be as good as qualified that he won't."
"How very provoking!" cried Selina.
"You should have sealed it up in a piece of paper, and directed it to
Mr. Robertson," said her father, raising his eyes from the newspaper in
which he had been absorbed for the last hour. "Whatever is to be done at
all, should always be done thoroughly."
"Yes, miss," said Ovid, "you know that's what your departed aunt always
told you: partikaly when you were stoning reasons for plum-cake."
Selina was now at a complete loss what course to pursue. The cent was in
itself a trifle; but there had been so much difficulty about it, that it
seemed to have swelled into an object of importance: and from this time
her repugnance to speaking of it to Mr. Robertson, or to any one else,
became almost insurmountable.
On the following morning, her father told her that he had met Mr.
Robertson at the Post Office, and had been told by him that he should do
himself the pleasure of making a morning call. "Therefore, Selina, I
shall leave you to entertain him," said Mr. Mansel, "for I have made an
appointment with Mr. Thinwall this morning, to go with him to look at a
block of houses he is anxious to sell me."
Selina repaired to her room to get her sewing: and taking a cent from
her purse, she laid it in her work-basket and went down stairs to be
ready for the visit of Mr. Robertson. While waiting for him, she
happened to look at the cent, and perceived that it was one of the very
earliest coinage, the date being 1793. She had heard these cents
described, but had never before seen one. The head of Liberty was
characterized by the lawless freedom of her hair, the flakes of which
were all flying wildly back from her forehead and cheek, and seemed to
be blowing away in a strong north-wester; and she carried over her
shoulder a staff surmounted with a cap. On the reverse, there was
(instead of the olive wreath) a circular chain, whose links signified
the union of the States. Our heroine was making a collection of curious
coins, and she was so strongly tempted by the opportunity of adding this
to the number, that she determined on keeping it for that purpose. She
was just rising to go up stairs and get another as a substitute, when
Mr. Robertson entered the parlour.
Selina was glad to see him, hoping that this visit would make a final
settlement of the eternal cent. But she was also struck with the idea
that it would be very awkward to ask him if the barkeeper had given him
the one she had transmitted to him the evening before. She feared that
the gentleman might reply in the affirmative, even if he had not really
received it, and she felt a persuasion that it had entirely escaped the
memory of Mr. Muddler. Not having sufficient self-possession to help her
out of the difficulty, she hastily slipped the old cent back into her
work-basket, and looked confused and foolish, and answered incoherently
to Mr. Robertson's salutation. He saw her embarrassment, and augured
favourably from it: but he cautiously determined not to allow himself to
proceed too rapidly.
He commenced the conversation by informing her that sugars had declined
a shade, but that coffee was active, and cotton firm; and he then prosed
off into a long mercantile story, of which Selina heard and understood
nothing: her ideas, when in presence of Mr. Robertson, being now unable
to take any other form than that of a piece of copper.
Longing to go for another cent, and regretting that she had not brought
down her purse, she sat uneasy and disconcerted: the delighted Robertson
pausing in the midst of his tierces of rice, seroons of indigo, carboys
of tar, and quintals of codfish, to look at the heightened colour of her
cheek, and to give it the interpretation he most desired.
Selina had never thought him so tiresome. Just then came in Miss
Peepabout and Miss Doublesight, who, having seen Mr. Robertson through
the window, had a curiosity to ascertain what he was saying and doing at
Mr. Mansel's. These two ladies were our hero's peculiar aversion, as
they had both presumed to lay siege to him, notwithstanding that they
were neither young nor handsome. Therefore, he rose immediately and took
his leave: though Selina, in the hope of still finding an opportunity to
discharge her debt, said to him, anxiously: "Do not go yet, Mr.
Robertson." This request nearly elevated the lover to paradise, but not
wishing to spoil her by too much compliance, he persevered in departing.
That evening Selina met him at a party given by Mrs. Vincent, one of the
leading ladies of Somerford. Thinking of this possibility, and the idea
of Mr. Robertson and a cent having now become synonymous, our heroine
tied a bright new one in the corner of her pocket-handkerchief,
determined to go fully prepared for an opportunity of presenting it to
him. When, on arriving at Mrs. Vincent's house, she was shown to the
ladies' room, Selina discovered that the cent had vanished, having
slipped out from its fastening; and after an ineffectual search on the
floor and on the staircase, she concluded that she must have dropped it
in the street. The night was very fine, and Mrs. Vincent's residence was
so near her father's, that Selina had walked thither, and Mr. Mansel
(who had no relish for parties), after conducting her into the principal
room, and paying his compliments to the hostess, had slipped off, and
returned home to seek a quiet game of backgammon with his next-door
neighbour, telling his daughter that he would come for her at eleven
o'clock.
Our heroine was dressed with much taste, and looked unusually well. Mr.
Robertson's inclination would have led him to attach himself to Selina
for the whole evening; but convinced of the depth and sincerity of her
regard (as he perceived that she now never saw him without blushing), he
deemed it politic to hold back, and not allow himself to be considered
too cheap a conquest. Therefore, after making his bow, and informing her
that soap was heavy, but that raisins were animated, and that there was
a good feeling towards Havana cigars, he withdrew to the opposite side
of the room.
But though he divided his tediousness pretty equally among the other
ladies, he could not prevent his eyes from wandering almost incessantly
towards Selina, particularly when he perceived a remarkably handsome
young man, Henry Wynslade, engaged in a very lively conversation with
her. Mr. Wynslade, who had recently returned from India, lodged, for the
present, at the hotel in which Robertson had located himself;
consequently, our hero had some acquaintance with him.
Mrs. Vincent having taken away Wynslade to introduce him to her niece,
Mr. Robertson immediately strode across the room, and presented himself
in front of Selina. To do him justice, he had entirely forgotten the
cent: and he meant not the most distant allusion to it, when, at the end
of a long narrative about a very close and fortunate bargain he had once
made in rough turpentine, he introduced the well-known adages of "a
penny saved is a penny got," and "take care of the pence and the pounds
will take care of themselves."
"Pence and cents are nearly the same," thought the conscious Selina. She
had on her plate some of the little printed rhymes that, being
accompanied by bonbons, and enveloped in coloured paper, go under the
denomination of secrets or mottoes. These delectable distichs were most
probably the leisure effusions of the poet kept by Mr. and Mrs.
Packwood, of razor-strop celebrity, and from their ludicrous silliness
frequently cause much diversion among the younger part of the company.
In her confusion on hearing Mr. Robertson talk of pence, Selina began to
distribute her mottoes among the ladies in her vicinity, and, without
looking at it, she unthinkingly presented one to her admirer, as he
stood stiff before her. A moment after he was led away by Mr. Vincent,
to be introduced to a stranger: and in a short time the company
adjourned to the supper-room.
The ladies were all seated, and the gentlemen were standing round, and
Selina was not aware of her proximity to Mr. Robertson till she
overheard him say to young Wynslade--"A most extraordinary circumstance
has happened to me this evening."
"What is it?" cried Wynslade.
"I have received a declaration."
"A declaration! Of what?"
"I have indeed," pursued Robertson, "a declaration of love. To be sure,
I have been somewhat prepared for it. When a lady blushes, and shows
evident signs of confusion, whenever she meets a gentleman, there is
good reason to believe that her heart is really touched. Is there not?"
"I suppose so," said Wynslade, smiling.
"You conclude then that the lady must love him for himself, and not for
his property?" inquired Robertson.
"Ladies who are influenced only by mercenary considerations," replied
Wynslade, "seldom feel much embarrassment in the presence of any
gentleman."
"There is no forcing a blush--is there?" asked Robertson.
"I should think not," answered Wynslade, wondering to what all this
would tend.
"To tell you a secret," resumed Robertson, "I have proof positive that I
have made a serious impression on a very beautiful young lady. You need
not smile, Mr. Wynslade, for I can show you something that was presented
to me the other day by herself, after first pressing it repeatedly to
her lips."
He then took out of his waistcoat pocket the paper that contained the
remnant of the camellia japonica, adding, "I can assure you that this
flower was given me by the prettiest girl in the room."
The eyes of Wynslade were involuntarily directed to Selina.
"You are right," resumed Robertson. "That is the very lady, Miss Selina
Mansel."
"Can it be possible!" exclaimed Wynslade. "Is this the lady that blushes
at you? Did _she_ give you the flower?"
"Yes, she did," replied Robertson. "A true bill, I assure you. The
flower was her gift, and she has just presented me with a piece of
poetry that is still more pointed. And yet, between ourselves, I think
it strange that so young a lady should not have had patience to wait for
a declaration on my part. I wonder that she should be the first to break
the ice. However, I suppose it is only a stronger evidence of her
partiality."
"And what are you going to do?" asked Wynslade.
"Oh! I shall take her," answered Robertson. "At least I think I shall.
To be sure, I have been so short a time in Somerford, that I have
scarcely yet had an opportunity of ascertaining the state of the market.
But, besides her being an only child, with a father that is likely to
come down handsomely, she is very young and very pretty, and will in
every respect suit me exactly. However, I shall proceed with due
circumspection. It is bad policy to be too alert on these occasions. It
will be most prudent to keep her in suspense awhile."
"Insufferable coxcomb!" thought Wynslade. However, he checked his
contempt and indignation so far as to say with tolerable calmness--"Mr.
Robertson, there must be certainly some mistake. Before I went to India,
I knew something of Miss Mansel and her family, and I reproach myself
for not having sought to renew my acquaintance with them immediately on
my return. She was a mere child when I last saw her before my departure.
Still, I know from the manner in which she has been brought up, that it
is utterly impossible she should have given you any real cause to
suspect her of a partiality, which, after all, you seem incapable of
appreciating."
"Suspect!" exclaimed Robertson, warmly; "suspect, indeed! Blushes and
confusion you acknowledge to be certain signs. And then there is the
flower--and then--"
"Where is the piece of poetry you talked of?" said Wynslade.
"Here," replied Robertson, showing him the motto--"here it is--read--and
confess it to be proof positive."
Wynslade took the slip, and read on it--
"To gain a look of your sweet face,
I'd walk three times round the market-place."
"Ridiculous!" he exclaimed, as he returned the couplet to Robertson, the
course of his ideas changing in a moment. The whole affair now appeared
to him in so ludicrous a light that he erroneously imagined Selina to
have been all the time diverting herself at Mr. Robertson's expense. He
looked towards her with a smile of intelligence, and was surprised to
find that she had set down her almost untasted ice-cream, and was
changing colour, from red to pale, evidently overwhelmed with confusion.
"There," said Robertson, looking significantly from Selina to Wynslade,
"I told you so--only see her cheeks. No doubt she has overheard all we
have been saying."
Selina had, indeed, overheard the whole; for notwithstanding the talking
of the ladies who were near her, her attention had been the whole time
riveted to the conversation that was going on between Robertson and
Wynslade. Her first impulse was to quit her seat, to go at once to
Robertson, and to explain to him his mistake. But she felt the
difficulty of making such an effort in a room full of company, and to
the youthful simplicity of her mind that difficulty was enhanced by the
want of a cent to put into his hand at the same time.
Still, she was so extremely discomfited, that every moment seemed to her
an age till she could have an opportunity of undeceiving him. She sat
pale and silent till Robertson stepped up and informed her that she
seemed quite below par; and Wynslade, who followed him, observed that
"Miss Mansel was probably incommoded by the heat of the room."
"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed, scarcely conscious of what she was saying; "it
is, indeed, too warm--and here is such a crowd--and I am so fatigued--I
wish it were eleven o'clock--I wish my father was here to take me home."
Both gentlemen at once volunteered their services; but Selina, struck
with the idea that during their walk she should have a full opportunity
of making her explanation to Mr. Robertson, immediately started up, and
said she would avail herself of _his_ offer. Robertson now cast a
triumphant glance at Wynslade, who returned it with a look of disgust,
and walked away, saying to himself, "What an incomprehensible being is
woman!--I begin to despise the whole sex!"
Selina then took leave of her hostess, and in a few minutes found
herself on her way home with Mr. Robertson.
"Mr. Robertson," said she, in a hurried voice, "I have something
particular to say to you."
"Now it is coming," thought Robertson; "but I will take care not to meet
her half way." Then speaking aloud--"It is a fine moonlight evening,"
said he: "that is probably what you are going to observe."
"You are under a serious mistake," continued Selina.
"I believe not," pursued Robertson, looking up. "The sky is quite clear,
and the moon is at the full."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Selina.
"I am fond of moonlight," persisted Robertson; "and I am extremely
flattered at your giving me an opportunity of enjoying it with you."
Here he stopped short, fearing that he had said too much.
"My only motive," said Selina, "for accepting your offer of escorting me
home, was that I might have an opportunity of explaining to you." Here
she paused.
"Take your time, Miss Selina," said Robertson, trying to soften his
voice. "I do not wish you to hurry yourself. I can wait very well for
the explanation till to-morrow."