She opened the social game now, by saying, agreeably: "Your name is
not a strange one to us, Mr. Chilton. We have often heard you spoken
of in the most affectionate terms by our friends, but not near
neighbors, the Ayletts, of Ridgeley,----county. Is it long since you
met or heard from them?"
"Some months, madam. I hope they were in their usual health when you
last saw them?"
Receiving her affirmative reply with a courteous bow, and the
assurance that he was "happy to hear it," Mr. Chilton turned to
Rosa, and engaged her in conversation upon divers popular topics of
the day, all of which she was careful should conduct them in the
opposite direction from Ridgeley, and his affectionate intimates,
the Ayletts. He appreciated and was grateful for her tact and
delicacy. Her unaffected pleasure at meeting him had been as
pleasant as it was unlooked-for, aware as he was, from Mabel's
letter immediately preceding the rapture of their engagement, that
Rosa must have been staying with her when it occurred. The slander
that had blackened him in the esteem of his betrothed had, he
naturally supposed, injured his reputation beyond hope of retrieval
with her acquaintances. Rosa, her bosom companion, could not but
have heard the whole history, yet met him with undiminished
cordiality, as a valued friend. Either the Ayletts had been
unnaturally discreet, or the faith of the interesting girl in his
integrity was firmer and better worth preserving than he had
imagined in the past. Perhaps, too, since he was but mortal man,
although one whose heritage in the school of experience had been of
the sternest, he was not entirely insensible to the privilege of
promenading the long suite of apartments with the prettiest girl of
the season hanging upon his arm, and granting her undivided
attention to all that he said, indifferent to, or unmindful of, the
flattering notice she attracted.
Over and above all these recommendations to his peculiar regard was
her association with the happy days of his early love. Not an
intonation, not a look of hers, but reminded him of Ridgeley and of
Mabel. It was a perilous indulgence--this recurrence to a dream he
had vowed to forget, but the temptation had befallen him suddenly,
and he surrendered himself to the intoxication.
Yes! she was going to the President's levee that evening, Rosa said.
A sort of raree-show--was it not? with the Chief Magistrate for head
mountebank. He was worse off in one respect than the poorest
cottager in the nation he was commonly reported to govern, inasmuch
as he had not the right to invite whom he pleased to his house, and
when the mob overran his premises he must treat all with equal
affability. She pitied his wife! She would rather, if the choice
were offered her, be one of the revolving wax dummies used in
shop-windows for showing the latest style of evening costume and
hair-dressing--for the dolls had no wits of their own to begin with,
and were not expected to say clever things, as the President's
consort was, after she had lost hers in the crush of the aforesaid
mob, who eyed her freely as an appendage to their chattel, the man
they had bought by their votes, and put in the highest seat in the
Republic. No! she was not provided with an escort to the White
House. She did not know three people in Washington beside her
relatives, and, looking forward to creeping into the palatial East
Room at her uncle's back, or in the shadow of her cousin's husband,
the vision of enjoyment had not been exactly enrapturing--BUT, her
companion's proposal to join their party and help elbow the crowd
away from her, lent a different coloring to the horizon.