"Whether he has a sitting or a standing reception," said Caroline, "let the colonel have as striking a _coup d'oeil_ as possible."
Their brother Robert had gone to the theatre by invitation of a family with whose sons he was intimate; and Sophia Clements, who was desirous of finishing a highly interesting book, and who was not in the least addicted to sleepiness, volunteered to sit up for him.
"I think," said she, "as the hour is too late, and the night too stormy to expect any visiters, I will go and exchange my dress for a wrapper; I can then be perfectly at my ease while sitting up for Robert. I will first ring for Peter to move one of the sofas to the side of the fire, and to place the reading-lamp upon the table before it."
She did so; and in a short time she came down in a loose double wrapper, and with her curls pinned up.
"Really, Aunt Sophy," said Harriet, "that is an excellent idea.
Caroline, let us pin our hair here in the parlour before the mantel-glass; that will be better still--our own toilet table is far from the fire."
"True," replied Caroline, "and you are always so long at the dressing-glass that it is an age before I can get to it,--but here, if there were even four of us, we could all stand in a row and arrange our hair together before this long mirror."
They sent up for their combs and brushes, their boxes of hair pins, and their flannel dressing-gowns, and placed candles on the mantel-piece, preparing for what they called "clear comfort;" while Sophia reclined on the sofa by the fire, deeply engaged with Miss Owenson's new novel. The girls, having poured some cologne-water into a glass, wetted out all their ringlets with it, preparatory to the grand curling that was to be undertaken for the morrow, and which was not to be opened out during the day.
Harriet had just taken out her comb and untied her long hair behind, to rehearse its arrangement for the ensuing evening, when a ring was heard at the street-door.
"That's Bob," said Caroline. "He is very early from the theatre; I wonder he should come home without staying for the farce."
Presently their black man, with a grin of high delight, threw open the parlour-door, and ushered in an elegant-looking officer, who, having left his cloak in the hall, appeared before them in full uniform,--and they saw at a glance that it could be no one but Colonel Forrester.
Words cannot describe the consternation and surprise of the young ladies. Sophia dropped her book, and started on her feet; Harriet throwing down her comb so that it broke in pieces on the hearth, retreated to a chair that stood behind the sofa with such precipitation as nearly to overset the table and the reading-lamp; and Caroline, scattering her hair-pins over the carpet, knew not where she was, till she found herself on a footstool in one of the recesses. Alas! for the _coup d'oeil_ and the first impression! Instead of heads _a la Grecque_, or in the Vandyke fashion, their whole _chevelure_ was disordered, and their side-locks straightened into long strings, and clinging, wet and ungraceful, to their cheeks. Instead of scarlet crape frocks trimmed with satin, or white muslin with six flounces, their figures were enveloped in flannel dressing-gowns. All question of the sitting reception, or the standing reception was now at an end; for Harriet was hiding unsuccessfully behind the sofa, and Caroline crouching on a footstool in the corner, trying to conceal a large rent which in her hurry she had given to her flannel gown. Resolutions never again to make their toilet in the parlour, regret that they had not thought of flying into the adjoining room and shutting the folding-doors after them, and wonder at the colonel's premature appearance, all passed through their minds with the rapidity of lightning.
Sophia, after a moment's hesitation, rallied from her confusion; and her natural good sense and ease of manner came to her aid, as she curtsied to the stranger and pointed to a seat. Colonel Forrester, who saw at once that he had come at an unlucky season, after introducing himself, and saying he presumed he was addressing Miss Clements, proceeded immediately to explain the reason of his being a day in advance of the appointed time. He stated that his mother, on account of the dangerous illness of an intimate and valued friend, had been obliged to postpone her visit to Philadelphia; and that in consequence of an order from the war-office, which required his immediate presence at Washington, he had been obliged to leave Boston a day sooner than he intended, and to travel with all the rapidity that the public conveyances would admit. He had arrived about eight o'clock at the Mansion House Hotel, where a dinner was given that evening to a distinguished naval commander.
Colonel Forrester had immediately been waited upon by a deputation from the dinner-table, with a pressing invitation to join the company; and this (though he did not then allude to it) was the reason of his being in full uniform. Compelled to pursue his journey very early in the morning, he had taken the opportunity, as soon as he could get away from the table, of paying his compliments to the ladies, and bringing with him a letter to Miss Clements from her brother, whom he had seen in passing through New York, and one from his mother for Mrs. Darnel.
Grievously chagrined and mortified as the girls were, they listened admiringly to the clear and handsome manner in which the colonel made his explanation, and they more than ever regretted that all their castles in the air were demolished, and that after this unlucky visit he would probably have no desire to see them again, when he came to Philadelphia on his return from Washington.
Sophia, who saw at once that she had to deal with a man of tact and consideration, felt that an apology for the disorder in which he had found them was to him totally unnecessary, being persuaded that he already comprehended all she could have said in the way of excuse; and, with true civility, she forbore to make any allusion which might remind him that his unexpected visit had caused them discomfiture or annoyance.
Kindred spirits soon understand each other.
The girls were amazed to see their aunt so cool and so much at her ease, when her beautiful hair was pinned up, and her beautiful form disfigured by a large wrapper. But the colonel had penetration enough to perceive that under all these disadvantages she was an elegant woman.
Harriet and Caroline, though longing to join in the conversation, made signs to Sophia not to introduce them to the colonel, as they could not endure the idea of his attention being distinctly attracted towards them; and they perceived that in the fear of adding to their embarrassment he seemed to avoid noticing their presence. But they contrived to exchange signals of approbation at his wearing the staff uniform, with its golden-looking bullet buttons, and its shining star on each extremity of the coat skirts.
Colonel Forrester now began to admire a picture that hung over the piano, and Sophia took a candle and conducted him to it, that while his back was towards them, the girls might have an opportunity of rising and slipping out of the room. Of this lucky chance they instantly and with much adroitness availed themselves, ran up stairs, and in a shorter time than they had ever before changed their dresses, they came back with frocks on,--not, however, the scarlet crape, and the six-flounced muslin,--and with their hair nicely but simply arranged, by parting it on their foreheads in front, and turning it in a band round their combs behind. Sophia introduced them to the colonel, and they were now able to speak; but were still too much discomposed by their recent fright to be very fluent, or much at their ease.
In the mean time, their brother Robert had come home from the theatre; and the boy's eyes sparkled, when, on Miss Clements presenting her nephew, the colonel shook hands with him.
Colonel Forrester began to find it difficult to depart, and he was easily induced to stay and partake of the little collation that was on the table waiting the return of Robert; and the ease and grace with which Sophia did the honours of their _petit souper_ completely charmed him.
In conversation, Colonel Forrester was certainly "both sprightly and sensible." He had read much, seen much, and was peculiarly happy in his mode of expressing himself. Time flew as if
"----birds of paradise had lent Their plumage to his wings,"
and when the colonel took out his watch and discovered the lateness of the hour, the ladies _looked_ their surprise, and his was denoted by a very handsome compliment to them. He then concluded his visit by requesting permission to resume their acquaintance on his return from Washington.
As soon as he had finally departed, and Robert had locked the door after him, the girls broke out into a rhapsody of admiration, mingled with regret at the state in which he had surprised them, and the entire failure of their first impression, which they feared had not been retrieved by their second appearance in an improved style.
"Well," said Bob, "yours may have been a failure, but I am sure that was not the case with Aunt Sophia. It is plain enough that the colonel's impression of _her_ turned out very well indeed, notwithstanding that she kept on her wrapper, and had her hair pinned up all the time. Aunt Sophy is a person that a man may fall in love with in any dress; that is, a man who has as much sense as herself."
"As I am going to be a midshipman," continued Robert, "there is one thing I particularly like in Colonel Forrester, which is, that he is not in the least jealous of the navy. How handsomely he spoke of the sea-officers!"
"A man of sense and feeling," observed Sophia, "is rarely susceptible of so mean a vice as jealousy."
"How animated he looked," pursued the boy, "when he spoke of Midshipman Hamilton arriving at Washington with the news of the capture of the Macedonian, and going in his travelling dress to Mrs. Madison's ball, in search of his father the secretary of the navy, to show his despatches to him, and the flag of the British frigate to the President, carrying it with him for the purpose. No wonder the dancing ceased, and the ladies cried."
"Did you observe him," said Harriet, "when he talked of Captain Crowninshield going to Halifax to bring home the body of poor Lawrence, in a vessel of his own, manned entirely by twelve sea-captains, who volunteered for the purpose?"
"And did not you like him," said Caroline, "when he was speaking of Perry removing in his boat from the Lawrence to the Niagara, in the thickest of the battle, and carrying his flag on his arm? And when he praised the gallant seamanship of Captain Morris, when he took advantage of a tremendous tempest to sail out of the Chesapeake, where he had been so long blockaded by the enemy, passing fearlessly through the midst of the British squadron, not one of them daring, on account of the storm, to follow him to sea and fight him."
"The eloquence of the colonel seems to have inspired you all," said Sophia.
"Aunt Sophy," remarked Caroline, "at supper to-night, did you feel as firm in your resolution of never marrying an officer, as you were at the tea-table?"
"Colonel Forrester is not the only agreeable man I have met with,"
replied Miss Clements, evading the question. "It has been my good fortune to know many gentlemen that were handsome and intelligent."
"Well," said Robert, "one thing is plain enough to me, that Colonel Forrester is exactly suited to Aunt Sophy, and he knows it himself."
"And now, Bob," said Sophia, blushing, "light your candle, and go to bed."
"Bob is right," observed Harriet, after he had gone; "I saw in a moment that such a man as Colonel Forrester would never fancy _me_."
"Nor me," said Caroline.
Sophia kissed her nieces with more kindness than usual as they bade her good-night. And, they, retired to bed impatient for the arrival of morning, that they might give their mother all the particulars of Colonel Forrester's visit.
In a fortnight, he returned from Washington, and this time he made his first visit in the morning, and saw all the ladies to the best advantage. His admiration of Sophia admitted not of a doubt. Being employed for the remainder of the winter on some military duty in Philadelphia, he went for a few days to Boston and brought his mother (whose friend had recovered from her illness), to fulfil her expected visit. The girls found Mrs. Forrester a charming woman, and, fortunately for them, very indulgent to the follies of young people. The colonel introduced to them various officers that were passing through the city, so that they really _did_ walk in Chestnut street with gentlemen in uniform, and sat in boxes with them at the theatre.
Before the winter was over, Sophia Clements had promised to become Mrs.
Forrester as soon as the war was at an end. This fortunate event took place sooner than was expected, the treaty having been made, though it did not arrive, previous to the victory of New Orleans. The colonel immediately claimed the hand of the lady, and the wedding and its preparations, by engaging the attention of Harriet and Caroline, enabled them to conform to the return of peace with more philosophy than was expected. The streets no longer resounded with drums and fifes. Most of the volunteer corps disbanded themselves--the army was reduced, and the officers left off wearing their uniforms, except when at their posts.
The military ardour of the young ladies rapidly subsided--citizens were again at par--and Harriet and Caroline began to look with complacence on their old admirers. Messrs. Wilson and Thomson were once more in favour--and, seeing the coast clear, they, in process of time, ventured to propose, and were thankfully accepted.
PETER JONES.
A SKETCH FROM LIFE.
"Let the players be cared for."--SHAKSPEARE.
In the early part of the present century, there lived in one of the long streets in the south-eastern section of Philadelphia, a tailor, whom we shall introduce to our readers by the name of Peter Jones. His old-fashioned residence, which (strange to say) is yet standing, was not then put out of countenance by the modern-built structures that have since been run up on each side of it. There were, it is true, three or four new houses nearly opposite, all of them tenanted by genteel families--but Peter's side of the way (at least for the length of a square), was yet untouched by the hand of improvement, his own domicile being the largest and best in the row, and moreover of three stories--an advantage not possessed by the others. It had a square-topped door lighted by three small square panes--the parlour window (there was but one) being glazed to match, also with small glass and heavy wood work.
The blue-painted wooden door-step was furnished with a very convenient seat, denominated the porch, and sheltered above by a moss-grown pent-house. The whole front of the mansion was shaded by an enormous buttonwood tree, that looked as if it had been spared from the primeval forest by the axe of a companion of William Penn. The house, indeed, might have been the country seat of one of the early colonists. Under this tree stood a pump of excellent water.
Adjoining to the house was a little low blue frame, fronting also the street--and no ground speculator could pass it without sighing to think that so valuable a lot should be thus wasted. But Peter Jones owned both house and shop--his circumstances were comfortable, his tastes and ideas the reverse of elegant, and he had sense enough to perceive that in attempting a superior style of life he should be out of his element, and therefore less happy. Assisted at times by a journeyman, he continued to work at his trade because he was used to it, and that he might still have the enjoyment of making clothes for three or four veterans of the revolution; and also for two old judges, who had been in Congress in those sensible times when that well-chosen body acted more and talked less. All these sexagenarians, having been enamoured of Peter Jones's cut when he was the Watson of his day, still retained their predilection for it; liking also to feel at ease in their own clothes, and not to wear garments that seemed as if borrowed from "the sons of little men." These gentlemen of the old school never passed without stopping at the shop window to chat a few words with Peter; sometimes stepping in, and taking a seat on his green Windsor chair--himself always occupying the shop-board, whether he was at work or not.
Our hero, though a tailor, was a tall, stout, ruddy, well-looking old man, having a fine capacious forehead, thinly shaded with gray hair, which was tied behind in a queue, and a clear, lively blue eye. He had acquired something of a martial air while assisting in the war of Independence, by making regimental coats--and no doubt this assistance was of considerable importance to the cause, it being then supposed that all men, even Americans, fight better, and endure hardships longer, when dressed in uniform.