great danger, at that critical moment, the meeting would terminate unpropitiously.
Thus far, however, all had been rigidly decorous, though the strong feelings that were glowing in the bosoms of both, had been so completely suppressed. But the smile, cold and embarrassed as it was, that each gave as she curtsied, had the sweet character of her childhood in it, and recalled to both the girlish and affectionate intercourse of their younger days.
"Grace!" said Eve, eagerly, advancing a step or two impetuously, and blushing like the dawn.
"Eve!"
Each opened her arms, and in a moment they were locked in a long and fervent embrace. This was the commencement of their former intimacy, and before night Grace was domesticated in her uncle's house. It is true that Miss Effingham perceived certain peculiarities about Miss Van Cortlandt, that she had rather were absent; and Miss Van Cortlandt would have felt more at her ease, had Miss Effingham a little less reserve of manner, on certain subjects that the latter had been taught to think interdicted. Notwithstanding these slight separating shades in character, however, the natural affection was warm and sincere; and if Eve, according to Grace's notions, was a little stately and formal, she was polished and courteous, and if Grace, according to Eve's notions, was a little too easy and unreserved, she was feminine and delicate.
We pass over the three or four days that succeeded, during which Eve had got to understand something of her new position, and we will come at once to a conversation between the cousins, that will serve to let the reader more intimately into the opinions, habits and feelings of both, as well as to open the real subject of our narrative. This conversation took place in that very library which had witnessed their first interview, soon after breakfast, and while the young ladies were still alone.
"I suppose, Eve, you will have to visit the Green's.--They are Hajjis, and were much in society last winter."
"Hajjis!--You surely do not mean, Grace, that they have been to Mecca?"
"Not at all: only to Paris, my dear; that makes a Hajji in New-York."
"And does it entitle the pilgrim to wear the green turban?" asked Eve, laughing.
"To wear any thing, Miss Effingham; green, blue, or yellow, and to cause it to pass for elegance."
"And which is the favourite colour with the family you have mentioned?"
"It ought to be the first, in compliment to the name, but, if truth must be said, I think they betray an affection for all, with not a few of the half-tints in addition."
"I am afraid they are too prononcées for us, by this description. I am no great admirer, Grace, of walking rainbows."
"Too Green, you would have said, had you dared; but you are a Hajji too, and even the Greens know that a Hajji never puns, unless, indeed, it might be one from Philadelphia. But you will visit these people?"
"Certainly, if they are in society and render it necessary by their own civilities."
"They are in society, in virtue of their rights as Hajjis; but, as they passed three months at Paris, you probably know something of them."
"They may not have been there at the same time with ourselves," returned Eve, quietly, "and Paris is a very large town. Hundreds of people come and go, that one never hears of. I do not remember those you have mentioned."
"I wish you may escape them, for, in my untravelled judgment, they are anything but agreeable, notwithstanding all they have seen, or pretend to have seen."
"It is very possible to have been all over christendom, and to remain exceedingly disagreeable; besides one may see a great deal, and yet see very little of a good quality."
A pause of two or three minutes followed, during which Eve read a note, and her cousin played with the leaves of a book.
"I wish I knew your real opinion of us, Eve," the last suddenly exclaimed. "Why not be frank with so near a relative; tell me honestly, now--are you reconciled to your country?"
"You are the eleventh person who has asked me this question, which I find very extraordinary, as I have never quarrelled with my country."
"Nay, I do not mean exactly that. I wish to hear how our society has struck one who has been educated abroad."
"You wish, then, for opinions that can have no great value, since my experience at home, extends only to a fortnight. But you have many books on the country, and some written by very clever persons; why not consult them?"
"Oh! you mean the travellers. None of them are worth a second thought, and we hold them, one and all, in great contempt."
"Of that I can have no manner of doubt, as one and all, you are constantly protesting it, in the highways and bye-ways. There is no more certain sign of contempt, than to be incessantly dwelling on its intensity!"
Grace had great quickness, as well as her cousin, and though provoked at Eve's quiet hit, she had the good sense and the good nature to laugh.
"Perhaps we do protest and disdain a little too strenuously for good taste, if not to gain believers; but surely, Eve, you do not support these travellers in all that they have written of us?"
"Not in half, I can assure you. My father and cousin Jack have discussed them too often in my presence to leave me in ignorance of the very many political blunders they have made in particular."
"Political blunders!--I know nothing of them, and had rather thought them right, in most of what they said about our politics. But, surely, neither your father nor Mr. John Effingham corroborates what they say of our society!"
"I cannot answer for either, on that point."
"Speak then for yourself. Do you think them right?"
"You should remember, Grace, that I have not yet seen any society in New-York."
"No society, dear!--Why you were at the Henderson's, and the Morgan's, and the Drewett's; three of the greatest réunions that we have had in two winters!"'
"I did not know that you meant those unpleasant crowds, by society."
"Unpleasant crowds! Why, child, that is society, is it not?'
"Not what I have been taught to consider such; I rather think it would be better to call it company."
"And is not this what is called society in Paris?"
"As far from it as possible; it may be an excrescence of society; one of its forms; but, by no means, society itself. It would be as true to call cards, which are sometimes introduced in the world, society, as to call a ball given in two small and crowded rooms, society. They are merely two of the modes in which idlers endeavour to vary their amusements."
"But we have little else than these balls, the morning visits, and an occasional evening, in which there is no dancing."
"I am sorry to hear it; for, in that case, you can have no society."
"And is it different at Paris--or Florence, or Rome?"
"Very. In Paris there are many houses open every evening to which one
