* ^7 \ 
 
 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 DAVIS 
 
 
Blonde and Brunette 
 
 OR 
 
 THE GOTHAMITE ARCADY 
 
 "Ambo florentibus astatibus, Arcades ambo." 
 
 VlRG. EC. VII. 4. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 APPLETON AND COMPANY, 
 34 6 & 348 BROADWAY. 
 
 185.8. 
 
 LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 DAVIS 
 
 

 ENTERED according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by 
 
 D. APPLETON & CO., 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
 Southern District of New York. 
 
EDITOE'S PEEFACE. 
 
 THE following tale came into my possession by 
 accident. The author was a singular character, 
 and there are features in the story which are as 
 singular as he. He was an American by birth at 
 least I believe so but of foreign education, con 
 nected in some political manner with the Irish ex 
 iles, and of no particular religion but the " religion 
 of a gentleman." When I knew him, his original 
 radicalism and revolutionary ardor had melted 
 down under the influence of a long residence in 
 this free country, into a mild, ripe, nutty-brown 
 Madeira tone of well-preserved conservatism, the 
 bouquet of which would have diffused pleasure and 
 sympathy at the table of old Kit North. His read 
 ing lay at that time in the classics of the Augustan 
 age of Elizabeth, Sidney, Shakspeare, &c. ; and 
 the influence of such studies is plainly seen in the 
 following narrative. 
 
 They tell a good story in " Gotham " of the 
 
 late Mrs. L d, wife of the wealthy tobacconist. 
 
 Mrs. L d at that time lived in great splendor, 
 
4 PREFACE. 
 
 and was much courted as' well on account of her 
 social qualities as of her wealth. She was paying 
 a morning call, and on entering the well-filled 
 drawing-room, was saluted by the hostess it was 
 one of those lapses of the tongue or the memory, 
 which no one can at all times avoid with " How 
 do you do, my dear Mrs. MACCABOY ? " Maccaboy, 
 as every one knows, is the name of a celebrated 
 Scotch snuff. Of course, there was a general in 
 voluntary smile, and a partial laugh, in which Mrs. 
 
 L d, a well-bred woman she seems to have 
 
 been, good-naturedly joined. " I am sure," said 
 she, coming to the relief of her embarrassed host 
 ess, " that it was a very natural mistake." 
 
 It may possibly have been the recollection of 
 this anecdote which induced the author to spell 
 the name (in the following pages) with an Me 
 instead of an M-a-c, i. e. in the Irish and not in the 
 Scotch mode. Whatever may have been his mo 
 tive, it could not have been ignorance ; and I have, 
 therefore, not thought it permissible to deviate 
 from his orthography. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAP. I. SOME PRELIMINARY DESCRIPTION, ... 7 
 
 II. MR. AND MRS. BLAKE, . . . . 12 
 
 III. THE TWO HEROINES ARE DESCRIBED, . . 23 
 
 IV. THE HEROES ARE INTRODUCED AT ONCE, . 29 
 V. MADAME BLAKE AND HER CONFESSOR, . . 34 
 
 VI. YOUNG GOTHAM, 36 
 
 VII. INCIPIENT SYMPTOMS OF A DANGEROUS DISORDER, 43 
 VIII. How A FIRE, ONCE KINDLED, GROWS OF ITSELF, 
 
 WHEN IT FINDS PLENTY OF INFLAMMABLE 
 
 MATERIAL, * 47 
 
 IX. THE EXCURSION, 54 
 
 X. AN ANGLER OF SKILL, .... 67 
 
 XL A BASKET OF GAME, 73 
 
 XII. A SNUFF-COLORED TARTAN, ... 81 
 
 XIII. SUCCESS IN PORTRAITURE, .... 89 
 
 XIV. A STUDIO SCENE, 108 
 
 XV. To WHICH ENTER TWO LADIES, . . .126 
 
 XVI. THE MAIDEN'S REVENGE, . . . . 139 
 
 XVII. A WALK NOT BY MOONLIGHT, . . .154 
 
 XVIII. IN WHICH XANTHINE'S AFFAIRS ARE RESUMED, 170 
 
 XIX. MR. BLAKE USES IMPROPER LANGUAGE, . 186 
 
6 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAP. XX. BOTH BOATS IN THE EAPIDS, . . . 197 
 XXI. YOUNG GOTHAM HOLDS A COUNCIL, . . 210 
 XXII. IN WHICH THE STORY ADVANCES SOME FUR 
 THER, 219 
 
 XXIII. PREPARATIONS FOR THE WEDDING, . 234 
 
 XXIV. TOM'S CONVERSION, 242 
 
 XXV. THE WEDDING TOUR, .... 274 
 
 XXVI. A LETTER FROM MEL, AND XANTH'S REFLEC 
 TIONS, 298 
 
 XXVII. RECALLED, 309 
 
 XXVIII. THE BELLS " BROUGHT HOME," . . .310 
 
BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 SOME PRELIMINARY DESCRIPTION. 
 
 IT is well known that the city of Gotham is the 
 commercial capital of the most flourishing empire 
 of the New World. This city has no walls gray, 
 turreted, and bristling with cannon like the naval 
 cities of the old continent ; nor quays of solid 
 masonry, like the world-renowned capitals of Erin 
 and Muscovy ; but instead, long lines of wooden 
 wharves, crowded with the shipping of all nations, 
 and washed by the great river Hendrick, so called 
 from its discoverer's name, who was a Dutchman. 
 
 The Hendrick, in truth, is a noble stream, 
 which comes down from a region of lakes and 
 mountains in a mighty and swelling volume of 
 waters, till it blends with an arm of the sea, (itself 
 
8 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 seeming another,) that foams and heaves between 
 the islands at its mouth, and so forms, just at the 
 extremity of the city of Gotham, which occupies 
 one of them, the great bay of Manhatta, wherein 
 it is believed all the navies of the world might 
 easily ride. 
 
 The city of Gotham is an island, as we have 
 said ; and once it was a beautiful island, affording 
 to the gaze of him who sailed along its shores, an 
 agreeable mixture of rock and grove, topping hill 
 and marshy low ground, sparkling here and there 
 with the villas or country-houses of the wealthy 
 Gothamites, mostly built of wood painted white, 
 and adorned with long verandahs quite encircling 
 them ; or showing at some turn a humbler, but sub 
 stantial abode, nooked under a mighty horse-chest 
 nut, the head-quarters of a milk-farm, with cattle 
 (whose tinkling bells you could hear in the still 
 evening) grazing on its wild up-hilly pasture-land. 
 On the opposite side of the broad, sealike river, 
 towards the going down of the sun, lies a much 
 bolder shore, composed of fine hills and jutting 
 promontories covered with forest, forming the 
 most beautiful bays or coves with the river, (a great 
 careless male flirt that just toyed with the willing 
 banks as it went by,) and soon after, passing into 
 a sterner range of steep and lofty cliffs of trap-rock, 
 
 
SOME PRELIMINARY DESCRIPTION. 
 
 (like maidens of a coyer and more prudish temper,) 
 the precipitous faces of which were thickly garnish 
 ed with shrubs and the stoney ledge crowned with 
 evergreen trees. When the sun sets over these 
 western shores of the Hendrick, (a reputed un- 
 healthiness had preserved them in their native 
 wildness,) they assume a fine purplish tone, and 
 early in the morning, when the same luminary 
 bringing light to the Gothamites has risen upon 
 them, they reflect his rays with great power, and 
 are visible even across the broad, low-lying penin 
 sula of Castra Occidentis, and the wide tide-chan 
 nel called Flume Oriente, to spectators placed upon 
 the distant heights oilsola Lunga.* 
 
 Anciently, as antiquity is reckoned in the New 
 World, in sailing up past these beautiful river- 
 shores, you arrived abreast of an out-jutting point, 
 green and cultured, lying below the receding back 
 ground of wood and rocky height, and terminating 
 riverward by a round fort of dark stone, grimly 
 pierced with embrasures for cannon, and sweetly 
 laved by the very waters of the Hendrick, which, 
 at high water, made a kind of fresh-water sea- 
 
 * By Castra Occidentis, the humorous writer seems to 
 mean Westchester ; by Fiume Oriente, the East River, and 
 Isola Lunga, almost evidently indicates Long Island. These 
 affectations are perplexing. [ED. 
 
 1* 
 
10 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 weed mark on the circling masonry of the disman 
 tled battery. For grass grew on the rampart 
 walk, and within the safe in closure, (it was nat 
 urally gravelled,) which, at the date we write of, 
 was continuous with the garden terrace of a coun 
 try-house, inhabited by a Gothamite merchant of 
 those days. 
 
 A very pretty mansion it was, considering that 
 the taste for cottage-architecture was not yet de 
 veloped among the people of the land a plain, 
 double house of gray stone, that seemed to have 
 been quarried from the topping cliffs behind, a 
 white wooden verandah along the front, and a 
 trellised arcade to the right, which took a bend 
 after a dozen yards, and skirting the lawn, led 
 down quite to the water-side. A very great elm 
 shaded the lawn, and with its far stretching branch 
 es partly hid the outline of the mansion. On the 
 narrow beach of fine dark sand and round pebble 
 below, were a boat-house and a bathing-house, both 
 of wood, supported on piles, and partially project 
 ing into the water at all times. The whole aspect 
 of things gave a pleasant notion of leisure and rural 
 retirement to the people who marked the place 
 from the sheltered deck of the passing steam 
 boat. 
 
 This sentiment of the traveller would be height- 
 
SOME PRELIMINARY DESCRIPTION. 11 
 
 ened sometimes by the sight of a family group in 
 the verandah of the house, or, on .some fine after 
 noon, seated under the shade of the great elm on 
 the lawn, or at a still later hour, say sunset or twi 
 light, leisurely promenading on the rampart or es 
 planade of the old round battery which formed so 
 picturesque and peculiar a part of the little domain. 
 Then, the white hairs of a man in the declining 
 day of manhood, the ribboned cap of a matron, 
 (caps were worn by the middle-aged women in 
 those times,) the ringleted heads and white drap 
 ery of a couple of fair girls just on the edge of 
 womanhood, the round jackets and short, be-sashed 
 dresses of younger children, now and then the 
 manly forms of some young men grown, presented 
 a due mixture of ages and sexes that suggested a 
 thousand pleasant thoughts. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 MR. AND MRS. BLAKE. 
 
 THIS family, who lived in a spot so pleasant 
 and secluded, yet overlooking a great highway 
 of traffic and travel, a noiseless, dustless highway, 
 that was a source of amusement to them and not 
 of annoyance this family affords the subject of 
 the following tale, which in all its essential features 
 is a true story. 
 
 The name of the Gothamite merchant was 
 Blake Patrick Blake, a nomen and cognomen 
 which say as much for his origin and probable 
 birth-place, as well as for his religion, as volumes 
 could. The fact is that Mr. Blake, who, by his in 
 timates, was familiarly termed Pat Blake, was a 
 native of a certain green island, famous for its lakes 
 and mountains, its caves and basaltic, columnar 
 rocks, its wastes too, its wet marshes, (which the 
 inhabitants call bogs,) its holy fountains and wells, 
 and also for a vast number of ruined castles, and 
 
MR. AND MES. BLAKE. 13 
 
 churches worse than ruined, noted also for the 
 superstitious adherence of its people the pisantry 
 especially to an antiquated religion which was 
 professed many hundred years ago by the civilized 
 world, but has been long since exploded among 
 those who follow the light of their own reason. 
 This people are Celtic by derivation, and Mr. Pa 
 trick Blake, as we have said, was one of them, of 
 the same race and of the same faith. 
 
 In the early part of his career in what he was 
 wont to call " the country of his adoption," Mr. 
 Blake married a native Gothamite lady, who, hav 
 ing been bred in the form of religion prevalent 
 among the inhabitants of Gotham, was of a con 
 trary faith, as well as of a different race from him 
 self; a circumstance evidently showing that the 
 antiquated faith of his fathers, or perhaps it would 
 be more true to say, Religion itself, was a matter 
 which then influenced Mr. Blake's practical con 
 duct less powerfully than a great desire of getting 
 on in the world, or, may be, the charms of a beau 
 tiful and interesting woman. Indeed it may very 
 well have been that both these considerations and 
 inducements acted upon Mr. Blake to determine 
 his choice of a partner for life, as Mrs. Blake was 
 both a lady (at the time he married her) of great 
 personal attractions and captivating manners, and 
 
14 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 also possessed of a portion of worldly goods, which 
 though not large in itself, was sufficient to seem 
 highly desirable in the eyes of Mr. Blake, who (if 
 the truth must be told) had little or nothing. 
 
 How it happened that Mr. Pat Blake, who from 
 shop boy and clerk had risen to be junior part 
 ner to her sire, managed to carry off the coveted 
 hand of the beautiful and accomplished Miss Julia 
 Bailey, third daughter and co-heiress of the wealthy 
 jobber of that name, (old Bailey did not cut up so 
 well as was expected, but still he left a handsome 
 fortune to be divided among a large family of girls,) 
 was, and is a mystery. Mr. Blake did not boast 
 (it must be owned) any extraordinary personal ad 
 vantages to account for such a notable success. 
 He had red hair ; a complexion of the most san 
 guine order, remarkably given to freckle and 
 brown in the hot summers of Gotham ; features, 
 what might be called national, but of the imhand- 
 some type of his race, (which has been cast in two 
 moulds one quite common and one of exquisite 
 elegance,) an ugly nose, a large prominent mouth 
 with a most formidable set of teeth, eyes small 
 and bloodshot, a forehead indeed pretty well 
 formed and massive, but which in so young a man 
 as he was then, was less noticed than the rest of 
 his honest but unheroic physiognomy. Mr. Blake 
 
ME. AND MRS. BLAKE. 15 
 
 had moreover a peculiar accent, which in relation 
 to his country-people obtains a particular name and 
 is called brogue. He had the disadvantage, besides, 
 among his elegant Gothamite rivals, (the young 
 drygoods-men and drygoods-men's clerks who vis 
 ited Mr. Bailey's,) of being what is called a Pos 
 itive in religion (or something beginning with a P) 
 and the greater disadvantage of being rather 
 ashamed of it. He was often twitted with, and 
 ridiculed on account of, his nation, his accent, his 
 antiquated faith, his red hair, his bull-dog nose, and 
 his ugly mug altogether. And yet he carried off 
 Miss Julia Bailey, the prettiest of the whole set of 
 Bailey girls, and not the least sensible ! These 
 things are unaccountable. 
 
 I have thought that opportunity is a word that 
 might explain the mysterious fact of Mr. Pat 
 Blake's success in this instance. For example, he 
 boarded with his employer, (a close, formal old fel 
 low was Bailey pere, and adhered rigidly to ancient 
 economical customs,) and that gave him opportu 
 nities. I have no doubt this was partly the secret 
 of it, and the remainder lay in Mr. Blake's posses 
 sion of certain qualities which these opportunities 
 were precisely needful to display. He was of a far 
 more ardent and impassioned nature than the young 
 Gothamites, his rivals. He had an astonishing fund 
 
16 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 of rich, real humor, moreover, which in the aban 
 don of the domestic circle he disbursed liberally, 
 to the infinite delight of the Bailey girls, (except 
 Miss Bailey, who was rather prim and pious, and 
 continued Miss Bailey to her dying day,) and to 
 the especial gratification of Miss Julia, who, though 
 she seldom uttered a witticism herself, had a keen 
 appreciation of wit in others. And Patrick Blake's 
 wit was kindly, grotesque, warm-hearted. The 
 very display of his teeth in laughing was heart- 
 cheering, from the absence of all malice, the gen 
 iality oflj^is homely smile. He wasn't so elegant, 
 true, as the young Gothamites, Julia's admirers, 
 but his frame, inherited from a long line of healthy, 
 virtuous peasant ancestors, was far more strongly 
 built and more vigorously developed. His was an 
 arm fit to wield a shillelah, and on which a slender, 
 graceful, lithe wisp of a girl, like Julia Bailey, 
 might fairly lean with a good deal of natural pleas 
 ure and confidence, as thinking it able to protect 
 and support her. Any how Blake was an honest 
 fellow, and had what is called a good heart. He 
 looked to the main chance, it is true, but that was 
 natural to a man of his position, who had his way 
 to make, and had made it so far by his own energy 
 and industry. 
 
 There are always ill-natured versions, too, of 
 
MR. AND MKS. BLAKE. 17 
 
 such affairs, and I have heard it said (Heaven for 
 bid that I should relate mere tittle-tattle, much 
 more retail scandal, but this concerns our moral) 
 I have heard it said by a very intimate friend of 
 Miss Julia Bailey that was, (subsequently Mrs. Pa 
 trick Blake,) that that young lady, shortly before 
 she accepted Mr. Blake's proposals, which she once 
 refused, was " over head and ears in love " (the 
 very expression of my informant) with the celebra 
 ted beau Tom Tremaine, who visited at her father's 
 and paid Julia a great deal of attention-^ " treated 
 her shamefully, in fact," said Miss X. Y., $hd that 
 Julia's sudden engagement to her future -husband 
 took place immediately after Tom ran away, as all 
 the world knows he did, with Miss McAboy, the 
 daughter of the famous Scotch tobacconist. But 
 if any one infers from these facts (granting they 
 are facts) that Julia's resolution was prompted 
 by pique, or was an act of despair, it is my belief 
 he is mistaken. From my knowledge of her char 
 acter I feel certain, if the circumstances were as 
 alleged, that Miss Julia's behavior indicated sim 
 ply a timely heart-cure, a healthy cicatrization of 
 a wound that was never life-deep, a cordial, sensible 
 turning from a poor, worthless, detected fop, whose 
 merits were in his waistcoats and whiskers, to a 
 genuine man, with a heart in his bosom, and prin- 
 
18 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 ciples of virtue laid up there, too ; for that was the 
 difference between the elegant Tom Tremaine, 
 with his straight Greek profile and fragrant, scent 
 ed, Macassar-oiled black curls, and red-haired, 
 freckled, homely Paddy Blake. We do not say 
 that there wasn't a hitch when the ceremony came 
 to be performed which made these two one. There 
 was a difficulty which Mr. Blake must ever have 
 dimly seen in the background of his wooing. The 
 priest of his faith, whom, to tell the truth, he too 
 seldom consulted, had something to say it was 
 not altogether in approval (as Mr. Blake doubtless 
 anticipated) and a condition to impose before Tie 
 could sanction, or a higher authority still dispense. 
 The difficulty, however, was got over, the prom 
 ises were made, by whom I cannot aver. Those 
 were lax days, I have heard ministers of the same 
 religion affirm. Their Church winked at evils she 
 could not prevent, and promises were made which 
 were never meant to be kept, and things asserted 
 for true, which had no place in reality. I am pos 
 itively sure that Miss Julia Bailey (that was) never 
 gave any such promise as that her future offspring 
 by Mr. Blake should be brought up in his faith ; I 
 am sure that Mr. Blake never ran the risk of mak 
 ing a proposition that his fair intended would have 
 regarded as vulgar impertinence ; (for young dam- 
 
MR. AND MRS. BLAKE. 19 
 
 sels about to be married have no idea of any here 
 afters of that kind how should they ?) the match 
 would have been broken off, very likely ; and in 
 short, for an infinity of reasons, I am convinced 
 that Mr. Blake obtained the concurrence, such as it 
 was, of the Church to which he belonged, in his 
 marriage, by representations which I would gently 
 characterize as devoid of truth. He never ap 
 proached the subject with Miss Julia nearer than 
 to sound her on the sentiments which she enter 
 tained towards his ancient creed generally, nor ever 
 had a more delinite understanding than that if he 
 would go to church occasionally with her, she 
 wouldn't mind as a rule, (seeing that he had no 
 choice,) going wife-like with him. Mr. Blake argued 
 that this concession involved every thing, and so 
 that important difficulty was got comfortably over. 
 Things went well with the Blakes. Papa Bai 
 ley died of a stroke of apoplexy, and Mr. Blake 
 came in for a handsome slice of the estate. The 
 business was reorganized, and Mr. Blake became 
 senior partner of the new firm. He dealt cautious 
 ly, (most of his countrymen do,) and trusted to 
 quiet, regular gains. His capital increased ; his if 
 business still grew ; Mr. Blake passed for a rich man 
 in those days, he kept his house in the city of Go 
 tham, No. 18 Old Bailey Street, (on Ste Nicholas' 
 
20 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 Park, for which the Blakes had a key,) and his 
 pleasant country seat at Red Fort,^vhere the fam 
 ily lived from the middle of May to the first of No 
 vember. Here the summer afternoons were cool 
 ed by the shadow bf the western hills, and fresh 
 ened by the sea-breeze that found its way through 
 the " Harrows " and across the Bay and up the 
 wide river to Mr. Blake's vine-embowered veran 
 dah. Here the hay smelled sweet on the meadows 
 that environed the gardens ; here the Indian corn 
 rustled on the side of the lane that led to the vil 
 lage, just one mile off. Here the table of the 
 Blakes was supplied with abundance of rich cream, 
 warm fresh milk, curds, eggs, all sorts of summer 
 berries just picked from the garden beds, or from 
 the bush-overgrown heights. Here the children 
 bathed, boated and fished, and the older boys went 
 shooting <jn the partridge-whirring hills. But es 
 pecially on the summer evenings, when Mr. Blake 
 returned from his " store," (or as novel-writers say, 
 his " counting-house,") here the moonlight was 
 beautiful on the river, and the starlight on the ram 
 parts of the old red sullen fort ; and the gravelled 
 walks were merry with laughter, and the verandah 
 was sacred to repose and quiet conversation ; till 
 the golden and crimson Autumn visited the heights 
 of Seawalken and the crest of the Arrowheads, and 
 
MR. AND MRS. BLAKE. 21 
 
 the nuts were ripe in the woods, and fires glowed 
 night and morning, fore-tokening a speedy return 
 to Old Bailey Street, and the soon succeeding 
 
 Christmas holidays in Santaklans,Square. 
 
 * -" 
 
 The Blakes passed for and were a happy family. 
 They had all that "heart can wish." The sons 
 were healthy, obedient, affectionate and moral ; the 
 daughters were gentle, modest and fair. Some of 
 the children died in infancy, but this could cause no 
 deep regret, even in a worldly point of view, since 
 the major part survived ; nor in a religious, because, 
 whatever view one might take of such questions, 
 they were on the safe side, having been all bap 
 tized by the pastor of the church of St. Petrus in 
 Gotham. Luckily Mrs. Blake "belonged to no 
 church, " as the phrase is, and so, without a promise, 
 by the natural effect of such a position, the children 
 were gathered into Christ's everlasting fold lay a 
 minister of the church of which her husband was 
 (we fear) an unworthy member. And in time it 
 happened, or (as she believed) it arrived by the 
 good providence and grace of God, that Mrs, Blake, 
 from frequently attending church at old St. Petrus, 
 and hearing the sermons and instructions there, and 
 reading books that fell in her way naturally as a 
 consequence of this, and pushed by certain prac 
 tical difficulties in regard to the training of her 
 
22 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 children which occurred to her spontaneously, 
 without even exchanging a word with her husband 
 on the subject, and without his Being aware of the 
 change till it was past, began to inquire earnestly 
 and sought private satisfaction for doubts that now 
 caused her perplexity and grief, then prayed de 
 voutly for light, lastly (as she believed) obtained it, 
 and returning one day, at the dinner hour, some 
 what late, astonished and almost offended her hus 
 band by saying, in answer to his queries, " I have 
 been to confession, Paddy ! " so she used to call 
 him when she wished to be particularly tender or 
 felt especially happy. And Mr. Pat Blake thus 
 learned that his wife had become a neophyte of the 
 faith to which his conscience told him he had not 
 been remarkably faithful. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE TWO HEROINES ARE DESCRIBED. 
 
 THE walls of the old battery (an English engi 
 neer built them in the time of the Revolution) were 
 massive, and the top presented a smooth walk, 
 guarded by a low parapet on the outer side, and 
 interiorly by a slight iron rail, running about half 
 way round. A light stair of wood led to this ram 
 part-walk from the gun-platform, which was itself 
 accessible by stone steps. 
 
 One lovely evening in August, the two young 
 women before spoken of as sometimes visible in this 
 pretty domain, were seated on the edge of the 
 parapet just mentioned. From afar their white 
 dresses gleamed against the dark background of 
 the distant w r ooded hills. The fort and the grounds 
 were already in shadow, but the red sunlight 
 streamed over more than half the river, and bathed 
 the opposite shore. It is not impossible they knew 
 how picturesque they were, perched on the parapet 
 
24 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 of that ancient fort in the far-cast shadow of the 
 rocks and woods. While grass grows and water 
 runs, the same simple vanity, generation after gen 
 eration, will nestle in the heart of youthful 
 woman. 
 
 " Well, all I have to say is, that if the old steam 
 boat is coming at all to-night, I wish it would 
 make haste," cried Xanthine, turning away impa 
 tiently from the river down which she had been 
 gazing. 
 
 " It will come in good time, if you are only 
 patient," said Melanie, whose eyes were fastened 
 on the sunny lapse of distant waters where the 
 expected craft would first make its appear 
 ance. 
 
 That was the difference, at least at this period, 
 between Xanthine and Melanie. Melanie was the 
 oldest. I believe it was at the instance of her 
 father, who was a good classical scholar, having 
 been taught both Latin and Greek by a hedge- 
 schoolmaster, that she received this singular and 
 romantic name. He would have called her Melai- 
 na, because when she was born she was black as a 
 little negro infant, with an abundance of raven- 
 black hair covering her little head, and eyes of the 
 same unusual color in a babe ; but her mother, who 
 knew French better than Greek, preferred to call 
 
THE TWO HEROINES ARE DESCRIBED. 25 
 
 her Melanie. The next sister was white and pink 
 like a garden rose, with hair as copious as the 
 former, but of a bright golden color, and her fath 
 er, struck with the difference, and inspired by a 
 sort of classical humor, a turn his wit took as he 
 grew older, named her Xantha, but her mother 
 called it Xanthine. This was before Mrs. Blake's 
 happy conversion, or it is likely her daughters 
 would have got more Christian-like names, picked 
 out of the calendar of saints, or the martyrology at 
 least, instead of a classical dictionary. 
 
 At the moment when we introduce them to 
 our readers, these two sisters were pretty, grown 
 up girls, about the average height of woman, 
 though Melanie might be an inch the taller of the 
 two, and a good deal alike in feature. That is, 
 there was a general sister-like resemblance, but 
 with points of difference. Both had sweet low 
 foreheads, but Melanie's was higher than Xan 
 thine's by measurement, though not broader. 
 Xanthine's lovely hair waved in broad masses over 
 a soft antique fulness in the region of ideality. 
 Both had little turn-up noses, on the pattern of 
 their father's, but Xanthine's had the most marked, 
 and as her mother said, most espiegle, upward cur 
 vature of its delicate, well-formed nostrils. Both 
 had a mouth somewhat prominent ; and conspicuous, 
 
26 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 pearly teeth ; but Melanie's lips were thinner, and 
 Xanthine's more saucy and pouting. In figure, 
 again, both were sufficiently pleasing ; but Melanie 
 inclined more to slenderness and angularity, while 
 Xanthine was as plump and round as a ripe, red- 
 cheeked apple. The most marked difference, 
 however, between them, which everybody noticed 
 at first sight, was that of complexion, as before 
 hinted. Melanie was a brunette, with great black 
 eyes and black shining hair; and Xanthine was 
 fair as the blushing Aurora, with large, inexpressibly 
 softly shaded, yet mirthful blue eyes, the richest au 
 burn hair, and a skin of snow, wherever it was not 
 of rose, as it was in her plump cheeks, which were 
 indeed the rosiest in the world. There was a sim 
 ilar difference in their characters. Xanthine was 
 quick, mobile, animated and full of gayety ; Melanie 
 was sedate, thoughtful, reserved, and yet full of 
 suppressed ardor. Xanthine was universally pop 
 ular; Melanie was highly prized by a judicious 
 few. Xanthine had a hundred bosom friends; 
 Melanie had none but Xanthine, whom she tender 
 ly loved. Xanthine had been in love already more 
 than once, though only eighteen, and kept a little 
 court of admirers ; Melanie, at twenty, had never 
 had a lover, nor ever had fancied herself in love 
 with anybody. She had a satirical turn, (it was 
 
THE TWO HEROINES ARE DESCRIBED. 27 
 
 the shape her father's wit took in her,) and the 
 beaux who frequented, whether their city mansion 
 or their country villa, all came in for their share 
 of her sharp things. Xanthine, on the contrary, 
 was always ready for a laugh with anybody, or 
 even for a game of romps, if not carried too far. 
 For they were both most strictly modest, pure- 
 minded and innocent girls, devout P-p-positives, (I 
 keep tripping over that word, as if it ought to be 
 some other beginning with a P,) who practised 
 their Duties regularly; and the staid Melanie was 
 not more strict in this respect than the volatile 
 Xanthine ; for if the latter was more gay in society, 
 the former was perhaps at heart more romantic and 
 impassioned, and more addicted to romantic read 
 ing. To tell the truth, that sober, graceful little 
 head of the older sister was full of enthusiastic no 
 tions, while the sunny temper and roseate bloom 
 of Xanthine covered also a secret and innocent 
 seriousness, which made her often call herself to 
 account in an awful fashion for her own constitu- 
 i ional gayety. 
 
 At length an exclamation of " There it is!" from 
 Melanie, announced the appearance of the steam 
 boat, some two or three miles below, which was 
 as far as the fort commanded the view. In about 
 a quarter of an hour it was waking the echo of the 
 
28 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 hills behind the battery, (which hills in truth com 
 manded Red Fort so as to make it useless in mod 
 ern warfare,) and in ten minutes more had de 
 posited a number of passengers, by means of a boat, 
 at the wharf of the village above. As the boat 
 passed, some handkerchiefs were waved, to which 
 the two girls replied by signalling with their own, 
 and then Xanthine proposed, and Melanie agreed, 
 to walk down the road, to meet the friends whom 
 they expected. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE HEROES ARE INTRODUCED AT ONCE. 
 
 of gentlemen, one of whom carried 
 a carpet-bag, and followed by a boy carrying an 
 other, came up the winding road, and to them ad 
 vanced eagerly Melanie and Xanthine that is, the 
 Misses Blake. These two charming girls, all bonnet- 
 less as they were, quickened their gait into almost 
 a run, as they drew near, as if to contend which 
 should first fling herself into her father's arms or 
 secure the first paternal kiss. Next they had to 
 shake hands cordially with two brothers, and then 
 they seemed to become aware of the presence of a 
 couple of strangers, to whom their father intro 
 duced them, and whom they greeted with gentle 
 maidenly inclinations of the head, to which the 
 livelier Xanthine added a word of welcome to Red 
 Fort. 
 
 As every practised reader of stories sees at once 
 
30 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 that these stranger gentlemen were the fates of the 
 young laclies, we shall not vainly attempt to con 
 ceal the fact, but proceed candidly to tell who they 
 were and what they were like, in such a style as 
 the importance of the occasion demands. 
 
 The younger, taller, better-looking, best-dressed, 
 and more distinguished of the two, was named 
 Thomas McAboy Trernaine, Esquire. His figure 
 was indeed remarkably fine, and was shown to 
 great advantage in his Gothamite summer attire, 
 of spotless white pants falling neatly over jment- 
 leather gaiters, a waistcoat of like snowy gleam, 
 relieved by gold buttons, a chain and various trin 
 kets dangling over it, linen perfect, a cravat tie of 
 a delicate silk check, a dark green cut-away coat 
 with loose sleeves, and a superb white hat. We 
 should not, however, omit, though we had nearly 
 forgotten, the straw-colored gloves, (wonderfully 
 small for a man,) and the slender cane, mounted 
 with a deer's head in ivory. As for the features 
 of Mr. Tremaine, they were of that description 
 which is almost peculiar to the Gothamite aris 
 tocracy, no matter from what European stock they 
 spring, and which will one day, perhaps, be as fa 
 mous as the beauty that, through endless changes 
 of race, still lingers around the shores of the JEgean. 
 But Tremaine was more than ordinarily handsome 
 
THE HEROES ARE INTRODUCED. 31 
 
 in that same rich, yet classic style ; his was a beauty 
 to strike, as the admiring glances of the whole femi 
 nine half of the celebrated promenade of Blooming- 
 Way in Gotham attested. And besides the glow 
 of Titianesque color, and the harmony of noble 
 features, Mr. Tremaine, the girls said, had " such 
 beautiful hair," and such "pets" of silky mous 
 taches, which, by the by, were pretty much all the 
 beard he yet could boast, and were made much of 
 in consequence by their owner, whose years did 
 not exceed two or three and twenty. 
 
 Mr. Tremaine's companion was of different 
 mould, shorter, more thick-set. His dress was 
 vastly plainer, some might have said it was in bet 
 ter taste. Shooting-jacket, waistcoat, trowsers and 
 gaiters were all of the same small-checked pattern, 
 called. I believe, shepherd's tartan. His shoes were 
 heavy, as if made for tramping, and covered a 
 large, or at least, substantial foot, fit to sustain a 
 manly weight. A large gray " wide awake " cov 
 ered his head. He wore it a little on one side, 
 which showed a fair, white, broad and high fore 
 head, and a physiognomy beneath, that nobody 
 would have called handsome, and yet it arrested 
 attention. An aquiline nose 'twas his best single 
 feature, a piercing dark eye, full of fire, high 
 cheek-bones, a large but kindly mouth, a massive, 
 
32 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 resolute chin, hair black and curly, a complexion 
 sunburnt and embrowned, with a touch of bright 
 florid color in the cheeks, like a russet apple checked 
 with red, a heavy black beard, closely shaven, ex 
 cept the large careless whiskers, and the whole 
 head and face rather squarish and massive, are his 
 list of attractions.. The expression of this gentle 
 man's face was pleasing, his manner was diffident 
 and modest to the ladies. It was he who carried 
 his carpet-bag, or rather valise, in hand ; he had 
 also his gun on his shoulder, and a small black 
 pointer went at his heels. He was introduced as Mr. 
 Donald McAboy, a cousin of Mr. Tremaine, and 
 an artist. A young Guernseyman, picked up at 
 the steamboat landing, bore, as I have implied, Mr. 
 Tremaine's travelling equipment, together with his 
 gun and other accoutrements of a sportsman. 
 
 It may be well to state that neither of these 
 two gentlemen whom I have thus introduced to 
 the reader, when they accepted old Blake's invi 
 tation to pass the night at his country house, with 
 a view of shooting over the hills the next day on 
 their way to the wilder regions lying beyond, had 
 the least idea of making love to his daughters, or 
 indeed knew that he had any. They were ac 
 quaintances of Harry Blake, who was something 
 of a fast youth, and drove a tandem, to his father's 
 
TH.E HEKOES ABE INTRODUCED. 33 
 
 great horror. Their meeting on the steamboat 
 was accidental, and perhaps some old memories, 
 dating thirty years ago, before either of the young 
 men was born, had dictated Mr. Blake senior's 
 civility to McAboy and Tremaine. 
 
 2* 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 MADAME BLAKE AND HER CONFESSOR. 
 
 AFTER the usual courtesies, the party thus aug 
 mented, went on chatting and laughing towards 
 the house. They entered the grounds by a white 
 carriage-gate, and came to the front of the house, 
 that looked to the hills. Here was another veran 
 dah, where they found Mrs. Blake sitting, in the 
 cool of a day that had been oppressive. Sne was 
 a well-preserved lady of fifty, having a peculiarly 
 arch, smiling face, surrounded by a gayly be-rib- 
 boned cap, as before mentioned when we saw her 
 from the steamboat. She started a little at Mr. 
 Tremaine's name, and gave him, as well as his 
 friend, a quite decided stare. She was not alone, 
 however, and so we are obliged to present another 
 personage of our tale, a gentleman not much older 
 to all appearances than Mr. McAboy, but who 
 might easily be recognized by various signs as an 
 ecclesiastic. Father Rowman, as Mrs. Blake called 
 
MADAM BLAKE AND HER CONFESSOR. 35 
 
 him, was a person of elegant exterior, handsome 
 as Tremaine himself and in his scrupulously plain 
 black dress, without a particle of white showing 
 except his collar, had an air as distinguished, to 
 say the very least, as that glittering dandy. Father 
 Rowman was remarkably courteous in his manners 
 too, and indeed, his thorough old world polish and 
 adroitness, and perfect dignity withal, threw both 
 the young Americans completely into the shade. 
 Sentiment beamed in his dark eyes ; his language 
 was colored by a delicate and scholarly taste ; the 
 very tones of his voice, deep, manly, and vibrating, 
 conveyed a subtle pleasure to the hearer ; and per 
 haps the total effect was not the less captivating, 
 for a certain sang froid, approaching to apathy, 
 which pervaded his manner in spite of these win 
 ning qualities, and which might be due either to 
 constitutional indifference or to a singular self-con 
 trol. At the outside Father Rowman did not ex 
 ceed thirty, and a careless glance would scarcely 
 have ascribed so many summers and autumns to 
 those glossy raven locks and that cheek of dark, 
 healthful bloom. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 YOUNG GOTHAM. 
 
 THE society of the frivolous and the sensual is 
 not edifying in itself, but it may do us good to 
 enter it in a story so far as to make discovery of 
 its false charm. Our scene must now change to 
 the room or rooms (one opened into the other) oc 
 cupied by the young men. Their windows were 
 thrown open. The time was about eleven, p. M. 
 Both were smoking, and McAboy was engaged in 
 studying the exterior landscape. 
 
 " I say, Donald, we've got into capital quarters 
 here. First-rate fellow, old Blake is. And those 
 two little girls are not so bad, either hey ? " 
 
 Me ABO Y (taking a German pipe out of his 
 mouth). Charming spot ! Such a mixture of the 
 secluded and the accessible. Picturesque that old 
 fort is ! How the waves dash against it, and how 
 the Hendrick rolls and gleams in the moonlight ! 
 'Tis like a sea. Who would suppose that a crowded 
 
YOUNG GOTHAM. 37 
 
 city lay just beyond that jutting woody point ? 
 Really, what with the beautiful scene and the music, 
 and (sinking his voice a little) as you say, those 
 sweet Anglo-Celtic girls, I have enjoyed the even 
 ing amazingly. I would like to paint the sisters. 
 
 TREMAINE. I have no doubt you would, Don 
 ald, and to introduce the artist into the picture. 
 
 McABOY. I would take them at the piano. 
 Such a fine contrast of light and dark, both so rich 
 in local color, would absolutely suggest the sweeter 
 contrast of their voices. It would be almost to 
 paint a song ! 
 
 TREMAINE (knocking the ashes out of his segar 
 on the window sill.) Take my advice, Donald, and 
 introduce yourself in the background, singing bass 
 to the young ladies' treble and contralto. You 
 ought to represent yourself with a blue bonnet, to 
 show that you are a Presbyterian, and wearing 
 the McAboy tartan snuif color cross-barred with 
 green, to indicate your name and character. 
 (Laughs.) 
 
 McABOY I sung with the girls, I don't deny ; 
 but who flirted with the rosy-cheeked Xanthine in 
 the bow window ? Who walked with her, arm in 
 arm, on the old fort yonder, admiring the moonlit 
 Hendrick ? Madame Blake watched your pro 
 ceedings, I can tell you. She plied me with I don't 
 
38 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 know how many questions in regard to you very 
 adroitly put too, which made me notice 'em all 
 the more. 
 
 TREMAINE (lounging, and stretching his ele 
 gant limbs in the moonlight, which shines full on 
 the white pants.) You think she thought I was 
 getting on pretty fast with the rosy Xanthine do 
 you ? 
 
 DONALD (drily). I think she thought so. 
 
 There was a pause, and then Tremaine mock 
 ingly said : 
 
 " Weel Donald, me man ! how could I help it ? 
 Didn't Miss Xanthine herself, while you were 
 showing off your musical powers, go to the bow 
 window and beckon her sister to join her ? Didn't 
 Miss Melanie refuse because she was listening to 
 you ? Could I do otherwise than step forward ? 
 Wasn't it she, who, when I admired the moonlight 
 outside, as soon as your German song was finished, 
 proposed a walk ? And didn't that narrow para 
 pet make us walk in pairs, whether we would 
 or no ? " 
 
 " She takes to flirting as naturally as you, Tom, 
 I allow." 
 
 " Upon my word, our conversation was any 
 thing but sentimental. I leave that line to you, 
 
YOUNG GOTHAM. 39 
 
 Donald. You were trying it, to-night, on Miss 
 Melanie whenever you got a chance, old fellow." 
 
 " Psha ! " said McAboy ; " my conversation 
 was addressed to everybody in general, not to 
 either of the young ladies in particular." 
 
 " But who listened, Mac ? And who knew she 
 was listening, old boy ? You told all that rigma 
 role ahout Germany and Italy, and an artist's 
 life, for the benefit of Father Rowman, didn't 
 you ? " 
 
 " Miss Blake," observed Donald, in an altered 
 voice, " has a finer face, and a more intellectual ex 
 pression than her sister, though her figure is not 
 so charmingly rounded." 
 
 " To my taste," replied Tom his taste had not 
 been formed, like Donald's, in the galleries or 
 among the peasantry of Europe, but in the draw 
 ing-rooms of Gotham, " Miss Blake's figure is 
 more elegant than Miss Xanthine's. Her style is 
 far more distinguished, now." 
 
 " Your taste is perverted by bad models," 
 growled McAboy. u It is likely that I don't know 
 what beauty is, who have made it my study for 
 years. Beauty, Tom, is the exterior expression of 
 fitness to perform the functions for which a thing 
 is made." 
 
 " May be so," said Tom, " but a girl of eighteen 
 
40 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 or twenty, like Miss Blake, has a right to be slim, 
 for all that." 
 
 McAboy made a gesture of impatience, but said 
 nothing. 
 
 " I wonder," pursued Tom, " what old Blake is 
 really worth. 5 ' 
 
 " Suppose you knew he was worth half a mil 
 lion ? " inquired McAboy. 
 
 " Haifa million, and only half a dozen children," 
 said Tremaine, musingly ; " I would stay about 
 here for a while, Mac," with a significant emphasis. 
 
 " And get yourself no, not yourself, but some 
 body else into trouble. What would your father 
 say to your marrying a Positive ? * And do you 
 think a Celtic Positive father would give you his 
 daughter, were you twenty times a Tremaine, un 
 less you were rich, which you are not ? " concluded 
 McAboy, with a dash of bitterness. 
 
 Some kind of rivalry was already springing up 
 between the young men. 
 
 " I wouldn't wait for his leave, if the young 
 lady was willing," answered Tremaine, with an as 
 severation which I think it unnecessary to repeat. 
 " I mean if she was a beauty and a fortune, like 
 
 * This word in the earlier portions of the MSS. seems ev 
 erywhere to have been substituted for some other beginning 
 also with a P. 
 
YOUNG GOTHAM. 41 
 
 these Miss Blakes are. My father didn't why 
 should I ? " 
 
 " I don't know why, I am sure ; and any young 
 lady would be willing, of course, to go off with an 
 irresistible dog, like you are," said McAboy. 
 
 " Well, let us go to bed," said Tom, with a 
 slight, triumphant laugh and tossing the hot re 
 mainder of his cigar out of the window, " I want 
 to dream of Miss Xanthine's golden hair and rosy 
 face, but if I listen to you much longer I shall be 
 stridden by a Scotch nightmare of the most awful 
 proportions." 
 
 McAboy didn't answer. He was not quick at 
 repartee, but when his cousin and companion had 
 ensconced himself in the adjoining room, and, in an 
 incredibly short space, was heard to throw himself 
 on the couch there prepared for him, Donald turned 
 back his head with a kind of angry contempt, and 
 said in a low voice to himself, " Faces and fig 
 ures! That is all you see, sage and manly Tom! 
 If they are all right, then you merely want to 
 know how the account stands at the bank, and you 
 are satisfied. Innocence joined with gayety and 
 poetry, (like a lyric muse,) and reserve concealing 
 deep enthusiasm, do not strike you in these sisters, 
 with their simple manners, secluded, careful cul 
 ture, and ancient, superstitious, but poetic faith. 
 
42 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 I would have every woman a POSITIVE ! By the 
 way, fine head for an ecclesiastic is that of Father 
 Rowman. Wonder how he spells his name. Looks 
 like an Italian. Shouldn't be surprised if he had 
 written it Romani once, or perhaps Roman. It 
 may have passed through both stages Pere Ro 
 man singular name that would be ! I must get 
 him to sit for my picture of the Cardinal and Co 
 lumbus. It is the very head I have been in search 
 of so long. I think I'll seize it to-night from mem 
 ory." 
 
 So saying, the artist lit a lamp, with a match, 
 and drawing forth a portfolio that half filled his 
 square valise, speedily covered a sheet of prepared 
 paper with a rough but characteristic likeness of 
 Father Rowman in chalk and charcoal. Under the 
 smooth-shaven chin he drew with the same simple 
 materials a white Roman collar and the black stock 
 of a cleric, and then scrawled off in a magnificent 
 running hand beneath " Testa di Sacerdote? A 
 smile of triumph illumined his strongly marked 
 features, as he carefully replaced the paper in the 
 portfolio ; and then, undressing himself without 
 any other prayer, he blew out the light, and to bed 
 with a quiet conscience. Why not ? Qui laborat, 
 orat. But his good old Caledonian ancestors would 
 not have thought so. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 INCIPIENT SYMPTOMS OF A DANGEROUS DISORDER. 
 
 WHILE our heroes (I hope my readers admire 
 them) were conversing, or otherwise manifesting 
 their characters for our information, the heroines 
 of this true story (for it is one in the main) were, 
 I have no doubt, confiding to each other their own 
 impressions of this delightful evening the pleas- 
 antest, as Xanthine confessed, which she had al 
 most ever spent. I am obliged, however, to be 
 more concise in this part of my narration, because 
 I have such things only by hearsay, and my imagi 
 nation droops for want of the wings of memory on 
 which it ever flies. Suffice it to say that Melanie 
 and Xanthine were both extremely charmed by 
 that summer eve, and each with a different guest. 
 This being the case, it was astonishing how quickly 
 they made the discovery to each other, indeed 
 sooner than they acknowledged it to themselves, 
 so that each saw and sympathized with her sister's 
 
44 BLONDE AND BEUNETTE. 
 
 disorder before she was fully aware of her own. 
 The showy beauty and fashionable elegance of Tom 
 Tremaine had fascinated the simple regard of the 
 inexperienced Xanthine, while the artistic enthu 
 siasm, the animated conversation, and manliness of 
 aspect that distinguished McAboy, had interested 
 Melanie no less deeply. But it was a moral pecu 
 liarity that riveted the charm in either case. Xan 
 thine was so used to being admired, that the superb, 
 dandified indifference of Tremaine quite subdued 
 her, and made her regard him as a superior being ; 
 but Melanie, who had never had an admirer that 
 she knew of, apart from the flatteries of society, 
 was caught by McAboy's serious and almost pas 
 sionate look of artistic interest fastened upon her 
 self. Donald was, indeed, struck with her thought 
 ful, imaginative air, like a poetess, or even a sibyl. 
 He was glad that Tremaine, whose rivalry he had 
 often experienced, where he had been less interest 
 ed, was occupied with the younger sister; and 
 above all, he was flattered in his turn to observe 
 that Melanie immediately, and as it were instinc 
 tively, took note of him, and gave him her atten 
 tion, with an almost total disregard of Tom. 
 
 Another thing that interested and piqued Mc 
 Aboy was to perceive that both he and his cousin 
 were closely watched, not by Mr. and Mrs. Blake, 
 
SYMPTOMS OF A DANGEROUS DISORDER. 45 
 
 but by that graceful, intelligent Father Rowman. 
 Conjecturing that this was the confessor of the fam 
 ily, his fancy already conjured up a little romance 
 an opposition, a struggle that gave the affair a 
 new zest. He had not yet an idea that any thing 
 definite would come of it ; it was a dream such as 
 he had read of before ; but yet he gave himself up 
 to it with an artist's carelessness, as Tremaine, to 
 his disgust, seemed likely to do with a fortune- 
 hunter's cool premeditation. So poor a conception 
 had either of them of the sacredness of the stake 
 for which they played, concerning, as it did, the 
 most important of earthly relations, guarded as it 
 was, by a mystery of divine institution, and bear 
 ing within it the interests of many future immor 
 tals. 
 
 The young men met the family again at break 
 fast, but there was no good excuse for prolonging 
 their stay much after that, as Mr. Blake and his 
 sons returned to the city to attend to business, 
 their annual period of recreation not having yet 
 arrived, although it was near. The best the visitors 
 could do was to take leave for the present, and 
 trust to the chapter of accidents for a future meet 
 ing. And yet, perhaps, this necessity of parting 
 served their turn better than opportunities, had 
 they been afforded, of further intimacy. Tremaine 
 
46 BRUNETTE AND BLONDE. 
 
 contrived before he departed, to remind Xanthine 
 of their walk on the walls of the fort, which brought 
 a blush to her cheek ; and McAboy made a sketch 
 of this picturesque part of the domain, which he 
 presented to Melanie for her album. 
 
 When Father Rowman took leave, (after the 
 young men were gone,) he brought a blush to the 
 cheek of both the sisters, by advising them half 
 gayly, half seriously, not to be taken too much 
 with the bright plumage, or (glancing at Melanie) 
 even the sweet song, of any strange bird that 
 chanced to alight on their garden paling, or to sing 
 for an hour in the trees about the lawn, but to ask 
 themselves whether it was a mate for them 
 " nestlings, " said he, significantly, " as you are, of 
 Holy Mother Church ! " And when he was gone, 
 Melanie and Xanthine walked together in the 
 grounds, very sad and silent, hardly looking each 
 other in the face, but sometimes breathing out a 
 sigh which they had no need to interpret. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HOW A FIRE, ONCE KINDLED, GROWS OF ITSELF, 
 WHEN IT FINDS PLENTY OF INFLAMMABLE MA 
 TERIAL. 
 
 THIS was the first sorrow of a serious kind that 
 Melanie and Xanthine had ever experienced a 
 pleasant, desirable thing which they were not per 
 mitted to have. Nay, it was more than that, for 
 where the affections are concerned, people will 
 fancy that their very being is wrapped up in the 
 thing desired. The sisters had ways of communi 
 cating their sentiments to each other, without vio 
 lating delicacy by any crude confidence, and in this 
 manner they fed their mutual flame. By degrees, 
 talking always by way of supposition, they got to 
 discuss the thing more frankly. The abstract ques 
 tion whether or not they ought to love or marry 
 persons of a different faith from their own they 
 often debated. There was the ready-at-hand exam 
 ple of their father. He had wedded a what 
 ever you choose to call the faith of the Yengeese 
 nations a Negative, say (the Gothamites called 
 
48 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 it so every one in Gotham who desired to be 
 thought well of, professed the tenets of the Nega 
 tive faith) ; and their mother, besides bringing 
 into the world so many children of the true church, 
 (as Melanie and Xan thine of course considered it,) 
 was herself gathered into its fold, and would be 
 saved (said Xanthine innocently) in consequence 
 of that marriage, from eternal perdition. Surely 
 this was a good. Why should not similar happy 
 effects follow a similar union on the part of the 
 children themselves with other Negatives ? If ev 
 ery true believer should marry a Negative, and 
 every Negative so married became a Positive, with 
 all the offspring of such a wedlock, in time the 
 whole Negational Church would be swallowed up 
 by the Positive one, as a certain famous warrior 
 proposed to defeat the enemy's army, fifty by fifty 
 in detail, until they were all destroyed. Our fail- 
 propagandists, in concerting this beautiful plan of 
 making conquests for the " true faith " with the 
 bow and arrows of the fabulous god Cupid, by 
 causing its enemies to pass under the flowery yoke 
 of hymen, forgot the possibility that the " true be 
 liever " in such cases might yield as well as the 
 other party, as the valiant captain above mentioned 
 forgot to reckon the possibility that the enemy 
 might kill him. 
 
KINDLINGS. 49 
 
 In the conversations of Melanie and Xanthine 
 on these topics, they would by no means always 
 argue, however, on the same side, but sometimes 
 Melanie and sometimes Xanthine would take the 
 opposite part, and indeed it happened generally 
 that if Xanthine pleaded too warmly the cause of 
 Nature, Melanie would take up that of Faith, but 
 less warmly ; and if Melanie, on the other hand, 
 vindicated the claims of the heart, and protested 
 the impossibility of accounting for or resisting the 
 mysterious power of sympathy, then Xanthine 
 would ingeniously point out that a parity of reason 
 ing would justify every criminal, every unwise and 
 imprudent attachment and connection. Then this 
 aspect of the case being at last turned over and 
 looked at till they were weary of it, from the ab 
 stract they came down to the practical question, 
 and Melanie was the first to urge that it might be 
 impossible for them, and certainly it was impossible 
 for all Positive girls to find Positive husbands. 
 Now hi their own case, they were acquainted (as 
 Xanthine knew) with scarce any Positive fam 
 ilies, and among those were there any young men 
 who would ever think of them, or whom they 
 would ever think of marrying ? " Either," said 
 she, "they are rude and uncultivated, and so we 
 should not like them, if they liked us ; or else they 
 3 
 
50 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 are ambitious and fond of the world, and hardly 
 choose to be considered Positives at all, and are 
 seeking to marry young ladies of Negative parent 
 age, for the sake of the fashionable connection and 
 eclat it gives them." Then Xanthine, who was a 
 little piqued at the idea that she was left on the 
 bush, in any sense, or by anybody, reminded her 
 sister of two or three beaux she had, of the true 
 faith and Celtic lineage. 
 
 " Aye ! " replied Melanie, " they know that pa 
 is rich, and your money is their object much more 
 than yourself, Xanthine." 
 
 " Why, then," retorted Xanthine, " do they not 
 address themselves to you, who will have at least as 
 great a share of pa's money as I shall have ? " 
 
 " Perhaps they perceive that I see through 
 them and that you don't," replied the older sister, 
 with a deep flush, for neither did she relish being 
 told that she was overlooked, however untrue it 
 was. 
 
 " Well," cried Xanthine, " it shall never be said 
 that I married a Negative because no Positive 
 would have me." 
 
 " And I am not willing it should be said of me," 
 cried Melanie, warmly, " that I married a Nega 
 tive because I never saw a Positive that I would 
 like to have." 
 
VERY NATURAL. 51 
 
 " Nay," replied Xanthine, coloring up in turn 
 at the implied disparagement of her own admirers 
 and perhaps favorites once, " I am sure that Wil 
 liam McDonough, and Frank Kavanagh, and Char 
 ley Lynch are not to be despised. And there is 
 Leary Mortimer. He is one of the most elegant 
 young men in Gotham ; everybody says so." 
 
 " But he doesn't visit in our family," answers 
 Melauie, " and you know he never came near us 
 the whole winter after we met him at the Ballston 
 Springs, though he waltzed with you, dear, every 
 evening at the Grand Gotham Hotel, and helped 
 ma and me to the water every morning at the 
 Chalybeate. I know who was dreadfully smitten 
 with him from that time till he cut us in the Bloom 
 ing-way, where he was walking with the beautiful 
 Miss Belle Randolph you remember that, don't 
 you, Xanthe ? " 
 
 " Yes, I remember it," said Xanthine, bursting 
 into tears at the mortifying recollection, "but it 
 isn't kind of you, dear, to twit me with it." 
 
 Melanie and Xanthine soon made up this little 
 " spat," as the latter laughingly called it, and it 
 ended, as such always did, with kisses, and apolo. 
 gies, and mutual pardons. But the affair of the 
 heart crept on all this while, by sunshine, by mist, 
 by showers, and wind and stormy weather, all invit- 
 
52 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 ing or misleading, or blowing the fair inexperienced 
 mariners towards the rocks and the lee-shore. 
 
 It is true that they knew very well it was none 
 of their business to occupy their thoughts about 
 some young strangers, acquaintance of a night and 
 morning, whom they might never see again. They 
 had their principles and their prayer-books to warn 
 them, and their mother's sensible advice, in the ab 
 stract, as a guide to a more prudent use of their 
 time and their sensibilities. They might also have 
 considered (had they been wise) that the history of 
 the youthful heart is, for the most part, a history 
 of foolish, inordinate desires, that never can have 
 any result but to agitate and fever the mind for 
 the time that they last. And Melanie and Xan- 
 thine never confessed to each other that they cared 
 seriously for the absent Tremaine and his cousin. 
 Even Xanthine, who had ever before been inju 
 diciously confidential, and foolishly frank, in such 
 matters, kept steadily to the protestation that she 
 was really heart-whole now, but as there was never 
 a minute since she was fifteen that she had not 
 been "in love" with somebody, this claim to be 
 suddenly free from all tender fancies was a very 
 suspicious circumstance. But Melanie, who had 
 ever been so reserved in regard to her own feelings, 
 was a little more open. She allowed that she had 
 
 
A PLAN FOR DONALD. 53 
 
 never seen any one who pleased her more at first 
 sight than Donald McAboy. He was a man of 
 genius, and it was in that character that she ad 
 mired him. She only did wish very much that he 
 was of the true faith, not only for his soul's sake, 
 (that of course,) but because he might then paint 
 such beautiful pictures for churches, and no other 
 religion would ever give scope to his splendid 
 powers. When Xanthine, with simplicity, asked 
 what pictures of Donald's her sister had seen, Me- 
 lanie was forced to confess that she had never seen 
 any, but she remembered very well to have read a 
 criticism on one in the Ladies'' Weekly Diurnal, 
 in which it was compared to Raphael and Titian. 
 To be sure the Diurnal gave the preference to the 
 latter, but how could any young Gothamite artist 
 be expected to equal the old masters ? 
 
 It is quite likely, though, that all these fond 
 girlish dreams would have passed off in time, as the 
 unreasonable, imperious wishes of children do for 
 some plaything that is bitterly cried for and speed 
 ily forgotten, had not a new incident occurred, 
 which we shall relate presently. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE EXCURSION. 
 
 DONALD McABOY hinted that Mr. Blake might 
 be worth half a million, and he meant it for a mod 
 erate guess. But people's fortunes are almost 
 always overrated. Mr. Blake was not worth half 
 a million, nor within a hundred thousand of that 
 amount. It takes a long time for a man to acquire 
 five hundred thousand clear, by fair, honest, regular 
 gains, unless he has a great run of luck, as it is 
 called, (though there's no such thing as luck,) or a 
 special genius for commercial pursuits. Old Blake, 
 as the young men irreverently termed him, had 
 merely fair talents that way, and great prudence 
 joined to industry. And his integrity in busi 
 ness was really exact, and this made his profits 
 smaller, at the same time that it limited his opera 
 tions. Strict, minute, conscientious integrity, in 
 small things as in great, is a costly article. If you 
 
THE EXCURSION. 55 
 
 would have it, and the approbation of conscience 
 and the favor of God, which go with it, you must 
 pay for it. Honesty is the best policy, no doubt, 
 all things considered, and in the long run, or tak 
 ing a great number of cases together ; but if your 
 object is to get very rich, very rapidly, honesty 
 will stand in your way, to a certainty. Nine rogues 
 out of ten, it is true, will be ruined and disgraced ; 
 but the tenth will be richer than the honest man. 
 Mr. Blake was a "warm" man, as the phrase is in 
 the old country that he came from. But he had 
 uses for all his money. Part was invested in his 
 business, a part in land, mortgages, stocks, city 
 lots, railway shares, State bonds, <fcc., and of these 
 some were productive, others not. He was liberal, 
 but he could not always put his hand in his pocket 
 and take out gold and bills, or sit down and write 
 checks ad libitum, whenever a call was made (and 
 they were made pretty often) upon his zeal and his 
 charity. It is astonishing how much money the 
 true religion requires for its support and propaga 
 tion. Faith is even costlier than honesty, and 
 charity is more expensive than both. The poor 
 and the Church are never satisfied, and the more 
 you give the more you may. It was so from the 
 beginning, and He who knows what dross gold is, 
 and who paid His own temple-tribute easily from a 
 fish's mouth, has so ordained it. 
 
56 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 Old Blake was a liberal fellow, I allow, but he 
 might have been more liberal without hurting 
 either his own eternal interests or those of his fam 
 ily, or perhaps their temporal interests either. 
 Father Rowman had purchased in the city of 
 Gotham, from a congregation of Negatives, (going 
 into finer quarters,) a church to accommodate a 
 neighborhood swarming with poor Positives ; and 
 it is needless to add that he went deeply in debt 
 for it, and for a thousand and one necessary things 
 therewith connected. A considerable part of this 
 had been paid off by subscriptions, (Patrick Blake, 
 Esq.. gave $1,000, with a "princely munificence," 
 as Father Rowman judiciously observed,) and what 
 remained seemed fairly the part of posterity, which 
 will certainly be better able to pay it than the pre 
 sent generation is. On'e thing more (there is 
 always one thing more) was, however, absolutely 
 essential. They had an organ, (or the use of one,) 
 vestments, an altar-larnp, an ostensorium expen 
 sive peculiarities of Positivity they needed now a 
 house for the pastor, and it was proposed that this 
 should be got by the efficacious intervention of the 
 ladies, who are always the most zealous Positives 
 going. The ladies had had a Fair for the object, 
 but did not realize sufficient, and so it was thought 
 best to have recourse to an " Excursion." 
 
THE EXCURSION. 57 
 
 The idea of this affair was to procure a steam 
 boat, (Messrs. Screw and Paddleton, the proprietors 
 of the old Hen drick line, although Negatives, gave 
 the use of one of their magnificent boats for nothing,) 
 and to convey as many people as could be persuaded 
 to buy tickets, up the river, an hour or two's sail, to 
 land at some beautiful spot where refreshments 
 would be provided, to have a picnic, dance, <fcc., 
 and so return to Gotham in the evening. 
 
 One motive of Father Rowman's visit the day 
 we found him at Red Fort, was to arrange with 
 Mrs. Blake some of the details of this project, and 
 it was then and there settled for it was not in 
 Positive womankind to resist Father Rowman 
 that the Blakes would give their beautiful grounds, 
 with the lawn, the garden, the orchard, the grove 
 behind the house, and the picturesque old fort it 
 self, for the use of the excursionists, and especially 
 for the picnic. It was a very disagreeable abandon 
 ment of the privacy and as it were sacred seclusion 
 of their domain, besides the injury to the grass and 
 flowers, the littering of the walks, and a thousand 
 inconveniences more, but they made the sacrifice 
 willingly, for the sake of the popular and pious 
 pere, and to secure the object. 
 
 But this was not all. The Blakes would be 
 obliged to entertain some of the managers, for at 
 3* 
 
58 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 least a day before, and Mrs. Blake with her daugh 
 ters and their servants would be busy enough in 
 cutting and spreading bread-and-butter and sand 
 wiches, mixing lemonade, currant-shrub, and what 
 not, freezing ice-cream, preparing coffee, cake, <fcc., 
 &c., besides cold chicken, pastry, marmalade, and 
 every other appropriate edible, for nearly a thou 
 sand hungry excursionists. A good many good 
 ladies zealous for Pere Rowman and Positivity, 
 sent hams already boiled ; other some, sugar by the 
 whole loaf; a grocer (Mr. Michael Green he de 
 serves mention by name, and indeed suggested to 
 me not to forget it) contributed cheese for the whole 
 company expected ; McDonough and Lynch gave 
 the coffee and lemons a bag of one and a box of 
 the other ; and Champagne and Xeres the great 
 foreign wine merchants particular friends of Fath 
 er Rowman made the munificent donation of six 
 dozen of claret and sherry for cobblers. It had 
 been agreed to have no wine or intoxicating bever 
 age, but this gift overruled that part of the pro 
 gramme. As all refreshments were to be paid for 
 extra, it was thought that a very handsome sum 
 would be netted. 
 
 The appointed day arrived, and the weather 
 could not have been more auspicious. A sun, truly 
 of Austerlitz, gilded the broad river and the gray 
 
THE EXCURSION. 59 
 
 cliffs and green foliage that formed its banks. 
 There are always delays in these affairs, and it was 
 nearly one o'clock (instead of twelve, as the pro 
 gramme advised) when the steamboat City of 
 Gotham, in all the magnificence of white paint and 
 decorated paddle-boxes and with innumerable flags 
 streaming over it, the decks crowded with people of 
 all ages and both sexes in their holiday attire, a 
 band of music playing patriotic airs, came out 
 above the Arrowheads, and made its triumphant 
 appearance in the Kappawn Zee, as that great bay 
 of the Hendrick was called on which Red Fort w r as 
 situate.* 
 
 Chief among the national banners displayed 
 upon the masts and flag-poles of the City of Goth 
 am, was, of course, the flag of the great Columbian 
 Confederacy gold stars upon a blue field, indicat 
 ing the sister sovereignties of which all the world 
 knows it is composed, and a certain number of 
 crimson and snow-white bands that signified the 
 corresponding number of the patriotic colonies by 
 whom its independence was first achieved. Only 
 inferior to this flag in position, and perhaps equally 
 dear to a great part, say nearly all of the company 
 
 * With all our pains we have been unable to identify pre 
 cisely these localities, which seem described purposely to 
 unite the charms of different spots. (En. 
 
60 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 on the City of Gotham, was a large green banner, 
 on which was emblazoned a Golden Harp, the cog 
 nizance and emblem of the famous Isle of St. Patri 
 cias. As soon as the steamer came in sight cf 
 those who were expecting her on the walls of th 
 fort, a cannon, borrowed from an artillery company 
 for the occasion, awoke the echoes with the first 
 gun of a national salute, to which the people on 
 the City of Gotham, as it sailed majestically by, 
 were obliged for want of a gun, to answer by re 
 peated cheers, and waving of hats and handker 
 chiefs, which had a most animating eifect. 
 
 It was really a pretty sight, when the steam 
 boat was at last laid alongside of her wharf, to see 
 the company on board coming off, in a solid col 
 umn almost, across the wide plank, and then ad 
 vancing up the shady road towards Red Fort. 
 The old battery was never more formidably attack 
 ed, and we may add, never worse defended. The 
 great white gate was wide open to the invaders, 
 who in a short time gained possession of the lawn 
 and piazza, the garden and the fort itself, the trel- 
 lised arcade, the gravelled walks, and the soft, tempt 
 ing elm-shaded grass. Benches and chairs were 
 placed in great number, but not enough for so great 
 a company, and happy were those who could secure 
 good seats, especially the ladies with young families, 
 
THE EXCURSION. 61 
 
 and mothers with infants, of whom there were not 
 a few, intermingled with the youth, while of the 
 latter every lad perhaps had a sweetheart with him, 
 in act or in expectancy, and every girl her beau. 
 By more than one loving couple was the impor 
 tant day fixed on this very excursion, and by many 
 others, it is likely, were exchanged the first inno 
 cent vows. For innocent, at least apparently, and 
 in outward behavior, all were, and not more happy 
 than good. Many young men could be seen in 
 that crowd, whose countenances were marked with 
 as pure a bloom as the maidens themselves whom 
 they escorted ; manly, healthful faces too, sun 
 burnt sometimes, but quite devoid of that hard, 
 yet effeminate and corrupt expression, which toe 
 often is seen in the youth of a metropolis. The 
 young females displayed a great deal of the same 
 kind of beauty, which touches the heart more than 
 the senses, and in a considerable number it was unit 
 ed with features of the most refined cast, to which 
 dark eyes and hair, joined and contrasted with com 
 plexions of rosy bloom or snowy fairness, gave a 
 nationality of style that could not be mistaken for 
 a moment. 
 
 Some wandered along the beach, picking up 
 the pebbles, worn to smoothest roundness by the 
 tides of the Hendrick ; and even tiny, thin shells 
 
62 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 were not wanting to reward the diligent curiosity 
 of others. Some clambered to the topmost wall 
 of the fort, for the view : some strolled through 
 the garden, admiring the flowers and " hooking " 
 the currants, or coveting the blooming plums and 
 gummy peaches. Others found their way into the 
 orchard where the ground was strewn with apples, 
 some of them sufficiently hard and green they 
 ate them all the same. One joyous party seized 
 upon the swing attached to the branches of the 
 mighty old elm on the lawn the scup they called 
 it. Now, it was a couple of young men who stood 
 on the swing-seat, and by squatting as it descended 
 and rising quickly as it rose, imparted to it soon a 
 fearfully rapid motion, carrying them like light 
 ning now down with a rush, now up with a flirt and 
 fling among the green boughs. Then it was a whole 
 nest of children, laughing and screaming, whom a 
 couple of good-natured youths swung to and fro, 
 bidding them " not to fear and hoi' on ter the 
 scup." Jow it was a shy, yet delighted damsel, 
 with her flowing robes carefully tucked about her 
 feet, whom a rude, kind brother, or eager, happy 
 " swain," caused to vibrate " between heaven and 
 earth " in the safe though dizzy seat. On ihe benches 
 and chairs around the lawn were graver, but not 
 less contented groups, elderly or middle-aged peo- 
 
THE EXCURSION. 63 
 
 pie, with young children tumbling upon the thick 
 sward at their feet. And here and there (if we 
 may be pardoned the mention of it) a mother of 
 primitive ideas quieted a still younger member of 
 her family by giving it the breast. The younger 
 portion already began to demand the edibles, and 
 the refreshment tables, spread under a vast awning, 
 gathered the greatest crowd. Goodness ! what a 
 demand for sandwiches and oysters ! How busy 
 are the ladies that help to lemonade and sangaree ! 
 How assiduous must those young ladies be that 
 preside in white dresses and bare red arms at the 
 coifee urns ! they are zealous friends of Father 
 Rowman, and fully conscious of the dignity of 
 their office on this occasion. But that young man 
 'tis gay George Dillon who " does " the cob 
 blers, how expert, how showy, how active he is! 
 Small harm will those well-iced tumblers do to those 
 who imbibe them, or their contents, if you please : 
 'tis ice and water and red, red claret, and scarce 
 a flavor besides, the which George adds surrep 
 titiously, for Father Rowman forbade it strictly. 
 Good-natured Father Rowman ! he winks at the 
 disobedience, and that he may have no proof of it, 
 meekly confines himself to lemonade and coifee. 
 But then Patrick Blake, Esquire, has a sideboard 
 in the dining-room of the. villa, inaccessible to the 
 
64 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 profane vulgar, where the good Father and a few 
 other select friends may indemnify themselves, if 
 they like, for this abnegation. 
 
 Most of the excursionists made a serious meal, 
 as indeed they needed it at the hour it was. After 
 that the dancing began. The interior of the fort 
 had been boarded over and covered in with an awn 
 ing like a huge tent, and adorned with flags and 
 evergreens. A fine military band, kindly lent for the 
 occasion by the commandant of the garrison of Fort 
 Gotham, the principal defence of the city, played co 
 tillons and other fashionable dances. This, of course, 
 was the principal thing that the young people came 
 for, and surely, as Father Rowman sensibly ob 
 served, there was "no harm in enjoying themselves 
 and helping the Church at the same time." 'Twas 
 the order of the day at all events, and for my part, 
 although my dancing days were over, I confess to 
 have received a great deal of pleasure from wit 
 nessing the agreeable scene of youthful gaiety. 
 The flower must wither and fall from its stem, 
 scentless and discolored, but in its bloom how 
 sweet is its fragrance, how delicate its beaut}' ! 
 The hand of the Almighty Artist designed its ex 
 quisite form and laid on those harmonious tints, all 
 shading into one another so finely, or contrasting 
 with each other so widely. He has made every- 
 
THE EXCURSION. 65 
 
 thing beautiful in its time. Likewise grief and 
 misfortune are from Him, for there is shade as well 
 as light in the picture of life designed by his hand. 
 Laughter and pleasure are indeed in a sense more 
 tragic and awful than tears and sadness, as the 
 smooth swiftness of the river above the cataract 
 is more fearful than its foam and dark eddies are 
 below. 
 
 It is needless to say that Xanthine and Melanie 
 were among the most conspicuous as well of the 
 manageresses of the pic-nic, as of the active par 
 ticipants of the bal, as one young lady rather af 
 fectedly called it. It is true that Xanthine made 
 herself merry in private with the want of elegance 
 on the part of her beaux, but for all that she con 
 trived to enjoy herself with them extremely well. 
 It might be that Melanie, who laughed less and 
 was a great deal more courteous, had more real 
 contempt in her heart for those who had enjoyed 
 inferior advantages. The young men present were 
 indeed all deficient in some point of breeding or 
 appearance, to an eye that judged from the stand 
 point of Gothamite fashionable life, but I must say 
 that many of the young ladies were full as pleas 
 ing, to my taste, as the Misses Blake. In several 
 instances where the brothers of a family were rude 
 and gawky, the sisters were refined and graceful. 
 
66 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 It would have been quite impossible to determine 
 the social position of many a tastefully attired and 
 perhaps beautiful dancer in the cotillons, but for 
 the vulgar style of her partner, and an intimacy 
 between them that showed he was her affianced as 
 well. Why not, Miss Xanthine ? Why not, Miss 
 Melanie ? Possibly even you could pick out a pair 
 of worthier husbands among this honest company, 
 and who would make you happier women in the 
 long run, and with whom you would live better 
 Christians and be surer (according to your creed) 
 of going to Heaven with them at last, than you 
 will with those magnificent gents who are just this 
 moment working their way toward you through 
 the heated and perspiring throng that somehow al 
 ways clogs up the entrance way between the old 
 fort and the gardens. 
 
 Thomas Tremaine, Esq., and Donald McAboy, 
 artist, in grand tog for a country pic-nic and dance, 
 availed themselves of the public occasion (of which 
 they somehow had heard), to pay a visit to the 
 hospitable mansion of the Blakes, and renew their 
 acquaintance with " old Blake's " daughters. The 
 joyous Xanthine blushes with exuldng pride, and 
 the proud Melanie turns a little pale, as she re 
 ceives their salutations. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 AN ANGLER OP SKILL. 
 
 I KEALLY think that Patrick Blake, Esquire, 
 would have made a good thing of it by giving 
 Father Rowman a cheque for the whole amount 
 he expected to realize by this excursion, and en 
 gaging him to give up the plan for the present, or 
 at least not to ask the use of his villa on the oc 
 casion. I do not allude hereto to the trampling 
 down of the beautiful velvety lawn and the nicely 
 gravelled walks, and even of the soft, loamy flower 
 beds, nor to the loss of fruit, the injury to the 
 shrubbery, the theft of flowers, (by some rude 
 youngsters who deemed it a good practical joke,) 
 and the general profanation and disordering of the 
 sweet, home-like, rural place, which must ever 
 after seem like a suburban Sunday resort. But if 
 there had been no excursion, tickets for the same 
 would not have been sold in the neighboring vil- 
 
68 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 lage of Kappawn, and Messrs. Tremaine and Me 
 Aboy, returning from their sporting expedition, 
 would not have bought any, and thus would not 
 have obtained a legitimate pretext for a visit, and 
 if they had ventured to come, it would have been 
 an intrusion, and the good father and mother would 
 have been put on their guard, and the young ladies 
 would have been warned in time, or other effectual 
 measures might have been taken to counteract the 
 manoeuvres of the enemy. In the midst of so 
 much confusion there was no opportunity for watch 
 fulness, none for kind paternal interference, none 
 for sweet maternal oversight baffling frivolous gal- 
 lantries. And it is unfortunate that in such scenes 
 qualities tell and win a way for their possessor, on 
 which a serious and wise character would be the 
 last to rely. For instance, Tremaine, who was 
 master of no single accomplishment besides, was 
 almost a perfect dancer, and that not merely in a 
 vulgar way, master of the steps and the bare action 
 of dancing, but of all the collateral agremens, such 
 as how to entertain his partner with pleasant small- 
 talk, how to lead her gracefully to her place when 
 she needed repose, how to provide her with a seat, 
 when all seats seemed occupied, (no one was ever 
 more adroit in this,) and to bring or secure, with 
 out hurry and without delay, the desired refresh- 
 
AN ANGLER OF SKILL. 69 
 
 ment. The little arts of che ball-room, in short, he 
 carried to perfection, and the result was a finished 
 pleasure in having him for a partner, a pleasure 
 made up of infinite small details, but in its general 
 effect very striking and simple. 'He gave his mind 
 to it, and he succeeded. He was undeniably su 
 perior in that field, and superiority in any thing tells 
 in its time. Miss Xanthine Blake thought and 
 said that she had never seen such an " elegant man," 
 and the loftier Melanie acknowledged that every 
 body else appeared to great disadvantage in com 
 parison "in such a scene." Meanwhile Donald 
 McAboy atoned for all deficiencies of social elegance 
 by the earnest language of a manly lover, which 
 the solitude of a crowd, and the brief nature of 
 the opportunity, allowed him to use ; for being a 
 bold fellow by nature, and emulous, he was not 
 disposed to let Tremaine get ahead of him. Here 
 in he was like a fisherman acquainted with the re 
 sorts and habits of the finny tribe, who approaches 
 a shady pool in a flowing mountain stream, over 
 shadowed by rocks, or where an old log lies 
 buried beneath the surface, and casts dexterously 
 a well-chosen fly just where a slight ripple breaks 
 up the mirror. Instantly a noble trout, with the 
 velocity of lightning, darts to the surface " rises " 
 at the mimic insect and by the very perfec- 
 
70 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 tion and brilliancy of its native spring upon its 
 prey, is caught, and becomes a prey to a wilier 
 foe. 
 
 This simile holds pretty well of Melanie Blake. 
 As a woman, true love was her natural food, and 
 though the shyest of all living creatures where she 
 had the least reason to suspect a wile, yet none 
 would dart so suddenly, and with such thoughtless 
 vehemence, upon a bait that really deceived her, 
 as this did. The hook in this case was taken as 
 soon as offered. Off, indeed, the beautiful swift 
 native of this still deep cove was, like lightning, 
 but she carried the hook in her mouth, and the 
 fine, strong line followed ; it was only an affair of 
 time and skill, but more patience, to bring in and 
 fairly " basket " the prize. 
 
 Melanie broke from McAboy, quitted him 
 abruptly, with a blush on her cheek and with a flut 
 tering step. By and by he found her again, and 
 she listened, silent, while he addressed her a brief 
 complaint on the score of her leaving him un 
 answered. " This is not a proper place or fit time 
 to discuss such a subject," said she, and turned 
 away again, no less abruptly, to speak to others. 
 Once more the indefatigable Scot seized the oppor 
 tunity for a pleading whisper, and urged that per 
 haps they might not soon meet again, nor was he , 
 
AN ANGLER OF SKILL. 71 
 
 yet in a position to " dare " make open advances to 
 her parents. Candidly he confessed that he had 
 only his profession and his wealthy connexions, 
 yet already his income was sufficient to marry on, 
 if she if " Melanie " were willing to share the 
 lot of an artist. Then Melanie listened again. 
 This was the sort of scene her imagination (dan 
 gerous faculty!) had painted. In short, when the 
 dance broke up at the sound of the bell of the Gity 
 of Gotham, enforced by the piercing thunder of 
 her steam pipe, and the tired excursionists were 
 seen hurrying down the shady road from all points, 
 to secure seats on the favorite hurricane deck, 
 whence the beautiful scenery might be best enjoyed 
 as they slipped down the river, as it behooved Tre- 
 maine McAboy to go on the boat for various rea 
 sons, they mixed with the retiring crowd, and mak 
 ing a pretext of wishing to bid good-bye to some 
 friends, both Melanie and Xanthine walked as far 
 as the great white gate with them. Afterwards, 
 when the Gity of Gotham, with her thronged 
 decks and streaming banners, passed under the one 
 gun of the ancient fort, the sisters were on the wall, 
 and answered their friends by waving their hand 
 kerchiefs, and the saucy Xanthine blew a kiss from 
 her hand to whomsoever she meant it for, but the 
 
72 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 proud Melanie, reproving her sharply, only watched 
 the boat as long as it was in sight, and waved her 
 handkerchief, it might be to five hundred that re 
 plied, or it might be to only one. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 A BASKET OF GAME 
 
 Me ABO Y and Tremaine left with the servants 
 of Mr. Blake a very choice present of such game 
 as was then in season, the fruit of their sport in the 
 mountains, together with a splendid mess of trout. 
 The latter were served that evening for supper, 
 and caused Mr. Blake to express the wish that he 
 had invited the young gentlemen to spend the 
 night at his house. This timely gift, and the gen- 
 tleman-like manner in which it had been offered, 
 produced a highly favorable impression on the 
 papa and mamma of Xanthine and Melanie, but 
 Father Rowman smilingly observed that the young 
 gentlemen understood their own interest very 
 well. Indeed it needed no very great penetration 
 to discover that the thanks thus paid by the young 
 men for the hospitality of the Blakes on a former 
 occasion, resembled a good deal that political 
 4 
 
74 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 gratitude which has been defined as a lively sense 
 of future favors. They were looking forward to 
 the return of the family to town in the Fall, and to 
 that hiemal intercourse of sleigh-rides, play-going, 
 balls and parties, which so frequently leads to hy 
 meneal engagements in the Spring. 
 
 When the sisters came to compare notes with 
 each other on the days that followed the Excursion 
 and the flying visit of their friends, it appeared that 
 Tremaine had not made (indeed how abrupt and 
 presumptuous it would have been !) any declaration 
 of attachment to Xanthine of which she could 
 take notice, although his manner and expressions 
 had left her perfectly certain, as she said, of his 
 "intentions." But having exposed herself to a 
 little ridicule in the case of Leary Mortimer, by 
 allowing expectations of that kind to transpire, 
 which afterwards were not realized, she bound Me- 
 lanie to strict secrecy, pleading that it would be 
 time enough to inform their parents of such pre 
 tensions when they were formally and unequivocally 
 made. On the other hand, the prudence of Mela- 
 nie, who had not committed herself by any answer 
 to the open professions of love on the part of the 
 other cousin, justified her, in her own eyes, in 
 maintaining a like secrecy. Melanie foresaw great 
 difficulties in the way of such an attachment from the 
 
A BASKET OF GAME. 75 
 
 * 
 
 opposition of both their parents; for their mother, 
 a zealous convert, would be very unwilling they 
 should marry any Negatives, and their father 
 would be very unwilling they should marry Nega 
 tives not recommended by a fortune large enough 
 to counterbalance such a defect. Tremaine and 
 McAboy were neither of them rich. Tremaine's 
 father had spent his wife's fortune, and Donald was 
 the son of the only McAboy who never acquired 
 wealth. Besides all this, Tremaine was a young 
 man of fashion ; McAboy a professed artist ; and 
 it was hard to say for which class Patrick Blake, 
 Esquire, entertained the greater contempt, as re 
 spected their capacity of getting on in the world. 
 An artist was an idle dreamer ; a young man of 
 fashion was a spendthrift. The former would never 
 earn money, the latter would spend all the money 
 he got. 
 
 "Since, then," thought Melanie, "we know 
 beforehand that pa and ma will disapprove of 
 these gentlemen's suits, it is needless for us to 
 mention the subject till either the one declares 
 himself so plainly as to require an answer, or 
 I am disposed to give a favorable answer to the 
 other." 
 
 Thus, if Mr. Tremaine's admiration for the 
 younger sister were the question, it was argued 
 
76 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 that till he himself declared it formally, Xanthine 
 had no right to know its existence ; if Donald's for 
 the elder, then that Melanie was not bound to 
 communicate a suit to which she had given no en 
 couragement. 
 
 "Who could maintain," said Xanthine, "that 
 they ought to run and tell pa and ma of every po 
 lite attention that a gentleman paid them, as if 
 they took every compliment for serious ?" 
 
 " Who would say," murmured Melanie, " that 
 one must tattle of the oiFers that one rejected, or 
 did not listen to, or in which those that made them 
 might not persist ?" 
 
 " Modesty shrank from mentioning such things 
 unnecessarily," cried Xanthine with an eager look 
 and tender blush. 
 
 "Honor itself closed a woman's lips in such 
 a case," answered Melanie, firmly compressing 
 hers. 
 
 "Every girl has a right not to understand 
 any thing till a man speaks out," maintained Xan 
 thine. 
 
 " When a man does speak out, he has a right 
 either to consent or concealment," persisted Me 
 lanie. 
 
 So they strengthened each other in making the 
 affair a secret, and, unconsciously, in cherishing 
 
A BASKET OF GAME. 77 
 
 their several fancies ; and perhaps they were right 
 that to speak of it at the present stage (though a 
 mother is a pretty safe confidante after all) would 
 have been premature. 
 
 So time passed on, and time is necessary to 
 ripen every sentiment. The slight uncertainty in 
 Xanthine's mind whether her elegant lover were 
 serious, was the very thing to ripen hers; while 
 the interest of Melanie in Donald McAboy was 
 kept vividly alive by the interior discussion of the 
 question whether her reserve and coyness would 
 damp or inflame his apparent ardor. She remem 
 bered every word that had escaped him, and glad 
 she was (proud girl!) that no sign had been given 
 on her part from which a modest man could infer 
 any thing in his own favor. That Donald was a 
 genius she was certain. She had succeeded in 
 finding the paper the "Ladies' Weekly Diurnal" 
 in which his pictures were criticized, and the 
 editor confessed that Mr. McAfiOY had a "rare 
 gift ; J ' he was " a rich and effective colorist," a " vig 
 orous and accurate draughtsman," and that his 
 " designs breathed of poetical inspiration." These 
 phrases Melanie got by heart, and all that Donald 
 had said to her in the old fort, or beneath the tent 
 on the lawn, was associated with the hero, who 
 already was the subject, in print, of such admirable 
 expressions. 
 
78 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 I must not dwell too long on the feelings of 
 these young ladies and the workings of their 
 hearts ; only so long as is necessary to make their 
 conduct understood. When the passion of love is 
 once suffered to get possession of the heart is 
 kindled, like a soft flame, by light combustible mat 
 ters then it quickly seizes upon every aliment 
 within its reach, and even things which are not 
 easily caught a-fire, turn to fuel and feed it. But 
 the picturesque country-seat of their father, the 
 lawn now covered with yellow leaves, the gravelled 
 walks rustling with them, the brown fort, the waves 
 of the Hendrick, the hills and now golden woods 
 that looked over all, the vast expanse of sky which 
 the situation offered to view, the white sails, of 
 which sometimes a whole fleet was seen becalmed 
 or held by head winds on the broad bay above, the 
 steady progress and dashing paddles of the steam 
 boats daily passing, within doors the domestic quiet, 
 the lengthened evenings, the wood fire on the hearth 
 on the cool nights and mornings that grew more fre 
 quent, the stillness of Sundays, the drive to Syack for 
 mass on the golden October days, under crimson 
 woods, in sight of flashing waters ; the bright autum 
 nal moons, and keen starlight in flne, the meteors that 
 fell, the Northern lights, the books they read, the 
 music they practised ; their drawings ; every pic- 
 
A BASKET OF GAME. 79 
 
 ture in the house, their brother's guns and fishing 
 tackle, the repair of fraternal wardrobes, (sisterly 
 duty which their mother, though it was not a strict 
 necessity, deemed it wise to impose,) the sewing on 
 of brotherly buttons, the hemming and marking 
 of handkerchiefs, all housewifely exercises too, the 
 occasional cake-making, the superintendence of a 
 dinner, the hospitable entertainment of a guest, 
 every antepast of, and act of apprenticeship to 
 the mature functions of the wife and mistress of a 
 family, and the use of the aifections themselves, 
 the love of father and mother, of brother and sister; 
 their own modesty, their charity, their prayers, 
 their faults, all, in short, contributed to fan and to 
 feed the secret flame, all suggested thoughts there 
 with connected, or inspired a sentiment akin to it, 
 or received a new meaning, and a new interest 
 from the anticipations and the hopes in which it 
 lived. 
 
 At length the brilliant foliage turned to a dirty 
 red or brown, and the winds stripped it from the 
 trees ; the soft, misty Indian summer came and 
 went, the winter fairly set in with rumors of snow 
 up the river. December was approaching, and the 
 Blakes migrated to Santaklaus square in the an 
 cient city of Gotham. A fine church St. Nicho 
 las with a Greek pediment and columns, adorned 
 
 
80 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 the square and their town-view, and the grass in 
 the enclosure was yet green. They had bright 
 exotic flowers in their conservatory, and the draw 
 ing-rooms were comfortable and showy. The girls 
 wore silk dresses to walk out in, instead of calico, 
 and the dinner hour coincided with candle-hghting. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A SNUFF-COLORED TAKTAN. 
 
 THE McAboys were a family so interesting that 
 I deem it my duty to give some account of them 
 in this place, especially as they exercised a great 
 influence upon the fate and happiness of my prin 
 cipal characters. They were descended from the 
 McAboys of Mull, a very ancient sept in the north 
 of Caledonia, and as they were all gentlemen, from 
 the chief to the meanest clansman, old McAboy, 
 the grandfather of Donald, was a gentleman of 
 course, being about the fortieth cousin of the reign 
 ing chief, who about that period expelled his kins 
 folk from their mountain cottages to turn the vales 
 and hills of Mull into sheep-walks. Exiled, in con 
 sequence, to the New World, Angus McAboy 
 became first the factor of a tobacco planter in 
 Dominia, (as the greatest commonwealth of the 
 Columbian confederacy was called,) and afterwards, 
 
82 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 entering into the general business in Gotham, ac 
 cumulated in the course of years an immense for 
 tune, which he bequeathed to his children. All 
 these (it was rather curious) to a certain share of 
 the paternal traits of close calculation and worldly 
 sense, united a remarkable love for some ideal ob 
 ject, in the pursuit of which (whatever it was) they 
 sacrificed worldly considerations. Thus Miss Me 
 Aboy, the only daughter, ran away, as I have said, 
 with Tremaine's father, who had no fortune of his 
 own and soon ran through hers. James, the eldest 
 of the sons, never married and husbanded his prop 
 erty. But he built himself a house on Temple 
 Avenue, in Gotham, with battlements on the roof 
 and stone-mullioned windows, (it was some de 
 graded form of the castellated architecture of the 
 middle ages,) and had in it a library stored with 
 vellum manuscripts and rare editions, on which he 
 spent a mint of money, and a gallery of exquisite 
 pictures, procured at a like cost, neither of which 
 he would let anybody see, but his own most inti 
 mate friends. And when a church of the sort 
 which he believed in as a Caledonian, was built 
 just opposite his house, he gave an enormous sum 
 to have the exterior in the same style of architec 
 ture ; and accordingly, with its pointed windows, 
 and buttresses, and its dark frowning tower clothed 
 
A SNUFF-COLORED TARTAN. 83 
 
 in appropriately sown creepers, to resemble ivy, it 
 was the pride of that beautiful quarter of Gotham. 
 Another brother, Angus, was a great philanthropist, 
 and was known for the slaves that he ransomed 
 and his immense subscriptions to charitable ob 
 jects. Every year he patronized one selected 
 charity, and gave all he could spare to that, the 
 effect of which was that the widow and the orphan 
 sometimes went empty from his door, while the 
 whole world yet resounded with his last act of an 
 nual liberality. Angus was married, and had a 
 large family, whom he pinched, although upon the 
 whole they made a considerable display, and were 
 ranked among the first families in Gotham. The 
 third brother, Walter, was the only one who dilap 
 idated his own fortune, which he did to a consid 
 erable extent soon after he came in possession of it, 
 by a passion he had for supporting the character 
 of a Caledonian Laird among the nobles of the 
 Old World. It was quite in vain, since everybody 
 knew, ov found out directly, that he was the son of 
 a tobacconist, whose canisters of snuff, indeed, had 
 a far wider fame than the Castle of Mull, or the free- 
 booting exploits of the ancient McAboys ; but the 
 aristocrats were willing to take his money, or win 
 it from him at play, and in that manner, and by 
 the extravagant style of living he adopted, he in 
 
84 BRUNETTE AND BLONDE. 
 
 a few years spent all but about one-fifth, which he 
 had prudently reserved. With this remainder, still 
 bent on nobility, he married a German baroness, a 
 widow with several children, and many years older 
 than himself, and in spite of the sneers of his court 
 ly companions, when it became necessary for him, 
 according to the wise usages of that country, to 
 prove his pedigree in order to form this connec 
 tion, he was able to show his sixteen unexception 
 able quarterings to the entire satisfaction of the 
 herald's college of the little duchy of Saxe-Kleinen- 
 gen, to which his future spouse belonged. This 
 lady brought him one son, our friend Donald, and 
 to her (such was his attachment to her) he left, at 
 his death, all that remained of his once fine fortune. 
 It is true that she would not marry him till it had 
 been legally settled upon her, and she prized so much 
 this mark of her husband's love, that she showed 
 every inclination to keep it forever ; but she sent his 
 son, willingly, at the age of ten, to his uncle James, 
 to be educated at the latter's expense, continuing 
 herself to reside at Kleinengen, where her income 
 enabled her to make a very pretty figure among 
 the dowagers of the court. 
 
 Donald's personal history is briefly summed up. 
 When very young he showed great talent and 
 aptitude to learn, and remarkable tenacity of pur- 
 
A SNUFF-COLORED TARTAN. 85 
 
 pose. He was particularly distinguished for a 
 certain dexterity of hand, a quality that resides in 
 the brain no doubt, though it appears elsewhere. 
 He wrote beautifully at the age when children in 
 general have scarcely got beyond pot-books, though 
 his uncle always said that his penmanship was mark 
 ed by too great a predilection for flourishes and 
 other ornaments. The same faculty made him a 
 capital hand at ball and cricket, a fisherman of ex 
 quisite tact, (the fact is Donald caught nearly every 
 one of the fine trout that he and Tremaine sent to 
 the Blakes,) a marksman infallible, skilled with the 
 eye and ear, in short, a handy fellow at every thing. 
 Only he couldn't ride, because his seat was not firm : 
 his talent was in his hands. Accident (as people 
 say) taught him that he could draw, rudely enough 
 at first. He practised it ; he got hold of colors. 
 His uncle gave him a box of paints : so it went on. 
 At college he was wild : but in his senior year it 
 happened that a fellow came along taking portraits 
 of the students. The travelling artist was a young 
 man, (he afterwards became a famous artist,) and 
 McAboy got acquainted with him. The passion 
 seized him of being a painter. Followed a corres 
 pondence of some two years between the lad on one 
 side and his uncle and mother on the other. The 
 horror of the latter may be imagined. On no ac- 
 
86 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 count whatever would she consent to such a degra 
 dation. Mr. James McAboy thought his nephew a 
 fool, and wished him either to adopt a profession of 
 greater certainty, or to enter a counting-house ; so 
 when Donald came of age he took the matter into 
 his own hands, and with an obstinacy that charac 
 terized him, in spite of threats that he would be left 
 to provide for himself, entered upon the pursuit he 
 had chosen. Five or six years had since elapsed. 
 He had studied awhile at home, supporting himself 
 by working on backgrounds and accessories for his 
 master. Then he managed to go abroad. I rather 
 think his uncle James supplied the means, but so 
 sparingly that the young man did not escape many 
 severe privations. He had returned about a year 
 before the date of my story, and had succeeded so 
 well that, as we have seen, he thought of marrying. 
 A sanguine temper and an utter disregard of obsta 
 cles might have had something to do with his hardi 
 hood in this respect ; and, also, it may be remembered 
 that the young lady whom he so boldly asked to 
 share his lot was the daughter of a wealthy mer 
 chant. To do Donald justice, however, I believe 
 he thought little of that, and, in fact, as he said 
 his artistic experience had taught him independence 
 in such matters : " I shall have a garret to paint in, 
 any way; and a bed can hide behind the screen 
 
A SNUFF-COLORED TARTAN. 87 
 
 there, as well as a lot of casts and things ; and the 
 woman that loves me must be willing to share 
 these and a crust. Hundreds of artists have done 
 it before me, whose works are now the glory of 
 galleries !" 
 
 Thus Donald McAboy, although he was con 
 nected with wealthy people, owned a name asso 
 ciated with riches, and had a certain right to be 
 rich himself, (if all had been fairly done,) was after 
 all in reality a needy struggler, with vague splen 
 did hopes and real present necessities. At this time 
 he was actually living nearly in the way he hinted 
 at. His studio was the attic of a store in the 
 Blooming Way, divided into rooms by large screens, 
 and one of these was his bedchamber. Here he 
 took his sparing breakfast of bread and coffee, dined 
 at an eating-house, and supped where it chanced, 
 or not at all. He had learned this way of life 
 in Italy, and had got to prefer it. But in dress and 
 some other things he adhered to the plain yet aris 
 tocratic habits formed by his early education. He 
 had not paid his tailor's bill yet, I confess, but he 
 had no doubt of being able to do it in time. I must 
 add that it was not long before Melanie Blake knew 
 all these details as well as himself. It was rather a 
 hard thing that he asked of her, to betroth her 
 self without the consent of her parents, to a man 
 
88 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 with so uncertain a means of living, and who was 
 in a sort disowned by his own family. It was no 
 slight indication of Donald's resolved character and 
 disdain of ordinary obstacles, that he ventured to 
 ask it ; but then he had overcome so many obstacles, 
 and defied so much opposition, that it was become 
 a necessary zest of life to encounter one or the 
 other. I ought also to add that the morals of Mc- 
 Aboy, unlike those of artists in general, had been 
 austere. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 SUCCESS IN PORTRAITURE. 
 
 "No sooner were the Blakes established in their 
 winter quarters, and the young ladies began to 
 promenade in the Blooming Way on sunshiny 
 mornings, like other fair Gothamites of their class, 
 than they met Mr. Thomas Tremaine : for to saun 
 ter up and down that gay street was one of the 
 serious avocations of his life. That he should greet 
 them, and turn back and walk with them, was the 
 next thing. Then, of course, he called in Santaklaus 
 Square, with Mr. McAboy, and Mr. Blake deemed 
 it a necessary civility to return their courtesy of 
 the game by an invitation to dinner. So, as Tre 
 maine said, the fish was hooked, and it required 
 nothing but patience and skill to land it. On a 
 mountain-brook side he was nothing to Donald, but 
 in the swift water of society no angler could be 
 more skilful than Tom. He knew how to give his 
 
90 BLONDE AND BKUNETTE. 
 
 fair, gold-speckled monster line enough, and to a 
 hair's-breadth how much tension his would bear 
 without breaking ; but Donald was a little impet 
 uous, and was for lifting his struggling and darting 
 prey out of the water by main force. 
 
 He took Tremaine's advice, however, pretty 
 much as Tremaine took his in the Sawan-gunk 
 mountains, as they threaded down together the 
 dashing streamlets, over rocks and under young 
 trees. McAboy invited the ladies to visit his 
 studio, and an appointment was made for that 
 purpose. They came. His pictures were shown, 
 and while their admiration was fresh upon them, 
 he seized the opportunity, solicited and obtained 
 the permission of the unwary Mrs. Blake to paint 
 a portrait of both sisters in one picture, for the 
 next exhibition of the Gotham Academy. With a 
 refinement of tact, Tremaine kept out of the way 
 at this first studio visit. So he did the first sitting 
 the sisters had ; but after the first, Xanthine and 
 Melanie came without their mother, matronizing 
 each other, and Melanie, in truth, was very grave 
 and matron-like, though yielding sweet smiles and 
 glances of naive admiration for Donald's pictures ; 
 Xanthine, on the other hand, was saucy and over 
 flowing with spirits, found an immensity of fault 
 with the pictures, and said things to the delighted 
 
SUCCESS IN PORTRAITURE. 91 
 
 McAboy, that bordered on the very edge of rude 
 ness, as Melanie averred. 
 
 It happened also once or twice, by pure accident, 
 that Tremaine called on his cousin when the Misses 
 Blake were sitting, and although it was quite 
 against McAboy's rules to receive male visitors at 
 such times, a laugh of the vivacious Xanthine, while 
 they were discussing the matter at the door, pro 
 cured Tremaine's admission ; but it was singular 
 that this extremely alarmed and annoyed the sage 
 Melanie, who declared she would tell their mother 
 if such a thing happened again. 
 
 But Tremaine knew too well how to make his 
 value felt, to need a resort to clandestine court 
 ship. His position in the society of Gotham allowed 
 him to patronize the Blakes. He got the young 
 ladies invitations which but for him they would not 
 have had, and introduced the whole family, indeed, 
 into a circle to which without such assistance they 
 could not have gained admission. The Blakes' ac 
 quaintance was most respectable, it lay among 
 people of wealth, and pretty equally between Posi 
 tives and Negatives ; but Tremaine belonged to 
 the creme de la creme of Gotham. Why there 
 were even Positive families, or families Positively 
 connected, who previous to this winter, and Tre 
 maine's introduction, did not know the Blakes. 
 
92 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 There was Mrs. Washington Lynch, for instance, 
 (Charlie Lynch's cousin Charlie, you know, being 
 the admirer of Xanthine) there was Mrs. Lynch, 
 I say, who lived in a double front granite house in 
 the Blooming Way, and who had worked with her 
 own hands a superb vestment for Father Rowman, 
 had never advanced further than a bow and smile 
 to the young ladies in Father Rowman's sacristy, 
 or perhaps a chat with Mrs. Blake at a Positive 
 Fair, where they were both on the Ladies' Com 
 mittee ; and neither her partiality for their common 
 spiritual guide, though so intimate with them, nor 
 the eager persuasions of the aforesaid Charlie, had 
 ever induced her to step out of her circle to the 
 Blakes, or to invite them into it, (these things, she 
 said, were " quite separate,") yet now, at a bare 
 suggestion of Tremaine's, hinting that he shouldn't 
 come very early or stay very late at her party un 
 less Miss Xanthine Blake were there, left cards the 
 very next day in Santaklans Square, (nice situa 
 tion ! as she envyingly said, and so it was ! ) and, 
 with the card, pretty little printed notes (as the 
 manner then was) signifying her desire for the 
 pleasure of the company of Mr., Mrs., Miss, and 
 Miss Xanthine Blake, at such an hour on such an 
 evening, at " ISTo 550 Blooming Way." 
 
 Of course the Blakes accepted the invitation, 
 
SUCCESS IN PORTRAITURE. 93 
 
 and they had a vague idea that they owed it to the 
 admiration which their daughters had excited in 
 two young men so fashionably connected as Tre- 
 maine and McAboy, and in accepting the benefit 
 they could not decline the cause. They knew very 
 well that there would be no sweeter-looking, more 
 modest or more prettily-behaved girls in all that 
 throng than theirs, and naturally they must wish 
 them to enjoy themselves, to be noticed by their 
 friends, to be danced with and promenaded and 
 introduced. 
 
 Tremaine did all this, and no one's attention 
 could be more flattering to a girl's vanity in such 
 a scene. He danced with them both, but most 
 with Xanthine ; he walked with her, he introduced 
 her to Mrs. Leary Mortimer (Miss Belle Randolph 
 that was) the rival of Mrs. Lynch in fashion, not 
 so serenely sumptuous, but a more brilliant and 
 younger beauty, and proud of her descent from 
 " one of the first families " of Dominia, the greatest 
 and most ancient commonwealth, as we have ob 
 served, in the Columbian confederacy. 
 
 I must say that the young ladies, once started 
 in this circle, got on very well, -quite to my sur 
 prise indeed at the time, for I made their acquaint 
 ance the same evening. Mrs. Lynch had had 
 them in a manner forced upon her by " that indis- 
 
94 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 pensable Mr. Tremaine," as she said, and I think 
 she meant to receive them with a frigid excess of 
 politeness, to make herself amends. I saw her 
 shrug her white shoulders slightly at. Xanthine's 
 frank familiarity, which, I must say, just fell short 
 of vulgarity, by the evident fact that the child did 
 not dream of anybody being superior to her father 
 and mother and Melanie ! But Melanie colored so 
 vividly at Xanthine's want of tact, and yet whis 
 pered a reproof with such a pretty air of tender 
 ness, that Madame was captivated from that mo 
 ment. She appreciated manner so much, although 
 I am sure it was the inimitable trait of goodness 
 which really won her heart. Mrs. Leary, on the 
 contrary (how could she suspect such a young 
 thing had ever been her rival ? ) petted Xanthine 
 extravagantly, indolently charmed with that warm 
 hearted, natural young Celt. So did Leary him 
 self, and I verily believe it was the wish to show 
 him that he was not so great a loss as he supposed, 
 or as Xanthine said to Melanie, that there were as 
 good fish in the sea as ever were caught, which 
 made her encourage, as she did in her gay, laugh 
 ing way, the particular devotion of Tom Tremaine. 
 At all events, Xanthine's wit, liveliness and gen 
 erous simplicity, took with the multitude ; they 
 conceded to her, as people generally will, the posi- 
 
SUCCESS IN POKTKAITUKE. 95 
 
 tion that she seized so unconsciously. And if some 
 more critical judges stopped to examine her pre 
 tensions, they generally turned to Melanie (so re 
 served, but with so much in her), and were con 
 tent to say they "preferred Miss Blake to her 
 sister." 
 
 Fairly launched, then, that first night, in the 
 gayest society of Gotham, my young heroines went 
 from party to party, in what was for them a whirl 
 of dissipation, at least all through the Christmas 
 holidays and the festive season that lies between 
 them and the inauguration of Lent ; and amid it 
 all, as a little rivulet swells by flowing on, so that 
 what was at first a thread of water across which 
 one might stride, becomes at last a deep and wide 
 stream and needs a boat or a bridge to pass it, in 
 like manner the love of these young ladies, fed by 
 a thousand occasions, and gathering increase from 
 every side, swelled into a stream of passion, neck- 
 deep, no longer fordable, and hurrying on swiftly 
 to a fall. For the nature of the country did not 
 allow of a gradual descent to the sea ; there was a 
 point where the level changed abruptly, and where 
 the now smooth and scarce murmuring waters 
 must fling themselves in foam down a precipice to 
 seek the vale whither they tend. 
 
 Xanthine being now in love with Tom Tre- 
 
96 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 maine, it followed that her heart was all in that 
 gay world where he shone, as well as her form. 
 By nature (for she took from her father's side of 
 the house) she was Celtically careless and what I 
 may call slipshod about her person. I don't mean 
 that her apparel was not whole and clean ; such 
 untidiness belongs to a lower class in society ; but 
 her cape or collar, or whatever girls wore on their 
 necks, was sure to be pinned on one side, Melanie 
 said ; her ringlets, when her sister had made them 
 droop in glossy golden spirals, were thrown back 
 the first time they fell over her face, or tucked 
 unceremoniously behind her ears, and if a child 
 dragged out her comb, back it went " any how," 
 said her sister, (mimicking Xanthine's careless ac 
 tion,) with a finger's length of the beautiful braid 
 hanging loose. If Xanthine's slipper untied, and 
 it was not in a convenient place to adjust it, she 
 would " snap off" the strings or laces, and " go so 
 all day." " Well, I don't care, now," Xanthine 
 would say, plaintively, " I look well enough ; and 
 I declare, Melanie, you are a real old maid." 
 
 It was wonderful what a transformation Tre- 
 maine's influence produced in this dowdyish Xan 
 thine. I know that McAboy, who admired her 
 former picturesque negligence, averred that she 
 reminded him now of one of the colored fashion 
 
SUCCESS IN PORTRAITURE. 97 
 
 plates in the Ladies'* Diurnal, and he would add 
 to Melanie 
 
 " Why do you let your sister eat vinegar and 
 chalk to get rid of that Hebe bloom, and lace her 
 self to death in order to give the true hour-glass 
 mould to a figure that, as it is, I vow, the goddess 
 of the Tribune might envy ? " 
 
 Then Melanie would say in her own national, 
 yet subdued way, " Mr. Tremaine's taste, you 
 know, is ' law and gospel ' with Xanthine. I only 
 wish ./were as plump and rosy as she is." 
 
 Yet Tom, though he hovered around her per 
 petually, didn't speak out, and Xanthine wondered 
 why, innocently attributing his delay sometimes to 
 a lover's timidity, and sometimes to an excessive 
 delicacy in regard to her expectations. For Pat 
 rick Blake, Esq., would sometimes say " Don't 
 go to be taken in, now, girls ! by these danglin' 
 fops, that are afther your feyther's money-bags 
 more than for ye'rselves. I'll be hanged if one ov 
 'em shall ever get me consint to have ye." Mr. 
 Blake even affected to talk in this manner, and the 
 more as he grew richer and older, as if to show 
 he could afford to have a brogue. So Xanthine 
 vibrated in her manner to Tremaine, between fright 
 ened reserve, and frank, tender encouragement: 
 for she had no fear of her father's threats, believing 
 5 
 
98 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 that lie was too kind to thwart her ; and seeing no 
 real difficulty, from her very vivacity of temper 
 and natural candor, she became at last perfectly 
 miserable with concealing her virtuous feelings, 
 and longed with an impatience she could hardly 
 restrain, for the explanation which would author 
 ize her to send Mm to her papa, and to sob out her 
 own story upon her mother's bosom. 
 
 I wonder that Melanie did not watch better 
 over her sister. I wonder she did not tell their 
 mother. I fear she was too selfishly absorbed in 
 her own situation, or perhaps her peculiar embar 
 rassment was so different that one of the nature 
 of Xanthine's did not strike her. My belief is 
 that Melanie was more changed than her sister, by 
 her passion. If Father Rowman missed her kneel 
 ing form at the rite which he was wont to celebrate 
 about daybreak by a dim-lighted altar on the cold 
 winter mornings, it might be said that she had re 
 turned too late from the party of the evening pre 
 vious. If her chaplet, which once she said as 
 regularly as the sun, was omitted day after day, the 
 social duty of returning calls interfered no doubt 
 with that act of devotion. Lent was coming, and 
 would give ample time to be good. But Lent 
 came and found Melanie still occupied. She might 
 truly say that she cared nothing for the parties to 
 
SUCCESS IN PORTRAITURE. 99 
 
 which she could no longer go, nor for the more 
 easily granted indulgence of the theatre and opera. 
 Melanie now was full of Art, and the more the 
 general whirl of dissipation was quieted, the more 
 leisure had she for this fascinating pursuit. Po 
 etry, for which Donald was an enthusiast, was a 
 suitable recreation, she thought all must allow, for 
 Lent. Music, in which he was a proficient, might 
 be cultivated at all times ; and Painting, which was 
 his profession, was a lawful pursuit on the most 
 sacred days, as Father Rowman himself acknowl 
 edged. 
 
 Melanie learned to talk of "keeping" and 
 " effect," of " composition," " drawing," " chiar 
 'oscuro," and " half-tints." She knew all the collat 
 eral themes, was up to the difference between line 
 engraving and stippling, of proofs before and after 
 lettering, discriminated the great masters in McA- 
 boy's fine collection of prints, and appreciated 
 the fame and genius, not only of Raphael, but of 
 Raphael Morghen. Her father noticed pamphlets 
 on the side-table, which he took for Committee 
 Reports, and picking them up, found they were 
 catalogues of paintings. Melanie had tickets for 
 every Exhibition that was open in Gotham. In the 
 evening, when they were at home, she drew from 
 a cast by the light of a shaded lamp, and arranged 
 
100 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 her own hair like the nymph she drew. Her per 
 son, indeed, gave visible signs of her artistic pre 
 occupation. She ransacked all the shops in the 
 Blooming Way for the exact tints of silk or ribbon 
 that suited her complexion or that produced a rich 
 and harmonious dress, used a large classic cameo 
 to pin her shawl, and taught her robe to flow like 
 drapery. 
 
 Donald's portrait of the sisters was finished 
 about the close of the year and was really a hit. 
 It was hung in the Blakes' front drawing-room on 
 New Year's Day, and afforded a fresh topic to the 
 numerous visitors who poured in upon such a fam 
 ily on that favorite festival of the Gothamites. 
 Those who saw and admired it, (and all who saw, 
 admired,) bore the theme away to the next house, 
 and all the fair damsels to whom their cavaliers 
 described it, were of course excited with a strong 
 desire to be painted in the same style themselves. 
 Without sacrificing the fidelity of the likenesses, 
 McAboy, inspired by love as much as by his ge 
 nius, had succeeded in imparting an ideal character 
 an expression of poetry and simplicity to those 
 lovely sisterly faces, which charmed every beholder. 
 By a happy theft, (since the fashion of the day was 
 any thing but poetical,) he stole both the grouping 
 arid the costume from a picture by Titian, of which 
 
SUCCESS IN POKTKAITUKE. 101 
 
 he had an admirable engraving, while in the back 
 ground he introduced Red Fort, with the Hendrick 
 and the Arrowheads, to the delight of the Gotham- 
 ites. The extreme beauty of local color in the 
 heads, which beauty was caught from nature, 
 gained him likewise much applause, and perhaps in 
 the eyes of the few good judges, was not only the 
 greatest merit of the picture, but the best proof 
 of his real talent and knowledge of his art. It 
 procured him immediately a crowd of sitters, chief 
 ly ladies, and several commissions. Mr. De Gro- 
 tius, a great patron of the arts among the old Go- 
 thaniites, being second cousin to Mrs. Blake, had 
 called, according to his invariable custom, in Santa- 
 klaus square on New Year's day, to eat a bit of 
 her spiced cake and drink half a glass of Madeira 
 wine, then part with the compliments of the sea 
 son, not to see or speak to her again till the next 
 Anno Domini. Mr. De Grotius was wonderfully 
 pleased with the portrait of his " charming cous 
 ins," both of whom he kissed in the most orthodox 
 manner, and having asked the address of the paint 
 er, which was written for him on a card in a minute 
 by the blushing Melanic, (the old gentleman shook 
 his cane at her with a funny air, whereat all the 
 ladies laughed,) what followed, of course, but that 
 a few days after he dropped in upon Mr. McAboy, 
 
102 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 bought his unfinished " Cardinal and Columbus," 
 and ordered as a pendant to it, a subject of his 
 own selection, " Galileo in the Inquisition ?" 
 
 The venerable Gothamite staid about two hours 
 explaining to Donald his idea of the picture and of 
 the character of Galileo. 
 
 " Above all," said he, " let the apartment be 
 comfortable, luxurious, if you please furnished 
 with a pair of globes and rich old books. Don't 
 forget a flask of Orvieto on the table, with grapes, 
 and olives, and pasticceria, like an Italian dessert ; 
 and let there be a pale, meek Dominican friar, in 
 his white robes, listening incredulously to the argu 
 ments of the philosopher." 
 
 " It will be a satire," said Donald, smiling. 
 
 " I mean it so," said Mr. De Grotius. 
 
 The day after, a serene yet melancholy Jewish 
 gentleman, who introduced himself as a friend of 
 Mr. De Grotius, called, looked at Donald's pictures, 
 and gave him a commission for " Rebecca in Ivan- 
 hoe," leaving at the same time a sun-drawing, (qy. 
 daguerreotype ?) of a very beautiful woman in an 
 Oriental costume, to serve as a model. He told 
 Donald that it had been taken in the Asiatic city 
 of Ismir, from his only sister, who was married 
 there ; and on going away, he gave his card, 
 " Mr. Manuel Seijas, No. 7 State street : " which 
 
SUCCESS IN PORTRAITURE. 103 
 
 called up to McAboy a pleasant line of mansions in 
 the ancienter part of Gotham. 
 
 Melanie was delighted with Donald's success, 
 and excessively proud of his growing reputation. 
 It was plain that he would give the lie to the dis 
 couraging predictions of his friends, and achieve 
 both fame and fortune in the career that he had 
 chosen. As day after day brought some new sitter 
 to his studio, or some new praise of his talent to 
 her ears, she regarded each as a pledge that her 
 father's consent to their union would be granted, 
 though it might be granted with difficulty. A sort 
 of conditional compact, more implied than express 
 ed, now existed between them, wrapping up her 
 future consent with that of her parents, whenever 
 Donald chose or would venture to ask it. Even so, 
 this young believer in a supernatural creed, which 
 has a terror for every deviation from the straight 
 path, used often to tremble for herself, lest the 
 loss of her earthly happiness, or worse, might be 
 the consequence of her undutiful concealment, her 
 rash, if not profane, attachment. Often and often 
 she felt prompted to go to her mother and confess 
 her own affair, as well as the way that Xanthine 
 was going on. But then Xanthine had been, or 
 thought herself in love many times before was it 
 not likely she would get over it this time as well ? 
 
104 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 How unkind to the child, before Tremaine had 
 spoken, to betray her folly ? Wasn't it probable 
 their mother saw it as well as she (Melanie) did ? 
 In the mean time a new care drove such thoughts 
 away scattered them as the hawk does the inno 
 cent brood of the farm yard. With the first dawn 
 of his fame, a man of genius, especially if he be un 
 married, finds himself surrounded at once by ad 
 mirers of the other sex; and Melanie, although 
 Donald, by his new scale of prices, was to get a 
 hundred and fifty dollars for every single portrait 
 he painted, was sorely annoyed by his female 
 sitters. 
 
 Either they were too beautiful, (in Gotham that 
 would often be the case,) or they did not conduct 
 themselves agreeably to Melanie's strict notions of 
 propriety. In one way or another she was sure to 
 find this out, so that one would have supposed she 
 had an invisible spy in Donald's studio, or that a 
 bird of the air brought her the tale of what hap 
 pened there. Poor girl! what a contrast to the 
 calm she used to enjoy when she had only her own 
 heart to watch over, and her own daily faults and 
 infirmities to reprove and be sorry for, in the 
 nightly examen ! Truly she thought then she had 
 trouble enough, and mortifications sufficient, but 
 it was perfect peace and self-complacency, compared 
 
SUCCESS IN PORTRAITURE. 105 
 
 to her present agitations. She ought to have had, 
 you will say, a nobler confidence in her lover ; but 
 how could she help seeing what was so very plain 
 to less observant eyes, that Donald had a passion 
 ate and almost idolatrous love of beauty, and that 
 his standard of beauty, as he owned, and gloried 
 in it, was that of Pagan Art? The bright hair, 
 the cheek of rose, the rounded and wavy form 
 say of dear Xanthine how had he ever prized 
 them ! 
 
 There was a certain Miss Virginia Randolph, a 
 sister of Mrs. Leary Mortimer, and decidedly the 
 belle of the season, who from the moment that 
 McAboy's success was trumpeted, ran wild for him. 
 Before Donald emerged from the cloud, she had 
 nearly broken "Xanthine's heart,'' as Melanie said, 
 by her desperate flirting with Tremaine, whose star 
 now paled before that of his cousin, all refulgent 
 with genius and nobility : for Miss Virginia found 
 that out too. The long descent of the McAboys, 
 and the ancient castle of Mull, and Donald's mother 
 the Baroness, were topics on which she constantly 
 entertained him while sitting for her portrait in 
 the character of a noble page. It was a half-length, 
 of course, (for of " doublet and hose " only half 
 was admissible even in a portrait) and Donald 
 gave her a rich, umber-brown, satin doublet with 
 5* 
 
106 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 a plume of the same deep tint, to which Miss Ran* 
 dolph strongly objected, although McAboy insisted 
 that it put . in best relief her glowing complexion, 
 and at last she owned she disliked it from its re 
 semblance to the color of snuff. This was Tre- 
 maine's story, which made Xanthine (heartily) 
 and Melanie (bitterly) laugh. Still, the latter could 
 not help making excuses to visit McAboy's studio, 
 with her sister or some other friend, all the while 
 this portrait was going on, for however silly Miss 
 Randolph might be, she was a beauty all the same, 
 and her odious forwardness ("Oh how different 
 from Xanth's unsuspecting candor ! ") had a fasci 
 nation for the "gentlemen," which nearly drove 
 Melanie distracted. 
 
 One day the latter was engaged in shopping 
 and making calls with her friend Mrs. Lynch, and 
 as it was not one of Miss Randolph's days, she 
 was quite easy in her mind. But at last they 
 stopped at Mrs. Mortimer's to perform the fashion 
 able ceremony of leaving cards, the ladies, as they 
 expected, being out on so fine a day. Mrs. Lynch 
 quietly opened her card case, without a word 
 either of pleasure or the contrary, but Melanie 
 leaned forward and beckoning to the servant, said 
 as she produced hers "Did they go out to 
 gether ? " " No, miss," the man replied, " Mrs. 
 
SUCCESS IN PORTRAITURE. 107 
 
 Mortimer went out first in the carriage, and Miss 
 Randolph walked out by herself afterwards." Me- 
 lanie leaned back, and placed her card with Mrs. 
 Lynch's in silence, but with a changing counte 
 nance. This was in Crayon Place, and Donald's 
 rooms were just on the corner in the Blooming 
 Way. So when the carriage, now driving rapidly 
 home, (for Melanie was to dine enfamille with her 
 friend,) turned into the great thoroughfare, she ex 
 claimed as if the thought had suddenly struck her. 
 " Oh ! Josephine ! let us stop at Mr. McAboy's 
 studio. He has no sitters to-day, and it will be 
 such a fine chance." Melanie meant a fine opportu 
 nity ; but she was a true, unaffected little Gotham- 
 ite. 
 
 " What a dear, good-for-nothing hypocrite you 
 are ! " said Mrs. Lynch, drawing the check-string, 
 (as ladies' novels say,) and the carriage stopped at 
 the door where to pursue the same style with 
 that of a fashionable milliner who had her show 
 rooms on the second floor, Donald's modest sign 
 glittered D. McABOY, in gilt letters on a dark 
 brown tin. The ladies got out, and as the door 
 was always open, ascended without delay the long 
 stairs, which filled the whole breadth of the nar- 
 row hall. 
 
CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 A STUDIO SCENE. 
 
 THE ground floor of the store was the shop of a 
 fashionable jeweller, whose glittering wares filled 
 the plate-glass windows of enormous panes, and 
 among these were seen many elegant works of art 
 as well as of luxury bronze groups, and Parian 
 statuettes, of every variety of subject, from the 
 Christ of Thorwaldsen to the voluptuous Ariadne 
 of Dannecker. The first flight of well-carpeted 
 stairs from the side entrance of the building, led to 
 a landing where glass doors opened into the show 
 rooms of Madame Rose Ruban. Here on long 
 tables stood little iron frames, each supporting a 
 "love of a bonnet," and intermingled with the 
 ready sales-women all around the tables, stood 
 loves of ladies, admiring, trying on, pricing and 
 buying those adorable chefs cfrceuvres of millinery. 
 Xanthine and Melanie both got their bonnets this 
 year of Madame Ruban, which is to say that they 
 
A STUDIO SCENE. 109 
 
 were perfect ; so did Mrs. Lynch hers, always ; and 
 Mrs. Mortimer, hers ; and Miss Randolph had pre 
 sented to her on ~New Year's day, one of the love 
 liest and most bewitching hats (as the Gothamites 
 called them) to which Madame Ruban herself ever 
 gave the finishing touch. It was considered so 
 beautiful that when Miss R. had worn it long 
 enough to take off the novelty, but not to soil or 
 injure it the least in the world, she laid it by in a 
 band-box, meaning to dazzle the Dominians with 
 it, in case she went home during the winter; but 
 she did not, and the band-box got left behind at 
 her abrupt departure from Gotham, and some two 
 or three seasons after an age in millinery 
 chanced to come to light ; I saw it opened by a* 
 party of young ladies at Mrs. Mortimer's, and such 
 screams of laughter I desire never to hear again 
 " Is it possible," cried they to Mrs. M., " you ever 
 wore such a fright of a bonnet as that ! Oh, the 
 hideous thing ! " And one after another tried 
 it on, 
 
 " While unextinguished laughter shook the skies." 
 
 But this is a digression, since our story has nothing 
 in particular to do with the bonnets of Madame 
 Ruban. 
 
 To proceed ; the second flight of stairs, which was 
 
110 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 narrower, led to the story occupied by the work 
 rooms of that lady's establishment, and here, too, 
 the doors were usually open, showing a considerable 
 number of young females within, all busily occupied 
 in the various departments of bonnet making, but 
 most of whom, however, found time to look up or 
 turn their heads when any one passed. And no 
 doubt a keen-eyed medical man, arresting his steps 
 on the threshold, would have been able to determine 
 pretty accurately, from the eye, the complexion, 
 the figure, the attitude in sitting, the general air 
 and nameless expression of each, with what variety 
 of physical, or even mental or moral disorder she 
 was affected, in consequence of the sedentary occu 
 pation, the confined atmosphere, the lack of pure 
 air and general exercise, the objects of ingenious 
 vanity which it was their business to create, by the 
 infection of that frivolity, extravagance and wilful- 
 ness to which they ministered in their humble work 
 room, by all the consequences of a slender salary, 
 by the week of leisureless, fretting toil, monoto 
 nous and minute, and the holiday of indolent pros 
 tration or idle, perhaps sinful, amusement, by the 
 rust of evil thoughts never removed from the mind's 
 fair surface, or the stain of evil words and actions 
 never purified, who does not know these things, 
 and who knows how to remedy them ? 
 
A STUDIO SCENE. Ill 
 
 These young women have not much to do with 
 our story either, except that when the sisters were 
 sitting to Donald, Xanthine's giddiness brought her 
 and Melanie one day into their work-room, where 
 the fore-woman treated them with great politeness 
 as customers of Madame, " There go two of our 
 bonnets up-stairs ! " was the expression of one, when 
 the young ladies first passed the door and Xan- 
 thine in her merry way asked the girls questions 
 respecting Mr. McAboy. Did he come down and 
 " make love " to them ? Was he a civil neighbor ? 
 And so on. And the girls gave him an excellent 
 character. Mr. McAboy was very friendly, they 
 said, and very much of a gentleman. He used to 
 watch them making endless changes of bows, and 
 fitting them on with a dexterity and taste worthy 
 of nobler employments, and condescended to give 
 his opinion in regard to the colors and combina 
 tions of flowers and silk. One of the girls was 
 pointed out as his favorite a giggling, blushing 
 creature, who monopolized all the carmine of this 
 pale sisterhood in her cheeks and lips, and was pos 
 sessed of extraordinary fine eyes. She had sat to 
 Donald for her eyes and lips, and once for her arm, 
 which was also of great beauty. She told Melanie 
 that he was " very funny and a perfect gentleman ; " 
 which Melanie understood as well as the blunt ex- 
 
112 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 pressions of another a young lady from the East 
 ern State of Penobscot who said, in a loud voice 
 before everybody, " Mr. McAboy isn't proud nor 
 nothin', neither ; he's jus' so, he is ; and he never 
 takes no liberties with nobody, nor says nothin' im 
 proper, he don't " which made Melanie blush and 
 say quickly ; " Oh, of course not ! " But Xanthine 
 laughed outright. 
 
 Donald's rooms were on the floor above that 
 occupied by these young ladies, and his stair, being 
 closed in with a door at the foot, secured by lock 
 and bolt, went straight up into his anteroom for 
 the whole floor was his apartment, from back to 
 front, lighted principally from above, and divided 
 off" by dark-brown screens into three rooms, afford 
 ing a fine vista when the doors were open, broken 
 by India-red draperies, white casts, tall easels, 
 and pictures new and old. The middle portion was 
 the painting-room ; beyond that was a sleeping, bath 
 and dressing-room, all in one. It was a share in 
 these accommodations that he had had the courage 
 to offer to Melanie Blake, till now that his popular 
 ity made him feel the necessity of supporting (if he 
 married) a style more conformable to the opinions 
 of the world. Talk of independence! It is the 
 poor and obscure who alone are independent. 
 The rich and the celebrated are the slaves of aii 
 mankind. 
 
A STUDIO SCENE. 118 
 
 Donald was alone that morning, it being one of 
 the days when he had no sitters. His business had 
 reached that point that it was necessary, in order to 
 secure time for his historical subjects, to confine 
 the portraiture to certain days. He had some time 
 since finished the Columbus, and was now engaged 
 upon the Galileo, for which he anticipated a long 
 morning of genial, uninterrupted labor. I know 
 not why your gifted artist is usually represented in 
 novels and romantic stories as a rather unhealthy, 
 morbidly imaginative individual, with a strong ten 
 dency (the only strong thing about him) to consump 
 tion or insanity. Donald was not of this sort cer 
 tainly. His frame was singularly vigorous and 
 athletic ; his chest was broad and deep ; his limbs 
 well formed and muscular. He wore at his work a 
 reddish-brown robe (his favorite color the same 
 to which Miss Randolph objected from its resem 
 blance to that of snuff) trimmed with fur, and a 
 velvet cap to match it, made like that with which 
 Leonardo da Vinci is usually painted. In Italy, 
 where McAboy wore his whole beard, he was said 
 to resemble the portrait of Da Vinci, and the ar 
 tists at the Greco used to call him Leonardo. There 
 was a general massiveness and gravity in Donald's 
 physiognomy that bore out the title well enough. 
 After his genius was acknowledged, indeed, people 
 
114 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 discovered that he was handsome, though large 
 featured ; that he had an immense volume of brain 
 gloriously housed ; while over the orbits of his pen 
 etrating eyes the perceptive faculties (using the 
 language of phrenology, without meaning to say, if 
 I think it true or false) had built their most impos 
 ing, low-browed arch. 
 
 Donald's manner of working was interesting. 
 His movements were deliberate, quiet, steady. 
 When actually using the pencil, his touch was rapid 
 and decisive, but not hurried, not abrupt. Often 
 he was tranquilly absorbed in thought, or gazed 
 upon his picture, while with slow (as if delighted) 
 certainty of skill, he mixed the colors on his palette, 
 and a smile of ineffable sweetness wreathed his 
 calm lips. For my part I never wondered that 
 many a girl was found for whom that undoubted 
 power had attractions, and who could discover a 
 great charm in that dark, massively featured face, 
 in the broad white brow overhanging it, in the 
 piercing eye, the deep manly voice, and stout, but 
 well-knit frame of McAboy, which if not precisely 
 graceful in its outlines, was eminently so in his 
 carriage of it. And besides, there was one thing 
 about Donald which made him immensely capti 
 vating, as Melanie, for instance, considered it. 
 With his ardent susceptibility for the beautiful, 
 
A STUDIO SCENE. 115 
 
 which determined his choice of Art, and drew him 
 on in the pursuit of it, by the perpetual allurement 
 of pleasure, there was united a tenacity of will 
 most remarkable. McAboy not only aimed at the 
 beautiful, not only was passionately affected by it, 
 but he patiently toiled to acquire the minutest de 
 tail of practical skill necessary to create it, and in 
 all his social intercourse, however ardently he might 
 love, however eagerly he might enjoy, the end of 
 his art was steadily in view. He had concentration 
 of purpose, and this is a quality which strongly at 
 tracts others. Art was his mistress, and his de 
 votion to her gained him the favor of many a one 
 besides. 
 
 "But Virginia Randolph may appreciate this 
 noble passion as well as I," thought Melanie, with 
 an impatient sigh, " and perhaps she can gratify it 
 more." 
 
 Donald was at work, as I mentioned, on the 
 picture of Galileo. He had read up the history in 
 a book Mr. De Grotius lent him, and it had inter 
 ested his imagination. Opposite him, pinned to 
 a portfolio that rested on an easel, was an Italian 
 engraving of the head of the astronomer. It was a 
 clear, logical, self-sufficient head and face, such as 
 you may see in many of our modern reformers and 
 progressive people. Donald was working it in fa- 
 
116 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 ihously, giving breadth and grandeur, yet preserv 
 ing a strong identity of character. The figure was 
 already sketched on the canvas in outline, and the 
 spectres of a table, books, a globe, a decanter or flask 
 of wine, fruit, of a pug-nosed, progressive looking 
 dog under the philosopher's chair, and of a standing 
 figure in sacerdotal robes, were likewise delineated. 
 McAboy had rejected his patron's idea of a Domini 
 can friar, and preferred to follow the history by in 
 troducing the Cardinal, the friend of Galileo, in 
 whose house he was at one time actually confined. 
 After long efforts to conjure down the phantom 
 of Father Rowman, which still haunted his fancy, 
 he had succeeded in calling up the countenance 
 that realized his conception. He made a drawing 
 of it immediately on the canvas intended for the 
 picture, and so perfectly did it satisfy his idea, that, 
 forthwith securing it by India ink, he had at once 
 painted in the carnations and filled in the details, 
 with light washes of paint, fearing to lose the ex 
 pression by charging too richly with color. This 
 head, then, serene, princely, benevolent, a little 
 derisive and softly contemptuous was finished, 
 and looked down upon the forming features of the 
 philosopher. It was that of one who admitted the 
 physical truth the latter was defending, but calmly 
 opposed its being set up against the apparent au- 
 
A STUDIO SCENE. 117 
 
 thority of the sacred books, with the intention of 
 discrediting their inspiration. The humor of this 
 picture was peculiarly in the vein of McAboy, whose 
 love for ancient poetry made him consider that the 
 old theory of the sun going round the earth and 
 dipping each night his flaming axle in the western 
 ocean the theory of the senses was far better 
 adapted to influence the imagination than the 
 mathematical system of Galileo and Copernicus. 
 
 But as the fates would have it, (as he said after 
 wards,) he was not destined that day to finish in 
 peace the figure of the starry Galileo. We have, 
 indeed, insinuated our description of the work in 
 which he was engaged, to show what a martyr he 
 was to the forwardness of one young lady and the 
 jealousy of another. For while he was innocently 
 deepening the healthful glow of age in the cheek 
 of the Florentine discoverer, a soft, musical tingle- 
 ingle-ingle of his bell warned him of a visitor. With 
 the palette on his thumb, and the mahl-stick in 
 hand, he went to the head of the stair, and by the 
 aid of a string (an invention he had imported from 
 Italy) raised the latch of the door below. The 
 latter opened, and who should enter the little 
 lobby but Miss Virginia Randolph ? 
 
 The young lady was attired in her famous bon 
 net, and in a habit to match of rich brown satin of 
 
118 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 great elegance, with large sleeves and cuffs, and 
 rich flowing lace collar and sleeves, (McAboy him 
 self designed the jacket or corsage,) in which, 
 since she had been persuaded out of her objection 
 to the color, she was accustomed to sit to him ; and 
 the astute painter divined in a moment that for 
 that purpose she had come. From the top of the 
 stair a brief flight his dark eye twinkled with 
 a grave humor as it looked down upon the elegant 
 apparition. It had come, said the ghost in lace 
 and brown satin the brownie I might call it to 
 ask if Mr. McAboy (Here the door behind her 
 closed of its own accord with a soft slam, by reason 
 of a patent spring with which it was furnished, 
 and Miss Virginia started and cried " Gracious ! ") 
 to ask if Mr. McAboy (advancing a step or two in 
 genuously up the stair) could not name an earlier 
 hour for the sitting of to-morrow, as Bell (her sis 
 ter) was engaged after twelve o'clock and could 
 not accompany her. 
 
 The painter began politely u Pray walk up 
 and sit down, Miss Virginia," she came up and 
 took the edge of a chair for form's sake. " Really, 
 an earlier hour than twelve is, I fear, impossible, 
 unless you can come before breakfast, Miss Vir 
 ginia. The morning is absolutely filled up. A 
 later hour any from noon to sunset is at your 
 service." 
 
A STUDIO SCENE. 119 
 
 " No, that won't do." 
 
 " I don't know what I can do for you " with 
 a fine smile " unless I engage a couple of young 
 ladies to meet you here at twelve, as Mrs. Morti 
 mer fails you. Miss Melanie Blake, I am sure, 
 would be too happy." 
 
 " Miss Melariie Blake ! " cried the brown ghost 
 with manifest impatience. " No, I don't want her. 
 She is always here, I think, at my sittings. I 
 would rather come all alone by myself than she 
 should be here to play spy ! " 
 
 " As you please, Miss Virginia. Suppose you 
 stay now. What hinders ? " quoth the painter, 
 mixing several tints upon his palette in a quiet way, 
 to form a most beautiful brown, which had a singu 
 lar resemblance to the color of the ghost's glossy, 
 abundant hair, and of her large liquid eyes. 
 
 " What ! " cried the brownie, with a merry 
 laugh, and bending her beautiful head and hat al 
 most to her knee " what ! all by myself! How 
 droll you are, Mr. McAboy! But just for the 
 joke of the thing I have a great mind to take you 
 at your word." 
 
 " I shan't feel in the least degree awkward if 
 you do," said the artist. "A painter's studio is a 
 place too much haunted by the daughters of Eve 
 to be scared by their visits. Solitary, like the 
 
120 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 water-fowl that has wandered from the rest in co 
 quetry or heedlessness to the brink of some clear, 
 silent lake, or in companies, like those who make 
 the reedy shore vocal with their shrill gabble, their 
 presence is familiar," said he dreamily ; " and in 
 every variety of costume, I may add " regarding 
 the brownie with a twinkling glance " like the 
 varied plumage of the web-footed creatures ; from 
 the satin pelisse of une fille noble, like Miss Ran 
 dolph, to the first full-dress of their common an 
 cestress." 
 
 " What was that ? " demanded the ghost, with 
 a bewildered look, and in perfect simplicity. 
 
 " What the fille noble wears under her satin, 
 and the beggar under her rags, and neither ever 
 puts off," quoth the painter, with a smile. 
 
 " You talk in riddles," said the brownie, more 
 puzzled still, " and I was always dull at a conun 
 drum. But you really think that I had better 
 take my sitting now, since I can't come to-mor 
 row ? " 
 
 " Certainly," replied the artist, with a sparkling 
 eye. " Come, Miss Virginia ! I will paint you to 
 day as you were never painted." He went before 
 her into the painting-room and turned the Galileo 
 with its face to the wall : " What a fool ! " he in 
 ternally exclaimed ; " but as handsome as Venus ; 
 
A STUDIO SCENE. 121 
 
 and no opportunity is to be neglected of making 
 one's-self familiar with that divine form by which 
 alone our art is able to express the greatest 
 thoughts." 
 
 So while this weak young lady was led into a 
 very indiscreet action by her infatuated love, (I 
 suppose I must call it,) the artist was induced to 
 encourage her in it by the ruling motive of acquir* 
 ing a good study for his portfolio, and increase of 
 knowledge for his teeming brain in which he was 
 more successful than he anticipated, as he always 
 counted on being obliged to contribute out of his 
 own stores the expression to those features, and 
 that form, which wanted nothing else to be as beau 
 tiful and noble, in his opinion, as any thing mortal 
 could be. 
 
 Miss Randolph, indeed, rattled away in her 
 usual thoughtless manner, while she was taking off 
 her bonnet and arranging her brown hair to float 
 on her shoulders in the way required by the pic 
 ture, but she had not been long seated in the sit 
 ter's chair before she started up, exclaiming : " Sup 
 pose, Mr. McAboy, that some of your friends 
 should drop in upon you unceremoniously ? They 
 would walk right in, perhaps. Oh ! I should die 
 of embarrassment." 
 
 "The door is latched," replied the painter 
 
122 BLONDE AND BEUNETTE. 
 
 coolly, directing her with the mahl-stick to resume 
 her position. " Nobody can get in without a pass 
 key." 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " resuming her seat with an air of 
 mingled satisfaction and fright; "then we are 
 locked in ! Oh, my goodness ! '' cried the fair 
 Yengeese, (as foreigners call all the inhabitants of 
 the Columbian confederacy,) turning quite pale, 
 " what should I do, Mr. McAboy, if some of your 
 lady friends were to call and insist on coming 
 up?" 
 
 " I would not admit them further than the ante 
 room," said Donald, keenly watching her and paint 
 ing. " That's my rule when I have sitters. If jou 
 liked I would tell them I had a model, which 
 would effectually bar their curiosity." 
 
 " A model ! " cried Virginia, clasping her hands 
 and bursting into tears. . " Just now, Mr. McAboy, 
 you insinuated that I was a wild goose (I under 
 stood your allusion to water-fowl and web-footed 
 creatures, sir !) and now you hint that I am a 
 model } I see that that is the only light in which 
 you regard me ! " weeping and using her lace-edged 
 handkerchief. 
 
 With difficulty Donald soothed her. He con 
 vinced her that he had meant nothing by the word 
 model, "because," said he, "a model is paid for 
 

 A STUDIO SCENE. 123 
 
 sitting, whereas you are to pay me for painting 
 you. " 
 
 " I am sure that makes a great difference ! " 
 said Miss Randolph, with a little half -offended, 
 half-appeased shake of the head. 
 
 But the web-footed allusion was not so easily 
 made clear, (which shows the danger of talking 
 poetry to fools, or to those whom you think such,) 
 and the even balance of tranquillity could not be 
 restored. Nor was the calm and subtle painter 
 sorry, we fear. He sympathized deeply with his 
 sitter's distress, of course ; but professional interest 
 overpowered his sympathy, so that the chief thing 
 after all of which he was sensible in her mortal per 
 turbation, was the serious and passionate play which 
 it gave to her perfect features, and which, with the 
 unconscious attitude of listening expectation and 
 alarm that her no less perfect figure assumed, ar 
 rested his attention, and was eagerly transferred to 
 the canvas, now with the pencil armed with colors, 
 and now with the more rapid crayon. 
 
 " I am going to make a surprising picture of 
 you," said he at last, in his quietest manner.' " Shall 
 I explain it ? (A little more to the right, if you 
 please. Give me your full face it is heavenly per 
 fect.) You will be habited richly as a page." 
 
 " I know that," said Virginia impatiently. 
 
124 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 " But I have altered entirely your expression 
 and attitude in this sitting, so as to give the circum 
 stance a new meaning. Both now convey alarm and 
 apprehension of surprise." 
 
 " How cruel you are ! " ejaculated she. 
 
 " To account for this," pursued the imperturba 
 ble Donald, with a sweet smile, (as if that were 
 amends enough,) " the background (I shall work it 
 in as soon as you are gone) is the dark stone wall 
 of a prison (I shall charge it with color, but the 
 general tone of the picture will be so deep and rich 
 that it will appear of a cool gray) " 
 
 " You know," said Virginia, " that I never 
 understand about the tone of a picture. You must 
 talk to Miss Melanie Blake about those things." 
 
 " Well, on this gray prison wall behind you the 
 sunlight plays through a grated window, of which 
 it defines the form by the shadow. You are looking 
 up at the window itself, (which we can't see,) but 
 we perceive by the shadow on the wall that the bars 
 are partly wrenched off. Grasping one of them is 
 seen the shadow of a great gloved hand and wrist 
 DO more. The story is, you observe, that somebody 
 outside a gallant cavalier of course is attempt 
 ing your deliverance from the dungeon ; to facili 
 tate which you have taken this disguise ; and an in 
 distinct white garment lies, carelessly thrown, on 
 
A STUDIO SCENE. 125 
 
 the table beside you, to intimate still further the 
 exchange you have made. But," Virginia was 
 now very attentive " in the furthest and darkest 
 background, in a sort of recess, a door of heavy bars 
 and bolts is seen half open, and an ill-omened face 
 peering in glares upon you. " 
 
 Miss Randolph gave a little shriek of real or af 
 fected terror, and at the same instant McAboy's bell 
 gave a clear, sudden tingle-ingle-ingle, as if pro 
 duced by a frank pull, and announcing unembar 
 rassed visitors. 
 
 
 
CHAPTER XY. 
 
 TO WHICH ENTER TWO LADIES. 
 
 WHEN Mrs. Lynch and Melanie arrived at Mc- 
 Aboy's door, and the former had rung, they stood 
 gayly chatting about the place and its convenience, 
 and the vicinage of Madame Ruban's establish 
 ment, for at least three minutes, yet nobody came, 
 and Mrs. Lynch said " He is out." " No, he is 
 not," replied Miss Blake, " for I heard some one 
 step quite plainly." " Oh, then, let us rouse him 
 up," cried the fashionable matron, turning quickly 
 to the bell-handle, to which she gave another pull, 
 heartier than the first, as much as to say " Come, 
 I'm not going to have my journey up these stairs 
 for nothing ! " And after a brief further delay 
 the latch was lifted, the ladies pushed the door 
 open against the resistance of the spring, and lo ! 
 McAboy, in his painting-robe, the palette on his 
 
TO WHICH ENTER TWO LADIES. 127 
 
 thumb, and the mahl-stick in his hand, at the head 
 of the stair. 
 
 " Is that the way you keep your lady-visitors 
 waiting, Mr. Donald?" asked Mrs. Lynch, in a 
 brusque manner that she often affected, besides 
 that she was distantly related to the McAboys. 
 
 " Not all of them, I bet," said the younger 
 lady, sotto voce. 
 
 " Please walk up, ladies," said McAboy. " I 
 hope you will excuse my having made you wait, as 
 I was really at the moment so engaged that I could 
 not break off." 
 
 " Oh, I excuse you since you have let us in at 
 last," said Mrs. Lynch, " and so, I presume, does 
 Miss Blake." 
 
 " I trust so," said Donald, taking Melanie's 
 hand for a moment. 
 
 She noticed that his hand trembled, and that 
 his manner altogether was agitated ; neither cir 
 cumstance was unusual in addressing herself, or in 
 exchanging the common greeting of friendship 
 with her ; but she knew not whether that lack of 
 self-command in a person otherwise so calm ought 
 in this instance to gratify her so much as it gener 
 ally did. I am not sure that it ought not to have 
 gratified her more, for charming as Melanie was to 
 the eye that judged by the exquisite indications of 
 
128 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 talent, feeling, modesty and purity, playing over 
 her clear features or permanently enthroned there, 
 in the point of mere personal beauty, of the physi 
 cal traits of woman, she could not but suffer in the 
 immediate comparison of Virginia Randolph, espe 
 cially when an inveterate classicist like McAboy 
 was to decide. 
 
 Melanie did not expect that Donald would 
 invite them into the painting-room, (she was sure 
 there was a reason why he should not,) but he did 
 invite them, with an air somewhat embarrassed, so 
 that she was puzzled again what to think. 
 
 " Oh, you haven't a sitter, then ? " said Mrs. 
 Lynch, carelessly, " I began to think you had, not 
 withstanding Melanie said it was one of your days 
 for ' history ' isn't that what you call it, dear ? " 
 
 " I hardly venture to call my fancy pictures 
 historical," replied McAboy. " De genre, I sup 
 pose, is what they may fairly be termed." 
 
 " Pray show us all you have got here, Mr. Mc 
 Aboy," exclaimed Melanie, with sweet animation ; 
 for her suspicions vanished when she saw the Ga 
 lileo on the easel, and her heart reproached her for 
 having felt them. " See, Josephine ! this is only 
 the commencement of one, but isn't it beautiful ? 
 Was ever any thing finer than the head of the 
 Cardinal ? How firm that man's will is ! how clear 
 
TO WHICH ENTER TWO LADIES. 129 
 
 his ideas ! Can't you see it all ? It is a sort of a 
 Positive picture," (in a whisper,) " though Donald 
 Mr. McAboy, I mean does not acknowledge 
 that." 
 
 " It is merely my conception of the truth of 
 the history, and of the characters introduced," said 
 McAboy gravely. 
 
 " Yes," said Melanie, with great sweetness and 
 vivacity, "but, as Father Rowman observed to 
 you, sir, the truth of history is all on our side. So 
 it is isn't it, Josephine ? I have always heard 
 that ever since I was born." 
 
 Donald laughed, and then checked himself. 
 
 " Have you done much to it this morning ? " 
 asked Melanie, in a confidential tone, (Mrs. Lynch, 
 like most well-bred people who know nothing about 
 pictures, said nothing, but looked and listened.) 
 
 " Not a great deal," replied McAboy, with 
 constraint. " I have been over the head of Galileo 
 once nearly." 
 
 " Oh ! for a whole morning's work that is very 
 little. I'm afraid you have been dreaming, Don 
 ald," (the last word or two in an absolute whisper.) 
 " Let's see what else there is here." 
 
 She rose quickly, and at the same moment Mrs. 
 Lynch asked McAboy to explain the meaning of 
 the wine-flask, glass, and plate of fruit, all carefully 
 6* 
 
130 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 drawn in outline upon the table in the picture. 
 Pie did so with an eye upon Melanie, who presently 
 singled out the Columbus, and begged him to 
 bring it forward. While he was settling it on the 
 easel it was the largest size of easel-pictures she 
 stepped back, and in her confiding way turned a 
 canvas that was stuck in a corner as if there were 
 something on it. 
 
 " Oh," said she, in a sarcastic tone, " here's the 
 Page, Josephine." 
 
 " Is that Virginia Randolph ? " said Mrs. Lynch, 
 immediately interested. " Let us see it, pray ? " 
 
 " Pardon me," said Donald, hastily taking it 
 from Melanie's hands " it is wet." 
 
 " But you will show it to us, won't you ? " Mrs. 
 Lynch said, for Melanie was now silent. 
 
 McAboy rather doggedly placed it in a position 
 to be seen. 
 
 " How did you ever contrive to throw so much 
 expression into Virginia Randolph's face ? " ex 
 claimed Mrs. Lynch, after looking at it for some 
 time. 
 
 " Her features are capable of the finest expres 
 sion," said Donald, quietly. 
 
 " And her figure too, I should judge by this. 
 Really, it quite makes me nervous eh ! Melanie ? 
 It is surprisingly animated and natural, isn't it ? " 
 
TO WHICH ENTER TWO LADIES. 131 
 
 " Oh, very ! " said Melanie, emphatically, and 
 drawing an involuntary sigh. 
 
 " I see the story," continued Mrs. Lynch, to 
 whose apprehension this picture completed al 
 ready in outline by McAboy's rapid crayon was 
 level. " I see the story, but can't imagine how 
 you ever got her to act it, or how you could draw 
 it so natural, without that. It is a wonderful art." 
 
 " She never acted it," said Melanie in a low 
 tone. 
 
 " Well, I believe so, Melanie. So much the 
 greater praise is due to Mr. McAboy's genius. I 
 am quite proud of you, sir." 
 
 Donald colored again, in his dark swarthy way, 
 and Melanie rose languidly, and walked round the 
 room. Her eyes sought at first the corners half 
 hidden by pictures, or tall canvases designed for 
 future chefs cPceuvre, or by a drapery thrown care 
 lessly over a colossal cast. At one such nook, as 
 she approached it, she absolutely gave a little 
 shriek to see a female form crouching, then blushed 
 and laughed (awkwardly) as a clearer view showed 
 her that it was only Donald's lay figure. At last 
 she turned her eye slowly and shyly towards the 
 door of the innermost apartment, or rather parti 
 tion, of the studio. " No ! " thought she, " that is 
 impossible." She reflected. " I have done him 
 
132 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 injustice in my weak jealousy," she said. " He 
 has painted on her picture this morning, I see, but 
 those surprising improvements he has made are 
 due to his own powerful imagination to his genius, 
 as Josephine says." And Melanie glanced at Don 
 ald tenderly, and recalled his slight confusion and 
 tremor in saluting her, attributing both willingly 
 now to that ardent but respectful love so manly 
 yet so delicate which he had ever manifested for 
 her. 
 
 So thinking, and asking humbly how she de 
 served to be loved so, and, gratefully, could it be 
 wrong, imprudent or unmaidenly for her to return 
 it as she did, with devoted affection ? she moved 
 by a sort of feminine habit, towards the mirror 
 where McAboy's sitters, those of her own sex at 
 least, were w r ont to adjust their toilette before sit 
 ting ; a piece of vanity (which I have heard him 
 say) the browner balance of creation (these artists 
 have curious opportunities of observation) seldom 
 omitted either. Melanie drew near the glass a 
 fine French plate in an old gilt frame, which Don 
 ald had picked up at an auction and true as reality 
 it reflected back her own expressive, feeling coun 
 tenance. Madame Ruban's finest flowers though 
 they suited her dark, clear complexion exactly 
 were pale to the. roses of her cheek ; her fine eyes 
 
TO WHICH ENTER TWO LADIES. 138 
 
 swam with a tender compunction ; and as she 
 dropped the lids to let a soft tear trickle down 
 from each, through the mist and half-closed fringes 
 of jetty lashes, she perceived on the floor, at the 
 foot of a table that stood close by, a small pink- 
 white glove, with the mould of the hand in it. 
 
 What a strange revulsion of sentiment that 
 little glove produced in the young lady whose tear 
 ful eye thus lighted upon it ! Melanie picked it 
 up, and submitted it to a close and discriminating 
 inspection. It was spotless white, (save and except 
 the pink shade before noticed,) and not a thread 
 of the sewing was broken ; hardly had it a wrinkle 
 to break the smooth mould of the hand which had 
 worn it not more than once. The silken braid 
 by which it was to be secured at the wrist, was 
 fresh and unworn. 
 
 A woman does not analyze the process by which 
 she arrives at a conclusion, though it be a fine and 
 subtle chain of argument, over which she passes 
 so rapidly that the result seems like an intuitive 
 judgment to herself as well as others. Whence 
 came that little glove ? It never had lain about on 
 the table and the floor, in Donald's studio, timid paint 
 and dust, for twenty-four hours, to be so fresh and 
 clean now. Besides, who sat to him yesterday? 
 Miss Broadband from up the river ? nor she, nor 
 
134 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 her mother, or sisters ever drew on or off a glove 
 like that without tearing it to shreds. Mrs. Glide- 
 now, (one of Donald's cousins,) whose gloves were 
 so shabby that Josey Lynch dropped her acquaint 
 ance on that account? Miss Deuil? the whole 
 family in deepest mourning ! No, no ! this spotless 
 little, delicate glove belonged to none of them, and 
 to no other but Virginia Randolph, so vain of her 
 hands, and so silly as well as extravagant that she 
 made a boast of never wearing the same pair twice. 
 She had been there this morning, she had sat for 
 that picture, she had been alone, (well might she 
 have exhibited that natural alarm which Donald 
 had caught so perfectly!) She was there still! 
 hiding (O shame !) in his room. Quite clear and 
 plain Melanie saw how it was. Bonnet and gloves 
 had been deliberately laid aside at the glass, and 
 deposited on the table. When the visitors came, 
 and insisted on being admitted, the young lady 
 would secrete herself; her "things" were hastily 
 transferred to the hiding-place ; and in the haste 
 one of the gloves had been dropped, or had fallen 
 ('twas likely) out of the bonnet, their usual recep 
 tacle. The start the proposal to hide the con 
 cealment the running to and fro with the things 
 the substitution of one picture for another on the 
 easel, and turning that on which Donald had been 
 
TO WHICH ENTER TWO LADIES. 135 
 
 engaged, with its face to the wall in an out-of-the- 
 way corner all this humiliating scene Melanie in 
 fancy saw. How McAboy sank in her esteem! 
 How her pride was wounded, through him, by him ! 
 As for Virginia, why Melanie was forgiving, but 
 there are some injuries which women find so many 
 good reasons for not forgiving ! All her virtuous 
 indignation was roused by conduct so indelicate, 
 so unprincipled ! Open disgrace was its merited 
 punishment, and secret contempt the lightest it 
 could hope to escape with. 
 
 " Pray, whose glove is this, Donald ? " cried 
 she, with her Celtic frankness, holding it up, and 
 forgetting, in the quick resentment that mantled 
 in her cheeks and sparkled in her eyes, to call him 
 " Mr. McAboy " before Mi s. Lynch. 
 
 " Whose glove ? " repeated Donald, startled by 
 the suddeness and the tone of the question. 
 
 At the same moment a noise was heard inside 
 of the partition as of something thrown down, that 
 made them all start and look round. 
 
 " It is the cat ! " said Mrs. Lynch, innocently. 
 
 " I think not," said McAboy. " Something has 
 fallen down ; that's all." 
 
 " I think so too," observed Melanie. " But you 
 don't answer my question, Mr. McAboy," still 
 holding up the glove. 
 
136 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 " Upon my word," replied he deliberately, " I 
 never noticed it before. It must have been dropped 
 by one of my sitters." 
 
 " I will bet you a thousand pair, Josephine, that 
 I know to whom it belongs," said Melanie, giving 
 it a playful or contemptuous toss, and catching it 
 again, "though I never set eyes on it till I found 
 it just now on the floor under the looking-glass. 
 I think I will keep it, and return it the owner 
 the next time I see her, as Mr. McAboy might 
 forget." 
 
 "I beg pardon," said Donald, overlooking a 
 portfolio of drawings in which Mrs. Lynch, uncon 
 scious of any thing special in the situation, was 
 deeply interested. "The better way would be to 
 hang it up here in a conspicuous place, that the 
 owner may find it the next time she comes." 
 
 " It may be lost, or stolen, or accidentally soiled 
 before that happens," replied Melanie. " It is now 
 quite fresh, and would be a serious loss to a young 
 lady with correct notions of economy ; for it spoils 
 the pair, of course, to lose one. I am positive I 
 know the owner. So I will keep it safely till I see 
 her, and then restore it to her." And she reso 
 lutely stowed away the glove in her muif. 
 
 " Perfectly exquisite those drawings are, Mela- 
 
TO WHICH ENTER TWO LADIES. 137 
 
 nie," said Mrs. Lynch. "Why don't you look at 
 them?" 
 
 " Miss Blake has seen them before," remarked 
 McAboy. 
 
 " When Xanthine and I sat to him," said Me- 
 lanie, "Mr. McAboy was so kind as to show us all 
 his portfolios." 
 
 "What a good time you must have had," 
 said Mrs. Lynch, quietly turning over the draw 
 ings. 
 
 McAboy stepped back and extended his hand 
 to Melanie "The glove," he whispered. "Give 
 it me. " " Why ? " she answered, haughtily. " Be 
 cause I insist upon it," he replied, in a firm, low 
 voice. "Take it then, sir/' said she, "from where 
 I found it." She threw it on the floor contemp 
 tuously. Donald picked it up and flung it carelessly 
 over the partition into the little apartment beyond ; 
 and again there was a sound within, but fainter, 
 as of a sudden movement. Virginia; indeed, was 
 all but expiring there in an agony of shame and 
 fear, and Melanie, who suffered scarcely less, did 
 not pity much this wicked rival, but glancing now 
 at the tell-tale picture fronting her on the easel, 
 now at the door of the partition, (as if wondering 
 whether that creature would dare let them go and 
 leave her there,) drew, as the minutes slipped 
 
138 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 away, inferences that painted themselves ex 
 pressively on her scornful lips and crimson-dyed 
 cheeks. 
 
 At length Mrs. Lynch said they must go. " I 
 am ready," said Melanie. And they went. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE MAIDEN'S REVENGE. 
 
 WITH slow, deliberate steps did Melanie Blake 
 quit McAboy's studio. Scrupulously she yielded 
 the precedence to her matron friend, and a linger 
 ing glance was that which she threw over her 
 shoulder ere she followed through the green baize 
 door that closed in the painting-room. 
 
 McAboy went before them to raise the latch 
 of the door giving exit (as we have mentioned) 
 from his apartments on the floor below, by the 
 means of a short private stair. So much he always 
 did for ladies ; but it was his custom when Melanie 
 and her sister came, to accompany them as far as 
 Madame Kuban's first landing-place. Habit, and 
 perhaps a desire to be sure of the departure of his 
 visitors, made him do the same now. 
 
 What thoughts passed swifter than lightning 
 through the mind of the excited and indignant 
 
140 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 maiden, the injured woman, the Christian girl, 
 (may I venture to add,) during that brief passage 
 of McAboy's ante-room more tasteful, elaborate 
 and fanciful in its arrangements than the studio 
 itself and while she stood for a moment pausing 
 on the highest step of the cosy private stair, with 
 one hand lightly grasping her winter dress of rich 
 silk, to prevent its sweeping the steps, and waiting 
 for Mrs. Lynch's trailing shawl and flounces to leave 
 the way clear ! Fortunate ceremonies of civiliza 
 tion ! Happy deliberateness and dignity in the 
 movements alike of the naked Indian savage in the 
 woods, and of the splendidly-attired children of 
 refined society, which leave them time for reflec 
 tion ! 
 
 " Forgive and you shall be forgiven." " Blessed 
 are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." 
 These sentences rung in her ears, or rather were 
 whispered in her heart. If yonder silly girl had 
 paid a clandestine visit to an artist's studio, (after 
 all a sort of public place ;) if, when surprised,^sh 
 had more imprudently, and with a consciousness 
 of wrong, concealed herself, (sad want of feminine 
 dignity !) yet was not she too (Melanie) concealing 
 in her heart a conscious affection unlicensed by, 
 unknown to, those who had the best right to her 
 confidence, because they had a lawful veto on her 
 
THE MAIDEN'S REVENGE. 141 
 
 inclinations ? Nay was there not a tacit, an im 
 plied, a conditional engagement equally unsanc- 
 tioned, equally secret ? Was this honoring father 
 and mother as her Bible and her catechism taught ? 
 Was she not guilty, perhaps, of greater sin than 
 Virginia Randolph, who had neither father nor 
 mother, (as she had heard,) and who wronged only 
 herself and her own fame ? Was she not, then, 
 justly punished by what this girl had done ? What 
 would become of Virginia if she were left there ? 
 In what a degrading position with Donald would 
 she stand ! How effectually compromised in the 
 eyes of those curious, giggling work-women and 
 shop-girls of Madame Ruban's ! 'Twas likely Vir 
 ginia Randolph's bonnet could pass their door un 
 observed, unrecognized ! Every soul in the estab 
 lishment knew it, and her, as they knew one 
 another. Did not she (Melanie) hear them laugh, 
 and see them nudge one another, when she and 
 Josey Lynch were made to wait at McAboy's door 
 on their first coming ? 
 
 If they two now went away together, without 
 Virginia, and she afterwards sallied forth alone, 
 what would they think ? what would they say ? 
 That scandal would speedily circulate in all their 
 own society, and how much it would injure Vir 
 ginia, if it did not absolutely ruin her in every- 
 
142 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 body's estimation, was incalculable by Melanie - 
 shocked herself, disdainful, pitying, and penitent. 
 She, too, had visited Donald's studio, never alone, 
 (oh, no !) never clandestinely, never without some 
 fair pretext, never without conscientiously mention 
 ing it at home. (Heaven forbid !) but oftener than 
 her parents would have approved certainly, had they 
 suspected the true state of the case, oftener per 
 haps (that was a piercing thought !) than maiden 
 pride should have permitted, considering that they 
 were not formally plighted only lovers and one 
 (alas !) by far too fond ! 
 
 Then, when a rush of feminine jealousy sud 
 denly overpowered all these kind, humble feelings, 
 and the dreadful thought came uppermost (sug 
 gested without doubt by the worst spirit that ever 
 gained a permitted access to her pure ear) that 
 since Virgin r a Randolph "had made her bed, she 
 might lie down on it " (as the saying is.) " Leave 
 her to the consequences of her folly, be it ruin, be 
 it disgrace, or whatever precipice of perdition her 
 unconsidered, witless course may next lead her to 
 leap down ! " " Leave her (since she had made 
 choice of that) to a man's dangerous sympathy, 
 treacherous aid, arid (by any woman) ill-trusted 
 generosity ! " Like lightning these thoughts passed 
 through Melanie's brain. No tongue could have 
 
THE MAIDEN'S REVENGE. 143 
 
 given them utterance in ten times so many minutes 
 as elapsed, yet her woman's wit did not miss the 
 clear apprehension of a single one of them. Nor 
 did not this fair Positive remember, while her foot 
 actually hovered over the first step in descending 
 McAboy's stair, how she and Xanth, last Christ 
 mas only, at the fair for the Maison du bon Pas 
 teur, besides their own beautiful work contributed, 
 and their services at a well-arranged table, gave a 
 valuable and costly present of their own to be 
 raffled for by their friends, which netted so hand 
 some a sum for the charity, and they had been so 
 pleased, and trusted that by the prayers of the 
 bonnes soeurs and their penitents, they should be 
 preserved from the least defilement of those 
 thoughts which are like the mysterious spots of 
 Magellan, that stain the purity of the noon-day sky 
 in the southern hemisphere; and here was she, 
 effacing all the merit of her charity, by a great 
 want of it, to a soul and a fame in danger of a 
 poor Negative, too, (as the child said to her simple 
 self,) without the light of faith or aid of discipline, 
 who knew not the restraint of confession, nor the 
 perennial supply of extraordinary graces to remedy 
 past falls and natural frailty, nor the sweet inter 
 cessions of the Mother of purity. 
 
 " Good God ! " exclaimed Melanie Blake, " has 
 sinful passion brought me to this ! " 
 
144 BLONDE AND BKUNETTE. 
 
 Mrs. Lynch's sweeping drapery brushed the 
 stair and the lobby-carpet, and the door closed sud 
 denly after it with a soft slam, from the hook slip 
 ping by which McAboy was wont to fasten it back, 
 but Melanie was gone from the top of the stair 
 was again in the painting-room. 
 
 Virginia Randolph was in the studio, and the 
 door of the inner room where she had been skulk 
 ing, stood open. She was pale as death, and her 
 brown hair floated wildly on her 1 * shoulders, having 
 never been put up since her sitting was interrupted. 
 She nearly fell to the floor when she saw Melanie. 
 
 " Oh ! you've come back to make sure, Melanie 
 Blake ! " said she, deiyingly, but in a hollow voice. 
 " I am innocent, though innocent as yourself, 
 proud girl ! " added she, rapidly and vehemently. 
 
 "Put on your bonnet, then, quick, and follow 
 me. Innocent, I hope and believe you are, but 
 your reputation, Virginia Randolph, hangs by a 
 thread ! " Melanie said, with maidenly sternness. 
 
 " My hair is ah 1 down," said Virginia, with help 
 less agitation. 
 
 " Twist it up anyhow, 1 " returned Melanie, in al 
 most a fierce voice, though low. "It must not be 
 seen so by Josey Lynch, or the worst point of all 
 will be known your hiding there." And Melanie, 
 with her own hands, twisted her rival's tresses into 
 a knot. 
 
THE MAIDEN'S REVENGE. 145 
 
 " Oh ! you hurt me ! Oh, dear ! my front hair 
 won't be fit to be seen ! " 
 
 " It is well enough. Only keep your hat on till 
 you are in your own room that's all. Now come 
 along. Don't show any agitation," said Melanie, 
 softening her tone, and dragging along her still 
 frightened and reluctant companion. 
 
 "What will Mrs. Lynch say?" 
 
 " No matter," whispered Melanie, as they went 
 down the stair. " It is better to be in her hands 
 than in those of Madame Ruban's gossipping 
 girls." 
 
 Melanie opened the lobby door, just as McAboy, 
 who was shut out, was going to pull the bell. 
 
 " Please to fasten it back," said he, without 
 showing any emotion at the sight of Miss Ran 
 dolph. 
 
 Melanie did so, composedly, and the two young 
 ladies passed on without more words on either side. 
 Several of Madame Ruban's work-room people 
 were looking with all their might. Aware that the 
 celebrated belle, Miss Randolph, had been some 
 hours up stairs, a thousand questions touching the 
 solution of that fact had been raised and discussed 
 among them. For some time, indeed, it had been 
 believed by most that her sister, or some other 
 friend would drop in by appointment before the sit- 
 7 
 

 146 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 ting was ended. This party gained in strength by 
 the arrival of the other two ladies, and lost again 
 terribly by their being obliged to ring twice for ad 
 mittance. Miss Randolph's stock was held at a 
 mere nominal value while Mrs. Lynch and Miss 
 Blake prolonged their visit. When tokens of their 
 approaching departure were perceived, the market 
 rallied a little ; the bulls admirers of Virginia or 
 grateful to McAboy waxed confident, but one 
 frightful bear an exceedingly proper young lady 
 of a certain age, with a particularly ugly expres 
 sion about the mouth declared that if Miss R. 
 didn't come down with the others, she would ask 
 the young ladies themselves whether they had seen 
 her : so natural did Miss Randolph's actual behav 
 iour seem to some of her inferiors in station, and 
 riot those with whom she would have been best 
 pleased to be associated. 
 
 But the young ladies now swept by together in 
 silent dignity. McAboy followed just to the land 
 ing of the next flight his accustomed stopping 
 place with the Misses Blake and said, " Good 
 morning, young ladies." " Good-bye," said Mela- 
 nie, simply, and looking up earnestly at him for a 
 moment. 
 
 " The next time I sit," said Virginia, tremulously, 
 but trying hard to laugh, " I hope Bella will be 
 
THE MAIDEN'S REVENGE. 147 
 
 able to come, though you know she is so impatient 
 that it is dreadfully tiresome." 
 
 " You have been very patient to-day," answer 
 ed he, bowing a last bow over the bannisters as 
 Melanie disappeared, and Virginia Randolph just 
 nodded her head in answer. 
 
 At the entrance of the show-room on the next 
 floor a couple of saucy sales-women, in neat French 
 made dresses and with waspish waists, were watch 
 ing for their coming down, and Melanie's heart 
 sickened within her to think of the idle propos 
 the nest of venomous scandals which her own gen 
 erosity had crushed in the egg. 
 
 " I never meant to do any thing wrong, I pro 
 test, Melanie," whispered Miss Randolph. " I will 
 own the candid truth. All that I thought of was 
 to get one sitting when you wouldn't be there. 
 You know you always contrive to be present when 
 I sit. Belle asks Xanthine to go in her stead, and 
 then you come, you know, with Xanth." 
 
 " Why did you hide ? " asked Melanie, regard 
 ing her curiously yet coldly. 
 
 " Because, after I began to sit, and was all 
 alone with Mr. McAboy, and he was so I don't 
 know what so contemptuously polite just like 
 you and I saw that he did not care a straw except 
 for the picture, then I felt how wrong it was, and 
 
148 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 that he despised me, and I would have sunk in the 
 earth if I could." 
 
 " What on earth are you waiting for, Melanie ? " 
 cried Mrs. Lynch from the carriage. 
 
 " Get in with us, Yirginie, and we will set you 
 down," said Melanie, with genuine kindness. Miss 
 Randolph, too, liked to be called Virginie. 
 
 If Melanie had told fifty consistent lies she 
 could not have deceived Mrs. Lynch so perfectly 
 as by this simple act, look and tone of a real 
 friend. 
 
 " Paying more visits to Madame Ruban ? " she 
 said, as Miss Randolph yielded, very willingly, to 
 Melanie's invitation. " Oh, what extravagance ! 
 What is the Easter hat to be, Virginie f " mimick 
 ing Melanie's manner, and laughing mockingly. 
 
 " I have not chosen one yet," answered Miss 
 Randolph, blushing. 
 
 " She would have ruined herself but for me," 
 said Melanie, gayly, "but I carried her off by main 
 force." 
 
 " Don't tell ! " exclaimed Miss Randolph, with 
 a look of violent apprehension. 
 
 " Not I ! " said Melanie. 
 
 " Your hair bears witness that you have been 
 trying on bonnets," observed Mrs. Lynch. 
 
 " I suppose it is all in a blowze," said Virginia, 
 
THE 
 
 MAIDEN'S REVENGE. 149 
 
 very naturally. She had breeding, though not 
 sense. 
 
 " You have found an owner for the glove, Me- 
 lanie," said Mrs. Lynch, with a careless smile, see 
 ing Miss Randolph at that instant drawing it on 
 with great assiduity. " Why, Virginie ! you must 
 have sat, then, this very morning, to Mr. McAboy. 
 Have you been at Madame Ruban's ever since, 
 trying on those bonnets ? " 
 
 " The time passes so quick when one is engaged 
 as you have been, tell her, Virginia," said Melanie, 
 rather cruelly. 
 
 " Like it did when we (or rather I, Melanie,) 
 were looking over McAboy's portfolio. Do you 
 know how long we were in that studio, child ? An 
 hour and a half, as I am a sinner. It did not seem 
 to me that we had been there above three-quarters 
 did it to you ? " 
 
 " It seemed an eternity to me," thought Vir 
 ginia, saying it to Miss Blake with her uplifted 
 eyes. 
 
 " A word in your ear, Virginie : excuse me, 
 Josey," said Melanie, when the carriage stopped 
 before Mrs. Mortimer's, and Miss Randolph got 
 out. Melanie put her face close inside the latter's 
 bonnet and whispered " Don't tell any lies, Vir 
 ginia they will only get you into a scrape but 
 
150 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 keep your own counsel and and don't, for 
 Heaven's sake, go there again as you did this 
 morning." 
 
 " Oh, you may rely on that I give you my 
 word and honor, Melanie," said Virginia, and with 
 a sudden movement kissed the other young lady 
 (their faces being so near) several times. 
 
 " That is very edifying," observed Mrs. Lynch. 
 " What mysterious sympathy have you found with 
 Virginia Randolph, Mel ? Do you know I strongly 
 suspect that she had no company this morning but 
 her own wise self in McAboy's studio, when she 
 sat for that surprising portrait ? You blush at the 
 idea, Mel, but I can remember when I was wild 
 enough to have done such a thing if I hadn't had 
 the fear of being obliged to confess it before my 
 eyes. Telling forty fibs (that did nobody any 
 harm,) wouldn't get you such a lecture you know/' 
 
 " My mother has always taught me not to fib," 
 said Melanie. 
 
 " Your mother was bred a Negative," replied 
 Mrs. Lynch, laughing. " I always insist you owe 
 half your virtues to that, Mel. A poor Positive 
 born, like me, goes on fibbing and confessing to 
 the end of her days, and is always in the very dust 
 of humiliation, while you are riding the high 
 horses of truth and just self-complacency. Well, I 
 
THE MAIDEN'S REVENGE. 151 
 
 must say, Melanie, I never saw anybody look so 
 lovely as you have done, ever since you came out 
 of Madame Ruban's doorway, to this moment. 
 How anybody can compare such a girl as Virginia 
 Randolph to you ! I never saw her look so well 
 as she did just now, though her hair was all in a 
 blowze ; and then it seemed only the reflection of 
 your spirit and SAveetness. I allow she has a tine 
 showy figure and regular features ; but no expres 
 sion. Her taste in hats is execrable. The one she 
 wears now is splendid to be sure, but wholly un- 
 suited to her age and position. It would become 
 me or Mrs. Leary on some dress occasion, but not 
 her. You smile, but maidenly simplicity of dress 
 is a great sign of the same trait in the character. 
 You are a hundred times handsomer than she is, 
 dear. And your slim, chaste figure (forgive me, 
 darling it's the only word) is a thousand times 
 more dearly winning than her voluptuous embon 
 point. Any man of real purity and refinement 
 would feel and say so. And your truth ! Talk of 
 fibbing you could not deceive me, Mel, if you 
 tried. That candid face would peach with its 
 honest blushes." 
 
 " You praise me so much more than I deserve 
 that I am ashamed to put in a disclaimer," said 
 Melanie, looking down with an expression half 
 demure, half contrite. 
 
152 BLONDE AND BKUNETTE. 
 
 When the carriage turned for the second time 
 that morning out of Crayon Place into the Blooming 
 Way, (after setting Virginia Randolph down, yon 
 know,) Miss Melanie Blake could not help a glance 
 at the corner store. Donald stood on the walk, in 
 the gray cool shadow of the winter afternoon al 
 ready declining ; a plaid wrapped in the true high 
 land fashion over his breast and shoulders. He 
 was evidently going to his usual resort (since the 
 improvement in his fortunes) the Crayon House 
 just below a magnificent pile of Italian architec 
 ture in white marble to take his dinner at the 
 ladies' ordinary. He saw the carriage and raised 
 his hat. What a picture he was of the calm, con 
 summate, superior man of genius, in the first enjoy 
 ment of a hardly-earned success ! There was no 
 artistic affectation in his costume, and yet he was 
 picturesque. Nobody would take him for a mer 
 chant or a lawyer. Leisurely he walked down the 
 square, yet keenly observant. A beggar and her 
 child on the step of the hotel arrested his atten 
 tion : she was picturesque in her rags. He spoke 
 to her, pointed to his rooms, and gave her a shilling. 
 " Ever on the watch," thought Melanie, " for 
 knowledge or materials ! Ever kind to the poor ! 
 but as if it were a matter of business. No osten 
 tation ; no sham. Is he not, then, ' a man of real 
 
THE MAIDEN'S REVENGE. 153 
 
 purity and refinement ' after all ? Oh, I cannot 
 think so, for else he would not love me, who have 
 none of that voluptuous beauty, as Josey Lynch 
 says, which he thinks is the only kind ' capable of 
 the finest expression ; ' as he said Virginia Ran 
 dolph's features were. But what an unscrupulous 
 devotion to art, to peril a silly girl's reputation and 
 let her stain her conscience, and turn both to profit 
 for the sake of getting a beautiful drawing or 
 making a successful picture ! Such dreadful self 
 ishness ! " 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 A WALK NOT BY MOONLIGHT. 
 
 To pursue the metaphor which we have used 
 before, the stream of Melanie's love, as well as her 
 sister's, in its approach toward the place of the fall, 
 had now arrived at a rapid, where it flowed be 
 tween steep banks, in a narrow channel much 
 obstructed with rocks, dangerous to the frail bark 
 that danced on its bosom in the shape of an earthly 
 hope. 
 
 One may indeed wonder where, all this time, 
 were the eyes of their mother, that failed to mark 
 a thousand circumstances which should have be 
 trayed the state of both her daughters' affections. 
 It would have been surprising anywhere but in 
 Gotham, during the season of gayety. Of all the 
 rights secured to the inhabitants of that city by 
 the constitution and laws, none was better ascer 
 tained or more indefeasible than the light of flirta- 
 
A WALK NOT BY MOONLIGHT. 155 
 
 tion prescriptively enjoyed by the young of both 
 sexes in the intercourse of society. Xanthe, ever 
 since she was allowed to mix in society, and even 
 before that, had used it liberally, and her mother 
 observed with pleasure that she had never been so 
 reserved as this winter. Gay, animated, friendly 
 she was with everybody, but particular with none, 
 unless a certain shyness toward Mr. Tremaine on 
 several occasions, contrasting with a modest and 
 silent delight in his graceful attentions at other 
 times, was being " particular." This was a sort of 
 flirtation a manner of being particular with one 
 person which this good mother approved, sup 
 posing that the person were all he should be ; and 
 Mrs. Blake, it must be admitted, was herself rather 
 partial to Mr. Thomas Tremaine. He was very 
 amiable, she said. So he was. She liked him bet 
 ter than Mr. McAboy, whose name was distasteful 
 to her from old associations, and who seemed to 
 her female, motherly eye, a selfish person, though 
 talented. She could weave a sort of romance of 
 hope and kind feeling about Tremaine ; she felt 
 only fear and some aversion towards his cousin. 
 The former's want of religion (a want which might 
 be supplied) was the only objection she had to 
 him ; the ambitious, determined, wilful character 
 of the latter was not atoned for in her estimate by 
 
156 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 his genius, and she would scarcely have been recon 
 ciled to it had he been of the " true faith." Mrs. 
 Blake did in fact express to Melanie her opinion 
 of Donald quite plainly arid at large. 
 
 " If one of my daughters," said she, " (which 
 Heaven forbid,) were going to marry a Negative, 
 he is the last person I would wish her to choose." 
 
 But at that time Melanie had formed no sort 
 of engagement, not even of a conditional kind, and 
 she only blushed at her mother's remarks, combat 
 ing them faintly, and admitting in part their justice. 
 She thought Mr. McAboy was too wilful, and she 
 would dread trusting him with her happiness; 
 which was the exact truth, and therefore deceived 
 her mother. Mel was so prudent, Mrs. Blake com 
 placently observed, she would look out for herself, 
 she would weigh people in pretty even scales. But 
 Mel had a great deal more of sustained enthusiasm 
 than her mother dreamed of. Celtic ardor and 
 Yengeese * steadiness met in her firm, quick-feel 
 ing nature. Neither did her father comprehend 
 
 * We read in certain old histories that the Indians of the 
 North cailed the English colonists "Yengeese" or " Yengees" 
 (the s soft,) which modern use has corrupted into Yankees. 
 An etymological friend suggests that the author of this tale 
 had this derivation in mind, and by " Yengeese" intends the 
 universal Yankee nation. Of the probability of this we leave 
 our readers to judge. [ED. 
 
A WALK NOT BY MOONLIGHT. 157 
 
 her strength of purpose, nor her mother her passion 
 ate susceptibility : a compound of them both, she 
 was a mystery to each, and the more because each 
 thought they understood her perfectly. 
 
 Patrick Blake, Esquire, did not trouble himself 
 much about the state of his daughters' hearts that 
 busy winter. In January he was attending to his 
 balances, and never had they been more favorable. 
 As the spring opened, he was engaged in extending 
 his business more than it had ever been extended 
 before. The only paternal anxiety that interfered 
 with these absorbing interests, was that which he 
 felt on account of his younger son Harry, who was 
 too intimate with certain young bloods of Gotham, 
 and neglected his duties in the counting-room. 
 Mr. Blake particularly reprobated his close con 
 nection with that idle, foppish Tremaine, of whom, 
 from certain pecuniary transactions between him 
 and Harry, Mr. Blake had a very low opinion ; 
 Tom having borrowed of Harry so considerable a 
 sum as $100, which he somehow neglected to pay 
 at the time he promised when he borrowed it. So 
 far from paying, indeed, Tom had let Harry foot 
 the entire bill of a sleighing excursion they made 
 together, and had never talked of refunding. Hal 
 was obliged to mention these little circumstances 
 in applying for more funds, indeed mentioned them 
 
158 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 in pure ingenuousness, and Mr. Blake was very lib 
 eral to his son, as he always was, but he formed 
 and expressed an opinion f the friend the reverse 
 of favorable. 
 
 On the other hand Mr. Patrick Blake thought 
 highly of Mr. Donald McAboy. When Donald fit 
 ted up his rooms in the summer with so much 
 taste and yet so much economy, he incurred a debt, 
 which w T hen the bills were presented he was able 
 to discharge only in part, and he accordingly cov 
 ered the principal account by giving his note at 
 three months. At the period of maturity he was 
 still short of funds to meet it, and was consequently 
 obliged to seek out the holder, who chanced to be 
 Mr. Blake, to get it renewed. McAboy was ex 
 tremely annoyed that the note should have fallen 
 into Mr. Blake's hands, and that he should not be 
 able to pay it, but he called on that gentle 
 man, manfully stated his difficulty, and requested 
 time. 
 
 " Have you any other notes out, Mr. McAboy ? " 
 asked Mr. Blake. " I t%ke the liberty of inquiring, 
 because-fBu see, if I don't let this note be protested 
 (in case you can't pay it) the endorser will not be 
 held." 
 
 " I have no other note out," answered McAboy, 
 after a moment's hesitation and reddening at this 
 
A WALK NOT BY MOONLIGHT. 159 
 
 unusual catechising ; " but I have other debts, sir. 
 I owe my tailor at this moment, and when rent-day 
 comes I shall owe my landlord ; unless I am so for 
 tunate as to sell some pictures or paint some por 
 traits before then." 
 
 " Oh, very well," said Mr. Blake, smiling slight 
 ly. " I discounted this note to oblige the endorser, 
 who is my tenant. How much have you got on it ? 
 One third, eh? Well, count it out, and fill up 
 this blank note for the balance at sixty days. I 
 will send round to the bank, for the other note 
 meanwhile. ' 
 
 McAboy was determined not to ask for a re 
 newal of the second note, so he went to his tailor, 
 who had sent in his bill, and represented to him 
 that it would be for his interest to take a note at 
 four months rather than lose his future custom ; he 
 made his landlord take a three months' note for 
 his quarter's rent, and having thus staved off these 
 claims, he was able, by strict economy in his per 
 sonal expenses, living in his studio on the simplest 
 fare and dining at a laborers' eating-house under 
 one of the markets, to take up the note to Mr. 
 Blake, when it fell due, out of the proceeds of 
 some landscapes which he sacrificed at an auction. 
 
 When the portrait of the sisters was finished, 
 Mr. Blake asked McAboy for his bill. Donald 
 
160 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 made answer that he could not receive anything 
 for the picture, as he had. requested the young 
 ladies to sit, for the sake of the opening it would 
 give him to get other business, and that he wished 
 Mr. B. would accept it as some acknowledgment 
 of his kindness about the note. 
 
 " Whew ! " said Patrick Blake, " you paid the 
 note, Mr. McAboy. As you please, sir, however- 
 I know nothing about pictures myself, but Mrs. 
 Blake and the girls are wonderfully delighted with 
 this portrait, and I shall be pleased to pay whatever 
 you say it is worth." 
 
 Upon reflection, McAboy wrote out a bill for 
 the portrait, and Mr. Blake gave him a cheque on 
 the spot. The amount, agreeably to Donald's 
 prices as he had determined to fix them when he 
 saw how well the portrait took, w r as exactly equal 
 to the amount of the note which he had paid. 
 Being thus in funds, he went immediately to his 
 tailor and landlord, and took up the notes he had 
 given them ; and it so happened that his doing so, 
 became known to Mr. Blake, who laughed and said 
 that McAboy was destined to get on. Only a few 
 weeks after, Donald opened a bank account, and 
 by some natural method, " as luck would have it," 
 (Tremaine subsequently observed,) Mr. Blake got 
 wind of this too. The mode indeed was very sim- 
 
A WALK NOT BY MOONLIGHT. 161 
 
 pie; for Tremaine being ashamed to owe Harry 
 Blake any longer, borrowed of McAboy, who 
 drew him a cheque for the amount, which Tremaine 
 gave Harry, and the latter, delighted that his 
 friend had poneyed up so honorably, showed it to 
 his father with Tremaine's name on the back. All 
 these little matters contribute to decide men's fates. 
 But by this time Donald's prosperity w r as a fixed 
 fact. 
 
 Mr. Blake heard of it from various quarters, 
 chiefly through the conversation of his own family. 
 McAboy's patrons and sitters were frequently men 
 tioned in one way or another Mr. De Grotius, 
 Mr. Seijas, the Mortimers, the Broadhands, the 
 Deuils, the Gudenows all people that Mr. Blake 
 knew something about. Young McAboy had ob 
 tained a " good business connection," it was evi 
 dent ; it needed no longer a prophet to foretell 
 that he would get on. He had got on. 
 
 I am digressing as usual, but really my story, 
 though simple, has so many threads that it requires 
 some dexterity not to let any of them slip. I left 
 Melanie Blake in the carriage of her friend Mrs. 
 Lynch, going home with that lady to dine and 
 spend the evening, and reasoning with herself by 
 the way on the subject of Donald McAboy's self 
 ishness as displayed in his behaviour towards Miss 
 
162 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 Virginia Randolph. She remembered how firm 
 and resolute he had been about the glove, forcing 
 her (morally) to give it up ; then how he had tossed 
 it over the partition into his sleeping-room, almost 
 confessing Miss Randolph to be secreted there ; and 
 she was inclined at first to blame him severely for 
 this part of his conduct ; but on the whole she 
 concluded that it had been only honorable at the 
 same time towards Virginia and herself. First, he 
 could not suffer her to carry off Miss Randolph's 
 glove, to distress her, to detect her, to be a proof 
 against her : that was plain. Next, as he read her 
 suspicions, it was his business to disarm them by 
 frankness, in which she felt that he had succeeded. 
 Her heart acquitted him of infidelity to herself, 
 but not of cruelty to the simple-minded say, 
 weak-minded Virginia. True, she could not tell 
 how strong the temptation might be to an artist, 
 to study one so beautiful, under the excitement of 
 a terrible feminine fear. She had heard of paint 
 ers committing murder in order to watch and seize 
 the expression of the dying in their agony. No 
 doubt the passion for this kind of knowledge was 
 imperious, but would she like to commit her hap 
 piness to the hands of one who had yielded himself 
 to it ? Then she reflected how all men and all 
 women have their passion, and should one judge 
 
A WALK NOT BY MOONLIGHT. * 163 
 
 another hardly ? But Donald must be made sensi 
 ble of the wrong he had done, he must repent of 
 it, and promise never to do so again, or she would 
 give him up. 
 
 These thoughts made her so dreamy at dinner, 
 that Washington Lynch rallied his fair guest, and 
 vowed she was in love, wondering who the happy 
 man could be that made Miss Melanie Blake so 
 distraite and absent. In the dusky, fire-lighted 
 drawing-room, Melanie sat on a low ottoman, 
 straight as she ever sat, (Melanie never lounged or 
 leaned,) thinking with all her might, while Mrs. 
 Lynch dozed on a sofa close by, where that lady 
 had lain down with the professed intention of chat 
 ting a great deal. The point was definitely pre 
 sented to Melanie's mind that she might be com 
 pelled to give up McAboy. Oh, in that case what 
 a blank was life ! She had often thought that 
 the lonely fate would be hers, but never before had 
 it looked her so drearily in the face, as now that 
 for several months she had felt a deep and fasci 
 nated interest in another, and had indulged the 
 hope that her earthly existence might be woven 
 together with his, that he might in his difficult but 
 heroic course, be cheered by her constant love, and 
 she participate by sympathy and the nearest human 
 tie, in his fame. To be other than the wife of an 
 
164 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 artist, or of any artist but Donald, was out of the 
 sphere of her possible fancies now, touching wed 
 ded happiness. To be married to a merchant, 
 though ever so rich ; to a lawyer, though ever so 
 eminent ; to a literary man, if he were as gifted as 
 Scott, and as successful in winning gold with the 
 pen ; did not seem to her devoted and faithful heart 
 things that she could possibly contemplate with 
 any satisfaction, even if she were heart-free again. 
 No, only the lovely works of the pencil, interested 
 her deeply and nearly ; only the wife of an artist 
 she wished to be. To think, therefore, that Don 
 ald was unworthy of that devotion, was to lose the 
 sun out of her world. Melanie turned the fact, or 
 the idea, over and over in her mind, and the more 
 calm and still she was, the more keenly the anguish 
 pierced and cut, dividing the heart's tenderest and 
 most sensitive strings. 
 
 " I cannot give him up," cried she, to herself, 
 " let him be what he may, let him do what he will. 
 Woman was made to suffer, and I will suffer. And 
 yet if he will not see, if he cannot feel, that it is 
 fearfully wicked to despise the soul of any body, 
 and to tempt it and to corrupt it, he and I cannot 
 breathe together " 
 
 Tea was brought in. Mr. Lynch had finished 
 his cigar, and came in too a richly bearded gen- 
 
A WALK NOT BY MOONLIGHT. 165 
 
 tleman, with long auburn hair that flowed in a 
 thousand curls on his broad shoulders. His superb 
 wife awoke, and they grew lively over their tea. 
 Melanie exerted herself to be cheerful, wherein a 
 conscience more at ease than her's had lately been, 
 greatly assisted her. Mr. Lynch had challenged 
 her to backgammon, when the door-bell resounded, 
 and presently the servant ushered in Mr. Donald 
 McAboy. Washington Lynch glanced roguishly 
 at Melanie and welcomed the visitor heartily, say 
 ing, " Now our party is made up. Will you take 
 a hnnd at whist, McAboy?" " Fie, Washington, 
 you forget it is Lent," said his wife. " Is it against 
 the rules of the Church to play cards in Lent ? " 
 asked McAboy. "No," said Washington, "but as 
 I do nothing else to observe it, (I can't fast,) I ab 
 stain from whist. I really forgot that ; and back 
 gammon too is excluded by my resolution. What 
 shall we do, McAboy ? Miss Melanie, propose 
 something." " I propose to go home and say my 
 prayers," said Melanie. " You have reminded me 
 of the duty." 
 
 This was treated as nonsense at first, but Miss 
 Blake Avas as resolute as young ladies generally are 
 in what they set their hearts on. " Are you in 
 earnest ? " cried Mrs. Lynch, when Melanie insisted 
 on going up stairs for her bonnet. " Positively," 
 
ICO BLONDE AXD BRUNETTE. 
 
 said Melanie. " But what reason do you give ? 
 Does your head ache? Are you sick of our com 
 pany ? Is Mr. McAboy disagreeable to you ? If 
 he is, we'll soon send him about his business." 
 "Oh ! " cried Melanie, " let me go this time with 
 out any reasons, please. I want to go, but my 
 head doesn't ache, and I am not sick of your com 
 pany, nor is Mr. McAboy disagreeable to me in 
 the least, I assure you." " How on earth do you 
 expect to get home ? " asked Mr. Lynch. " It is 
 a clear, moonlight night," said Melanie. " I beg 
 your pardon, the moon is down already. Isn't it 
 more than a fortnight to Easter ? How can there 
 be moonlight ? " " Well, it is clear and dry, and 
 the streets are lighted with lamps," said Melanie. 
 " I suppose that you or Mr. McAboy will have the 
 kindness to walk as far as Santaklaus square with 
 me, for which my papa will reward you with a 
 glass of wine." 
 
 In short there was an opportunity to secure a 
 tete a Me walk, and Melanie profited by it, as any 
 other young lady in her position would. If she 
 had waited till nine or ten o'clock, one of her 
 brothers would doubtless have dropped in to play 
 her escort, or Mr. Lynch would have ordered his 
 carriage again to the door the Lynches had been 
 abroad and afiected old world manners. " But if 
 
A WALK NOT BY MOONLIGHT. 167 
 
 you really prefer a walk on this bright moonlight 
 night, (a fortnight before Holy Thursday !) " ob 
 served Washington, sarcastically, "and will go 
 now in such an unguestlike manner, why McAboy, 
 I see, stands ready, hat in hand, to assert his claim 
 as a bachelor to attend you." 
 
 " Of course," said McAboy, smoothing the nap 
 of his hat very indifferently. 
 
 By the way it was the first time she and Don 
 ald had ever walked home together in the evening 
 from anywhere. " When such privileges," thought 
 Melanie, tying on her bonnet, " are open to any girl 
 who chooses to avail herself of them, how can any 
 body wish to step beyond the bounds of our honest 
 liberty ? I shall take Donald's arm, shan't I ? I 
 shall say to him what I like, and nobody will be 
 the wiser will they ? And all the world may 
 know of our tete a tete mayn't they ? What do 
 I want more ? '' 
 
 As soon as they were in the street, McAboy 
 said, without waiting for the trembling Melanie to 
 begin as she fully intended, 
 
 " Melanie, you are an angel, and I am a cold, 
 selfish, wicked man. I am unworthy of you, noble, 
 generous girl ! I know that too. But forgive me, 
 I pray. Overlook my unworthiness. It is your 
 sweet, your holy influence that is to teach rne bet- 
 
168 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 ter things." (The men are always so penitent 
 when they've something to gain.) 
 
 What could Melanie now say ? So frankly t'o 
 confers his fault that proud Donald ! Without 
 being asked without being scolded ! Surely he 
 was full of real generosity ! What did she do. 
 She wept. He saw it by the bright gas-light (for 
 it was clearly impossible to get up a moon at that 
 point of Lent) from the shops in the Blooming 
 Way. 
 
 " Dear Donald, if you knew how unhappy I 
 have felt to think you could possibly act in so cruel 
 and (forgive me) so unprincipled a manner." 
 
 " Say on, Melanie. I deserve it all/' 
 
 They reached Santaklaus square, but I'm bound 
 to admit that owing to the interesting nature of 
 their conversation, they missed the most direct 
 route, and, as if they had meant to avoid the short 
 cuts, went round by secluded Chit-chat Street, in 
 stead of vulgar Slip-slop Avenue, so bright with 
 second-rate, cheap stores ; and thus entering the 
 corner farthest from Mr. Blake's house, walked, 
 without any particular hurry that I could discover, 
 nearly once round the Central Park on their way to 
 it. Yet Santaklaus square was not bright with 
 shops, but gloomy with tall private mansions, with a 
 street lamp here and there to make the darkness visi- 
 
A WALK NOT BY MOONLIGHT. 169 
 
 ble, and the great leafless trees of the park (cour 
 teously so termed) were not so charming a prospect 
 that one would care to make the entire circuit there 
 of to see them to better advantage by that imper 
 fect light. At last, however, they did arrive (if 
 they had minded what they were about, they might 
 have done so much sooner) at the door : they mount 
 ed the steps ; McAboy rung the bell, and notwith 
 standing he was going in with her, thought it ne 
 cessary to take a ceremonious leave of the lady, who 
 seemed to be pleased with that mark of his respect. 
 " He kissed me on the steps to-night, dear moth 
 er," Melanie said, tears flowing fast from her eyes 
 and falling in the maternal lap, "and I did not ob 
 ject. I may never become his wife I never will 
 unless you and pa consent/ but no other man shall 
 ever do the like, as none ever did before, except 
 pa and my brothers." 
 
 Auribus attonitis percepit mater amorem. 
 
 Which means that the gentle mother was con 
 founded. So was I, who had (but that is no mat 
 ter) other views for the eldest Miss Blake. The 
 sage, the discreet, the prudent Melanie ! She has 
 given her heart away, she has pledged herself for 
 life, and we never suspected any thing ! And to 
 whom ? To Mr. Donald McAboy a " Pagan " ar 
 tist and a negative ! 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 IN WHICH XANTHINE'S AFFAIRS ARE RESUMED. 
 
 WE must not forget poor Xantlrine altogether. 
 Her affairs too at this time were drawing to a cri 
 sis. A chief reason why Mr. Thomas Tremaine 
 was so anxious to return the money he had (to do 
 him justice) reluctantly borrowed of Harry Blake, 
 so that as we have seen he not only got McAboy 
 to lend him the amount, but actually and faithfully 
 paid it over to Harry, (much as he wanted it for 
 other purposes and hard as it was to part with 
 money,) was that he had made up his mind to pro 
 pose to the youngest Miss Blake. During that 
 sensible girl Miss Randolph's passing bewilderment 
 for him, Tremaine had wavered a little in his fidel 
 ity to Xanthine. Well, Miss R. hadn't half the 
 fortune that rumor assigned as the future portion 
 of Mr. P. Blake's daughters ; but then she had it 
 in possession, and a bird in the hand is notoriously 
 
XANTHINE'S AFFAIRS ABE RESUMED. 171 
 
 worth two in the bush. Her beauty, her style, her 
 connexions, were superior to those of the Misses 
 Blake. Or if they were not superior, they were 
 so considered, which amounts to the same thing. 
 Miss R. was one of the F. F.'s, or " first families " 
 of Dominia, as I have before mentioned ; her father 
 (he was killed in a duel) was a member of the Co 
 lumbian Senate and a planter of tobacco, as well 
 as a great breeder of black cattle, of the species 
 called chattels personal, for the market of Grande 
 Levee, the Southern sugar State a most respect 
 able pursuit, far more so than selling Yengeese ker 
 seymeres and Celtic linens in Gotham like Mr. 
 Patrick Blake. Tom wavered, J say, and well he 
 might. Indeed, if he were to marry Xanthine, 
 unless her father would come down with the dust 
 at once settle something on her it was not clear 
 to Tom's mind how he should support her till such 
 time as it should please the old gentleman to " kick 
 the bucket," as he was accustomed to express it. 
 Miss R. had ready money a thing for which Tom's 
 exchequer gaped hungrily and constantly. But 
 then, again, was it enough ? Was it, in fact, as 
 much as he had a RIGHT to expect ? 
 
 Tom had a turn for calculation, which he in 
 herited (the only thing he did inherit) from the 
 McAboys. Miss Randolph was said to be worth 
 
172 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 fifty thousand piastres cPEspagne, (I hate to use 
 any unpoetical word in discussing these delicate 
 affairs,) from which Tom coolly deducted ten thou 
 sand for exaggeration. The remainder, supposing 
 it invested at the usual rate of interest in Gotham, 
 would yield an income of say three thousand a 
 year. "I ought to have more than that," said 
 Tom. It would have been little, in truth, to live 
 on in Gotham and keep up any sort of style. They 
 couldn't keep a carriage ; they couldn't entertain ; 
 not on three thousand piastres per annum, they 
 couldn't. "And if V. should have a family, which 
 is sure to be the case when you don't want 'em," 
 Tom said, " that state of things would soon de 
 generate into poverty. We should have to go 
 into the country and raise our own garden-vege 
 tables. I'm not mercenary," thought he. " Haven't 
 I let slip two or three real rich girls that I might 
 have had as easy as winking, because they were 
 plain or vulgar or something of that sort ? I con 
 sider beauty and lady-like manners essential. Mrs. 
 Thomas Tremaine must be a person that I can like, 
 and need not be ashamed of. Ah, now, if that 
 dear little Xanthe only had her eighty thousand 
 (it won't be more) standing in her name in good 
 City of Gotham stocks, I wouldn't hesitate a mo 
 ment. With an elegant quiet income such as that, 
 
XANTHINE'S AFFAIRS ARE RESUMED. 173 
 
 and such a charming, fresh, affectionate creature 
 to share it, I would not only be content but happy. 
 What a good girl she is," mused Tom, " how 
 modest and pure-minded, with all her budding life 
 and warm feelings ! I should be delighted now to 
 see her fondling a baby in a lace robe, and I would 
 love her and her children dearly." 
 
 That was the exact state of the case. Tremaine 
 really loved Xanthine Blake, and it was only the 
 consciousness of his pecuniary necessities which re 
 strained him from speaking out. Could he have 
 proposed to Mr. Blake to pay something down 
 with his daughter, he would have done so, but it 
 was not possible to put it in that shape. His course 
 of conduct in hanging round Xanthe, and winning 
 her affections, when this was the case, was unmanly, 
 I allow. It was infamous, some may think. He 
 was a despicable fortune-hunter, some may say. 
 True, but he was no worse than a hundred others, 
 and I really think he was about the best-natured 
 fellow in the world, and the very best specimen of 
 his class. " So much the worse for his class ! " say you, 
 indignantly; and I heartily respond "Amen " to that. 
 
 But when Miss Virginia Randolph (whose or 
 phanage and majority put an undoubted amount 
 of convertible securities at her own disposal, and 
 thereby strongly tempted the highwayman of good 
 
174 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 society) when she turned crazy for his gifted 
 cousin, Tremaine, naturally disgusted with her 
 fickleness and nearly cut off from all hope in that 
 quarter, resolved on not incurring the risk that 
 proverbially attends the experiment of sitting on 
 two stools, and renewed his attentions most deci 
 dedly to Miss Xanthine Blake. That young lady 
 received the truant rather coldly at first, although 
 she had been nearly heart-broken by his desertion 
 and notorious flirtation with the beautiful Virginia ; 
 but Tremaine had a thousand excuses for the seem 
 ing inconstancy, enough to make it appear almost 
 heroic, and Xanthine was credulous and placable 
 to the last degree. 
 
 Poor Tremaine ! a delicate sense of poverty had 
 kept him back, had sent him away to amuse him 
 self with a forward, silly girl that he never could 
 really care for : it was a pure act of desperation. 
 He was a lawyer by profession, Xanthine knew, and 
 it took ages for lawyers to get into a self-sustaining 
 practice. [What was the reason, then, that Brad 
 ley Alford, Tremaine's partner, had already a wife 
 and two children ? for the Alfords lived on their 
 share of the common business of the office, where 
 Tom was seldom seen.] And Xanthe said it was all 
 the more romantic for that to marry Tom. Surely 
 his rich uncle James would allow him something, 
 
XANTHINE'S AFFAIRS ARE RESUMED. 175 
 
 and her papa would give her a portion on her wed 
 ding-day nothing surer : they would get along for 
 a few years on that. Ah ! Xanthine ! don't count 
 on what those few years may bring forth ! Don't 
 speculate in most distant wise on the day, inevitable 
 though it be, when the kind paternal heart shall 
 cease to beat, and somebody or other shall adminis 
 ter before Bradley Alford, Esq., or whoever shall in 
 those days be Surrogate of Gotham, on the estate, 
 real and personal, of Patrick Blake ! Youth too, O 
 Xanthine, is mortal, and many are the chances to 
 which thy sex is subject. Wife and mother thou 
 mayest lie in the grave dug by an untimely accident, 
 ere that gray head shall fall with slow decay in the 
 ripe autumn of life. Mark, I say not this will be so 
 with thee, but yet wed rather, I pray, some honest 
 man with a stout arm and a willing heart for labor, 
 who may support thee and thy babes, (if heaven send 
 them) with his daily toil in the woods and ploughed 
 fields of the new and fertile land where thy lot is 
 cast ; eat together the bread of industry it may 
 be earned in ten thousand ways : tell Tom Tremaine 
 to set to work in his office, all lined by his uncle 
 James with tawny octavos, instead of sauntering on 
 the Blooming Way speculating on heiresses and 
 hankering after the effects of their prosperous 
 papas, who have no mind to leave this world yet 
 
176 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 awhile. Papa Blake has no intent to quit this sublu 
 nary sphere, I can tell you, notwithstanding that 
 his religion bids him set his affections on one above 
 the moon and stars ; and although there is a precept 
 which says, give to him that asketh thee, he by no 
 means understands it as applying to such a trust as 
 a lovely and innocent daughter, or to so large a por 
 tion of his worldly goods with her, (dross though it 
 be,) as would suffice to maintain an idle fop like Tom 
 Tremaine in elegant style ! 
 
 Nevertheless, Mr. Tremaine determined to apply 
 for the situation of husband to Mr. Patrick Blake's 
 younger daughter, to which he trusted that a suffi 
 cient emolument would be attached, to enable him 
 to live in affluence for the remainder of his natural 
 life. The duties of the post he expected would be 
 light, as they would consist chiefly in spending his 
 wife's money, and teaching her how to make her 
 self pretty, and to cut a genteel figure in the world ; 
 he was sure he was competent to the task, and Xan- 
 thine's docility, aptitude to learn, and great admi 
 ration of himself, would render it agreeable ; and 
 upon these qualities, as well as upon her beauty, 
 sweet temper and social talent, he reflected with 
 great complacency in considering that one unavoid 
 able condition was that he should be tied to her as 
 long as they both lived. 
 
XANTHINE'S AFFAIRS ARE RESUMED. 177 
 
 So, by one of those coincidences which frequent 
 ly occur, as the young men had formed the acquaint- 
 ance of the girls on the same evening, on the same 
 evening it was, while McAboy was receiving from 
 Melanie the most sacred promise which a young per 
 son of her age, without the consent of her parents, 
 could give, and sealing it with so tender a seal, 
 which a delicate mind would consider irrevocable, 
 (as she did,) Tremaine too was cutting short his am 
 biguities, and instead of fine compliments and soft 
 gallantries, that Xanthine was bound to treat as 
 nothings, or frank confidences and glimpses of his 
 affairs that implied every thing, but which she was 
 not at liberty to seem to interpret so, put his fate in 
 her hands. 
 
 Xanthe was at home. She might have been 
 spending the evening with Mrs. Leary Mortimer, 
 after a day of shopping and calls, as Mel was do 
 ing with Mrs. Washington Lynch ; but Xanthine 
 was keeping Lent very strictly. I speak of Lent 
 and Easter for the easier understanding of my 
 readers, but of course the Gothamites had proper 
 names for these things in their own language, or 
 perhaps I should say the things rather corresponded 
 to what we are familiar with in the world, than 
 were the same. I might make Mr. Lynch, for in 
 stance, talk of its being only a fortnight to Pas, 
 8* 
 
178 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 (pronounced porse,) at this time, but who would 
 comprehend that ? It had done Xanthine a world 
 of good, Tom's shameful shilly-shallying and incon 
 stancy. It came very near a case of heart-breaking, 
 I own ; Leary Mortimer's trifling conduct never 
 hurt her half so much, for all the wet pillows and 
 red eyes it cost her ; the contrast to the happiness 
 of her sister Melanie in Donald's noble earnestness 
 and frankness, aggravated the case now, and be 
 sides, there was a piercing of the conscience, which 
 her innocent credulity as to Leary's intentions had 
 never caused, not when she blushed for it most 
 painfully. She had no mother now to soothe her 
 with pity, no sister to share her indignation and 
 exceed it : for her mother did not know the bird 
 was wounded again, and to Melanie she was careful 
 never to own that the arrow had penetrated this 
 time, and that the barb was left in the tender, 
 bleeding side. 
 
 In her agony for it was fairly that Xanthe 
 flew to religion. Now, the truth is, that woman is 
 made for love, conjugal and maternal, and when the 
 powerful sentiment which seeks this necessary com 
 pletion of the end for w r hich she was created, has 
 once been awakened and then disappointed, you 
 cannot put her off with sermons and prayers, and 
 a round of filial or sisterly duties. She craves 
 
XANTHINE'S AFFAIRS ARE RESUMED. 179 
 
 the food of love. Husband and children are now 
 become necessary to her moral organization, or it 
 fairits and dies, or else the sweetness of her loving 
 nature turns to acrid vinegar, or worse, to death by 
 poison. If religion cannot give her these things, 
 it need not try to help her. The purest virgin that 
 ever gave the model of womanhood in its ideal ex 
 cellence and untainted snow, was wife and mother 
 both. Single blessedness for woman is a monstrous 
 falsehood. /Old maidhood is a wretched, pitiable 
 condition, to which the most unhappy marriage 
 would be vastly preferable, as life, though wretched, 
 is better than annihilation, j But happily, in the 
 faith that Xanthine professed, (whatever fault I 
 may find with it,) woman was treated as woman, 
 and whether it were by some divine wisdom, or by 
 a rare human sagacity and policy, (as my friend De 
 Grotius used to contend,) the idea of a spousal re 
 lation, of which the earthly was only the symbol ; 
 of a maternity most real, most exquisite, and full 
 of joys and sufferings; had there its constant type, 
 which enabled the simplest mind to understand it ; 
 and though her weak heart, like Xanthine's, might 
 be incapable of the highest form of renunciation 
 which this blessed marriage implied, still its virtue 
 instilled into her bosom, and in "a lower step of 
 that heaven-ascending ladder taught her to rest, 
 
180 BLONDE AND BKUNETTE. 
 
 and look upward with eyes consoled though 
 tearful. 
 
 In the pastures where she fed grew a bitter 
 herb, of which she ate, and if it did not quite heal 
 her wound, it diminished the pain and inflam 
 mation, and put it in a fair way for a healthy reso 
 lution (as doctors sa}) in time. 
 
 Xanthine was at home that evening, I say a 
 good place for a woman to be. Papa and mamma 
 Blake were at home. Her brothers were at home. 
 The younger children were old enough not to be 
 sent to bed with the chickens. A safe, happy place 
 for a young woman is the family fireside. Xanthe 
 is not quite so rosy as she w r as in the purple autumn, 
 nor so plump and apple-cheeked. Her silk robe 
 decks a slenderer figure than her neat print used 
 to fit, when she gathered the blue clusters from the 
 trellis, at Red Fort, standing on a kitchen chair to 
 reach them, the children below holding a plate or 
 basket to receive the superb grapes. Her father 
 noticed that Xanthe was thin, but she was not thin. 
 Tom Tremaine could have told him that. She was 
 only more refined. Tom was right. The blue eyes 
 a little hollow, but soft and tender ; the cheek a 
 shade more delicate in tint and outline, the throat 
 less warmly rounded and caressing, the drapery 
 flowing in gentler curves, told a tale, but it was a 
 
XANTHINE'S AFFAIRS ARE RESUMED. 181 
 
 pathetic one ; and what Xanthe had lost in the 
 physical perfection that a votary of the antique 
 like McAboy admired, she had gained in the heart- 
 touching traces of suffering sweetly borne, in the 
 soul peeping out, in feminine dignity and in thought 
 ful grace. 
 
 Xanthine was happier now that she had resigned 
 herself, but she never was herself again wholly, 
 even since that rough gale had blown over and 
 calmed down. The lightsome and beautiful craft 
 showed marks of the weather she had encountered ; 
 she was not so fresh and bright as when she left 
 her port. Papa Blake wondered what made his 
 gay, good-humored girl so sad ; for indeed the sad 
 ness was more marked since its cause had ceased, 
 as Xanthe took less pains to conceal it, and if she 
 were accused of melancholy, laughed cheerfully 
 and frankly, and said she thought of taking the 
 veil. But this particular evening she was unu 
 sually merry, quite as much so as was either be 
 coming or na ural during the most solemn last of 
 her religion ; her cheerful voice ran on ; her laugh 
 broke out silvery and sweet, It was all about 
 mere nothings. You could not have remembered 
 any thing that was said for five minutes afterwards. 
 Much of it was at the expense of her elder brother 
 " Pat," she called him (he always wrote his name 
 
182 BLONDE AND BKUNETTE. 
 
 "P. Bailey Blake") who was playing some very 
 lugubrious music on the piano in the next room, 
 with a very pleasing degree of skill. In the midst 
 of this, Mr. Thomas Tremaine was announced, and 
 Xanthe se tut, as the French say, or, as her little 
 brother freely rendered it, " shut up ; " in good 
 English, held her tongue. 
 
 Tremaine was not much in the habit of coming 
 alone in the evening. It had enough of singular, 
 his doing so, to make Xanthine's heart jump at the 
 sound of his name. Papa received him with his 
 droll, Celtic courtesy, polish mingled with humor ; 
 mamma was invariably most kind to Tremaine, 
 and he liked her extremely ; Harry was always 
 glad to see Tom ; Pat Blake, junior, came away 
 from the piano, greeted the visitor with politeness, 
 and conversed with him as much as good manners 
 required ; the two younger Blakes, boy and girl, 
 showed that perfect self-possession which is so char 
 acteristic of the young Gothamites ; little Miss 
 Kitty, in particular, who was not yet out of panta 
 lets, was as graceful and ceremonious as a grown 
 woman, in welcoming " Mr. Tremaine." 
 
 Was Xanthine glad to see him ? Indeed she 
 hardly knew. All would see that the visit was in 
 tended for her : it was an avowed act of courtship 
 the first ; and while talking to Tremaine, her eye 
 
XANTHINE'S AFFAIRS ARE RESUMED. 183 
 
 roved inquisitively to her parents, to her brothers, 
 to watch for slight tokens of the way in which 
 they regarded it. That was all her present anx 
 iety. She did not foresee, nor Tremaine either, 
 that all that full domestic circle would silently melt 
 away and leave them alone. 
 
 Papa Blake found he had letters to write : he 
 did not like Tremaine, and thought he left enough 
 behind to entertain him. Kitty Blake and Frank 
 conformed to a custom of theirs, and the one in a 
 huge arm-chair, the other with his head on the 
 table, sunk into a state of oblivion to all earthly 
 plays, cares, and loves. They were huge pets, 
 having come into the world so long after their 
 brothers and sisters. Pat Blake took up Kitty in 
 his arms, her head and fair long hair drooping on 
 his stout shoulder, and bore her to some upper 
 region of warmth and curtains and snowy pillows, 
 where somebody was found to stow her away 
 properly for the night. Harry performed the same 
 kind office for Frank, and as it was not strictly the 
 maid's duty to put such a great boy to bed, good* 
 natured Hal did that too. Pat, not caring greatly 
 to return to the drawing-room, went into Frank's 
 small room and talked with Hal, during the un 
 dressing operation upon the passive brotherling. 
 While Mrs. Blake was telling Tremaine how kind 
 
184 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 her older sons were to each other and their sisters, 
 and to the younger ones, and Tom was thinking, 
 quite touched, that domestic lite and good parents 
 and loving brothers and sisters, and all that, " was 
 a capital good thing," (and Tom had never seen 
 much of it himself,) who should come in but a re 
 spectable man-servant, and say in a very defer 
 ential tone, " Mr. Blake begs to speak to you for 
 a moment up-stairs, ma'am." 
 
 "Excuse me for a moment, Mr. Tremaine," 
 said Mrs. Blake. " Mr. Blake cannot find his ink 
 stand, I presume." 
 
 " If that's all, it's in my room, ma ! " cried 
 Xanthe, with a blush. " Let me go." 
 
 But Mrs. Blake was already gone, and Xanthine 
 could not leave their visitor absolutely to his own 
 reflections in the scarce a moment ago well-peopled 
 drawing-room. 
 
 Tremaine seized the occasion. In a hundred 
 years could he hope for a better ? Everybody was 
 absent longer than anybody intended. Nay, the 
 door-bell rang, unheeded by the busily occupied 
 groups up-stairs and down ; the respectable man 
 servant let in McAboy and Miss Blake, who, after 
 some delay, timidly entered the drawing-room, 
 where, by the cheerful fire and soft moon-like lamp 
 used by the rich Gothamites, sat Xanthine and 
 
XANTHINE'S AFFAIRS are RESUMED. 185 
 
 Tremaine, the former all covered and veiled with 
 roses that grew in her own garden, the finest that 
 ever bloomed, and the latter, as if he'd been rifling 
 them, looked a little apprehensive and guilty, like 
 a cat found in the milk-pantry, and yet radiant too 
 (the fellow was) with the purest and most honora 
 ble happiness (to do him justice) that he had ever 
 enjoyed. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 ME. BLAKE USES IMPROPER LANGUAGE. 
 
 WHEN Mr. Blake discovered that his inkstand 
 was missing, his first thought, in truth, was to ac 
 cuse Xanthine (so well were her habits known) of 
 purloining it. It had happened before that the 
 same useful article (without which a writing-desk 
 is nearly useless, though well furnished in other 
 respects) had been taken away in the course of a 
 morning, and subsequently found in Xanthine's 
 apartment, with a copy of verses under it very 
 likely, (the child having a turn that way,) verses 
 which in many cases came to be read afterwards 
 (being usually more comic than sentimental) for the 
 amusement of the family. 
 
 Consequently, without making a disturbance, 
 the good, indulgent papa proceeded straight to his 
 younger daughter's room, a snug little piece on the 
 story above, but one that boasted few conveniences 
 
MK. BLAKE USES IMPROPER LANGUAGE. 187 
 
 for writing, (if one had much of a literary turn,) 
 being destitute of a fireplace, for example ; a dis 
 advantage compensated for other purposes, by a 
 communication with Melanie's larger apartment, 
 which enjoyed the use of one, at this season freely 
 replenished. Here, to be sure, on a small table, 
 Mr. Blake found his inkstand, but nearly minus 
 ink, a circumstance for which an unsightly dark 
 spot in the nice damask table-cover, as if somebody 
 had had the mischance to overset the stand in their 
 haste, sufficiently accounted. First taking note by 
 the aid of his candle of the low state of the ink, 
 and then glancing round with the peculiar dis 
 satisfaction which this discovery invariably pro 
 duces, the worthy papa, a little vexed with his 
 Xanthe, observed of her carelessness several traces 
 which at another time he might have overlooked, 
 or deemed no subject of his animadversion. Two 
 at least of the drawers of her pretty walnut dress 
 ing bureau were gaping, and in one of these a paper 
 caught his eye, scrawled over, in a feminine hand, 
 with lines that evidently were verses. 
 
 To tease Xanthe by the seizure of her MS., 
 seemed to her father a very suitable punishment 
 of the slipshod habits which had left it exposed. 
 He drew it forth, therefore, and with no more 
 scruple than he would have inspected a drawing 
 
188 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 of Melanie's, perused the following lackadaisical 
 lines : 
 
 " Beat on, my heart, by treason well-nigh broke ! 
 
 Weep still, mine eyes, your traitor's late return ; 
 Bend low, my head ! to take love's half-'scaped yoke ; 
 My breast ! half-cooled, with ancient ardors burn ! 
 
 " Oh weakest heart ! that canst not him disdain, 
 
 Who made mine eyes such floods of sorrow pour ; 
 Ah, silly neck ! to take that yoke again, 
 
 Which might have made me burn forever more. 
 
 " Good lack ! how shall I e'er at peace arrive ? 
 Which way I turn, disaster hems me round. 
 I die outright, except my love do thrive, 
 
 Which thriving gives my soul a mortal wound. 
 
 " teach me, some good Power ! the way to find, 
 Kindly to love, yet to myself be kind." 
 
 This silly rhapsody at first reading made Mr. 
 Blake laugh, but as it had, after all, a certain mu 
 sical flow in its conceits, he read it again, and re 
 calling Xanthine's late melancholy and loss of flesh 
 and color, he began to think that it might perhaps 
 be a picture, not much exaggerated, of her feelings 
 in regard to somebody ; and with that he began 
 to be displeased at the verses. Not being so fa 
 miliar with the conventional language of poetry as 
 his daughter doubtless was, he was even so unrea- 
 
MR. BLAKE USES IMPROPER LANGUAGE. 189 
 
 sonable as to blame the use of such words as 
 "ardors" and "burning" in a young lady's com 
 position, not considering that these were consecra 
 ted forms of expression to describe feelings which, 
 as the writer experienced them, were certainly as 
 pure, and as consistent with perfect modesty, as 
 any feelings could be. Who the person was, alluded 
 to in such pointed terms as a "traitor," it was 
 natural for Mr. Blake to suspect ; and he had asso 
 ciations (as we are aware) with the individual, and 
 with his name, which roused his indignation at the 
 bare idea that such an one should have trifled with 
 his daughter. Scarcely against any one could 
 stronger objections exist, and he was glad at any 
 rate to see that Xanthe was sensible of one of 
 them ; for in no other sense could he understand 
 how " her love's thriving " should " give her soul 
 a mortal wound," than as implying the danger to 
 her salvation from marrying a Negative, and an 
 irreligious and worldly one at that. In short, Mr. 
 Blake repaired to his own apartment again, taking 
 the paper with him, and having sent for his wife, as 
 we have already seen, (at the least favorable min 
 ute he could have chosen, though the most for 
 tunate for our friend Tom,) saying nothing to her 
 about the exhausted inkstand, he put the poor 
 little sonnet before her, with " What is all this 
 
190 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 stuff, Julia, that Xanthe's been writing ? Can you 
 tell me what it means ? " 
 
 " It is rather pretty, said Mrs. Blake, after read 
 ing it ; "I did not think the child could write half 
 so well." 
 
 " And I thrust ye admire the sentiment, Jule, 
 as will as the stoile o' composeetion," said her hus 
 band, in a richer accent than usual. " Begad ! " 
 (but that wasn't the expression he used) " an' if 
 you do, it's what I don't ! " 
 
 " Don't swear don't Pat dear ! " said Mrs. 
 Blake, in a tender, imploring voice. "The senti 
 ment is borrowed no doubt, my dear. Xanthe 
 reads an immensity of poetry in those British clas 
 sics of yours " looking up at a set of some forty 
 elegantly bound little volumes in the book-case 
 over the escritoire ; " this is imitated from some 
 of those old writers ; you may see it is, by the 
 heathenish turn at the end; very likely it is just 
 copied from one of them." 
 
 "May be it's copied," said her husband 
 gravely, "but I warrant Xanthe thinks it suits 
 her own case, or she wouldn't have taken the 
 throuble." 
 
 " Ah well," rejoined his wife, " it is an exag 
 gerated expression of the way she may have felt 
 at some passing disappointment. La! I reniein- 
 
MR. BLAKE USES IMPROPER LANGUAGE. 191 
 
 ber, Pat " smiling and laying her still fair hand 
 on his shoulder " I remember when I was in the 
 depths of despair about a Mr. Tremaine," (Mad 
 am's voice sank a little though,) " who had jilted 
 me, you know, and three months after I thought 
 it was the most fortunate circumstance of my life 
 and I think so still, Pat Blake ! " added she kiss 
 ing him with tears in her eyes. " You know it as 
 well as I, ye bihunagh," * imitating his brogue. 
 
 " Ye're a sinsible woman, Jule," said Mr. Blake, 
 submitting to the caress with the grace of a half 
 roused lion, when the dear lioness pets him " but " 
 with a mixture of humor and determination in 
 his gray twinkling eye " look after your daughter, 
 I beg, for I'll be " (here he made use of another 
 expression too shocking to repeat) " I'll be dashed 
 if any body called Tremaine shall ever have me 
 darling child to ruin and maltrate and neglict." 
 
 " Dear Pat my dear husband be calm. What 
 is the use ? There is no danger, I'm sure." 
 
 " He is a lazy spendthrift, like his father before 
 him," said Mr. Blake. 
 
 " Let us hope he won't turn out so," replied 
 Mrs. Blake gently. 
 
 " An' a Nigative ! " says her husband. " She'll 
 lose her soul, as she says. !N~o child of mine, with 
 
 *Eihunagh, thief, used as a term of endearment. 
 
 ?.-, thief, used 
 
192 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 my consint, shall ever marry out of her own bless 
 ed faith. I did it, but two wrongs don't make a 
 right. There, I've set down me fut, Jule." 
 
 " Well, Pat," said his wife, " I agree with you 
 on that point perfectly, and that reminds me " 
 (bethinking herself how she had left the young 
 people together)" that I must go back to the 
 drawing-room." 
 
 So Mrs. Blake, without thinking it necessary, 
 in his excited state of mind, to explain the why to 
 her husband, returned with all speed to the draw 
 ing-room, to secure as effectually as she could 
 the stable door after the beautiful filly was 
 stolen. 
 
 And here I can't help observing that Mr. Pat 
 rick Blake was very ill advised to use profane lan 
 guage, because his daughters, he feared, were 
 going to disregard their religion in another way, 
 perhaps a good deal less wicked and dangerous. 
 It occurs to me to ask whether a swearing father 
 
 O 
 
 (their religion forbidding to swear) would be like 
 ly to impress his children with a profound sense of 
 the necessity of letting that religion exercise a 
 veto power over the indulgence of their innocent 
 affections. What else could he expect, indeed, than 
 that those daughters in due time should wed " out 
 of their blessed faith," (as he said,) in whose behalf, 
 
MR. BLAKE USES IMPROPER LANGUAGE. 193 
 
 before bringing them into the world, he himself 
 had made no stipulation that they should be so 
 much as bred in it, and that while he was giving 
 them a mother who was not of it. And if the risk 
 were so great to their salvation as he pretended, 
 why did he expose them to a greater ? It is like 
 ly enough that Mr. Blake consulted, in this instance, 
 for his daughters' children, rather than for them 
 selves ; but I own I see more pride than piety in 
 the resolution that no grandchild of his should be 
 a " Nigative " by any chance, when he bound him 
 self to be no matter what (something dreadful) 
 rather than they should run the remote or prox 
 imate risk of such a fate. 
 
 Blake was a good man in the main, and a good 
 Christian, I allow. He never swore but when he 
 was in a passion. I don't suppose that he would 
 be sent to Gehenna merely because he talked of it 
 too lightly ; but if anybody who is a particular saint 
 infer the likelihood of some temporal punishment 
 following such peccadilloes, I have nothing to say. 
 Oh, Pat Blake ! in several ways you are in for it ; 
 and I apprehend that the time has come to make 
 you suffer a little, through your natural pride as a 
 father, your prudence as a man of the world, and 
 your kind old heart. 
 
 But why should we care any thing for the 
 9 
 
194 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 feelings of old Blake, when he stands in the way 
 of younger heroes? It is not the way of the 
 world at present, and I do not wish to be out of 
 the fashion. Let the old folks, then, stand aside, 
 and give the young ones a clear stage for their 
 struggles, their sufferings, their pleasures and their 
 loves. 
 
 For the same reason I should pass lightly over 
 the scene between Mrs. Blake and the younger 
 daughter, the surprise and consternation of the 
 former at the strange and inauspicious concurrence 
 of events, when, on Melanie quitting her, after the 
 tearful interview of which I have afforded a 
 glimpse, Xanthine, in her turn, came in, with a 
 nervous tap and a whispered "It's I, ma;" and 
 flinging her arms round the maternal neck, cried, 
 " Oh, dear mother, if pa and you please, I am en 
 gaged to Mr. Tremaine ! " 
 
 u Engaged ! " How little the young maid 
 knows or regards the tremendous interests involved 
 in that one word. Not only her own mortal and 
 immortal destiny, but that perhaps of the genera 
 tions of which her plighted bosom is the germ, 
 turns on it. The future is as long as the past, for 
 all we know, and that blushing girl may become, 
 like Sara or Rebecca, the mother of mighty nations. 
 Kings may spring from her soft pledge ; heroes, 
 
MB. BLAKE USES IMPROPER LANGUAGE. 195 
 
 scholars, patriots, inventors, tyrants, criminals, wo 
 men who shall be the glory, and those who shall 
 be the shame of their sex, saints who shall chant 
 the praise of their Redeemer in Paradise eternally, 
 and reprobate crowds who shall execrate their pro 
 genitors, and her above all, and the day they were 
 born, and the hour of her betrothal, in the infernal 
 caverns. From all eternity the Creator has pre 
 destined all these to enjoy the boon of life and im 
 mortality, yet hath suspended the decree on this 
 act of her weak will. August creature ! Time 
 was when woman could reach no higher dignity, 
 which is only represented by that of queens, but 
 which belongs equally to every blue-kirtled peas 
 ant that listens to the tale of love whispered through 
 a cottage window. 
 
 Surely, unless women sweetly consented, as they 
 do, to become wives and mothers, the world would 
 come to an end, (and small fun would there be then 
 in writing books, with nobody to read ;) for the 
 stream of humanity is always flowing through their 
 wedded hearts ; but better it should come to an 
 end, and the stream disappear in dry sand, than 
 that the idea of woman herself, in her perfect eter 
 nal state, should be lost on earth, giving place to 
 the sensual dream of the spiritual rapper, or the 
 degraded hope that cheats the Mormon. 
 
196 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 And therefore it is, that, (seeing there is a re 
 source, and woman needs marriage neither for her 
 highest dignity here, nor to secure her admission 
 to Heaven hereafter,) I wish they would exercise 
 more discretion in using that modest power of con 
 sent which nature and the laws of God and man 
 have given them, following reason as rational crea 
 tures, and piety as heirs of heavenly bliss, not in 
 clination or fancy, like the poor pagans who adored 
 a host of gods and went hopeless ad inferos, or the 
 modern infidels and illuminati, who believe not in 
 any, or, what amounts to the same thing, consider 
 each transient longing of their own corrupt hearts 
 as an inspiration and a command of the Supreme. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 BOTH BOATS IN THE KAPIDS. 
 
 NEVERTHELESS, I do care enough for the feel 
 ings of the respectable father and mother in this 
 case, to record how Mrs. Blake could not or would 
 not keep the double secret confided to her, even 
 for a single night ; how she made her husband par 
 taker in it, and robbed his pillow of all sweet re 
 pose. It came upon the old man like a thunderbolt, 
 that both his daughters were not only attached to 
 Nigatives, but actually plighted to them. One 
 alone it would have been comparatively easy to 
 deal with, but to seem to tyrannize over them both 
 was hard. Moreover, there was a great difference 
 in the two cases, and yet it would be very difficult, 
 and seem very cruel, to make one. 
 
 " That McAboy," said he to his wife, " is a young 
 man of great promise. He has talents, he has in 
 dustry, he has notions of business, he pays his debts 
 
198 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 and keeps accounts. If he were only not a Niga- 
 tive, I'd not object to Melanie having him. But 
 the other is a humbug a poor-spirited crayture, 
 who'd be coiitiut to live on his wife's money in idle 
 ness and dissipation." 
 
 At breakfast next morning both girls were ex 
 tremely aifectionate to their old father, putting 
 their arms round his neck and kissing him with 
 mighty fondness ; but he scolded and growled and 
 acted otherwise in a very improper manner, show 
 ing that fathers ought to be got under betimes by 
 their children, or in the end there'll be no bearing 
 them, they're so positive and despotic. Indeed, 
 before the matin meal was over, Mr. Blake did, in 
 a most indelicate way, which nothing but a defec 
 tive early education could excuse, before all the 
 family, blurt right out his opinion of the case in 
 hand, and the way he was determined to settle it; 
 and Xanthine cried and hid her face, and Melanie, 
 pale and haughty, rose from the table and walked 
 to the window. It might very well be that the 
 light and unsatisfying nature of the Lenten break 
 fast for the older members of the family contrib 
 uted something to this outbreak, a circumstance 
 which the young ladies, with their usual supply of 
 buckwheats and foamy tumblers of milk, did not 
 consider sufficiently. Young people seldom have 
 
BOTH BOATS IN THE EAPIDS. 199 
 
 much consideration for the old, nor people who are 
 full for those who are fasting. Old Blake went 
 hungry and irritated to his counting-house, as 
 Xanthe loved to call it his store, as he called it 
 himself. His daughters retired to their rooms, 
 where Xanthe cried herself sick, and Melanie, who 
 did not weep, and never complained of her head 
 ache, seemed to lie sullenly on her couch, idle and 
 silent, pale and proud. But I have heard her say, 
 long after, that people were very unjust to her in 
 thinking so, for the fact was that disappointment 
 and wounded feeling made her bilious, it was 
 her constitution, and preventing the process of di 
 gestion, caused the buckwheat cakes and milk to 
 lie heavy on her stomach, and in short produced a 
 violent attack of dyspepsia. The proper homoe 
 opathic remedy is chamomilla. The headache, as 
 she described it to me, was " throbbing and violent, 
 with a dreadful pressure over the eyes and a horrid 
 uncomfortable feeling in the occiput." All pro 
 duced by her father's shocking behavior that 
 morning, and the desecration of her love for Don 
 ald by that unfeeling parent, in speaking of it be 
 fore her brothers, and " even little Kitty." There 
 need be no wonder she felt it. 
 
 " Do you think it was fair or kind, Mel, to speak 
 of our being so extraordinary religious as to choose 
 
200 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 Lent for our ' amatory arrangements ? ' " criod 
 Xanthine, with red eyes. " Could we help it ? 
 Can Negatives, like Mr. McAboy and his cousin, 
 be expected to pay the same regard to Lent that 
 we do ? When such a serious proposal," added 
 Xanthine, "was made to us, could we answer 
 ' Wait till after Easter before you speak of these 
 matters?' Would they not have thought we 
 were making fun of them ? Or else that we were 
 a pair of hypocritical pretenders ? I am sure they 
 would." 
 
 " Perhaps not," said Melanic, in a constrained 
 voice. " Our religion is nothing to them, but they 
 know or ought to know that it is every thing to 
 us." 
 
 " Do you think we were wrong, then, in that ? " 
 
 " I don't think any thing about it," answered 
 Melanie, shortly. 
 
 " How cross you are ! " said Xanthe. 
 
 "Well, dear Xanthe," said Melanie, "my con 
 science has told me all along that I was doing wrong 
 in being so interested in Donald, and listening to 
 his secret suit, but it doesn't prick me much, be 
 cause I took a day in Lent to repent and tell ma all 
 about it, and send Donald to pa for his leave 
 
 to " Melanie did not finish, her voice being 
 
 choked by a dreadful rising in the throat. 
 
BOTH BOATS IN THE RAPIDS. 201 
 
 It was really lucky for Donald that he did not 
 call at " pa's counting-house " (to adopt Xanth's 
 elegant phrase) until about the hour of noon. Mr. 
 Blake, the clerks said, was just gone to lunch, 
 which McAboy considered unfortunate, as he would 
 lose an hour by it, but that was surely better than to 
 lose his suit. Mr. Blake returned in three-quarters 
 of an hour, having consumed some eight ounces of 
 biscuit and raw oysters, with a glass of tolerable 
 stiff brandy toddy, a thing that notably disposes to 
 kind social feelings. He was quite another man, 
 and being delighted to see Donald rather than Tre- 
 maine, shook hands with the young artist almost 
 cordially, offered him a cigar (which McAboy took) 
 and inquired after his health, as if he hadn't a 
 daughter in the world. It was not his part, in 
 deed, to be aware of Donald's business, until the 
 latter broached it. It is noteworthy, by the way, 
 that when you call to ask people for any thing, they 
 never anticipate you, although they know perfectly 
 what you are after. McAboy was not sorry, as it 
 gave him an opportunity to make his approaches 
 in the manner which he judged most likely to en 
 sure success. 
 
 He had brought with him his account book, 
 wherein, with true McAboy punctuality, he had 
 entered all his receipts and expenditures since he 
 9* 
 
202 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 came of age. all according to the system of double 
 entry. He wanted Mr. Blake to do him the favor 
 to run his eye over it. The account was minute 
 ly accurate, and regularly balanced once in six 
 months, although the credits in one year (the last 
 that Donald was abroad) did not exceed the mag 
 nificent sum of $295. On the first day of the cur 
 rent year the balances indicated that McAboy was 
 then even with the world, though without a shot in 
 the locker when his washer-woman's bill was settled, 
 not leaving a penny, as he laughingly said, to pay 
 the book-keeper's salary. Since then, the debits 
 to cash had gone on increasing in amount and fre 
 quency, showing a steadily advancing income ; and 
 lastly he exhibited his bank book written up to the 
 close of the preceding week, with a clear surplus 
 of $497 on the first quarter of the year, standing 
 to his credit. 
 
 " At this rate," continued McAboy, " my total 
 income this year won't fall short of $3,000." 
 
 " If ye want to invest," said Mr. Blake, u I'd ad 
 vise the Pequod Mills Manufacturing Company, in 
 the State of Penobscot. J'm a large stockholder 
 myself. Pity you didn't drop in an hour or two 
 earlier. Me old and highly respicted friend, the 
 Hon. Plato Vernon of Shawmut, President of the 
 Company, was here, and would have given you 
 
BOTH BOATS IN THE RAPIDS. 203 
 
 every information. He thinks (and he's a very 
 cautious man) that in two years the Pequod will 
 divide eight per cent, semiannually." 
 
 But Donald proposed to invest his spare funds 
 for the present in a shape more attractive to a young 
 man than the stock of the Pequod Mills. He point 
 ed out to Mr. Blake that his position allowed him 
 to marry. " Oh, that's well," said Mr. Blake. " A 
 young man can't do better. Ye're not far from 
 thirty, Mr. McAboy." " Seven and twenty," said 
 Donald. " Very good very proper age." " And 
 I am ardently attached to a young lady of twenty 
 summers or thereabouts, as she gives me to under 
 stand," pursued Donald, smiling. " That's all very 
 well, and very suitable," said Mr. Blake, gravely. 
 " Our attachment is mutual," continued Donald, 
 " and has been in existence some months, though 
 not so openly avowed on the young lady's side till 
 now ; which has not been owing, however, to any 
 want of explicitness on my part. My admiration and 
 the serious intent of it were as plainly confessed to 
 her six months ago, as I have stated them to you, 
 sir, this moment. I nee^l hardly say that I mean 
 your daughter, Miss Melanie Blake, sir." " I am 
 very sorry to hear it," said Mr. Blake. " I hope 
 not," says Donald. 
 
 There w r as a brief silence, w r hich Mr. Blake 
 Iroke. 
 
204 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 " I am aware of Melanie's attachment to you, 
 Mr. McAboy. You have won my daughter's affec 
 tions without asking my leave, I must say ; but let 
 that pass. It seems to be the way of this country 
 I am very much obliged to you for the honor you 
 do our family by the proposition, and I'll say can 
 didly, that in every respect but one I consider it a 
 highly eligible one for my daughter ; but what 
 that objection is you know, Mr. McAboy, as well 
 as I do. Religion, sir, is the most important thing 
 in life. If you were of our faith, I'd give my con- 
 sint with the greatest pleasure in the world.'' 
 
 " You married a Negative, Mr. Blake," says 
 McAboy. 
 
 " I did, sir, but my example is no rule for my 
 daughters," replied Mr. Blake, w T armly, " and it's 
 one I don't intend them to follow." 
 
 " If I were hostile to your religion, or preju 
 diced against it, there would be some reason in 
 that objection,'' replied Donald. " But there's no 
 rule that does not admit of exceptions, sir. I have 
 the highest respect for the ancient Church, sir. It 
 was the first, and they say it will be the last. I 
 would never interfere with my wife's religion." 
 
 " Something more than that is requisite," an 
 swered Mr. Blake, quickly, hastening to make a 
 declaration that he hoped would conclude the dis- 
 
BOTH BOATS IN THE RAPIDS. 205 
 
 cussion, as in most cases it would. " Except on 
 one condition the Church disallows such marriages 
 altogether, and except with that condition, I am 
 firmly resolved no Nigative shall iver marry one of 
 my daughters with my consint, as the consint and 
 sanction of the Church they can't have, and I don't 
 believe Melanie or Xanthine would be so undutiful 
 and so impious as to marry without both. All the 
 children, of both sexes, without any distinction, 
 must be brought up strictly in our faith. The he 
 retical party (excuse me, sir) must solemnly prom 
 ise that, or the Church forbids the banns, Mister 
 McAboy." 
 
 " Is that all ? I agree to that condition with 
 the greatest pleasure," cried McAboy, eagerly. 
 " Nothing would annoy me so much, I assure you, 
 as that Melanie's conscience should not be entirely 
 satisfied in her marriage. And as respects the 
 case of children," added he, in a deep voice, and 
 with his dark, ruddy cheek flushing, " if Heaven 
 should bless us with them, by whom could they be 
 taught religion better than by a mother ? And of 
 course she would teach them her own. Brothers 
 and sisters, too, should be of the same faith. I 
 should always go to church with Melanie, if I went 
 anywhere ; and in fact, sir, I've not crossed the 
 threshold of any other kind of church but yours 
 
206 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 these five or six years. Artists are not very re 
 ligious, but the music and the pictures were always 
 attracting me into your temples when I was abroad, 
 and here I go nowhere. That's all right, sir, I 
 hope." 
 
 Mr. Blake now felt himself in an unpleasant 
 
 position for the salvation of his consistency. 
 
 Here was a young man of high moral character, 
 (though no religion,) of eminent talents, distin 
 guished in an art that was a source of both wealth 
 and fame, a youth of thorough business habits, in 
 the receipt of a handsome income already, and far 
 too clever and industrious to lose it, fondly at 
 tached to his daughter, and she to him, willing to 
 make every concession on the point of religion that 
 the Church herself required what more could he 
 ask ? He could not help remembering that Me- 
 lanie, with all her personal attractions and fine 
 character, had never had a suitor before. Either 
 she was despised for her religion, or feared for her 
 wit and quick perception of the ridiculous, or un 
 popular for her shy, proud manner. " The girl is 
 more than half Yengeese," said her father, " our 
 Celtic boys don't take to her, nor she to them. 
 Some are too plain, like her old father ; some are 
 proud, silly daws that must needs strut about in 
 the borrowed plumes of the native peacocks : Mel 
 
BOTH BOATS IN THE RAPIDS. 20 7 
 
 laughs at the latter most of all. And this McAboy 
 is a sweetheart that any girl may be proud of, any 
 how. It is curious," reasoned Mr. Blake, "that 
 our two kinds of people would each rather choose 
 out of the other for mates, if this bar of religion 
 were not between. But for that, the two races 
 would flow together and mingle like two confluent 
 strames." 
 
 Personal liking, too, has a great influence. Don 
 ald's physique was agreeable to Melanie's father, as 
 it was to Melanie's father's daughter, no doubt. 
 There was something in the cut of his head and 
 figure that told of the old country ; he had an 
 honest, plain, earnest style of face, belonging to 
 the Caledonian Celt ; his complexion, though deep 
 ly embrowned, was not sallow like this Western 
 people's ; clear was its tinge of red, and pure white 
 the brow where the hat had protected it a com 
 plexion of the old isles. Mr. Blake loved it, as was 
 natural. 
 
 The reflection which decided Melanie's father 
 was the same that decides so many similar cases in 
 the humbler walks of life. It was doubtful whether, 
 being the girl she was, she would ever have another 
 Mich opportunity of being married to her mind. 
 For if she was attractive, she was difficult ; if she 
 was rich in expectation, she was of an unpopulai 
 
208 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 religion ; few " Nigatives " would consent so readily 
 as McAboy to those strict conditions (notwithstand 
 ing their obvious tendency to promote the mere 
 temporal happiness of the new family, which was 
 going to be formed of partly discordant materials) ; 
 and last of all (deeply to be considered by one who 
 knew Melanie) her virgin affections had now been 
 once bestowed ; they would neither bear easily to 
 be taken back, nor be given elsewhere without 
 pain and self-dissatisfaction, and loss of their first 
 delicacy and freshness. It was more than likely 
 they never would bloom a second time, if they 
 were now cut down to the roots. The plant was 
 too delicate for that kind of treatment. 
 
 "Well, wait till after Easter, Mr. McAboy. 
 We must talk to Melanie seriously, and set before 
 her what she is going to do. Her spiritual director 
 must have his say on this important point of con 
 duct, that is to decide her whole life, and perhaps 
 the next life too. In the mean time I will be obliged 
 to you," said Mr. Blake, who, when he chose, spoke 
 as pure English as any body in the world almost, 
 " not to attempt seeing my daughter. You will 
 do me the favor, that is, not to visit our house till 
 you hear from me again." 
 
 " That is hard," said Donald. " At least allow 
 me one more interview, before you try to change 
 
BOTH BOATS IN THE EAPIDS. 209 
 
 Melanie's mind just to assure her of my fidel 
 ity." 
 
 " N"o, no ! no interviews ! " replied Mr. Blake, 
 with a sagacious shake of the head. " You may 
 write any thing you like, in an unsealed note, which 
 I will deliver." 
 
 Donald colored, but sat quietly down to a desk 
 and w r rote 
 
 "87 RUBY STEEET, Friday. 
 " DEAKEST MELANIE, 
 
 " Till you take the veil or wed another, 
 " I remain, 
 
 " Faithfully yours, 
 
 " DONALD. 
 " Miss MELANIE BLAKE, 
 
 " Santaklaus Square." 
 
 Having offered this to her father, who perused 
 it, Donald tucked it neatly into an envelope, ad 
 dressed and sealed it, and handed it to Mr. Blake. 
 So he went away, having absolutely forgot to say a 
 single word (as he had promised) in behalf of Tom. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 YOUNG GOTHAM HOLDS A COUNCIL. 
 
 WHEN Mr. Blake said that Melanie was half 
 Yengee, he might have reflected that this was a 
 consequence of a choice which he had made with 
 deliberation, and yet with passionate eagerness, 
 some thirty years before. And the remark might 
 have been extended to Xanthine, although in her 
 the Yengee element was more latent, and it re 
 sulted (as we have before observed) that those who 
 knew only Yengee or Celtic character, could never 
 calculate on what either of those girls would do in 
 given circumstances. I am far from thinking that 
 this was a disadvantage to them, all things con 
 sidered ; it threw around them a delightful mys 
 tery ; it perplexed you, it gave you frequent sur 
 prises, and it certainly narrowed their power of 
 being perfectly satisfied, inasmuch as they required 
 a combination of different qualities, and could 
 
YOUNG GOTHAM HOLDS A COUNCIL. 211 
 
 judge according to two widely different standards. 
 On the surface, Melanie was more correct and self- 
 balanced, Xanthine more impulsive and careless ; 
 but in the depths of their characters, when they 
 were fairly stirred up, Melanie was warm-hearted 
 and passionate, while Xanthine in the same circum 
 stances was capable of exhibiting a firmness, or 
 obstinacy, if you like, that no one would have sus 
 pected. This was the fair and spirited team that 
 Mr. Patrick Blake had undertaken to drive, and 
 which he was bound, indeed, to conduct in safety 
 over a perilous road, winding down a mountain 
 pass, by the side of dizzy, bush-clad precipices, 
 with a roaring torrent (as we've said before) of 
 youthful passion dashing on at the bottom, and 
 wetting the short turns of the zig-zag with the 
 spray of its frequent cascades. The " illigant cray- 
 tures " themselves are fairly excited with the dan 
 ger and the rapid descent ; to give them their head, 
 or to hold them in, is an equal risk ; if they take 
 the bit betwixt their teeth, as is likely, we shall 
 have an upset, as sure as I'm alive. 
 
 Indeed, I meant this for a merry story, and I 
 fear it is going to turn out a sad one. That is nat 
 ural, at least ; for (as the admired satirist, Whack- 
 away, would say) there never was a laugh yet but 
 it was paid for by a groan of agony from some 
 
212 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 wrung heart or other, never a smile but its rosy 
 trace was soon washed out by the trickling of a 
 bitter tear. 
 
 McAboy and Tremaine, as we hinted at the 
 close of the last chapter, were not long in discover 
 ing how they mutually stood with the sisters, and 
 they consulted together freely as to the best mode 
 of proceeding with their suit. 
 
 " What provision do you intend to make for 
 the support of your wife, Tom, when you have got 
 her ? " inquired McAboy, not in the old sarcastic 
 vein, but kindly. 
 
 " Well, I suppose the old gentleman will settle 
 something handsome on Xanthine, when she's mar 
 ried," quoth Tom. 
 
 " Don't be too sure of that," returned Donald. 
 " Nothing in the world more likely than that be 
 sides her outfit and wedding-gear, the bridal pres 
 ents and so on, which will rather entail expense 
 than lessen it, she wont have a penny from the old 
 man at present. If you take his daughter, he'll 
 expect you to maintain her, depend upon it. For 
 my part, I don't want any thing with Melanie but 
 herself. I love my future wife for herself alone, 
 and I expect the greatest pleasure in earning her 
 daily bread as well as my own," concluded Donald. 
 
 Tom was silent, as they moved along the night- 
 
YOUNG GOTHAM HOLDS A COUNCIL. 213 
 
 gloomy Blooming Way, rendered so by the closing 
 of the gay shops and the disappearance of the 
 street-passengers. He was ruminating on the ab 
 solute impossibility of his doing any thing of the 
 sort. Yet why was it impossible ? Why couldn't 
 he do what McAboy did ? Donald had a year or 
 two the start of him in life, but in their professional 
 careers Tremaine had the lead. 
 
 " Donald has genius ! " sighed Tom. 
 
 The thing of all others, Tom, without industry 
 and practical judgment, to ensure speedy ruin or 
 endless embarrassments ! 
 
 " What is your income, Tom, if I may be so 
 bold as to ask ? " demanded Donald, his cousin's 
 silence continuing. 
 
 " Rather indefinite, I confess," said Tremaine, 
 candidly. "It don't support me alone without 
 running in debt, and how it is to do for another, in 
 the style Xanthine and I are accustomed to live, 
 puzzles me." 
 
 " Still let us look at it," said Donald. " Come 
 up into my rooms and we'll talk it over." 
 
 They went up McAboy's now dark and silent 
 stair, passed Madame Ruban's doors close-locked 
 and shuttered, and that of the working-rooms above 
 in the same state. In the studio they found warmth, 
 and in an instant, light. McAboy got pencil and 
 
214 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 paper, and sitting down by his shaded gas burner, 
 demanded the items of Tom's income. 
 
 " Well, in the first place there's the office the 
 law partnership of ' Alford and Tremaine ; ' we 
 divide equally." 
 
 " And work unequally," said Donald. 
 
 " Last year my share was eight hundred pias 
 ters," Tom said. " But out of that I had to pay 
 three hundred to a clerk to do the copying and 
 engrossing for me. Alford does his own." 
 
 " You can save that expense as well as he," said 
 Donald. " Work nights, Tom. Be independent, 
 man ! In a year you'll be obliged to keep a clerk 
 for this extra drudgery, just as I'm going to em 
 ploy a young fellow of some promise to paint back 
 grounds and draperies for me. Set down the office 
 income at eight hundred. What next ? " 
 
 " I am a Commissioner of Deeds," said Tom. 
 " That would be worth about four hundred more, 
 if I was to attend to it." 
 
 " Attend to it, then, and make it worth four 
 hundred. What more ? The governor allows you 
 something ? '* 
 
 " He allowed me to lend him a cool fifty last 
 Easter," said Tom, laughing, "which he has never 
 paid to this day." 
 
 " When you are married, Tom, you must stop 
 
YOUNG GOTHAM HOLDS A COUNCIL. 215 
 
 lending to the governor," replied Donald determin 
 edly. " It is written that the fathers should lay 
 up for the children, and not the children for the 
 fathers, and that a man shall leave his father and 
 mother and cleave unto his wife. I'm all for going 
 according to Scripture in these things. Well, 
 there's uncle James, what does he do for you ? " 
 
 " James McAboy, Esq., gave us our law library, 
 and paid our office rent the first two years. Since 
 then he has lent me two or three hundred piasters, 
 which he carefully enters in his books, so that it 
 will have to come out of whatever he may leave 
 me in his last will and testament," Tom said. 
 
 " You mustn't count on uncle James. If you 
 were getting on, he would do something handsome 
 for you, no doubt ; pay your rent or furnish your 
 house. But it appears, Tom, that by merely at 
 tending to your business, and doing your work 
 yourself, you will have a clear income of $1,200. 
 'Fore George ! Tom, if you can't live with Xanthine 
 on that, you don't deserve to get her that's all." 
 
 " If I wasn't so sadly behindhand," groaned 
 Tom. " I'm like Sheridan, my good fellow I O 
 every body." 
 
 "That's unfortunate," groaned McAboy. 
 " How a fellow can be in debt who has had a clear 
 $500 a year, and has lived with his uncle, board- 
 
216 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 free, as you have with uncle James, (wonder if he 
 charges your board on his books, to be deducted 
 from your legacy ?) I say it passes my comprehen 
 sion. But you have got something to set off against 
 your debts, Tom. There's your buggy, or phaeton, 
 or curricle, or whatever you call it, and your span 
 of horses " 
 
 " Oh, - - it ! " cried Tom, " they'd hardly 
 pay the bill of the stable-keeper." 
 
 " Sell them and pay his bill, then. Come, give 
 us the debts. So " setting down item after item, 
 as Tremaine naively specified the bills from a some 
 what retentive memory, (it is a sort of honesty for 
 a man to remember what he owes,) " in all" fig 
 uring up " six hundred and ninety-five piasters 
 say seven hundred, omitting what you have bor 
 rowed of uncle James and me. That's not so 
 very bad after all. What is there to sell besides 
 the phaeton and the horses ? " 
 
 " There's the piano, and my books," suggested 
 Tremaine. 
 
 "'No, don't part with them," said McAboy. 
 " They neither eat nor drink, and you would part 
 with them at a great sacrifice. Though you will 
 never be able to play on the piano, Xanthine will, 
 and it will help to furnish your house. The books 
 ditto. You won't read them, but she will, and 
 
YOUNG GOTHAM HOLDS A COUNCIL. 217 
 
 may be the time will come " glancing at Tom, in 
 a peculiar way "when she'll need them." 
 
 By a close calculation it was found that the 
 curricle and bays would fetch enough to pay off 
 all Tom's debts, except those to his uncle and 
 cousin, the former of which would arrange itself 
 in time, and for the latter, Donald said, laughing, 
 I will make your wife a present of the I. O. U. on 
 her wedding-day. But you must show what you 
 can do in the way of industry and economy in ad 
 vance, Tom. Let us see you save the first quarter's 
 income, (as you can easily do,) and working like 
 a beaver to make it as large as possible : then, and 
 not till then, shall we know whether this $1,200 is 
 a fact or a mere figure on paper." 
 
 " I am so dashed unused to industry and econo 
 my fine words hard things ! " quoth Tom. 
 
 " It all depends on how much you love Xan- 
 thine," returned his cousin. 
 
 At that Tom swore he would do it. He loved 
 Xanthe to distraction. He would work ; he would 
 save. 
 
 " You'll never marry Xanthe unless you do, if 
 I can prevent it," said Donald, resolutely, tapping 
 the table with his pencil. " If, on the contrary, you 
 can achieve such a conquest over your own indo- 
 
 10 
 
218 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 lence and habits of expense, I engage that you 
 shall marry her." 
 
 The young men discussed the matter more at 
 length, and Tremaine gave the strongest promises. 
 McAboy undertook to communicate Tom's affairs 
 and resolutions to Mr. Blake the next day, when 
 he made his own formal proposals: for he was 
 afraid Tremaine would spoil his own cause, and he 
 perceived that their causes were closely connected. 
 He considered that Tom should not seek an inter 
 view with Mr. Blake, to demand Xanthe's hand, 
 until he had settled the debts. 
 
 " I will send the carriage and bays to Cattlestall's 
 to-morrow," Tom said, quite inspired. "There is a 
 sale at 12 o'clock." 
 
 " That's lucky," said Donald. " Depend upon 
 it, it will make a good impression when the old 
 man hears that you have begun by selling your 
 horses. 5 ' 
 
 But as we have seen, in pleading his own 
 cause, McAboy forgot to say a good word for 
 Tom. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 IN WHICH THE STORY ADVANCES SOME FURTHER. 
 
 IT was a more difficult thing for our friend Tom 
 to dispose of his phaeton and bays to advantage 
 than any one not used to these transactions would 
 suppose. Still he was determined to sell ; it was 
 cutting off an expense anyhow ; and to the hammer 
 they went, at Cattlestalfes, that very morning, and 
 although they brought scarcely half what he had 
 given for them, (and the carriage was every whit 
 as good as new,) it was enough to pay the stable 
 bill, and leave something handsome over. With a 
 cheque for $200 in his pocket, Tremaine felt as if 
 he had just come to an estate, when, had he con 
 sidered that his remaining liabilities, all counted, 
 footed up nearly thrice that sum, he might have 
 found reason to consider himself yet a pauper. 
 Waxing confident, then, by the possession of so 
 much money, he resolved first to draw it, and then 
 
220 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 proceed to Ruby street, and face the father of 
 Xanthine. As his bad fortune would have it, he 
 missed Donald, who had just come away, (McAboy 
 passed the bank while Tom was pocketing his bank 
 notes inside,) and came upon Mr. Blake at a mo 
 ment when the latter was meditating, not in the 
 most contented frame of mind, on the result of 
 their interview. Mr. Blake was fretted, and per 
 haps Tom himself was at the bottom of his uneasi 
 ness, so that he was by no means in a favorable dis 
 position to hear what the young man had to say. 
 Nor was Tremaine's manner of accosting the 
 subject calculated to propitiate Patrick Blake, 
 Esq., Sen. 
 
 " The puppy strutted in," said Mr. Blake, " in 
 the most pompous stoile, as if he had the whole 
 Bank of England in his briches pocket, and address 
 ing me with a complacent smoile, requisted the 
 favor of a few minutes' private conversation ; and 
 says he, ' Misther Blake, I believe I've the honor 
 sir,' says he, ' to heve wan the affections of yer 
 daughter, Miss Xanthine Blake.' ' An' if ye have ? ' 
 says I, eyein' the feller not in the most compleemen- 
 tary manner. c An' if ye have, sir ? ' ' Thin,' says 
 he, ' I 've the honor to ask your permission to pay 
 her my addresses.' ' Sir,' says I, ' any one that 
 was not a dashed rascal would have asked that 
 
 
IN WHICH THE STORY ADVANCES. 221 
 
 quistion first. I wish you good mornin', Misther 
 Tremaine.' And with that I turned me back on 
 the feller, and I saw in the glass door of the count 
 ing-room that he stood for a minute by the fire as 
 if he'd been struck stupid, and then he turned too 
 on his heel and strutted out of the store as he came. 
 Such a proud, extravagant, supercilious popinjay 
 as that to be comin' to ask my permission to pay 
 his addresses to my daughter ! I'm glad I settled 
 him." 
 
 Such was, indeed, an over-true account of the 
 vulgar, ill-bred way in which Mr. Blake, senior, 
 received the proposition that Mr. Thomas Tremaine 
 made him for the hand of his younger daughter. 
 And if any one remarked that Mr. Blake behaved 
 like a " vulgarian," I shall be obliged to admit it, 
 and for that matter, I observed to him not long 
 after, in speaking of it, that to this brusque and 
 cutting response of his to a proposal for which 
 thanks, at least verbal ones, were due, was owing, 
 in a great degree, the unpleasant turn which the 
 matter took subsequently, and which Mr. Blake 
 had great reason to regret. 
 
 For Tom did not fail to obtain an interview 
 with Xanthine, and represented to her very faith 
 fully all that had occurred, not forgetting to lay 
 particular stress on the sale of his carriage and 
 
 
222 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 horses, with a view to the adoption of a new mode 
 of life, and as a pledge of the industry and economy 
 he was about to practise, as her suitor and her hus 
 band, the very morning on which he had been so 
 insulted. And Xanthe's indignation at such un 
 worthy treatment of her lover, was naturally much 
 heightened by her knowledge of the very different 
 manner in which her father had behaved towards 
 Donald, more particularly shown in his conveying 
 a letter from the latter to her sister Melanie. This 
 cruel difference made between them excited every 
 natural feeling of resentment, of course ; the rather 
 because she considered that she had been far less to 
 blame than Mel, inasmuch as she had not concealed 
 the fact of Tremaine's suit a single day or hour, 
 after she was herself entitled to be aware of it. In 
 short, it is easy to imagine that Xanthine for a hun 
 dred reasons, some of which were pretty good ones, 
 thought herself very hardly, very unfairly, and very 
 partially used. 
 
 Tremaine could not visit the Blakes, it is need 
 less to observe, after the rude and, as he said, " the 
 ungentlemanly " treatment he had experienced 
 from papa Blake. There were no more visits either, 
 on the part of the young ladies to McAboy's stu 
 dio, and Madam Blake, to ensure that their morii- 
 ing-walks should not offer an opportunity of meet- 
 
 
IN WHICH THE STORY ADVANCES. 223 
 
 ing and conversing, on the famous Blooming- Way, 
 made some excuse to be their companion on those 
 occasions. Not that Melanie or Xanthine would 
 have abused the confidence reposed in them, but 
 in fact, if two young ladies should meet two young 
 gentlemen of their acquaintance in the Blooming- 
 Way of a morning, say when they were shopping, 
 could they prevent the young gentlemen turning 
 about and walking beside them, or following them 
 into shops say Lawn &> Cachemire's thronged 
 and almost illimitable saloons, or the beautiful 
 show-rooms of Messrs. Agate and Silberwaaren, 
 dealers in fancy-goods and jewelry? It is quite 
 evident that in such circumstances the presence of 
 mamma would relieve the best disposed daughters 
 of a painful responsibility, perhaps of a rosy em 
 barrassment. Indeed we must do our friends Xan 
 thine and Melanie the justice to say, that they 
 found their mother's company a real relief, by ren 
 dering impossible those meetings and conversa 
 tions which they felt bound in conscience to re 
 fuse, but which they would have experienced a 
 great difficulty on the part of their own inclinations 
 in resisting, those inclinations being all the other 
 way. 
 
 Moreover Donald McAboy was obliged in hon 
 or, by a tacit engagement to papa Blake, not to 
 
224 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 seek any further intercourse with Melanie till after 
 the close of the penitential season. But it was not 
 so with Tremaine, and Tom, I must say, left no 
 means untried to snatch a moment's talk with Xan- 
 thine, or at least to exchange with her some silent 
 token of remembrance and regard. The principal 
 occasions which he made use of for this laudable 
 purpose, were the religious services held during 
 these two weeks, especially in the evening, and 
 which both the sisters faithfully attended. Great 
 were the crowds that gathered in the venerable 
 church of St. Pet r us to hear Father Rowman's fer 
 vent instructions, two evenings in the week. The 
 excellent pastor never appeared to greater advan 
 tage than on these occasions. The apathetic man 
 ner which distinguished his ordinary address was 
 transformed into fire and unction when he expati 
 ated on the sufferings of his Master, and all the la 
 tent ardor of his soul broke forth when he dwelt 
 on the sympathetic dolors of the Virgin without 
 spot, when he described the unsullied yet ardent 
 and impetuous John, reposing tranquilly on the 
 breast of his Lord, and drew from every picture 
 traced by his lips, a lesson that came home to every 
 heart. Xanthine and Melanie in their father's 
 crowded pew, listened with breathless attention, 
 and while they learned to contemn their own petty 
 
IN VVHJJI1 THJi STORY ADVANCES. 225 
 
 griefs, sighed also for the purity and chastity of 
 soul and body which the spotless Lamb of God 
 chose to find in all who were intimately united with 
 Himself on earth. 
 
 But when the congregation poured out of the 
 church, it was difficult for a family party to keep 
 together ; it was natural that a young lady should 
 get separated from her friends in the rude pushing 
 that took place in the densely packed aisle, where 
 every one was eager to reach the open air before 
 the rest, (we speak now of the vulgar mass of the 
 audience,) and then it would chance that a tall, 
 well-dressed young Gothamite gave Miss Xanthine 
 his arm, and aided her to avoid being crushed under 
 foot, or at least prevented that fate happening to 
 her shawl. It was unavoidable under these circum 
 stances that the young lady exchanged some words 
 with her protector, being in fact an intimate ac 
 quaintance, and if she fell in (I'll suppose) with 
 some party of friends going the same way, and, 
 having lost her papa and mamma, went on home 
 wards with them, in the close column that occupied 
 the sidewalk, that the said acquaintance should walk 
 on by her side : and between St. Petrus and Santa- 
 klaus-square it is wonderful what a prodigious inter 
 change of sentiment and of interesting facts could 
 
 take place, when both parties were willing to trade 
 10* 
 
 
226 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 in those commodities, and neither was disposed to 
 stand disputing over the relative value of what they 
 gave and received in such a barter. 
 
 I only state these things by way of hypothesis, 
 for I am ignorant how the facts stood, except on 
 one occasion when I happened myself to walk home 
 behind Miss Xanthine Blake, who, as well as her 
 sister, was mixed with a party of young people of 
 both sexes, and I know for a certainty that Tom 
 Tremaine, in a sort of mysterious toggery a half 
 disguise McAboy's plaid wrapped round the up 
 per part of his figure, and a navy relief -cap drawn 
 over his eyes, never quitted her side the whole way, 
 and Xanthe's tongue (usually glib enough) kept 
 time with her feet, which moved but slowly, and I 
 could not hear a word she said, she spoke so low 
 a most unusual thing to be remarked in Xanthine 
 Blake. 
 
 In the mean time as the sorrowful season drew 
 to a close, and that of sacred joy approached daily, 
 and at last hourly nearer, both our young friends 
 were invited, partly by a rule of their religion and 
 partly by a habit of their family, and no doubt by 
 their own pious desire, to a very confidential in 
 terview with their pastor, in which all such pecca 
 dilloes as we have hinted at, (if such they were,) 
 all failures of filial duty, indulgence of unauthor- 
 
IN WHICH THE STORY ADVANCES. 227 
 
 ized or disapproved affections, and in one case at 
 least, the intention of joining in perpetual and holy 
 wedlock with a person who acknowledged no such 
 obligations, had to be avowed and submitted for 
 advice, reproof, and (we suppose) authoritative 
 judgment this kind of recourse to a secret, im 
 partial tribunal of conduct and intentions, being 
 peculiar to the way of thinking in which Melanie 
 and Xanthine had been brought up. Perhaps in 
 their lives it had never cost them so severe an in 
 ward conflict, and yet I have heard them say that 
 they never were more anxious to go through with 
 it, hard as it was. The obligation of secrecy be 
 ing all on one side, and the girls themselves at per 
 fect liberty to tell all that passed, I learned after 
 wards as much of these interviews as they at least 
 thought fit to discover. If there was any thing 
 that they had no mind to make public, no doubt 
 they had the discretion to keep it safe enough. 
 But what I heard from them was as follows : 
 
 Miss Melanie Blake got soundly lectured on this 
 occasion for her long concealment of Mr. Don 
 ald McAboy's suit from her parents, whereby mat 
 ters had gradually proceeded so far, that an affec 
 tion which might easily have been nipped in the 
 bud, was now grown into such an absorbing passion 
 that it would hardly permit the voice of prudence 
 
228 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 and religion to be heard against it, while so much 
 encouragement on all sides had been given to the 
 young man, that it was doubtful whether justice 
 did not require the fulfilment of the implied prom 
 ises already given, and certainly they could not be 
 withdrawn without great hardship. And yet it 
 was better to suffer pain, or even to inflict it, how 
 ever keen it might be for the time, than to risk 
 Melanie's faith, her principles, her happiness in this 
 world, or the next, by a union which in plain terms, 
 Sancta Mater ecclesia, her infallible and yet 
 most tender guide, disapproved and abhorred. 
 This made Melanie cry very much, for she could 
 not have believed that Father Rowman would be 
 so severe upon the project so dear to her heart, 
 and she told him, she said, that it was just a ques 
 tion with her of marrying Donald or not at all. Not 
 merely that she had never seen any one before 
 whom she could or would marry, and never ex 
 pected to, in future, but, in short, she had never 
 before had an offer of marriage, although she was 
 near one and twenty, and it was not likely she 
 would ever have another, (which Father Rowman 
 thought a very unlikely supposition, but Melanie 
 insisted on it,) and really she had never believed 
 that she was called to a single life. It was her vo 
 cation, she sincerely believed, to be married, and 
 
IN WHICH THE STORY ADVANCES. 229 
 
 she could never fulfil it except with one person ; 
 which I am apt to think made her counsellor smile, 
 in spite of the grave circumstances, or perhaps 
 sigh ; for no one else can judge the sentiments of 
 a pastor in observing these little manifestations of 
 our human facility of self-deception. At all events 
 the upshot of it was that Melanie was left to de 
 cide for herself what she would do, for Father 
 Rowrnan would neither forbid her to marry McA- 
 boy, nor take the responsibility (which she would 
 have been glad to lay upon him) of authorizing 
 or advising it ; only he said at last, and Melanie 
 eagerly caught at it, that he hoped " it would be 
 overruled for the best." So Melanie Blake got 
 her absolution, I take it, and made her Easter, and 
 some few days after I know for certainty that my 
 friend McAboy resumed his visits to Santaklaus 
 square, and it was very soon understood among 
 us that he was engaged to be married to the eldest 
 of the Blake girls. 
 
 We have seen how Xanthine's affaire du cceur 
 met with a cruel reception from her family ; her 
 father was obstinately stern and implacable with 
 her ; never before had he shown himself proof 
 against her wheedling and filial caresses ; a dark, 
 scowling brow he wore day after day, like cross 
 papas in romantic novels, towards his beloved and 
 
230 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 favorite child. And even her mother was silent, 
 not daring to encourage Xanthine, (for her father 
 forbade it,) and thinking it unwise to sympathize 
 with her. Her brothers were awkward and re 
 served ; Harry alone, who was under the shadow 
 of her disgrace, from his former intimacy with 
 Tremaine, showed her a rough kindness that made 
 her feel more her isolation from the rest. Nay 
 the unkindest cut of all even Melanie, who cer 
 tainly ought in these circumstances to have con 
 soled her with all sisterly tenderness, could not 
 refrain, when Xanthine complained of the inequal 
 ity of the treatment they received, from pointing 
 out that the difference was founded on the superi 
 ority of her Donald's character over Tremaine's ; 
 while Xanthine warmly retorted, and bitterly be 
 lieved, that it was far more the superior prosperity 
 of McAboy's finances. " If Tom had a fine flour 
 ishing practice," cried she, " and was going to have 
 a great deal of money some of these days from his 
 uncle James, papa would like him as well as Don 
 ald." 
 
 So it was in a very discouraged and apprehen 
 sive state of mind that Xanthe went to take her 
 place in the curtained box, one of whose three 
 compartments contained Father Rowman, and with 
 a heart quite sinking, and yet throbbing to suffo- 
 
IN WHICH THE STORY ADVANCES. 231 
 
 cation, that she heard the little wooden slide with 
 drawn, that being withdrawn, left only a certain 
 grating between her and his listening ear. But 
 Xanthine met with more indulgence in that court 
 than Melanie, to believe her own story, which I see 
 no reason to doubt. Father Rowman never re 
 proved her at all. Perhaps it was because, of all 
 wherein he judged her in fault, she accused herself 
 so penitently. Indeed, he rather exonerated her 
 of blame in some points where she was ready to 
 condemn herself. She was not bound to know, he 
 observed, what were the intentions of a young man, 
 or rather she was bound to be ignorant of them, 
 until they were plainly declared either to herself 
 or to her parents ; and since the youth in this case 
 had chosen her as the channel, she had acquitted 
 herself of every obligation by imparting the mat 
 ter immediately to her natural protectors ; a step 
 for which he commended her with a warmth that 
 caused Xanthine's tears to flow as freely as her 
 sister's, but from a different cause. In short he 
 gave a great deal of most excellent advice, Xanthe 
 said, and especially this, that being pledged to her 
 lover only on the condition of her parents" consent, 
 and that consent having been refused, she was now 
 perfectly free, and by no means should she think 
 of making any other promise, unless, since the 
 
232 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 young man in question was but a nominal Negative, 
 he should renounce that erroneous persuasion alto 
 gether and profess the Positive faith. And Xan- 
 thine, who was quite penetrated with gratitude, 
 and full of good dispositions, readily promised to 
 follow this counsel to the letter, and went away 
 from this dreaded interview infinitely consoled. 
 So great a difference there is between the point of 
 view of the best papas and mammas, and that 
 which is found to be taken in that mysteriously 
 curtained box, and behind that little grating. 
 
 I found afterwards that the difference did not 
 end here, for Father Rowman's point of view sub 
 sequently turned out quite different from that of 
 most or any papas and mammas, in a way that I 
 scarcely expected. " Fathers and mothers," said 
 he, when I demanded an explanation of this pecu 
 liarity, " are charged by Providence with the care 
 of their children's worldly prospects, and nature 
 itself teaches them to be prudent for them in that 
 respect, and so it. easily happens that dangers which 
 affect only their souls do not receive much atten 
 tion or are quite overlooked. But even if they are 
 ever so anxious on that point, they are not entitled 
 to penetrate the deepest secrets of their children's 
 hearts, and so they are no judges whether they are 
 in any spiritual danger or no ; whence it is not 
 
IN WHICH THE STORY ADVANCES. 233 
 
 surprising that their conclusions are different from 
 ours, to whom all is exposed in the most sacred 
 confidence. Our advice is based on a knowledge 
 of which the child keeps the key, and would not 
 turn it perhaps for the most tender and trusted 
 parent that ever lived ; and it has but one purpose, 
 that of preserving the child always in a state of 
 grace, while the parent has quite other ends in 
 view, and either thinks little of this, or entirely 
 disregards it." 
 
 Father Rowman said this after Melanie and 
 Xanthine both but I anticipate. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 PREPARATIONS FOR THE WEDDING. 
 
 THE time was past when McAboy thought of 
 taking a bride like Melanie Blake to his attic, to 
 work and love together as young artists in Paris 
 live with the class of lorettes, substituting only the 
 sacred bond of marriage for the temporary one of 
 pleasure and convenience. He might have been 
 right in his idea, as a matter of principle, for surely 
 a great deal of unhappiness, and wickedness too, 
 springs in this world from people's false notions of 
 what is necessary in their style of living. But 
 prosperity had brought with it other ideas. It was 
 now needful to pay respect to opinion, and so great 
 a concession as he found Melanie and her family 
 were making in her marrying a Negative, required 
 that every other arrangement on his part should 
 be strictly according to rule. Usage directed a 
 tour immediately after a wedding for all well-bred 
 
PREPARATIONS FOR THE WEDDING. 235 
 
 couples, so McAboy's marriage had to be deferred 
 at least till he could command leisure for this ne 
 cessary sequel of it, that is, till he had completed 
 his commissions, or those which were pressing, and 
 had finished his sitters. In other words, it was 
 needful to wait till other people began to quit 
 Gotham for summer travel or watering-places. 
 " We must wait for the villegiatura^ said Donald, 
 
 gayly. 
 
 Melanie was willing enough to wait : she had 
 as much as she could do anyhow, to get ready for 
 the important change as a well-bred bride should. 
 Indeed, I have often noticed that many a girl is 
 very eager to be married, and very determined to 
 be married, who, when the compact is formed, is 
 not less very reluctant to fix the day. 
 
 Then, again, there was the question of after the 
 tour what should they do when they came back ? 
 The usage of Gotham warranted young people of 
 their, condition in boarding for a year or two, but 
 to this Donald was resolutely and wisely averse. 
 He preferred the Parisian garret, with the wife's 
 own little menage, however humble it might be, to 
 the most fashionably splendid boarding-house in 
 Gotham. Neither would he take a room at his 
 father-in-law's, as Mrs. Blake advised, " until they 
 could look about them." As the season for rent- 
 
236 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 ing houses was at hand, he proposed to take one 
 and furnish it at once against their return from the 
 tour. His uncle James offered him one at a low 
 rate, in a new street he had built, and which he 
 wished to fill with a superior class of tenants. 
 Then McAboy with hereditary astuteness offered 
 to buy, and on his uncle's asking (he thought) too 
 much, resolved to buy at all events, but of some 
 body else. Mr. Blake confirmed him in this notion. 
 Donald had some thousands in bank, or would have 
 shortly ; quite enough to pay down ; and the re 
 mainder could stand on bond and mortgage ; he 
 might as well pay the rent in the shape of interest 
 as in any other, and the inevitable rise in the 
 property would then be his own gain. McAboy 
 took Melanie to see a number of houses, and at 
 last they found one that appeared to suit her ; but 
 their ideas had risen so much in the process of 
 house-hunting, that Mr. Blake pronounced the 
 price more than Donald could yet afford to give. 
 It was a third more than that of the house his 
 uncle James had offered him ; but then it was in a 
 situation already fashionable, and of easy, agreeable 
 access. It was, indeed, in Crayon street, just off 
 Mount Yernon square, of whose young trees it 
 commanded a view. It was three-storied, marble- 
 stepped, marble-mantled to the very topmost story, 
 
PREPARATIONS FOR THE WEDDING. 237 
 
 with baths and gas and " every modern conve 
 nience," besides having a brick stable in the rear, 
 to which McAboy already talked of adding a story, 
 to serve as a studio. The thing was susceptible of 
 being made quite perfect ; and as for the rent, or 
 interest, why he " should give up his rooms on the 
 Blooming- Way, of course, and that alone would 
 save all the difference." 
 
 There is nothing like striking when the iron is 
 hot. The price of this house was $10,000 ; of 
 which $7,000 could be raised on a mortgage. The 
 brokers who sold it offered to lend that amount on 
 it. It was necessary, however, to pay $3,000 in 
 cash, and McAboy had only some $1,700 in hand. 
 Then Mr. Blake, seeing that he was resolved on the 
 purchase, and thinking it a good investment at all 
 events, promptly told his future son-in-law to draw 
 upon him for what he needed to complete the bar 
 gain. McAboy calculated that by the first of July, 
 when he could be ready to leave town, he should 
 be in funds to repay Mr. Blake, and have enough 
 over to make him easy about current expenses. 
 As for furnishing the new house, Melanie's father 
 had said from the first day it was mentioned, that 
 if they concluded to go to housekeeping imme 
 diately, he would do that for Melanie, and charge 
 it to her portion. 
 
238 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 It would appear that this project was only 
 agitated in order to show how willing Mr. Blake 
 was to do any thing for Melanie and McAboy, and 
 how cordially he entered into the project of their 
 union, bating the one objection to which he now 
 seldom alluded. For while they were all full of 
 the house, another question arose. What should 
 be the direction of the wedding tour ? 
 
 The celebrated Oceanic falls, so called from the 
 immense body of water which there rushes over a 
 tremendous precipice, and the neighboring royal 
 province of Nova Gallia, were a favorite pro 
 gramme. Donald's patron, Mr. De Grotius, ad 
 vised him, if he adopted this route, to wind up by 
 coming down the Lake of the Verdant Mountains, 
 and that of St. Sacrament, and to pay a visit to the 
 wild regions lying about Lake Pheasant and Big 
 Buck, where he would shoot deer and catch trout 
 to his heart's content, enjoying at the same time a 
 scenery, then almost unknown to artists, and of 
 great splendor. 
 
 " But if I were you," said Mr. De Grotius, who 
 was anxious about McAboy's fame, and disliked to 
 see him, seduced by a temporary success, plunge 
 into the vortex of fashionable portraiture, the only 
 branch of art which could sustain the expenses 
 Donald meditated, " if I were you, I would go 
 abroad at once." 
 
PREPARATIONS FOR THE WEDDING. 239 
 
 McAboy had already thought of this plan. As 
 we have observed, by the end of June, after get 
 ting through with certain commissions and finishing 
 all his portraits for the season, he would have some 
 thousands on hand, and he had commissions to the 
 amount of as many more, which it would take a 
 year of leisure worthily to execute. What better 
 time, then, could he seize for another trip abroad, 
 to show Europe to his young wife, to enjoy their 
 first year of marriage together there, and, while 
 refreshing his recollections of old art, to heighten 
 rather than diminish his reputation at home. Then 
 he would execute his commissions so much more 
 satisfactorily abroad with so much more tran 
 quillity, and yet with so much more fervor. There 
 was one in particular which Mr. De Grotius talked 
 of giving him, but which he had rather declined, 
 because he did not feel able to undertake it in 
 Gotham, to which in any art-capital of the old 
 world he could apply himself with enthusiasm. 
 McAboy was not long in deciding on a project 
 when once he had deliberately entertained it. He 
 found by inward experience that the artist is essen 
 tially (as some one has said) of the great Gipsy 
 tribe of the world ; he belongs to the " Grande 
 JZoheme / " wandering is his natural vocation, and 
 there is something in houses and lands, and espe- 
 
240 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 cially in town lots, naturally unpropitious to his 
 free development. He reasoned about it with his 
 intended and her family, and found in the former 
 at least a flattered and eager response to his ideas. 
 In short, the element of romance is necessarily the 
 strongest in an artist, and to spend his first w T edded 
 year roving over the classic countries of the civil 
 ized world, amid the vast repositories of art and 
 the finest scenes of nature, was too fascinating an 
 idea to be relinquished. The idea of property and 
 of amassing must necessarily yield to it. It was 
 agreed that housekeeping, and house-purchasing 
 should be deferred till they came back, and that 
 immediately upon their marriage, McAboy and 
 Melanie should go abroad, to remain a year. 
 
 It was charming in those days to hear Melanie 
 discourse of these plans : you would have thought 
 that the development and future fame of a Michael 
 Angelo or a Raphael, at the very least, were at 
 stake upon their decision, with so pretty an im 
 portance did she detail the various motives which 
 conducted to it. This sort of egotism that mag 
 nifies the doings and interests of another self, in 
 which their own is lost, is peculiar to women. 
 They are more difficult to be cured of it, than men 
 of their coarser selfishness, which a certain tact 
 leads the latter to hide, and a higher principle, we 
 
PREPARATIONS FOR THE WEDDING. 241 
 
 hope, sometimes succeeds in suppressing. Conjugal 
 and maternal selfishness is so like a virtue, so sweet 
 and amiable in its own eyes, so pardonable in the 
 eyes of others, that it scarcely cares to disguise 
 itself, wins an easy and pretty constant victory 
 over good-breeding, and is almost proof against 
 grace. 
 
 11 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 TOM'S CONVERSION. 
 
 ABOUT three months then were to elapse be 
 tween the engagement and the marriage of Me- 
 lanie : in the mean time, what of poor Xanthe ? 
 Let us own that her case is a hard one, to witness 
 her sister's full cup of happiness preparing, while 
 her own has been rudely dashed to the ground. 
 Her father already treats Donald as a son-in-law, 
 while Tom is not even received as a visitor at the 
 house. The name of the one is on every domestic 
 lip, while that of the other is proscribed. Trous 
 seaux, and houses, and furniture, and wedding 
 tours and foreign travel are talked of for the elder 
 sister, while the younger must not so much as hint 
 at a modest anticipation of some future destiny for 
 herself. We must not forget, however, that she 
 enjoys a consolation which Melanie has not, in that 
 she has no misgivings of conscience, which is more 
 
TOM'S CONVERSION. 243 
 
 than Melanie can say. We have before mentioned 
 Xanthine's poetical turn, and the following, which 
 was found among her papers, and bears date in the 
 spring of that year, appears to express her feelings 
 at this time : 
 
 " Ah me ! thy wound, my heart ' must helpless prove, 
 
 Which others' joy so causeless makes to bleed ! 
 Their wealth would never hurt thy happy love, 
 Which being hapless, learns this envious greed. 
 
 " Ungoverned heart ! persuade thyself indeed, 
 In others' joy to find not desperate harms; 
 Let not that bliss thy jealous anger feed 
 
 Which never keeps thy loved one from thy arms. 
 
 " Oh, heart ! repine not for that 'tis decreed 
 By others' will to cheat thee of thy love, 
 Since thou hast promised for a heav'nly meed, 
 Thy wildest wishes shall not thither rove. 
 
 " Ah, since thy will with theirs all one is found, 
 Let not their joy re-ope thy secret wound." 
 
 While Xanthine thus lamented and consoled 
 herself in secret, she had not the misery of think 
 ing Tom unworthy of her, but indeed quite the 
 reverse. All that she heard of his new efforts (and 
 she heard only the creditable part) endeared him 
 to her the more. As we have already seen, Tre- 
 maine's business, provided he attended to it in per- 
 
244 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 son, netted him enough to be happy upon (as 
 McAboy observed) with Xanthine, in those times, 
 and enough for a young man in business, with 
 Tom's friends and prospects, to marry upon pru 
 dently. To attend to it was, indeed, to work hard, 
 but who, in the outset of life, beginning with 
 nothing, has not to work hard ? Tom's partner, 
 Bradley Alford, of as good family as Thomas 
 McAboy Tremaine, Esq., and a fellow of splendid 
 talents to-boot, worked hard, as Tom observed, 
 u devilish hard." He would not have won so early 
 in life, or ever, the distinction he afterwards did, 
 had he not worked " devilish hard." Genius and 
 hard work are the two factors of eminence and ol 
 fame ; and without genius, with respectable talents 
 such as Tremaine had, with a winning exterior and 
 a fair start in life, hard work was still the essential 
 requisite to the enjoyment of an honorable happi 
 ness in youth, and an easy fortune in the coming 
 manhood and age. But is it possible for a Tom 
 Tremaine, an insect of a day, to quit his butterfly 
 existence, roving from flower to flower in the par 
 terre of society, rifling 'and consuming their sweets, 
 and enter upon that of the industrious, foreseeing 
 and hiving bee ? 
 
 Tom tried it. He dismissed his clerk, who 
 already paid more attention to his own pleasures 
 
TOM'S CONVERSION. 245 
 
 than to Tremaine's business so that Alford ener 
 getically complained of it, and gave his morning 
 hours to his office. True he generally arrived there 
 at least an hour later, and departed, worn out, (he 
 said,) at least an hour earlier than his indefatigable 
 partner; and as, if a willing horse and a lazy one 
 are harnessed in the same carriage, no amount of 
 whipping will get out of the latter his fair share 
 of work, and consequently the willing one must 
 make it up, so Alford was forced to supply Tom's 
 deficiencies, (for the reputation of the office,) and 
 he did it more contentedly for Tremaine, whom he 
 liked and rather petted, than for Tremaine's negli 
 gent clerk. 
 
 The chief danger to our friend's steadiness in 
 this new path was the evening. It is a season of 
 the year that is peculiarly perilous to unoccupied 
 young men, in the way of billiards, and of other 
 amusements less indifferent in themselves, which 
 are always at hand in a great city. The dissipations 
 of society renewed themselves after Easter, the 
 more fervently as the advancing season would soon 
 close them ; and gayeties prolonged into the small 
 hours of the night were a bad preparation for 
 punctuality and industry on the morrow. Alford, 
 who had his family and who loved literature, and 
 aspired to its honors as well as to those of his pro- 
 
246 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 fession, could hardly comprehend Tremaine's diffi 
 culty. He was accustomed to amuse himself with 
 his wife and babies till their bedtime, sit up a 
 couple of hours more, reading or writing, arid yet 
 be in his office, fresh as a lark, before nine the next 
 morning. Mr. McAboy gave three evenings of 
 the work-day week to the Blakes, either in society 
 with them, or at some place of amusement, or 
 oftener still, reading or hearing Melnnie read, from 
 some book connected with art or artists, which he 
 had introduced to their notice. The new element 
 of refinement and elegant culture which he thus 
 infused into the family was very noticeable, and 
 they all enjoyed it exceedingly. Tremaine had 
 no wife or babies, no taste for literature except 
 of a sort that was far from improving, and he 
 was cut off from the social evenings at the Blakes, 
 which would Irave elevated and sustained him, as 
 we may well suppose. 
 
 " Work at home," Donald said. " Make up for 
 lost time. Read up your law." 
 
 Tom tried this, too, for he was really in earnest 
 about making something, and every fresh effort 
 gave him pluck for another. He actually read 
 himself to sleep two evenings over "Kenstone's 
 Commentaries." On the third, he treated resolu 
 tion with a game of billiards, where he won his 
 
TOM'S CONVERSION. 247 
 
 drinks, and the day following saw him late at the 
 office. His partner greeted him with a grave 
 countenance. An important case was coming on, 
 and some papers that should have been re-engrossed 
 
 stared him in the face on his table. " it," 
 
 said Tom, " copying law-papers is such an infernal 
 bore." " So is all work," said Alford drily. " If I 
 was married like you," said Tom, " I'd be regular 
 
 as a clock, but what the (dickens) is a fellow 
 
 like me to do with his evenings ? " " Copy law- 
 papers, till he can do better," said Alford. " Well," 
 
 said Tom, penitently, " I'll be d if I don't copy 
 
 these to-night." It must be owned that Tremaine's 
 case seems hard, in his being deprived of Xanthine's 
 society and the prospect of being united to her, at 
 the very time when he was making such exertions 
 for the sake of both. But this is the order of 
 things here below, which requires us to sow for a 
 future harvest, to plough, to labor, to lay out time 
 and money, not for immediate returns, but in hope. 
 He who is not willing, or who lacks the persevering 
 courage, to submit to this condition, shall surely 
 see the fields of his neighbor in harvest-time waving 
 with a golden and full-eared crop, while his own 
 are overrun with weeds and thistles. That was 
 just the difference of situation at this moment be 
 tween Tremaine and McAboy. 
 
248 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 There was, indeed, an obstacle in Tom's way, 
 which Donald did not experience. Xanthine let 
 him know in one of their first post-paschal inter 
 views, with a weeping resolution, that she had de 
 termined not to marry a Negative, or, at any rate, 
 one whom her parents disapproved. She could not 
 disobey her Father in heaven and her father on 
 earth, at the same time, nor fly in the face of the 
 mother who bore her and Holy Mother Church at 
 once. If dear Tom only believed as she did about 
 such things, three of these four parties at least 
 would be on her side, and when she came of age, 
 which would be in two years, she would have him, 
 if she had to run away. Here it must be observed 
 that it was Tremaine who had suggested the last 
 mode of overcoming their difficulties. Xanthine 
 repelled it warmly, but she softened her refusal by 
 the above hypothetical declaration, which set Tom, 
 as I believe, upon a new track. 
 
 It will be perceived (we have already said so 
 once or twice) that Tremaine had become extreme 
 ly eager in this pursuit. It is what happens in 
 every chase in proportion as we are engaged in it, 
 whether it be of a runaway debtor or slave, or wife 
 or daughter, or of some game that we never had 
 possession of, such as a deer, or fox, or trout, or an 
 office in the gift of the people or of the President, 
 
TOM'S CONVERSION. 249 
 
 or a maiden that we woo as a bride. As long as 
 there is a hope of obtaining the prize, the more ex 
 ertion we have made, the more we are willing to 
 make ; and time, health, life, fortune, fame and 
 honor are often sacrificed to win what, when won, 
 we scarcely value. But when the game is really 
 valuable, and we are within an ace, as it were, of 
 winning it, and our experience, or our sanguine 
 disposition convinces us that success is possible by 
 dint of perseverance, then the ardor we feel is pro- 
 portionably increased, and obstacles only feed the 
 flame of our impetuous desires. Such was precise 
 ly ,the case with Tremaine in respect to our Xan- 
 thine. She was a lovely young girl, gracious and 
 lovable ; and endued with such a mixture of vi 
 vacity and tenderness, of simplicity and wit, of 
 honest susceptibility and genuine talent, as made 
 her grow upon acquaintance, and command grad 
 ually as much respect as love, even from a Tom 
 Tremaine. Their intercourse as lovers had taught 
 him, too, to appreciate the delicacy and firmness 
 of her principles, notwithstanding her Celtic ardor 
 and frankness, so different from the calculating 
 coldness of the young Yengeese ladies of his fash 
 ionable circle on the one hand, and from the self- 
 compromising behavior which, on the other, he 
 was familiar with in less refined classes. And Tom 
 11* 
 
250 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 being of a pliant nature, that took its coloring from 
 its associates, (Tom called it tact and high-breed 
 ing,) his conduct towards Xanthine was so respect 
 ful yet so tender, that she thought and declared 
 him one of the most honorable and high-minded 
 young fellows that ever lived every way equal in 
 that respect to Donald McAboy although the 
 ladies, and young ladies too, had done their best 
 to spoil him. And this again reacted upon Tre- 
 maine, who not only began to think that he was 
 really a fine character, but loved Xanthine so much 
 the more for being the occasion of his entertaining 
 this improved opinion of himself. 
 
 Tom also thought, or fancied he thought, the 
 rather because it was McAboy's opinion, who ex 
 pressed it bluntly, that the religious faith of these 
 sisters, however erroneous it might be, was at the 
 bottom of their excellencies. And though this ad 
 mission was not much for a man like McAboy to 
 make, whose views were clear and tenaciously held, 
 with Tremaine, who had no intellectual difficulties, 
 it might lead very far. 
 
 Tom was anxious to remove the new and unfore 
 seen obstacle on Xanthine's own part, entirely out 
 of the way. For this purpose, he could devise 
 nothing better than to try the effect of his eloquence 
 on Father Rowman. Imagine that astute, thorough- 
 
TOM'S CONVERSION. 251 
 
 ly educated ecclesiastic, completely armed with 
 theoretic knowledge, discernment of character and 
 self-discipline, engaged in a contest of wills and in 
 telligence with a Tom Tremaine ! Tom would be 
 very likely to succumb, you think ? True, in 
 some points he would. And yet Father Rowman 
 (for I knew him well) was a remarkably easy man. 
 He must have been so, or he would not have allow 
 ed himself to be persuaded by one or two inter 
 views with Mr. Tremaine that the latter was, or 
 might be, considered, in fact, a Positive. Tom in 
 sisted that he was not, in any sense, a Negative. 
 He belonged to no Negative communion ; the 
 only rite that bound him to a religious belief, had 
 made him, according to Father Rowman's own con 
 victions, a Positive. He was a Positive, then, by 
 birth, nor had he Father Rowman himself in 
 geniously supplied the argument ever apostatized 
 by professing any other faith. As far as he knew 
 any thing of the Positive creed, Tom averred, he ac 
 cepted it ; he might be reckoned, at worst, as a bad 
 and ill-instructed Positive, who, as matters stood, 
 must be suffered to count as one. 
 
 So far, the pastor of the Blakes was easy 
 enough ; too easy, some may think, and I own 
 that if I were a Positive, I should be of their opin 
 ion ; but then came a point where he was obliged 
 
252 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 to be unyielding. A Positive and Negative could 
 b^ married by dispensation, and in that case 
 nothing would be required of the latter beyond 
 certain promises, but any one who came to be mar 
 ried in the character of a Positive must submit to 
 the regulations for that case made and provided. 
 It was here that the conflict between our friend 
 Tom and his spiritual adversary was to be disputed, 
 here the victory w r as to be decided. I cannot 
 speak from positive knowledge, but it is my belief 
 that Tremaine went a great deal further than truth 
 warranted in the profession of Positivism, in his 
 eagerness to obtain the consent of Xanthine's spirit 
 ual guide. I would not be sure, I say, that partly 
 under the influence of his passion, swelled by all 
 the aggravating circumstances I have indicated, 
 and partly under that of a fit of penitence which 
 just then seized Tremaine for all the errors of his 
 bachelor life, I would not be sure, although the 
 fruit was so transient, and he kept it so secret that 
 I cannot affirm, that he did not actually enter 
 Father Rowman's mysterious box himself, and ful 
 fil all the duties of a good Positive, which that pru 
 dent though indulgent pastor deemed it right to 
 permit him. This part of Tremaine's history is, 
 however, wrapped up in a little cloud of mystery 
 that I have never been able wholly to penetrate. 
 
TOM'S CONVERSION. 253 
 
 I only have my suspicions founded on what after 
 wards occurred, and on a positive statement of 
 McAboy's, that " Tom," as he expressed it, " had 
 gone the whole figure ! " By which I at the time 
 understood him to mean what I have above inti 
 mated,- that his cousin had reconciled the religious 
 difficulty by formally apostatizing from Negativism. 
 If even this were so, we must not, however, judge 
 Tom too severely. He may have been sincere. 
 I do not think, as I have said, that of dogma he 
 had an idea. We cannot see into the heart, and 
 there have been conversions apparently no better 
 motived than his, which have proved unalterably 
 persistent, and have given in an edifying change 
 of life the best proof of their genuineness. And 
 although Tremaine's case breaks down in this last 
 point, I must do him the justice to say, that in all 
 his subsequent life, however little to be commended 
 in some respects, he has invariably played the part 
 of what is called a non-practical Positive ; if asked, 
 or if the subject is brought upon the tapis, he 
 always says in his smiling, confident way, " I am a 
 Positive, though I confess, a very bad one ; " while 
 Father Rowman decisively sa}s, when the case is 
 mentioned, "Tremaine is a Positive. If he were 
 at the point of death to-morrow, he would send for 
 me ; I know that he would." That I think is quite 
 
254 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 likely, and good Positives will of course hope that 
 Heaven may grant him the opportunity. 
 
 It is to be observed that all this did not occur 
 at once ; nor, until near upon the time set for Me- 
 lanie's wedding, was all that I have above intimated 
 brought to pass. Acccordingly I find among Xan- 
 thine's papers, the following apparent allusion to it, 
 which, though it has no date, must be ascribed 
 from internal evidence to the month of June of 
 that year. 
 
 " Put off, my heart, thine over-credulous joy ; 
 
 Mine eyes, no more with such glad moisture shine ; 
 And show thyself, mine hand ! more maiden coy, 
 Nor press so warmly one that is not mine. 
 
 " Shall that new faith thy faithless owes to Heaven, 
 
 Inspire such rapture in thy hidden seat, 
 That throb on throb that needs to be forgiven 
 
 Should there, with transports all too human, beat ? 
 
 " Let heav'nly love put out those earthly fires, 
 
 Let thankful prayers that tender tumult quell : 
 Thy lover now to love divine aspires, 
 
 With love divine, 0, throbbing bosom, swell. 
 
 " But what ? Thou cans't not lose thy human part ? 
 Then throb all human if thou must my heart ! " 
 
 It seems a thousand pities that all this talent and 
 feeling should have been wasted on a fellow like 
 
TOM'S CONVERSION. 255 
 
 Tom Tremaine, who resembled, indeed, those mar 
 ble gods of Greece exteriorly most divine in as 
 pect, but internally destitute of life and divinity. 
 And I am apt to think that if Mr. P. Blake, sen., 
 had chanced to light upon these verses of his 
 daughter's, as he did upon certain others that the 
 gentle reader remembers, he would have shut her 
 up ; and if, in his ignorance of what is called poetic 
 license, he understood literally all the glowing ex 
 pressions of Xanth's sonnets, he would perhaps be 
 justifiable. But where the girl got her style, is 
 the thing that puzzles me. Her free access to, and 
 constant ferreting in the poetic stores of her 
 father's richly-lined book-case, among all those gilt 
 calf-backs, and clearly-printed antique leaves of the 
 British classics, might, as her mother hinted, partly 
 account for it. But there must have been an im 
 petuous and sparkling fountain of fancy and feeling 
 gushing up in that hidden nook of her girlhood, 
 hidden by the roses of smiling youth to suggest 
 such a flood of sentiments, to flow so freely forth in 
 that quaint old borrowed style. 
 
 It is plain, we think, that she took Tom's con 
 version, both moral and speculative, for a genuine 
 work, (and so, perhaps it was, though not lasting,) 
 and that such a belief must have helped wonder 
 fully in that divinizing process which the heart of 
 
256 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 woman so easily applies to the object that has suc 
 ceeded in filling the vacant niche in its inner tem 
 ple, which she has always been persuaded, and 
 rightfully, was intended by the builder for a god. 
 There she instals the image of clay, and crowns it 
 with ambrosial flowers, and offers it triumphantly 
 the sweet incense of her affections. 
 
 "A little part and that the worst he sees," 
 
 who ascribes to the meaner part of our nature the 
 fervid exaltation of woman's love, in its first pro 
 fuse and unwise prodigality, like Xanthine's. It 
 is the bewilderment of a divine instinct : the mis 
 direction of a faculty whose true object is worthy 
 of all the devotion that she offers to an idol. 
 
 Indeed it is evident from the swiftness of the 
 water and the foam and noise when it encounters an 
 obstacle, that we are nearing the falls we spoke of, 
 where the wild and rock-bedded stream leaps bold 
 ly and brightly over the dizzy cliff into the basin 
 below. A part of the double torrent has been 
 withdrawn into a calmer channel wrought by art, 
 where it will feed (say) an over-shot mill-wheel, use 
 ful as well as ornamental object in the exquisite 
 landscape, but the remainder will find its own way, 
 which God and nature have shown it, to the ap 
 pointed level of the fair country whither it so rest 
 lessly tends. 
 
TOM'S CONVERSION. 257 
 
 Early in June, when the Blake family went to 
 Red Fort for the summer, Xanthine made another 
 effort, through her mother, to overcome her papa's 
 objections to Tremaine. Never was papa more ob 
 stinate than Mr. Blake. 
 
 " But my dear Patrick," urged the maternal in 
 tercessor, " Xanthine says that Mr. Tremaine is now 
 a true Positive, not yet formally so, but only wait 
 ing a proper time to take the decisive step, and 
 perfectly convinced." 
 
 " I don't care a dash what he is," growled, most 
 profanely, Mr. Blake ; " no Tom Tremaine shall 
 iver marry a daughter of mine with my consint. 
 I'd think you'd seen enough of Tom Tremaines, 
 Mrs. Blake, but it seems you'll never be contint 
 till you've got one, any how." 
 
 " Now that is a very unkind remark, Pat," said 
 Mrs. Blake, blushing, for there was just a shade of 
 truth in this jealous observation, as to the cause of 
 her partiality for Xanthine's suitor. " I should be 
 very sorry if Xanthine's happiness must be sacri 
 ficed, without any reason, merely because you were 
 jealous of the gentleman's father. 5 ' 
 
 " Because the gentleman's father was a scamp, 
 ma'am, and the son is the moral and personal picter 
 of him," retorted Mr. Blake. 
 
 " Indeed you've no right to say so, Patrick," 
 
258 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 replied his wife, in a grieved tone. " If Mr. Tre- 
 maine's father ever behaved dishonourably towards 
 me, you are the last person who ought to complain, 
 as you profited by it." 
 
 "I own that, ma'am; I've profited to have my 
 daughter running after his son, bejingo." 
 
 " I shall not notice that unjust aspersion upon 
 Xanthine's modesty," said the mother, crimsoning 
 indignantly. " But as for young Mr. Tremaine, he 
 has never deserted Xanthine, or played her false in 
 any way, and he might (every one knows) have 
 had his pick among the richest girls in Gotham this 
 winter. There was Virginia Randolph was crazy 
 for him, and she has eighty thousand dollars all her 
 own. Your favorite Mr. McAboy, his cousin, says 
 that Miss Randolph was certainly in love with Tom. 
 Everybody allows that Mr. Tremaine has wonderful 
 ly changed his habits since he knew Xanthe. He 
 was never dissipated, but now he has become strict 
 ly attentive to business, and they are getting a great 
 deal of it." 
 
 " Yes, yes," groaned Mr. Blake, " that bright 
 lad, Alford, is the working horse. Tom Tremaine 
 is jist a drag on the concern." 
 
 " You will never believe any good of him, on 
 account of his name, Patrick, and that I call an un 
 christian prejudice. Especially, if he is really, as I 
 
TOM'S CONVERSION. 259 
 
 believe, and as Father Rowman himself believes, 
 (for I don't trust Xanthine,) if he is really convert 
 ed to our faith, it is our duty to take him by the 
 hand and encourage him in his new path." 
 
 " Now if he's going to turn his coat, I think 
 worse of him than I did before. What does he 
 hope to get, I wonder ? Xanthe had better think 
 of Pat McDonough, or some other honest fellow 
 who has no need to deny his religion to get her 
 money, and as for Misther Thomas Tremaine, I'd 
 advise him to look after Miss Randolph's money 
 bags, for he'll never have the fingerin' of mine, and 
 I'll send him word of that same this very day." 
 
 This threat Mr. Blake carried into effect by pen 
 ning a note to Tremaine, not precisely insulting, 
 for it was meant to be civil, (civil with a shocking 
 qualification, used by Mr. Blake in characterizing it,) 
 in which he was given to understand that if he took 
 Xanthine, it would be without a penny, and not one 
 cent (same shocking epithet applied to this hypothet 
 ical coin) would Mr. Patrick Blake give her if she 
 married Mr. Thomas Tremaine. This was in a man 
 ner, I think, to tell Mr. Tremaine that he might, if 
 
 he liked, run away with Xanthine and be hem ! 
 
 Heaven forbid that I should imitate the profane vul 
 garity of Xanthine's father ! 
 
 Mr. Blake undoubtedly supposed that by this 
 
260 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 threat he would effectually deter Torn from pro 
 ceeding further in his^uit. But there he reckoned 
 surely without his host. For in the first place, men 
 in these cases are not often as good as their word. 
 Men are placable beings, and fathers above all. A 
 resolution that they ought never to have made, 
 though guarded by many asseverations, they often 
 find good motives afterwards to break. They re 
 lent, they blame themselves for their harshness, 
 they atone for it by humbly undoing what they did 
 proudly. Then again, without losing any of his 
 laudable intentions, Mr. Blake might fail to carry 
 them into effect. He might die intestate, when 
 Xanthine would get her legal share of his property, 
 whatever it was. People die intestate every day 
 who certainly never intended to do so, sometimes 
 to the annoyance and sometimes to the great joy 
 of their heirs. Or, again, he might execute a very 
 precise will, cutting off Xanthine without the first 
 red cent, and for want of some unlucky formality 
 the will not be admitted to probate, when the heirs- 
 at-law would take. Or again, which often happens, 
 if the will were contested, the court might break it 
 on account of its injustice. No one knew better 
 than a young lawyer who had often had small cases 
 in the Surrogate's Court, how to appreciate all 
 these chances. And lastly, in affairs de matrimonio 
 
TOM'S CONVERSION. 261 
 
 conlrahendo, such as this was, it is not safe to reck 
 on only on the cupidity of the parties their love, 
 their pride, their honor, their anger, and their sense 
 of duty and justice, may induce them to persevere 
 in their plans, against the plainest dictates of pecu 
 niary interest. Tremaine showed her father's note 
 to Xan thine, and urged her for the first time boldly 
 and almost prevailingly, to fly with him from such 
 injustice and scorn, to let him show that it was for 
 her anc^not for her father's money that he cared. 
 
 Perhaps you will ask how he so readily obtained 
 these interviews. In Gotham it was by no means 
 difficult, or rather, unless there were a duenna vig 
 ilance which could scarcely be possible, and which 
 would have been the height of impolicy in that 
 land of liberty whereof we write, it was easy and 
 necessary to meet. In the thronged Blooming- 
 Way, in the beautiful walks of Santaklaus square, 
 under the very windows of Mr. Blake's mansion, 
 on the Mt. Yernon parade where nurses and chil 
 dren congregate, amid the crowd of little short- 
 frocked girls trundling their tall hoops along the 
 gravelled alleys, at the Exhibition of the Gotham 
 Academy, in short everywhere, not excepting the 
 Sunday walk home after church young people 
 who desired it, contrived to happen together, and 
 without clandestinity, under the eyes of their elders 
 
262 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 or companions, held such communication as they 
 thought fit. 
 
 But when the Blake girls were both at Red 
 Fort, where Tremaine could not visit, and where it 
 would not look well for him to be hanging about, 
 watching for an interview, the thing was more dif 
 ficult. But then the difficulty added, we need not 
 say, to the piquancy, and stimulated the romance 
 of Xanthine's disposition. Tom came up in the 
 afternoon by the steamboat after office hours, and 
 visited the Red Fort in the warm June evening in 
 a light skiff, with oar or sail. Xanthine, attended 
 by Melanie, (who was persuaded to pity their case, 
 and who feared the consequences of a refusal, should 
 Xanthe take it into her head to go alone,) met Tre 
 maine in the enceinture of the Fort, and once, 
 McAboy being with them, just to discuss the mat 
 ter, all took a sail together on the moonlit river. 
 McAboy was urgent that Tom should give up this 
 stolen intercourse with Xanthine, which Melanie, 
 too, declared was very improper and all wrong, and 
 that they must both report it, unless it were given up. 
 
 " What will you do," said Melanie to her sister, 
 " when we are married and gone to Europe ? " 
 
 " We shall get married, too," said Xanthine, 
 firmly, " for there is no other way that we can 
 meet then/' 
 
TOM'S CONVERSION. 263 
 
 Donald wished to take Xanthine to Europe with 
 them, and her father was extremely favorable to 
 the project, but Xanthe herself steadily refused, 
 divining the purpose too clearly, which was to sep 
 arate her from Tremaine. 
 
 At length the happy day arrived for the wed 
 ding of McAboy and Melanie. They all came 
 down from Red Fort to Gotham a few days before. 
 On a fine summer morning, in the drawing-room 
 of Mrs. Blake's house in Santaklaus square, looking 
 out upon the umbrageous and flower-besprinkled 
 park, were forever sealed the vows which they had 
 first exchanged when those fine old trees were 
 leafless and those flower-beds ice-bound and naked. 
 The square was filled with carriages, for the bride 
 received her friends at the same time. All the 
 Blake and Bailey connection, whether by blood or 
 business, and all the McAboys and their following. 
 The wealthiest of the latter, and the proudest, 
 were glad to afficher (as the French say) their rela 
 tionship to the distinguished young artist, who was 
 regarded as one of the illustrations of his country. 
 He had wedded the daughter of an eminent mer 
 chant head of the wealthy and well-known firm 
 of " BLAKE AND SONS, formerly Bailey & Co." 
 connected by marriage and business succession with 
 the old commercial aristocracy of the venerable 
 
264 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 burgher city of Gotham. The blood of the McA- 
 boys of Mull, and their famous coat of " a Scotch 
 mull proper, quartered with a cigar-case ouvert, 
 between, Or, two foils or leaves, demi-twisted, of 
 the Virginia weed," were not disgraced by this al 
 liance, for the ancient burghers of Gotham are 
 the nobility of the New World, and the Blakes 
 themselves were undoubtedly descended (which of 
 their country-folk is not ?) from dethroned Celtic 
 kings. 
 
 Father Rowman performed the ceremony, 
 marked by a nude brevity, directed by his Church 
 on such occasions. Sprucely attired in a well-made 
 and rather lengthy black frock-coat, with his snowy 
 shirt-collar neatly turned over his black silk neck 
 cloth, (both of a somewhat peculiar fashion,) he 
 simply inquired, without book, if they took each 
 other for husband and wife, and promised mutual 
 fidelity till death, when, being answered in the 
 affirmative, he pronounced them man and wife and 
 wished them every happiness. Melanie turned pale 
 at this abrupt conclusion, although she expected it, 
 and Donald, warned by the ever-ready Xanthine, 
 who asked him in a loud whisper, " Where's the 
 ring?" mechanically placed the ring upon his 
 wife's finger. The lively hubbub of congratulation 
 which followed, the tearful embraces of her rela- 
 
TOM'S CONVERSION. 265 
 
 tions, and smiling ones of her young comrades of 
 the maiden throng she had quitted, made Melanie 
 forget the unblessed ring, and persuaded her of 
 what she almost doubted, that she was really mar 
 ried. Xanthine, by the way, was among the live 
 liest, and apparently the happiest of those present 
 on this auspicious occasion. During all the later 
 preparations for Mel's bridal her spirits had been 
 good, but now they overflowed. She was one of 
 the bridesmaids, of course, for Melanie had three, 
 and though they were all pretty and with equal 
 advantages of dress, it could not be denied that 
 Xanthe was upon the whole the most attractive in 
 the luxuriant softness and bloom of her youth. 
 
 Tremaine, too, was present as Donald's cousin, 
 although he had not crossed the Blakes' threshold 
 before, since the day papa Blake so rudely repelled 
 his proposal for Xanthine. Tremaine was there, a 
 little reserved and punctilious towards the rest of 
 the family, but fraternal to Melanie, with an air of 
 intelligence and confidence for her sister. Tom, 
 indeed, was one of the groomsmen, (by Melanie's 
 particular request,) assisted by Charlie Lynch, and 
 young Hobart Bailey, Melanie's cousin, (these forms 
 were kept up in such families,) and Tom never ap 
 peared to greater advantage than on this occasion ; 
 his leading up a young lady and introducing her to 
 12 
 
266 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 the bride was really a charming affair, and I don't 
 know how many of the introduced fell in love with 
 him that morning. If Xanthe herself had not lost 
 her heart to him before, she vo\ved that she would 
 have lost it then, and I've no doubt she spoke the 
 truth. He was a handsome puppy, was Tremaine 
 in those days : and his fine figure, graceful carriage, 
 classic features and perfect moustache, played the 
 very mischief with the hearts of the ladies, at least 
 of those who were of an age or of a disposition to 
 be so far dazzled with these external attractions as 
 to look no further. 
 
 The interest of the reception was much in 
 creased by the fact that the happy pair were going 
 to sail immediately for the Old World, and not a 
 little also by some of Donald's finest recent pic 
 tures, not yet sent home, being carelessly disposed 
 about the drawing-rooms. In this it may be that 
 the canny artist, 
 
 " True to the fountain whence he drew his blood," 
 
 had an eye to business as well as to the gratification 
 of his friends, and if so, he was successful, for a 
 rich banker, a friend of Mr. Blake, sen., who as 
 pired to the honors of art-patronage, after looking 
 at the picture McAboy had just finished for Mr. 
 De Grotius, gave him the largest commission he 
 
TOM'S CONVERSION. 267 
 
 had yet received, leaving subject, canvas and style 
 to himself. 
 
 The reception, however, came to an end at last, 
 and indeed few assemblies are more frightfully 
 rapid in their course than that which greets a new- 
 made bride. Melanie retired to change her dress. 
 It was really surprising, as everybody said, how 
 well she had stood the fatigue and excitement. 
 Perfectly dressed, snowy blossoms crowning her 
 dark hair, she looked like a young queen, so bravely 
 she bore herself. And now she must lay aside her 
 silvery robe and sparkling veil, and put on a grave 
 but pretty travelling dress. At five o'clock they 
 start by the eastern boat for Shawmut, (before 
 mentioned, I think, as the capital of the State of 
 Massasoit,) where the next morning they take the 
 ocean steamer for Europe. The family generally 
 took leave of her in Gotham, but her father and 
 mother, and sister Xanthine, accompanied the new 
 married pair to Shawmut, to see them off. McA- 
 boy again, half in jest, half in earnest, urged 
 Xanthine to pack up her bundle and go with them, 
 promising to buy her a complete outfit, the moment 
 they landed on the other side, and she laughingly 
 replied that she " would not go with them for the 
 world." 
 
 The steamboat, then, bore our wedding-party, 
 
268 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 as it has so many others, along the beautiful Flume 
 Oriente which washes the eastern shore of the 
 island on which Gotham stands, and into the deep 
 sound of Isola Lunga. At the city of Foresight 
 they took the cars during the night for Shawmut, 
 and at noon precisely on the following day, the 
 great paddles of the Oceanica began to revolve, 
 and removed the artist and his bride from their 
 native land. 
 
 Our thoughts remain behind, with those whose 
 nuptial fate is yet, but not long, in the balance. 
 For but a day or two after the return of the Blakes 
 to Red Fort, Xanthine having been left in Gotham 
 (for the house was never entirely closed) to attend 
 to some affairs for Melanie, at the daybreak rite 
 in old St. Petrus, few, and those chiefly of the 
 laboring class, being present, before the altar Fa 
 ther Rowman united a couple in marriage, and 
 offered for them subsequently the sacrifice, called 
 for the bridegroom and the bride. It was Tre- 
 maine and Xanthine, (to my unbounded astonish 
 ment,) with a couple of witnesses only, the chival 
 rous Charley Lynch being one, and the other Tom's 
 cousin, Lola Tremaine, (her mother is a beautiful 
 and wealthy Creole from the queenly island of An- 
 tilla, the gem of the southern seas.) My astonish 
 ment was unbounded, I say, especially to see in the 
 
TOM'S CONVERSION. 269 
 
 midst of the holiest rite of the true Positive faith, 
 the altar gate thrown open for Tremaine and 
 Xanthine to enter, (Xanthine in virgin white and 
 the simplest veil,) and kneel within the rails on the 
 lowest step, while splendid and priestly Father 
 Rowman, in rich sacerdotal vestments, turning, 
 blessed them with long and high-sounding prayers, 
 in the presence of all that his creed adores as most 
 holy. When they rose and turned to resume their 
 places outside the rail I observed that Tremaine 
 was white as a sheet, while Xanthine's face was all 
 of a cherubic bloom. I could not but watch eager 
 ly for the very sacred and interesting part of the 
 ceremony that followed, and I own was a little dis 
 appointed, and yet somehow relieved, to see that 
 Tom did not partake in it, though Xanthine 
 and Lola Tremaine (as devout an Espagnole as 
 ever counted her beads) did. In the vestry after 
 wards, where they were signing papers, (and by 
 the way, I witnessed them, too,) I overheard 
 Xanthine tenderly scolding Tom for his thought 
 lessness in breaking his fast, " I suppose," said 
 she, in her saucy way, " you wanted nerve for this 
 trying occasion, and so you must needs fly to that 
 bachelor cupboard and take a glass of wine to for 
 tify you : fie ! fie ! " Then her voice sunk to a 
 
270 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 whisper, and I could only distinguish, in a sort of 
 consoling tone " another time." 
 
 Aye ! Xanthe, another time ! 
 
 There is a time for all things under the sun, and 
 now is the time of life and youth, for thee and thy 
 mate. 
 
 Close by the Church of St. Petrus stood a fa 
 mous hotel, where breakfast was already waiting 
 for the new married pair in a private parlor. Tre- 
 maine politely invited me to partake of it. Xanth- 
 ine in an adjacent room exchanged the bridal white, 
 which she would wear on this momentous occasion, 
 for her gray travelling dress, and joined us. She 
 was rather gay quite herself in manner but ate, 
 naturally, a slender portion. By the time she had 
 swallowed half a cup of coffee, the head waiter 
 came in to announce that the first bell of the 
 steamboat was ringing. It was the morning boat 
 up the Hendrick. The pier was at the foot of the 
 street, the carriage at the door, their baggage was 
 put on, and, shawl in hand, kissing Lola Tremaine, 
 Xanthine soon sprang in. They were going to 
 Red Fort, to throw themselves at the feet of papa 
 and mamma Blake, and implore their forgiveness 
 for the step they had taken. 
 
 You may imagine that old Blake was excessive 
 ly enraged just at first. I believe he was, but all 
 
TOM'S CONVERSION. 271 
 
 he said was, as I understand, in a tremulous old 
 man's tone 
 
 " Well, it's no use crying over spilt milk. 
 You've gone and got married to Mr. Tremaine, 
 Xantli, an' I hope that he'll make ye a good hus 
 band. Ye might have asked us to the weddin' 
 though, Xanth." 
 
 " I'd have been very glad to do it," cried Xan- 
 the, throwing her arms around his neck and hug 
 ging him in the most bewitching manner, " but I 
 was dreadfully afraid, papa, that there wouldn't 
 have been any wedding, if I had." 
 
 " Ye'll never get a cint of my money, I tell 
 yon, fool as much as you like," said the old man, 
 obdurately. 
 
 " And many a long day may it be before 
 anybody '11 be for havin' it but yourself," cries 
 Xanthe, with the sweetest brogue imitation in the 
 world. 
 
 " And why would you go to break my heart, 
 thin, with marryin' that " said old Blake, soft 
 ened, but did not finish the sentence, for Xanthe 
 stopped his mouth with kisses. 
 
 Could a mere mortal resist her wheedling and 
 caresses '? I think not. Meanwhile, Tremaine was 
 " coming it," to use his own expression, "over the 
 old ladv." Mrs. Blake either was or affected to 
 
272 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 be more implacable at first than her husband, per 
 haps because she had not been admitted to the 
 secret, and had been deprived of the pleasure 
 (which a woman could hardly forgive) of witness 
 ing the ceremony ; but Xanthe soon made up for 
 that by the vivacity of her details. In short, Mr. 
 and Mrs. Tremaine were allowed and invited to 
 stay to an early dinner, and Xanthine finished 
 packing her trunk. At the last, indeed, there was 
 weeping and reluctance to let them go. Old Blake 
 shed a savage tear or two when the steamboat bell 
 was heard. Towards sunset, about the same hour 
 as when we first saw the sisters on the parapet of 
 the old fort, the passing steamboat touched at the 
 pier above, where a flag gayly flying invited its ap 
 proach, and the second pair of wedded mates from 
 that peaceful cote took their flight on their nuptial 
 journey, on the journey of life. 
 
 I should here observe, for fear of forgetting it, 
 that a coolness followed between the Blakes and 
 their pastor, which lasted for many a long year 
 on Mr. Patrick Blake's side. Father Rowman, 
 however, always maintained that he had done 
 simply his duty, by granting what he had no 
 right to refuse, and that the banns had even been 
 published at St. Petrus, which the law at that 
 time did not require, nor the canon either. For 
 
TOM'S CONVERSION. 273 
 
 my part, I always told Blake that I thought he 
 had only himself to blame, for after allowing 
 Melanie to marry McAboy, he could not re 
 fuse his consent to the union of Tremaine and 
 Xanthine. 
 
 12* 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE WEDDING TOUR. 
 
 " ALL tragedies," says the poet, " are ended by 
 a death ; all comedies are ended by a marriage." 
 If this then be a comedy, here it ought to end : 
 both the heroines being married to the two heroes 
 par nobile fratrum which means (the unlearned 
 reader is informed) that McAboy and Tremaine are 
 a noble pair of brothers. But as this is neither 
 exactly a comedy nor yet a tragedy, but rather a 
 true story under fictitious names and semblances, 
 with the gentle reader's permission I shall pursue 
 it a little further, in search of our moral, which so 
 far is not very evident. It may be that I shall not 
 find it after all, or not succeed in making it appa 
 rent, in which case the gentle reader must con 
 struct a moral for himself out of the pictures of 
 life that the story presents, where truth, like a 
 bitter pill nobody likes, is sugared over with fiction 
 
THE WEDDING TOUR. 275 
 
 to make it go down, or he may consider that the 
 various reflections with which the writer accom 
 panies the thread of the narrative, are intended to 
 serve in a moral's stead. 
 
 Xanthine and Tremaine, then, are started on 
 their wedding tour. Xanthine had gained what 
 most girls think the great object of their existence : 
 she was married ; her life belonged to another ; 
 she had lost her self-ownership ; the one, exclusive, 
 sovereign right, which belongs wholly to herself, 
 and which is all that most unmarried women pos 
 sess, she had ceded. Whether she had made a 
 good bargain, had been paid off with counterfeit 
 money, or good current coin of the realm, bright 
 with the sovereign's image and full weight, re 
 mained to be seen. 
 
 And speaking of money, I must mention that 
 Tremaine was supplied with funds for this expe 
 dition by the proceeds of the semi-annual balance 
 struck in the office, after the bills had been col 
 lected. The business had been better than- usual ; 
 Tremaine's share was about $500, which, after pay 
 ing one or two pressing debts, left him upwards of 
 $350 for travelling expenses, and Tom calculated 
 that by judicious stoppage at certain interesting 
 points, about six weeks the utmost time he could 
 be absent might be very agreeably spent, without 
 
276 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 exhausting that sum to the last penny. In the 
 new world a maid, or female attendant, was a lux 
 ury not necessary to a lady's position ; they were 
 but two, and travelling was cheap ; hotels a little 
 dear, but that item must be counted on. Tom 
 figured away industriously on letter-backs and 
 cards, to demonstrate that he was amply supplied, 
 and formed a regular programme for the distri 
 bution of his funds to the various expenses of the 
 wedding trip. 
 
 One of the inconveniences of the beaten path of 
 travel they were taking, (for economy's sake, as w r ell 
 as for the superior accommodations it afforded,) 
 was that, Tremaine being so well known in the gay 
 world, they were perpetually meeting his acquaint 
 ance. The very first evening, on the state-room 
 deck of the superb Aquatica a new boat as Tom 
 and Xanthine were sitting on the side, outside the 
 saloon, (for it was a lovely July evening, and the sun 
 not set,) watching the lofty shores of the Hendrick, 
 and the wide, glittering waters they enclosed, like 
 an inland lake, the Langfords came upon them of a 
 sudden, and greeted Tom with animation, eyeing 
 from head to foot his youthful companion. The 
 Misses Langford were delighted to encounter so fa 
 mous a beau, took for granted he was going to Con 
 gress Spa, and that he would be at the hotel of the 
 
THE WEDDING TOUR. 277 
 
 " United Confederacy," for all the world was there, 
 with lots of eligible Southrons, and waltzing officers 
 and so on, as Rose St. Clair had written to her de 
 voted chum, the youngest Miss Langford. Tom 
 himself was the chief of all the eligibles as a part 
 ner, or for a flirtation, and, in a fair degree, for mat 
 rimony, on the score of his wealthy connections 
 and rich bachelor uncle, (next to his person, always 
 his best card,) and like the war-horse that neighs at 
 the sound of the trumpet, Tom's social vanity was 
 excited by the familiar appeal, and he could scarcely 
 bear to dash all these delightful anticipations to the 
 ground by avowing himself a married man. The 
 Langford s plainly took Xanthine for a young lady 
 with whom Mr. Tremaine was flirting, apart from 
 her papa and mamma, or other accompanying 
 friends, nor did he undeceive them, but rattled away 
 about Congress Spa and other topics, till they pass 
 ed on, promising to meet again. But when, the 
 sun having ceased to glitter among the tree tops of 
 the Highlands, and dusk having drawn its fine, clear 
 curtain over the Hendrick, the waiter announced 
 that the supper-table was ready for the ladies, and 
 Tremaine took his bride down, and Xanthine gave 
 him her bonnet and shawl to throw into a berth, 
 and they sat down together at the brilliantly light 
 ed table (magnificent with silver branches and paint- 
 
278 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 ed porcelain, and a supper for a king,) the Lang- 
 fords, who happened to be opposite, saw that the 
 young lady was under Tremaine's protection any 
 how ; and when Xanthine bared her plump, white 
 hands, and the plain, golden circlet, adorning the 
 ring-finger of the left, which Father Rowman had 
 blessed 'the morn,' became visible to the Misses 
 Langford's curious eyes, the truth began dimly to 
 dawn upon them in the form of an hypothesis. But 
 still it might be a married cousin, or something of 
 that sort, and surely must be, for it was not possi 
 ble that Mr. T. Tremaine could be engaged, (let 
 alone married,) and they, the Langfords, not know 
 it ! Of course no improper supposition occurred to 
 them for a moment ; for besides that such things are 
 rare, Xanthine, though shamefaced and a little con. 
 strained, looked innocence itself; and her neat, 
 gray travelling dress, with its Avhite linen collar, 
 the youthful tresses, a very wealth of tawny bur 
 nished gold, bound in the most approved girlish 
 braid, the downcast blue eyes and bright blush, (as 
 she seated herself by Tremaine,) the very sparing 
 meal so daintily partaken of, proclaimed the bride. 
 In short, when the Langfords, papa and all, except 
 a beautiful matron who seemed not to know him, 
 had renewed the conversation with Tremaine across 
 the table, the young ladies (for the Gothamites are 
 
THE WEDDING TOUK. 279 
 
 less ceremonious when they travel than the inhabi 
 tants of Londra are,) addressed some remarks to 
 his lady companion ; and Xanthine replied, with her 
 native frankness, which the winter's experience of 
 society had refined into polished ease, as much as it 
 became a young girl to exhibit towards strangers ; 
 and Tom was so pleased with it and with the im 
 pression he saw it had made, that he seized the op 
 portunity, and, bending forward to the Misses Lang- 
 ford, introduced Xanthine. The very surprise ex 
 torted the inquiry how long Mr. Tremaine had 
 been married, and Tom answering that that very 
 day had madj him the happiest of men, the young 
 ladies could not help a little shout, that roused the 
 whole table of four or five hundred persons, and 
 made Mrs. Thomas Tremaine's cheek redder than 
 the finest rose in her father's garden. 
 
 " You didn't see us come aboard at Red Fort ?" 
 inquired Tom, dexterously heading off further in 
 terrogatories. 
 
 " No, indeed ! " cried the Langfords. 
 
 " Mrs. Tremaine's father has a place there," he 
 observed " you can see it from the water a stone 
 house with a white piazza, and a garden leading to 
 the Fort you remember it, I dare say. Mr. Lang- 
 ford knows Mr. Blake, I presume," addressing the 
 young ladies' papa : " it is the firm of ' Blake & 
 
280 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 Sons,' Ruby street, formerly ''Bailey <& (70.'" 
 Tom laid a slight stress on the last name. 
 
 " Oh, I remember," said Mr. L. " Know him 
 very well old Pat (excuse me, madam) Mr. Pat 
 rick Blake extensive importer monstrous rich, 
 I believe." 
 
 " My cousin, Donald McAboy, the artist," said 
 Tom, " married Mrs. Tremaine's sister a few days 
 ago, and sailed immediately for Europe with his 
 bride." 
 
 The Misses Langford had heard all about that. 
 It was a very brilliant wedding, they had under 
 stood ; Santaklaus square full of carriages. " Janet 
 McAboy was a bridesmaid, you know, girls. And 
 so, Mr. Trernaine, you have gone " 
 
 " And married the other sister, who was also 
 bridesmaid on that interesting occasion," said Tom, 
 good-humoredly. 
 
 All protested that they were delighted to make 
 Mrs. Tremaine's acquaintance, and accordingly, af 
 ter supper, the party re-united on the state-room 
 deck, and the Misses Langford, with a tall, slim, 
 handsome youth in a short shooting-jacket and 
 with an astonishing wide neckcloth, whom they 
 called brother, surrounded Xanthine, and over 
 whelmed her with polite attention. We under 
 stand, of course, that Xanthe would have been 
 
THE WEDDING TOUR. 281 
 
 most glad to be unobserved and unnoticed, to have 
 passed as a stranger in the huge crowd, unless her 
 mother or Melanie could have been there to break 
 the solitude which Tremaine's companionship per 
 haps rendered more strange and agitating. Yet 
 the Misses Langford were very agreeable, and as 
 familiar as possible, while the member of their 
 party with whom Tremaine was previously unac 
 quainted, and its matron, too, aunt-in-lavv of the 
 young ladies, was more than familiar and agree 
 able positively and almost maternally kind. This 
 lady, whose name was also Langford, was a native 
 of Mrs. Blake's native island, as her exquisite ac 
 cent and refined mode of speaking declared, for 
 she belonged to its highest class. She might be 
 five and thirty, was a widow, it seemed, though she 
 wore no weeds, with a beautiful little girl of ten 
 or twelve at her side, like a bud and a rose on one 
 stem, and the simile was never more appropriate. 
 Mrs. Langford was a beauty without any figure of 
 speech, one of the rare instances of unblemished 
 female loveliness. She had the rose and lily com 
 plexion of the North, the raven hair and liquid 
 black eyes of Spain, the grand, harmonious features 
 of Greece or Circassia, the form of the fabled Juno 
 in the ripe, unalterable bloom of her immortality. 
 Xanthme had seen many elegant women the past 
 
282 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 winter, but never so splendid a specimen of her 
 sex as this lovely native of her ancestral isle. Mrs. 
 Langford's manners were as faultless as her person, 
 and even her simple travelling habit displayed the 
 perfection of her taste in dress, indication of that 
 love of pleasing without which woman would cease 
 to please. 
 
 This she was when in repose, but her finest 
 charm was in movement, when she discovered all 
 the poetry of motion, to rivet the fascination of 
 the beholder. She stepped like a queen on the 
 steamboat-deck, so that involuntarily every one 
 turned to look at her. As the poet says 
 
 " Grace was in all her steps, 
 In every gesture dignity and love." 
 
 And withal there was a glow about her, a 
 warmth of feeling, a womanly quickness of appre 
 hension and sympathy, in which Xanthine recog 
 nized the Celt. She was capable of sarcasm, too, 
 this perfectly organized and accomplished creature, 
 and Xanthe quickly perceived that she regarded 
 her nieces as a kind of amiable and well-dressed 
 barbarians. She seemed at once to comprehend 
 Xanthine from some superior stand-point of her 
 own, and by a few words won her way into the 
 young bride's artless confidence. These kind la- 
 
THE WEDDING TOUR. 283 
 
 dies, in short, took possession of young Mrs. Tre- 
 maine, and having sent the whiskerandos of the 
 party, of whom young Langford was loth to be got 
 rid of, about their business, were soon fully acquaint 
 ed with all that their curiosity was itching to know 
 touching the particulars of her stolen marriage 
 the morning rendezvous, the Church ceremonial, 
 the hotel breakfast, the scene at home, the paren 
 tal forgiveness and the tearful parting. 
 
 The Langford girls wondered and laughed, and 
 joked one another thereanent, so familiarly and 
 gaily, that Xanthine speedily felt as if they were 
 so many sisters ; while the superb and winning Mrs. 
 Langford took (it would seem) such a wonderful 
 liking to her from her story, and showed, at any 
 rate, such a tender interest in her concerns, that Xan 
 thine could have regarded her as a mother, had 
 she been a trifle older. Xanthe thought that life 
 was in a manner opening upon her. 
 
 And here, indeed, were I to go on and relate 
 all that happened on that memorable evening, even 
 between Xanthine and her new friends, I should 
 bring down upon myself the outcries of those who 
 are very sensitive upon such points, for approach 
 ing too near the awful secrets of wedlock, nearer, 
 at all events, than a superannuated bachelor has 
 any right to come. I had it all, however, from the 
 
284 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 charming lips of Mrs. Langford, whom (it will ea 
 sily be discovered) I have described somewhat con 
 amore, and with whom I became intimately ac 
 quainted a short time after at Congress Spa. The 
 Intimacy was a noble friendship on her side, (for 
 getting or overlooking my want of merit,) but on 
 mine fell little short of worship, though I never so 
 far lost sight of the unworthiness before mentioned 
 as to breathe such a thing to her. She was very 
 entertaining on the incidents of this evening. 
 
 " Those girls (said she) were giggling together 
 about something of which they dared not speak 
 openly. At last, my Grace (child-like), their cous 
 in, got hold of it by teasing, and forthwith whis 
 pered her mamma, who, you may be sure, chid her, 
 saying (with a blush, I warrant), ' Nonsense, child !' 
 ' But the girls say there is one, 5 persists Grace. 
 ' One what ? ' demands young Mrs. Tremaine. ' A 
 bridal state room,' promptly answers my girl, in a 
 loud whisper ' now is there, Mrs. Tremaine ? ' At 
 that, the other girls cry out, reproving her, and 
 threaten never to tell her another secret. But 
 Mrs. T., blushing no more than became her, replies, 
 1 Of course ! ' affecting gayety. She blushed (I'm 
 certain) for her tall coxcomb, who had foolishly en 
 gaged without her knowledge (as she assured me) 
 that distinguished apartment, of which I had never 
 
THE WEDDING TOUE. 285 
 
 before heard. It was a feature of your New World 
 manners that excited my curiosity, I own, and tak 
 ing shelter behind that of the young people, I went 
 with them to view it. As it is likely, Major (so 
 she called me from habit), you never saw the inside 
 of such a place, I'll describe it to you against your 
 time comes I vow you blush, Major. Well, there, 
 as I live, was the prettiest French chambre a 
 coucher imaginable, but so small you could hardly 
 turn round in't. The curtains were rich white silk 
 damask looped with silver, the coverlet of white 
 merino embroidered, the pillows and sheets trim 
 med with real Brussels. The couch was inlaid 
 work, the wash-hand set of the finest Hose de Se 
 vres, the chairs covered with white satin, and an 
 elegant tiny toilet to match, with a plate mirror 
 reflecting all, by the light of two wax tapers (which 
 the girls lighted) in silver sconces (or I won't swear 
 but they were plated). The carpet was of white 
 roses. Wasn't it ridiculous ? That fair and quick 
 witted Mrs. Tremaine was one rosy blush all the 
 time. It was the strangest thing I have seen this 
 side the water." 
 
 " >Tis an advertisement to the line," said I, in 
 explanation. " The sapient owners of the Aquatica 
 first had the genius to invent this singular piece of 
 democratic luxury, and as every paper in the Colum- 
 
286 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 Man Confederacy copied the paragraph in which the 
 reporter of the Gotham Herald described it, it was 
 money well laid out. 
 
 The idea has been ridiculed, as we all know, 
 but has kept its place, and now every new hotel in 
 Gotham has its bridal chamber, fitted up with a 
 lavish magnificence that might content an Empress 
 on her wedding-night, to grace the costly sacrifice 
 she makes to the sacred welfare of the State ; which 
 is no costlier, say our republicans, than that of the 
 simplest maiden, and merits no greater pomp to 
 deck it. 
 
 This incident must naturally have annoyed our 
 Xanthine, but it was turned into a fresh consolation 
 reserved for her by a good Providence, for it hap 
 pened that Mrs. Langford to her other perfections 
 added the crowning one of a piety without either 
 inoroseness or tepidity, and when the silk-lined nest 
 of the Aquatica had been fully viewed, find the 
 young people had quitted it, that gracious lady, 
 holding back her daughter by one hand, turned 
 sweetly to Xanthine and said, holding up a small 
 black chaplet, " Shall we say our night-prayers 
 together, my dear Mrs. Tremaine ? Grace and I 
 are Positives, you see, and naturally you will like 
 to place yourself under the protection of our Bless 
 ed Mother." u Of all things," cried Xanthine, 
 
THE WEDDING TOUR. 287 
 
 fairly throwing her arms around Mrs. Langford's 
 neck. So the generous and feeling matron cheered 
 the lonely and trembling heart of the young bride 
 by the efficacy of social prayer the strongest and 
 sweetest thing on earth, from which the participa 
 tion of an unsullied child detracted nothing, I 
 warrant, in the sight of Heaven, nor would such a 
 three-fold cord as that be easily broken. And 
 when their hearts were opened by this delightful 
 and elevating process, I can well imagine (little as 
 I know of such matters) that Xanthine could want 
 in that narrow privacy of a steamboat state-room, 
 neither a judicious friend nor a tender mother, nor 
 pertinent advice nor frank encouragement. I won't 
 be bail that Providence will always serve runaways 
 in that fashion, nor even those who in all things are 
 obedient : but I set it down for the comfort of all 
 who are misused, unfairly treated, deserted and 
 frowned upon, that such is the moment when 
 Heaven is most piteous, most considerate for them, 
 and sends them the purest ray of its sunshine and 
 the gentlest dew of its blessing. 
 
 That Xanthine herself was keenly feeling every 
 phase of her new existence, may be inferred, and 
 ample evidence of it is found in her papers. I find 
 a sonnet which is said (on the back of it) to have 
 been written in " the silken nest of the Aquatica," 
 
288 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 not long, apparently, after she came on board, 
 " while Mr. T. is seeing to the luggage." It is in 
 pencil, and I had some trouble to decipher it, from 
 the intricate corrections, where the writer had 
 softened too bold a word, or heightened a tame 
 one, or mended the rhythm by some slight change 
 dictated by her taste. It is pleasantly called 
 
 THE CONVICT CELL. 
 The pris'ner doomed at such an hour to die, 
 
 With sinking heart hears strike Time's hourly knell ; 
 And scarce believes the minute is so nigh, 
 
 Yet feels his life is measured by the bell. 
 
 But thou, my soul ! oh, canst thou tell me why 
 Each silver stroke makes thy soft tenement swell, 
 
 Its lodger start, as he straightforth would fly, 
 And leave, yet unprofaned, his maiden cell? 
 
 Yet like the crim'nal, who full well doth know 
 His own cursed treason wrought his coming fate, 
 
 Mine heart must reap the harvest he did sow, 
 
 Whose wicked suasion made me change my state. 
 
 But that's the sharpness of the traitor's grief, 
 And makes my Wilful's terror past relief. 
 
 Thus sweetly did this bird play with her own 
 agonies in the fowler's ne t. I found also another 
 piece which seems to have been writ on the same 
 day, and to have been suggested by the scenery of 
 
THE WEDDING TOUE. 289 
 
 the noble river Hendrick. It purports to have 
 been written (in pencil) on a letter-back, while 
 "Mr. T. was figuring away at his accounts on one 
 of my quondam cards." It is headed 
 
 NATURE MY MIRROR. 
 
 The virgin river to the sea doth glide 
 
 And leaveth far behind each rocky shore ; 
 But sweetly fills the bosom brimming o'er 
 
 Of every inland bay with its swol'n tide. 
 
 So I, here seated by my master's side, 
 Perceive my maiden life for evermore 
 Tow'rds a mysterious deep its moments pour, 
 
 And look my wistful last on girlhood's pride. 
 
 What to all prayers I would have stern denied, 
 Nor might no nearest nor no dearest take, 
 
 And had I lost, for shame I would have died, 
 May this new master, when he pleases, make 
 
 His own possession, nor I must not chide; 
 Bold Love all claiming now, for duty's sake. 
 
 Such a girl as this, so full of delicate sensibility, 
 and gifted with so rare a power of expressing it in 
 words that would not have ill become the old poets 
 of Anglia in her free and classic age, ought to have 
 had (we have said it before) a nobler deity than 
 Tremaine whereon to lavish her treasures of feeling 
 and poetic sentiment. Indeed she seems to have kept 
 13 
 
290 BLONDE AND BKUNETTE. 
 
 her poetical effusions a profound secret from Tom ; 
 though proverbially careless, had a lock on her port 
 folio, and wore the key on her watch-chain. If 
 some people find a tone of Pagan sentiment in the 
 verses of our Xanthine, and some, it may be, a 
 freedom of expression more than they quite approve, 
 it must be remembered that she wrote for no human 
 eye but her own, and that the sentiments are to be 
 taken, as we have before hinted, partly as conven 
 tional borrowed from Xanthe's reading in the 
 classic authors of the isle and the age just mention 
 ed, of which her father had so choice a collection. 
 I dare say that Xanthine did (to tell the truth) look 
 at life just then from an aspect of the human affec 
 tions, with a warm, glowing hope of earthly enjoy 
 ment. There is a kind of Paganism, no doubt, in 
 that state of mind ; youth, health, beauty and hap 
 piness are four inveterate Pagans ; I am not disposed 
 to deny that. But I am sure she was charming, and 
 I've no doubt the sternest censor would have sub 
 scribed to this opinion, had he seen the bright hair 
 wave over her white, delicately-moulded, archly-ex 
 panding brow, and the tender sparkle of her oft 
 downcast eye, and the sweet smile of humor, ani 
 mation and womanly ardor that played over her 
 expressive face. She was young and happy, and 
 just married to the man of her choice a very 
 
THE WEDDING TOUR. 291 
 
 Apollo for beauty, as she herself would have said 
 let her enjoy the brief intoxication of those delicious 
 days, by the banks of the Iroquois river, shady with 
 elms and sung by the Poet of Erin, and in the won 
 drous rocky amphitheatres of the Oneida Falls, 
 where Tremaine helps her along the narrow path 
 cut in the cloven rock, above the roaring rapid. 
 They remained a whole week at Oneida Falls, and 
 Xanthe enriched her portfolio with many a sonnet. 
 Of many such we select one, which is entitled 
 
 "ONEIDA FALLS." 
 
 Thou sparkling daughter of the forest, why 
 
 From ledge to ledge leap'st down in sunny foam ? 
 Hast thou left far behind a tender home, 
 
 Thine own wild will with stranger-guide to try ? 
 
 Drip, drip, forever from the cliff so high, 
 And wear away beneath to honeycomb 
 The gray old limestone rock, whose vaulted dome 
 
 O'erhangs betwixt thy dashing and the sky ! 
 
 My soul, fair torrent ! from a loftier height 
 
 Falls in a sweet, perpetual foam of love ! 
 
 The rock I fall upon, with like delight 
 Sustains my gentle shock and restless shove ; 
 
 In smoothest hollows wears away below ; 
 Above, (ah me!) heav'n-hiding cliffs doth show. 
 
292 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 Xanthine, we perceive, is still in the honey-moon, 
 but a faint suspicion of something not altogether su 
 gary and sweet imparts itself to her lines ; she ad 
 mires and inhales the rose as fondly as ever, but it 
 may be that she has pricked her fingers once or 
 twice with the thorn. They visited the Oceanic 
 Falls, the Northern royal provinces and their gar 
 risoned cities, so different from those of Columbia. 
 Xanthine said her prayers in the largest and finest 
 churches of her faith she had ever seen, and won 
 dered if Mel was enjoying the privilege in much 
 grander ones. She " supposed, yes ; " and Tremaine 
 smiled with his most provoking indifference. Tom 
 really cared not a straw for many things that vividly 
 interested Xanthine, and regarded in the most mat 
 ter-of-fact point of view those special ones which 
 awed, exalted and attracted her the most. Indeed, 
 on some points, had Xanthine been a woman of the 
 new philosophical-sentimental school, like the cele 
 brated heroine Jeannette Fureur, in the novel of 
 Mademoiselle Cloche, she would have discovered 
 that they were antipathic. But though very sen 
 timental, Xanthe had no turn for philosophy ; she 
 had imbibed the idea that it was something with 
 which her sex had nothing to do ; and when, on her 
 being indisposed one Sunday morning, her husband, 
 instead of going to church by himself, as became a 
 
THE WEDDING TOUK. 293 
 
 good Positive, and which it was a deadly sin in her 
 eyes to omit without the best of reasons, stayed at 
 the hotel all the morning, reading a novel, though 
 the noble cathedral was so near that the glorious 
 music came rolling in at the open windows Xanthe 
 could only say, " Oh, you wicked fellow ! " and be 
 take herself to her own devotions with a forced 
 smile, and a secret tear, that dropped over the 
 book. 
 
 There is a particular reason why the irreligious- 
 ness of a husband should wound a wife, who, with 
 out being a violent devotee, has a strong and rather 
 elevated sense of religion ; and especially if she has 
 a fine imagination, as Xan thine had, which is a great 
 supporter of religiousness. The irreligious temper 
 is essentially an animal way of looking at things, 
 and of course extends to all the relations of life. 
 Wedlock, for instance (there it comes home to wo 
 men), has its spiritual aspect in the union of souls, 
 and is hallowed in a chaste woman's eyes, by the 
 religious mystery it represents ; the union of bodies 
 is but the matter of the sacrament, the vulgar and 
 material part, and without the other is but brutish ; 
 a high-souled woman feels herself degraded by it, 
 and hence (apart from all other considerations, 
 which it is none of my business to discuss) must 
 be sensibly wounded, I say, by the want or notable 
 
294 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 deficiency of that element in her husband which 
 would dispose him to view their union in its nobler 
 light. 
 
 Many have sought a definition of love, and 
 have given very silly ones. As man is an animal 
 plus reason, so human love (philosophically consid 
 ered) is the animal instinct determined to one object 
 by the rational part of humanity. But this last, 
 all experience proves, possesses a permanent empire 
 only on condition of an alliance with a power above 
 humanity. So love can be permanent only when it 
 is guaranteed by a mysterious consecration from 
 worlds unseen, and the lasting dearness of love's 
 material sign, its triumph over satiety and sensual 
 fickleness, comes from the spiritual mystery, from 
 the divine sacrament, which makes the wedded 
 " twain in one flesh." Therefore we see why, when 
 this consecrating idea is lost or weakened, the per 
 manence of the wedded union is assailed by divorce, 
 and its unity is invaded by polygamy ; for love itself 
 has disappeared, (the human attribute,) and brute 
 appetite has taken its place. Domestic peace, true 
 wedded joys, nuptial happiness, conjugal fidelity, 
 chaste love, well-ordered families, tender parents, 
 obedient children, loving brothers and sisters, all are 
 no more. The State is uprooted, the bond of 
 human society is dissolved, labor has lost its 
 
THE WEDDING TOUR. 295 
 
 motive, industry its reward, barbarism is ap 
 proaching ; because without the religious mys 
 tery no marriage, without marriage no love, with 
 out love (men being then but brutes,) no true 
 mankind. 
 
 It is with reason, then, that this love is made 
 of so much importance, for here is the life of so 
 ciety situated : this is the vital spot. Nor can 
 there be a more violently unequal conjunction than 
 between one who reverences the mystery on which 
 love rests, and one who does not even perceive it. 
 That was the thorn which pricked Xanthine under 
 the rose of her nuptial happiness, and to the very 
 quick. She herself about this time feelingly ex 
 pressed it in the following lines. They w r ere writ 
 ten towards the end of her honeymoon, while they 
 were stopping for a week of lovely weather in a 
 fine grazing valley hemmed in by green picturesque 
 mountains, where the w^ell-cleared uplands were 
 covered with flocks of sheep of choice breeds. 
 These noble pastures were enclosed by groves of 
 chestnut and oak, and sprinkled with fine maples 
 which produced in the spring of the year quan 
 tities of delicious sugar, and in summer afforded a 
 thick and grateful shade. Under such a tree they 
 w r ould throw themselves upon the grass to rest, 
 where there were no lookers-on but only the sheep 
 
296 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 peacefully feeding at a distance, and the golden- 
 haired Xanthine would lay aside her ample white 
 sun-bonnet, and suffer the wanton breeze to play 
 with her moist ringlets that spurned the comb. 
 Her husband would read to her aloud from the last 
 novel, or perhaps, if the day were very sultry, fall 
 asleep. Then Xanthine spreading her ivory tablets 
 in her lap, and using the pencil that ever hung in 
 a golden case at her belt, would give vent to her 
 inspired passion thus : 
 
 " VAIN PROTESTATIONS." 
 
 My Strephon vows my beauty he adores, 
 Yet never worships cloud-compelling Jove. 
 
 Than my soft crown of tresses never soars 
 Higher his thought, to Him that rules above. 
 
 But what shall bind the shepherd to my side 
 
 When these fair locks and limbs no longer move 
 
 His wearied longing, though the awful Guide 
 Of the great flock of men no change approve ? 
 
 'Tis not thy whiteness, Oh my wedded hand ! 
 
 Which Phoebus' lawless kisses may imbrown ; 
 Nor swan-like neck, once every gazer scanned, 
 
 Now wiselier hid by " sober matron gown." 
 
 No mortal charms can hold the Swain till death 
 But Jove, the Witness of his plighted faith ! 
 
THE WEDDING TOUE. 297 
 
 But the development of Xanth's art-faculty is 
 something that we have yet to contemplate, while 
 Melanie lives (more womanly destiny) in the glories 
 of her husband. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 A LETTER FEOM MEL AND XANTH'S REFLECTIONS. 
 
 IT was while Xanthine was still in this delight 
 ful and yet green solitude, for the first frosts had 
 not done more than touch here and there a tender 
 maple with bright gold or orange snaded into red, 
 that she received the first letter from Melanie. 
 Tom brought it her after breakfast, while she was 
 sitting on the sunny side of the house, in the upper 
 piazza, enjoying the solar warmth mixed with the 
 freshness of the mountain atmosphere. She ex 
 claimed with delight, and broke the seal with 
 eagerness. Of course it was written very fine, on 
 extremely thin foreign post, and crossed with red 
 ink. It was a morning's work to read it through, 
 especially as she read it aloud to Tom, as follows : 
 
 , Aug. 20, 18 . 
 
 " MY DEAREST XANTHE, 
 
 u You have no doubt heard by my short letter 
 to mamma, of our safe arrival in Albion, &c. I 
 
MEL'S LETTER. 299 
 
 must now give you a short account of our voyage 
 and travels since we landed. I intended to have 
 written you a very long letter sooner, but you 
 know how hard it is to find time for that when one 
 is on the go. By the by, dear, we have just got 
 the dear letters from home, and one containing 
 such intelligence ! It took us by surprise, I promise 
 you. Oh, you naughty runaway ! But I must not 
 chide you, darling, I suppose you could not 
 help it. Only it does strike me that Father R. 
 acted rather queer to give you all the benedic 
 tions, and yours a stolen match, and refuse them 
 to me, who was married under my father's roof! 
 Donald is rather scandalized by it, which makes me 
 care more than I otherwise should. Not that I 
 envy your happiness, dearest, to kneel inside the 
 altar for the blessings of the Church and all, though 
 I wonder (as Donald does) if the privilege can have 
 been fairly purchased. But pray give brother Tom 
 a sisterly kiss for me, and tell him honestly I hope 
 he did not obtain my Xanth on false pretences. 
 Does this sound tart, dearest ? 'Tis only the long 
 way across the ocean that turns the sweetness into 
 sour, (as you would say, dear,) for my eyes are 
 brimful of tears of tenderness every word I write, 
 and I do (in sober earnest) love you both dearly. 
 " How I do run on, without a word of our 
 
300 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 voyage ? But it wants your knack at description 
 to touch it off. If I try, I shall run into fustian. 
 Let's see. 'The mighty steamship furrows the 
 bosom of the deep, regardless of its impatient 
 heaving and of its wild surges, cleaving, too, the 
 atmosphere apart with the irresistible wedge of its 
 sharply-lined prow, defeating all the endeavors of 
 the offended air to arrest, by a head wind, (which 
 we had all the way,) the progress of this new po 
 tentate of motion, who disdains its ancient help 
 and mocks at its fruitless opposition ! What recks 
 the royal Oceanica, her fiery heart constantly 
 beating, and her broad vans (that's the paddles) 
 scourging the envious and irritated waters into a 
 raging foam ? Her sooty and flaming respiration 
 issues in thick volumes from her black pipe, and in 
 spite of wind and wave, she scores her two hundred 
 and fifty miles a day on the astonished pathway of 
 nations.' Donald impertinently looks over my 
 shoulder, and laughs so much at the above, that 
 I've a mind to scratch it out. To own the honest 
 truth, I did not enjoy the steamer so much as I 
 would have done a sailing-vessel. Indeed there 
 was but one advantage I could discover in the 
 former, that it was sooner over, like the pulling of 
 a tooth by a skilful dentist. One hates to under 
 go the operation at all, but if it must be done, one 
 
MEL'S LETTER. 301 
 
 would rather a thousand times go to that sweet 
 Dr. William Forceps, who draws it for you in an 
 eye-twinkling, (and is so handsome besides and has 
 such fine teeth himself,) than to ugly old Dr. Jaw- 
 rench, who murders you for a full half-hour. The 
 nasty breath of the latter and his fulsome 'my 
 dears,' are as great a penance, you know, as the 
 dreadful turn key that he will use, and while he is 
 hauling out the offending pearl (you know I had 
 too many) you feel quite profaned by his large 
 paws pulling your head against his coat-collar; 
 but I declare the mere half-minute that Dr. F. 
 holds you like a vice is almost pleasant. (Donald 
 looks over again, and laughs and cries ' Fie ! ' who 
 cares ?) Well, a steamer is just like that, from all 
 I can learn, compared to a ship. I was sick all 
 the time. You know I paid my devoirs to Nep 
 tune that first evening, going round Point Deborah, 
 on our way to Shawmut, and as I told you the 
 next morning, passed the whole night on deck, 
 curled up on a bale of goods, just saved by the 
 open air from deadly nausea. Donald flattered me 
 with the prospect of an excellent voyage, from this 
 preliminary preparation, but his prediction was 
 not on the book of fate. Before the sun went 
 down on the dancing horizon, I was leaning in a 
 very suspicious way, dear, over the side, (Donald 
 
302 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 most kindly holding my head and waist,) and that 
 is the history of my voyage pretty much. McAboy 
 would prevail on me sometimes to let him carry 
 me up from my berth, for I could not raise my own 
 head from the pillow without being affected in a 
 particularly disagreeable way not necessary to de 
 scribe, and he would lay me on the deck, wrapped 
 up in a buffalo-robe of the Captain's, (for it's very 
 cold at sea,) that I might enjoy something of the 
 really magnificent scene the waves, dear, wildly 
 tossing as if there was no such thing as sea-sickness, 
 the rim of the ocean now coming in sight, now dis 
 appearing, now and then the spout of a whale, now 
 and then (dear Donald would make me cast a 
 fainting glance over the side at them) a shoal of 
 leaping porpoises trying their speed against the un 
 wearied paddles of the Oceanica. Or else I would 
 lie quiet, bearing my headache and ceaseless verti 
 go, and looking up at the clouds, (or at nightfall) at 
 the stars ; and the ocean scenery has after all, I 
 suppose, sunk a deep impression into my memory ; 
 if I suffered then, I remember with pleasure. Yet 
 for the most part it was like a delirious dream, a 
 night of fever and a day of pain, till I found myself 
 (Oh, on such a lovely July morning !) at breakfast 
 with Donald in an inn parlor on terra-firma, all 
 habited freshly as if I had just come from church, 
 
MEL'S LETTER. 303 
 
 ready for a start, and we were soon side by side in 
 one of the luxurious first-class cars, speeding along 
 smoothly and swiftly, through a finely cultivated 
 country, interspersed with open moors, with a cool, 
 4 half-cloudy ? sky, (as Donald says,) towards bonny 
 Caledon. 
 
 " By-and-by we were on the top of a stage 
 coach, (the railway failing us,) and how merry 
 grew my heart, dear, as the steeds galloped up the 
 hills, and the air of the Border took rude liberties 
 with my ' bonnie brown locks,' (DONALD,) and the 
 Highlands grew near in thought, with their crags 
 a thousand feet high, and the blooming heather, and 
 (Donald adds impertinent fellow ! he will look 
 over) the ancient castle of Mull, the original nest 
 of the McAboys ! McAboy, you must know, dear, 
 had mounted a blue bonnet already, and threatened 
 to put on the kilt, but I would not hear of it then ! 
 However, I allowed him a plaid against the cold 
 mists which I expected to meet, half enveloping the 
 ancient castle, and the 'toplin' craigs aboon it. 
 Well, you must imagine, for I can't describe, the 
 fishing, and pedestrianizing such walks as we did 
 take, and such delicious repose in the knee-deep 
 fern, (and deeper,) such comic chance meals in cot 
 tages, and chance lodgings by cottage hearths, the 
 suppers of trout, and in due time of grouse for 
 
304 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 we spent a whole month in the Highlands, our hon 
 eymoon, dearest Xanthe, all the rapturous enjoy 
 ment of which you can understand without my poor 
 pen to assist you, wandering for the first time free 
 and unblamed ' wi' the lad you loe well ; ' and who 
 grows dearer to you every day, hour, and minute, 
 by the fresh proofs every one brings of his manli 
 ness, gentleness, tenderness for you, innate noble 
 ness, and unselfishness, and all the other good 
 4 nesses ' that be in the dictionary. I can say with 
 my hand on my heart, (his hand is on it,) that I 
 love and honor my Donald ten thousand times 
 more than I did two months since, and that I have 
 not found a single reason, but only one, which I 
 knew before, (wicked that I am and wickedly hap 
 py,) for repenting of my choice. Oh, my darling ! 
 my prayer and my hope is that you may always be 
 able to say the same. So we've come down through 
 old Anglia like lightning again. Donald's portfolio 
 is full of sketches, and he is giving about a fort 
 night to the private galleries in London, to which 
 we have gained free access by the letters Mr. De 
 Grotius and ' Uncle James ' gave us. Sir RICHARD 
 ELLE, the President (you know) of the Royal Ang 
 lian Academy, has been very polite to Donald, as 
 Lady Elle has been to me, and so have the Earl of 
 CASTLE-HOWARD, Sir ROBERT' STRIP, the Prime 
 
MEL'S LETTER. 305 
 
 Minister, (who sent us cards to see his private col 
 lection, one of the finest in the kingdom,) and sev 
 eral more of the nobility, (although their houses 
 are mostly shut up at this season, which makes it 
 more kind of them.) As soon as we can finish 
 these pictures, which exceed, Xanthine, every thing 
 you ever imagined, we set off for the continent, 
 whence I shall send you a fresh batch of adven 
 tures. 
 
 " With a thousand kisses and prayers, 
 " Ever your own 
 
 "MEL. 
 
 " P. S. We did not get many opportunities of 
 going to church in Caledonia, which you know is 
 a Negative country, (pity 'tis, 'tis true,) but here 
 in London I go every morning to a chapel, not far 
 from our lodgings, which are in the fashionable 
 quarter. It is not much to speak of, but I like the 
 priest very much that is, the one I have seen. 
 Donald is so kind on these points (yes, I will say it, 
 sir !) well, well, enough said ; but if I were will 
 ing to neglect my religion, he would not permit 
 me." 
 
 Xanthine sighed while she kissed her sister's 
 signature, with such sisterly warmth as if she would 
 fain have kissed the writer across the ocean. She 
 
306 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 observed that Mel seemed very happy. Tom wished 
 that Melanie had enlarged a little more on the high 
 life personages she mentioned in the conclusion, 
 and had narrated what and how much she saw of 
 them. " I should have been better pleased," quoth 
 Xanth, " had she enlarged more on every thing. I 
 expected to hear about the royal palaces and the 
 castles of nobility, and the parks and old cathe 
 drals, besides the galleries of pictures all at full 
 length, like a painter's bride ; but it is just her 
 own honeymoon," cried she, laughing, " and we 
 know what that is as well as she." 
 
 If Xanthe had been a classical scholar, she 
 would have remembered what the poet says of 
 those who seek distant lands, " that they change 
 their sky, but not their mind," and then might 
 also have occurred to her what is writ about " atra 
 cura," only it was not black Care that sat behind 
 Melanie McAboy, but young Love who sat before 
 her, with his rosy limbs astride of her equestrian 
 knee, guiding her bridle-hand, (the mischievous 
 urchin,) without her being aware. There were 
 passages of Mel's letter, over which Xanthe cried 
 afterwards, when she re-read it alone. Not that 
 Xanthe was unhappy ; but that she was in some 
 measure disappointed in Tom, she could not deny ; 
 and Mel seemed perfectly content. 
 
XANTH'S REFLECTIONS. 307 
 
 " Yet Mel's marriage," thought she, " was not 
 blessed by the Church, and mine was ! Can it be 
 because hers was approved by father and mother, 
 and mine a runaway affair ? Is the blessing of a 
 parent so much more efficacious than that of 
 Heaven ? " 
 
 "With these reflections (as I find in her journal) 
 the fair bride of two months, taking her lute or 
 guitar, chanted, while the twilight faded and the 
 moonbeam brightened over the gleaming valley 
 and the dark mountain ridges, the following lines : 
 
 THE FADING LIGHT. 
 
 Oh rosy Light, 
 From this soft scene fast fading ! 
 
 Oh Crescent bright, 
 But pale, that scene invading ! 
 As lessens one, the other grows ; 
 No rayless pit fair Nature knows ; 
 By day, by night, alike she glows ; 
 Now all her noon-day lustre throws ; 
 Now wakes the splendor with repose, 
 
 Of moon or star-graced night. 
 
 Oh Love's sweet light, 
 From Life's dim landscape fading ! 
 
 Oh paler-bright 
 Affection, still invading ! 
 
308 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 Be there no break no more in those ! 
 Bloom less fair flow'rs when falls my rose ! 
 "With tenderer joys than passion knows, 
 The wife's true heart within me glows ; 
 The shadow that new brightness shows, 
 Like moon and stars the Night ! 
 
CHAPTER XXVH. 
 
 RECALLED. 
 
 AT last a letter from Alford short, pithy, ur 
 gent summoned the Tremaines back to Gotham. 
 
 " I saw your uncle Jim to-day," wrote Alford. 
 " He wishes you to bring your wife to his house 
 till you can get settled. There's more news which 
 I will impart by word of mouth. My compliments 
 to the charming Mrs. Tremaine." 
 
 " That's doosid kind of Uncle Jim," quoth 
 Tom. " I wonder what the other news is." 
 
 " Well, I hope we shan't trespass long on your 
 uncle's hospitality," cries Xanthe. " I would rather 
 live in a garret, as Donald wanted Mel to do, and 
 do my own work." 
 
 So Xanthe packed the trunks, while Tremaine 
 bespoke seats in the stage that passed through the 
 village that very morning. 
 
CHAPTER XXVHI. 
 
 THE BELLS "BROUGHT HOME.'' 
 
 THE sun was scarcely risen as the hackney-coach 
 stopped before the lofty portal of Mr. James McA- 
 boy's semi-castellated mansion of brown stone 
 that beautiful material of modern Gotham, which 
 he was almost the first to introduce. The first 
 considerable mansion built of it was, however, the 
 Palladian pile still inhabited by our friend De 
 Grotius. Early as was the hour, the hack-driver 
 could not ring the bell before the rich oak doors 
 were thrown open by the servants, who were ex 
 pecting the arrival of the young couple, and who 
 received them with a zealous welcome due to the 
 affable and generous disposition of Tremaine. 
 Xanthine glanced with innocent awe and admi 
 ration at the stately hall into which she was now 
 for the first time admitted, its marble pavement, 
 (then rare in Gotham,) massive oak-grained stair 
 case, Gothic doorways opening, and dome of 
 
THE BELLS "BROUGHT HOME." 311 
 
 colored glass. Up the broad and easy stair, car 
 peted with velvet, and sparkling with statues, ar 
 mor, and bronzes, she followed the tripping maid 
 servant, to a corridor (as Xanthe said) like that of 
 an old castle, and so to a lofty and sumptuous 
 chamber. Here the bedstead and furniture was 
 also of oak, richly carved and superbly upholstered. 
 " Why, it is a perfect palace, Tom," cried she. 
 
 " The finest establishment in Gotham," said 
 Tom, who knew them all. 
 
 It was necessary that Mrs. Tremaine should 
 apply herself immediately to the affair of the morn 
 ing toilet. A door of the apartment opened into 
 a " lovely " bath-room. In about an hour and a 
 half young Mrs. Tremaine was ready, and, her hus 
 band having surveyed her pretty neglige with a 
 critical but satisfied air, he only moved an amend 
 ment to her little matronly lace cap, they went 
 down together to the breakfast-room. Tom might 
 criticize, but I don't know what other man could, 
 that dewy morning bloom and fresh and simple 
 toilette. 
 
 A white-haired gentleman, with a Roman beak, 
 piercing gray eye and florid complexion, looked up 
 from his newspaper as they entered, and after a 
 glance of deliberate inspection, rose, advanced with 
 cordiality, and kissed Xanthine affectionately on 
 both cheeks. 
 
312 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 "Welcome to your future home, my child," 
 said the old gentleman. " And by the way, break 
 fast is ready. Will you take your place at the urn, 
 Mrs. Tremaine ? " 
 
 " With the greatest pleasure in life," says 
 Xanthine, gayly, "as long as you will be an old 
 bachelor, sir." 
 
 "Ah ! " said Mr. McAboy, "had I met a face 
 as bright as yours when I was of this puppy's age, 
 I should not be an old bachelor now, believe me." 
 
 So Xanthine was installed at once as mistress 
 in the splendid mansion of Uncle James. Tom was 
 thus virtually acknowledged as his uncle's principal 
 heir. In fact, Uncle James had only Tremaine 
 and Donald to whom to leave his fortune, nor could 
 he do better than divide the bulk of it between 
 them. The immediate enjoyment of so excellent a 
 worldly position Tom owed in part to the beauty, 
 innocence, and winning gayety of his young wife, 
 and in part to the intervention of that clever 
 Alford. 
 
 Alford had represented to Mr. McAboy that 
 the proper way to mollify old Blake towards Tom, 
 so as to secure Xanthine's portion for his nephew, 
 was to make Tremaine a good match for the girl, 
 even considering her expectations. So Alford was 
 authorized to promise Tremaine a provision equal 
 
THE BELLS " BEOUGHT HOME." 313 
 
 to that which Mr. Blake should make for Xanthine. 
 Mr. Blake was at first obdurate. Not a cint of his 
 money, he had said it, should any Tom Tremaine 
 ever finger, and not a cint he should. 
 
 " All such promises," observed Alford, astutely, 
 " are made either to be broken, or to be kept only 
 in the letter. It is not necessary for Mr. Blake to 
 give any of his money to Tom, or in such a way 
 that Tom can ever finger it. That is easily ar 
 ranged." 
 
 In fine, Alford drew up a codicil to Mr. Blake's 
 will, devising and bequeathing to his son, Patrick 
 Bailey Blake, and to Mr. Bradley Alford, one hun 
 dred thousand dollars in trust for his daughter 
 Xanthine, the interest to be paid to her, for her 
 sole use and benefit, and so forth, as tight as the 
 law could make it. Mr. McAboy, on his part, with 
 true Scotch thrift, commuted his legacy for an an 
 nuity of $5,000 to Tom, secured by deed of trust, 
 and commencing immediately. 
 
 " But I must have a quid for my quo," said 
 Uncle James, it was a standing McAboy jest, 
 " and that pretty Mrs. Xanthine must keep house 
 for rne, and make my Gothic palace cheerful for 
 the rest of my days." 
 
 Patrick Blake thought that Uncle James had 
 the best of the bargain. But when was a Hiber- 
 14 
 
 
314 BLONDE AND BEUNETTE. 
 
 nian a match for a Caledonian Celt, at that kind of 
 game ? 
 
 Donald and Melanie spent two years in Europe, 
 and returned, Donald full of genius, studies, fame, 
 and gold. They did not go to Uncle Jamie's on 
 their arrival, but to papa Blake's, whence in a 
 month or so, the McAboys migrated into a house 
 of their own, which Donald's taste made the very 
 ideal of an artist's residence. In a few months 
 after they took possession of it, Melam'e's son 
 Patrick Jamie Friedrich McAboy was born. 
 
 Mel was very happy was she not ? with the 
 most gifted husband, the most beautiful child, the 
 prettiest house, not to say in Gotham, almost in 
 the world. 
 
 I do not think, however, that Donald's works 
 were altogether worthy of his genius or his fame, 
 or of the position which he undeniably held among 
 artists. They were beautiful, careful, scholarly pic 
 tures, faultless in color and drawing, and finely mo 
 tived but somehow they did not speak right to the 
 popular heart. He got very high prices for them, 
 and was highly appreciated by all connoisseurs. 
 Mr. De Grotius used to buy one now and then, and 
 sometimes sold them again. I have heard Manuel 
 Seijas complain that Donald's women were all too 
 much like his wife, or his still more beautiful sister- 
 in-law. 
 
THE BELLS "BROUGHT HOME." 315 
 
 The beauty of the latter would go -far to excuse 
 any artist for copying such a model. Her golden 
 tresses surpassed the mistresses of Titian, and her 
 countenance (in Donald's pictures, I mean) was as 
 divinely spiritual as her form was luxuriant. Me- 
 lanie was half jealous of her husband's great par 
 tiality for Xanthine's classic loveliness. 
 
 Yet Xanthine's happiness had so many draw 
 backs that it is a wonder her lustrous and undu 
 lating beauty was neither dimmed nor wasted. 
 Tremaine's habits could not be called good. He 
 resumed from the time of their return to Uncle 
 Jamie's, the profession of a saunterer, and pursued 
 it with an application worthy of a better calling. 
 Billiards were his business, play his excitement, 
 drink his consolation. If he avoided some gross 
 and perilous indulgences, yet the possession of the 
 loveliest woman in Gotham did not render him a 
 perfectly faithful spouse. He grew handsomer as 
 he grew older, and in the brilliant but corrupt so 
 ciety of the commercial capital, continued to be 
 the favorite of one sex, and the leader of the 
 other. 
 
 Then they had no children. The cares and 
 duties of maternity would have sufficiently occu 
 pied Xanthine's heart and time, to make her almost 
 forget the irregularities, and less sensibly feel the 
 
 
316 BLONDE AND BRUNETTE. 
 
 too frequent neglect of her husband. But deprived 
 of this resource, the vacancy in her heart and the 
 inward pain that too often rankled there, drove 
 her to seek occupation and solace in the exercise 
 of her rare imaginative faculty. The impassioned 
 poetry and heart-touching tales which we owe to 
 the pen of Mrs. Tremaine, could never have em 
 anated from her, had her internal equalled, in calm 
 felicity, her exterior lot. We may encounter her 
 again in the history of another career, and if so, 
 the perusal of this inartificial tale will aid in ex 
 plaining her character. 
 
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