PRIDE OF CASTE.
Nearly a month had elapsed since the arrival of the Virginia in the
harbor of New Orleans, and still Adelaide Horton and Cora Leslie had
not met.
The young creole, generous-hearted as she was, had never felt the same
affection for her old school-fellow since the fatal revelation made by
Silas Craig. It was in vain that the generosity of her nature would
have combated with the prejudices of her education; pride of caste was
the stronger, and she could not but despise Cora, the lovely descendant
of slaves. In the meantime the two girls had ceased to meet. The nature
of Adelaide Horton was capricious, and volatile, and, in a few days,
she had almost dismissed Cora's image from her memory.
Indolent, like all creoles, Adelaide spent the greater part of
her days in a rocking-chair, reading a novel, while fanned by her
favorite slave, Myra. Mortimer Percy was, as we know, by no means the
most attentive of lovers, although living in the same house as that
occupied by his fair cousin. He saw her but seldom, and then evinced an
indifference and listlessness which often wounded the volatile girl.
"How weary and careless he is," she thought; "how different to Gilbert
Margrave, the artist, the poet, the enthusiast!"
Alas, Adelaide, beware of that love which is given without return!
Beware of the bitter humiliation of finding that he whom you have
secretly admired and reverenced--he whose image you have set upon the
altar of your heart, and have worshipped in the sanctity of silence and
of dreaming--that even he, the idol, the beloved, looks on you with
indifference, while another usurps the earnest devotion of his poet
soul.
Adelaide Horton had ample time for indulgence in those waking dreams
which are often so dangerous. A school-girl, young, romantic and
frivolous, ignorant of the harsh ways of the world, she built fair
castles in the air--ideal palaces in a lovely dreamland, which were
only too soon to be shattered to the ground.
Gilbert Margrave came to New Orleans armed with those brilliant schemes
of inventions in machinery, which might, as he fondly hoped, supersede
slave labor, though not militating against the employment of the many.
He came well furnished with letters of introduction from powerful men
in England to planters and merchants of New Orleans; but though he met
with much politeness and hospitality the Louisianians shrugged their
shoulders and shook their heads when he revealed his opinions and tried
to win their approval of his plans. They looked upon the handsome young
engineer with a feeling something akin to pity. He was an enthusiast,
and, like all enthusiasts, no doubt a little of a madman.
One of the first houses at which Gilbert Margrave presented himself was
that of Augustus Horton. He found Adelaide and her aunt alone in their
favorite morning room; one lounging in her rocking-chair, the other, as
usual, busy at an embroidery frame.
The young creole looked very pretty in her loose and floating morning
robe of India muslin, richly trimmed with Valenciennes lace and
peach-colored ribbons. Her hair was arranged in clusters of short
ringlets, which trembled in the summer breeze, wafted in through the
Venetian blinds of the veranda.
As the name of Gilbert Margrave was announced, the animated girl sprang
from her easy-chair, and, flinging down her book ran forward to receive
the long-looked-for visitor.
"At last!" she exclaimed. "I was sure you would come, but I have looked
out for you so anxiously--I mean we all have," she added, blushing.
"A thousand thanks for your kind welcome, Miss Horton. Believe me, your
house is one of the very first to which I have directed my steps."
"How good of you to remember us."
"Say rather how selfish," replied Gilbert. "Do you think it is no
happiness, in a foreign country, to find one circle at least where one
is not a stranger?"
"Nay, Mr. Margrave," said Mrs. Montresor; "will you not call us a
circle of friends?"
"But pray sit down," exclaimed Adelaide, pointing to a low chair near
a stand of perfumed exotics in one of the windows, "sit down and tell
us all your adventures by land and sea, especially the latter, and how
you have survived the hair-breadth 'scapes and ventures of the briny
Atlantic."
Gilbert Margrave told, in a few words, the particulars of his voyage,
which had been a rapid and pleasant one; "so rapid a passage," he
continued with a smile, "that I trust I am yet in time to assist at the
wedding of Miss Horton and my old friend Mortimer Percy."
A shade of vexation crossed Adelaide's pretty face.
"I really do not see," she said, "why all the world should be in such a
hurry for this marriage. There is surely time enough. One would think
I was in danger of becoming an old maid, or else that everybody was
desirous of getting rid of me."
"I do not think there is much fear of either contingency," replied
Gilbert, laughing.
"The truth is, Mr. Margrave," said Mrs. Montresor, "that my dear
Adelaide is a spoiled child, and because her cousin happens to be a
very sensible, high-principled young man, but not exactly a hero of
romance, she thinks herself called upon to affect a contempt for him.
But I know her better than she knows herself, and I am certain that,
at the bottom of her heart, she cherishes a very sincere affection for
Mortimer."
"How can you know what's at the bottom of my heart, when I don't know
myself, aunt Lucy?" exclaimed Adelaide, impatiently; "upon my word, I
think no girl was ever so cruelly used as I have been. Other people
make up a marriage for me, other people tell me whom I love, when I
ought to know a deal better than they do. It's really shameful!"
If the real cause of Adelaide's indignation could have been known,
it would have been discovered that her anger was not so much aroused
against her aunt as against Gilbert Margrave, for the indifferent
manner in which he had spoken of her approaching marriage.
Anxious to quell the storm, of which he little knew himself to be the
cause, the young engineer endeavored to turn the conversation, and in
order to do so, he asked a question which had been trembling on his
lips from the very first.
"Your friend, Miss Leslie," he said; "the star of your farewell
assembly--you often see her, I suppose, Miss Horton?"
Gilbert Margrave little knew that this very question only added fuel to
the fire already raging in the breast of the impetuous girl.
"I have never seen Cora Leslie since our arrival in New Orleans," she
answered, coldly.
"Indeed! But I thought you such intimate friends. Miss Leslie--she is
not ill, I hope?"
His evident anxiety about Cora terribly irritated Adelaide Horton.
"That question I cannot answer. I know nothing whatever of Miss Leslie;
for I repeat, we have not met since we reached America."
"May I ask why this is so, Miss Horton?"
"Because Cora Leslie is no fit associate for the daughter of Edward
Horton."
The blood rushed in a crimson torrent to the face of the young
engineer. He started from his seat as if he had been shot.
"In Heaven's name, Miss Horton," he exclaimed, "what would you
insinuate; surely nothing against the honor of--"
"I insinuate nothing, Mr. Margrave," answered Adelaide. "I simply tell
you that the--the person of whom you speak is no companion for me.
Whatever friendship, once existed between us is henceforth forever at
an end--Cora Leslie is a slave!"
A choking sensation had risen to the throat of the young engineer
during this speech. Unutterable anguish had possessed him at the
thought that he perhaps was about to hear of some stain upon the
character of Cora. What, then, was his relief at finding how much he
had wronged her purity, even by that fear?
"A slave!" he replied.
"Yes; African blood flows in her veins. She has never been emancipated;
she is, therefore, as much a slave as the negroes upon her father's
plantation."
"I was led to believe something to this effect on the very night of
your aunt's ball in Grosvenor Square, Miss Horton. So far from this
circumstance lessening my respect for Miss Leslie, I feel that it
is rather exalted thereby into a sentiment of reverence. She is no
longer simply a beautiful woman; she henceforth becomes the lovely
representative of an oppressed people."
"Your opinions are rather Quixotic, Mr. Margrave," replied Adelaide,
with a sneer; "and I fear you will find yourself almost in as painful
a position as the Spanish knight, if you venture to make them known in
New Orleans."
"Whatever danger I may incur of being either ridiculed or persecuted,
I shall never conceal my detestation of prejudice and tyranny, and my
sympathy with the weak," answered Gilbert proudly. "Pardon me, if I
speak warmly on this subject, Miss Horton; it is not to be supposed
that you and I should think alike. We represent the opposite sides of
the Atlantic."
"Nay, Mr. Margrave," replied Adelaide, whose brief outburst of anger
had passed like a thunder cloud in a sunny sky, "it is I who should ask
pardon. I fear I am a passionate and heartless creature, but I cannot
help feeling some indignation against Mr. Leslie for the cheat he has
put on us."
Adelaide Horton scarcely dared own to herself that it was jealousy of
Gilbert's evident partiality for Cora, rather than anger against the
young girl herself, that had been the cause of her cruel words.
Augustus Horton entered the room at this moment, and Adelaide presented
her brother to the young engineer.
There was little sympathy between Gilbert Margrave and the planter of
New Orleans. Augustus had never quitted the Southern States, except on
the occasion of one or two brief visits to New York. His ideas were
narrow, his prejudices deeply rooted. He was by no means free from the
vices of his fellow-citizens; he was known to frequent the gambling
houses, which, in spite of the law promulgated for their suppression,
still existed in New Orleans; but he was known, also, to be prudent,
even in the midst of his dissipation, and never to have jeopardized the
splendid estate left him by his father.
But hospitality is an universal virtue with the creoles, and Augustus
bade the young engineer a hearty welcome to his house.
They conversed for some time on indifferent subjects, and Gilbert,
having accepted an invitation to dinner for the following day, was
about to take his leave, when he was prevented by the entrance of the
slave, Myra.
The girl approached her mistress with an embarrassed manner unusual to
her.
"What is the matter with you, Myra?" asked Augustus, impatiently. "What
are you standing there for? Why don't you speak?"
"Oh, if you please, massa," stammered the girl, "there is a young
person below who asks to see my mistress, and who calls herself Miss
Leslie."
"Gerald Leslie's daughter here!" exclaimed Augustus. "This is too much.
This is what her father exposes us to in not teaching this girl her
real position."
"What is to be done?" asked Adelaide, turning pale.
"Can you ask?" replied her brother. "Surely there is but one course. I
will ask Myra here," he added, pointing to the young quadroon. "Tell
me, girl, what do you think of this young person?"
"Why, massa, I--I--thought in spite of the whiteness of her skin, she
must be--"
"Of the same rank as yourself; is it not so?"
"Yes, massa."
"Very well, then; do you think it possible that your mistress could
receive her as a visitor--as an equal?"
"Oh, no, massa!" exclaimed the girl.
"That is enough. You can let her know this."
Myra courtesied, and was about to leave the room, when Gilbert Margrave
arrested her by an imperious motion of his hand.
"Stay!" he exclaimed. "Pardon me, Mr. Horton, if I presume to say that
this must not be. I had the honor of meeting Miss Leslie one evening at
the house of your aunt. Permit me, therefore, to spare her an insult
which I should feel myself a dastard in tolerating. Allow me to carry
your answer to Miss Leslie?"
"You, sir!" exclaimed Augustus Horton.
"Oh, pardon me, Mr. Horton, if I appear to make a bad return for the
kind welcome you were so ready to offer to a stranger; but remember
that the customs and prejudices of the South are new to me, and forgive
me if I say that the conduct which on your part would only be natural,
would become on mine an abominable cowardice!"
"Sir!" cried the indignant Augustus.
Before he could say more, Gilbert Margrave had bowed deferentially to
the ladies and to the angry planter himself.
"Oh, it is too clear--he loves her!" exclaimed Adelaide, when they were
alone.
"And even if he does," said her aunt, quietly; "what difference can it
possibly make to Miss Adelaide Horton that is--Mrs. Mortimer Percy that
is to be?"
Crimson mounted to Adelaide's face at this remark. She made no answer,
but with an angry look at her aunt, hurried from the room.
This display of emotion had not escaped the penetrating eye of her
brother.
"What is the meaning of this, my dear aunt?" he asked.
"I very much fear, Augustus, that your sister has no great inclination
to marry her cousin, Mortimer Percy."
"And the cause of this disinclination is some foolish preference for
the insolent European who has just left us?"
"Unhappily, yes."
"This is too humiliating," exclaimed Augustus, walking rapidly up and
down the apartment; "my sister degrades herself by evincing a marked
predilection for a man who is indifferent to her, and the object of her
admiration does her the honor to prefer a--slave!"