 Chapter 1 of The Fortune Hunter, a novel of New York society. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Kelly Taylor. www.tla.wapshotpress.org The Fortune Hunter. By Anna Koromovic. Chapter 1. You've displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting with most admired disorder. Macbeth. Money is power, tis said Halleck. Try a wing of this partridge, Ellery. These are the first of the season. You don't eat. Thank you. I prefer discussing this wall of, ah, a favorite dish of mine. By the way, I dare say also will do justice to your delicate partridges. Certainly, my dear fellow, there's nothing like partridge prepared by one of these French cooks. Food for the gods decided they. Give me half of one. Three young men were seated round a table, spread with Epicurean vines, and one of the private rooms of Delmonico's sumptuous establishment. I said young men, but the term could only be applied pa compliaules to the eldest, Mr. Joseph Ellery, or it should be considered in the application as descriptive rather of his appearance than years. The first leaf of his worthy father's family-bible would probably have proclaimed that he had seen the ripe maturity of forty in days long past, but as that tell-tale page had been carefully destroyed, as the ladies pronounced Mr. Ellery an accomplished beau, and as he was in the habit of designating himself as a gar-sol, and more than this, as the united skill of Grand-Jean, and Parmle, and Derby, and Trion had been called into action to preserve the bloom of his youth unimpaired, I was only following the example of the fashionable world in ranking him with the young men. The gentleman on his left, who he addressed as Alsup, was one of that large class of young men about town, whose characters are the most difficult to draw because there are no landmarks at which you can begin, inoffensive creatures who seek for pleasure whatever they can find it, and harm nobody so much as themselves. You may describe their well-cut coats, their slender canes, the moustaches they are daily supplicating to give expression to their lips, the color of their hair and eyes, but the features of the internal soul too seldom display themselves to be caught and commemorated. Next to Mr. Alsup, and apparently doing the honors of the table, sat his friend Augustus Brainerd. The expression of his face was social, sensual, jovial and reckless. The twinkle of his bright dark eye seemed to say, an easy life, a short one if you like, but a merry one for me. His features were all tolerably fine, and after he had paid an hour's devotion to the mirror they might have been called handsome. His face was full and unfurrowed, a profusion of brownish hair, though carefully training, had been taught to curl about his low, narrow forehead, and a pair of thrifty whiskers, rather strongly inclined to be an auburn hue, formed a not very imperfect semi-circle around his cheeks and chin. He was tall and finely formed, his manners polished in the extreme, and always carried about him plenty of the small change current in conversation, but was almost as deficient in banknotes as his own purse. The lively conversation, with which the gentlemen were discussing their dinner, gave more relish to their food than all Del Monaco's Picante Sausage. Ellery had commenced one of his most amusing stories, and Brainerd had just cut the cork of the first bottle of Coe, which flew toward the ceiling with an exhilarating sound, when one of the French waiters, bowing himself into the room, announced that a gentleman wanted to see Monsieur Brenard on one particular business. What is his name, demanded Brainerd, rather petulately. He not sinned his name, Monsieur. He say his name not no matter. I have no particular business with anybody. Tell him I am engaged with some special friends, and he must call at my rooms. Oui, Monsieur, but I do tell him so once myself, and he seemed very anxious to come up. Given my message, I shall see nobody. The waiter had hardly closed the door before voices from without were heard, engaged in argument. In a moment he reappeared. Monsieur Brainerd, he says he is one of your friend's most intime, and that you will always rejoice very much to see him. He say he must see you, and he not go, wait till he do. Tell him to go to the devil. Do not admit him on any consideration. Be sure that you see him safe out of the house yourself. Oui, Monsieur. And the waiter turned to the door and placed his hand upon the knob, but it opened without his assistance, and with such un-gentle force that it was with some difficulty he escaped being knocked down. Ah, Brainerd, my dear fellow, how do you do? I knew you'd be glad to see me. I would not send in my name by one of those French jaconapes, for they always murder the President's English, you know. How do you do, gentlemen? The rosy hue, which half a bottle of fine old Madeira had materially deepened, fled from Brainerd's cheeks, as he looked up at the salutation of a voice familiar as the grinding organ which played every morning beneath his window, and, like it, alas, always set to the same tune. Mr. Brainerd rose from his chair, his particular acquaintance limped confidently into the room, very dexterously managing a clubfoot and a stiff elbow, and at the same time fixing upon Brainerd his light-piercing gray eye with an expression almost benevolent as he extended his hand. The half-outstretched hand of Mr. Brainerd was quickly seized and honored with a vigorous shake. Mr. Badger, how, commencing Brainerd, I am quite well, thank you. Don't disturb yourself, sit down. Servant told me you were engaged, but I fancy I smelt dinner, and thought, if you had no objections, I'd take a plate with you, these gentlemen. Friends of yours, I suppose, introduce me. Mr. Badger, I am really especially engaged this afternoon. Don't speak of it. I can wait. No particular business on foot. These two are three hours. When we've finished dinner, we'll talk at leisure. Partridge is a, ducks, oyster pallies, champagne, a great country, this country for good living. Who treats you, eh? Certainly, certainly, and let me help you, replied Brainerd, endeavoring to resume his composure. These are my friends, Mr. Ellery, Mr. Alsup, say no more, exclaimed Mr. Badger placidly. Mr. Ellery, how do you do, Alsup, your help? Gentlemen, here's to our better acquaintance. The toast was drunk very innocently by Mr. Alsup, but Mr. Ellery made an involuntary rye face as he began to feel that he knew quite enough of the gentleman to satisfy him. Mr. Badger helped himself bountifully to a vast number of dishes, filled his tumbler instead of the narrow-necked champagne glass with the sparkling and foaming beverage, drew his chair close to the table, and made himself quite at home, begging the other gentleman with an impressive suavity peculiar to himself to do the same. A casual observer might well have believed him to be the entertainer instead of a self-invited guest. Mr. Brainer looked on as though the highly-seasoned Veyons had given him a waking nightmare, but Mr. Ellery, after the first moment's surprise, seemed to perfectly understand what was going on and became more at ease than any other of the party. Mr. Badger accepted. When the conversation flagged with the other gentleman, Mr. Badger sustained it with enviable facility in spite of his mouth being full. This champagne is sublime, sublime! Brainer'd help me to another glass, my dear fellow. Been in this room before I think eight partridges in this very room with a gentleman last September, poor fellow hung himself in a fit of the blues just week after I saw to it his clothes being sold though to pay a bad debt I had against him. No gray business that. Did a better thing this morning. Sublime success! Brainer, do you know Trousdel, the Methodist clergyman? Quite well, he is a man of great talent. I venerate his virtues. Quite right, man of talent, great talent, great virtues, particular friend of mine. Well, about a week ago, Gorham, the bootmaker, honored me with a bill of twenty dollars to collect against him. Went to see him, couldn't pay. Called next day on his pretty wife, fine woman, finest eyes in New York, got on the tender side of her. She promised to make her husband pay called again the next day. Wouldn't see me. Well, kept quite quiet till Sunday came. That was yesterday. Went to church early, like going to church. Trousdel was to preach, got a seat in the first pew right straight in front of the pulpit, sat quiet through prayers till Trousdel got up in the pulpit to preach. Then didn't I lean forward and rest my elbows on the front of the pew and hold my chin up with both hands? And didn't I fix my eyes upon him? Never stirred them once. Looked right straight into the middle of his forehead like the magnetizers do. No preaching that day. No preaching at all. Dried to do it. But I had my eye on him and he didn't know what he was driving at. Everybody said it was the shortest sermon they'd ever heard. People went away. I kept his still as a mouse until he came down from that pulpit. Then bolt up to him. I went and thanked him for such a good sermon. Didn't he look pale and red? But he answered quiet as a lamb. Then I asked him in a whisper, what time he would see me tomorrow? Nine o'clock, he says. And I, away I went, called him this morning just as the clock was striking nine, came to the door himself looking doleful as though he was going to read a burial service. I put Bill in his hand. He put the money in his mind and put his hand on my shoulder. God bless you, my son, says he. Amen cries I. Great country this. Fine preachers. Fine preachers. Mr. Badger finished his discourse. More to give himself leisure to finish the dish before him than because he had no more to add on this interesting subject. Mr. Ellery interrupted the silence by saying, quite a maneuver of yours very skillfully done. Mr. Brainer added some faint praise upon Mr. Badger's skill, but Mr. Alsop, who was beginning to feel ennuié, looked about for his hat and walking stick and politely apologized for tearing himself from such agreeable company. Talking a business, Brainer, said Mr. Badger, now that I think of it, I have a little business with you. Don't go, Mr. Ellery, nothing private, merely a small bill of Mr. Scofields that I'll just trouble Mr. Brainer to look over while we're finishing this bottle. Mr. Badger laid the bill in front of Mr. Brainer's plate, took up his brimming glass, and as he slowly sipped its contents, looked at Mr. Brainerd from out of the extreme corners of his eyes, smacking his lips every once a while as though the last tumbler of champagne afforded him even superior enjoyment to all the others. Badger, I'll pay you next week, said Brainerd at length. Thank you, my dear fellow, very obliging, but next week won't do. Mr. Scofield can't wait any longer, hopes to take a look at the dust tonight. I have a great mind to pitch you out the window and make you take a bite of it, muttered Brainerd, but in a moment he said, Badger, don't be a gnarled upon a poor fellow, I have an a-V in my pocket to bless myself with. First-rate dinner, this said Badger, abstractly gnawing the bone of a partridge which he took from the plate. Fine partridges, first I've tasted this season. Come on me, Wednesday, Badger, and I'll do my best to settle it. What hour, dear fellow, I'd like to be punctual, you know. At twelve o'clock. You said you'd like to settle, I think. I will make an effort. Oh, don't let there be any mistake. Haven't much to do on Wednesday can see you any hour about this little business all day long, if you please. Very well. Call at twelve. Twelve precisely. Good afternoon, Mr. Ellery. I must be going along. Good afternoon, my dear Brainerd. Wednesday at twelve. No mistake. Don't forget twelve. Mr. Badger, to the great relief of Ellery and Brainerd, left the two friends together. That's rather a troublesome acquaintance of yours, Brainerd. Can you contrive no way to get rid of him? The only way is to pay him. But the way to pay him, is that so easy? Not with me, just at the present, I assure you. Since Mr. Badger has given you a little insight into the state of my private affairs, and you seem to take some interest in the subject, perhaps if I draw the veil entirely, you may find it in your power to do me a service. Certainly, certainly. That is to say, if my counsel can be of any service to you, I shall be desirous of proving my friendship, as for any other mode, on my honour. My resources are as slender as my wants are the opposite. The champagne and Mr. Badger have made me communicative. And I have an inclination to forestall you by giving a short history of my own circumstances, before I am initiated into yours. I pass with the world at large, as with yourself, for a man of means, that is to say, I dress well, live well, and often seen in places of public amusement, frequently in fashionable society, and take his special pains to run no risk of being visited by Mr. Badger, or any of him's contemporaries. All this I managed to do on the very narrowest income imaginable, left me by a maiden aunt, whose all the fancies I humoured for some fifteen years before her death. My only secret is this, I never waste small change in any luxuries myself, while I can make anyone else purchase my society by procuring them for me. When I dine at Delmonico's, it is always with a friend, Eche signum. When I attend a ball, I usually take a seat in the cab of some special acquaintance, who has a particular objection to soiling his boots. My tailor takes a reasonable discount, because I am careful to introduce him to all the rich young blades about town. The Astor house I call my headquarters, because it is respectable. And I always dine there, when, by some mischance, I find myself without an invitation. I lodge in Vese Street, occupy a suite of pretty bachelor apartments, which rent for a mere trifle, breakfast I prepare for myself, a cup of coffee and a hot roll, tea I always take with one or the other of my lady friends, with a little economy I find no difficulty in making both ends meet. And now I have fairly let you behind the scenes. I have treasons for doing so. First, I perceive you are about to do as much for me, and secondly, I foresee that we are going to be sworn friends, and a mutual service to one another. I am afraid you will have to give up the idea of my being of service to you when you hear my story. Not at all. I wish to be perfectly candid. If in the end you do not prove serviceable, it will be my own fault. There is no tie-like interest. Therefore this confession should give you greater confidence in my friendship, but to your confession. I am a Baltimorean, as you already know. My father, who was an importing merchant, died a little more than four years ago, leaving me a clear 50,000. Until the time of his death I had been his head clerk, and might have continued his business, had it been to my taste, it was not. I sold out and travelled south. Two years and a half I lived, I may say lived, for I enjoyed all the good things of life upon my 50,000. At the end of that consternation I found my account at the bank overdrawn. The next six months I got along well enough on credit. After that it was hard fighting. To cut a long story short, I came to New York two months ago because I was unknown here and because I heard some strange accounts of your good citizens who lived by their wits which made me suppose that even I could weather the storm in such a congenial atmosphere. It was only lately that I became aware of the existence of persons such as Mr. Badger. And now I suppose you know about as much as I can tell you. You are right, but the question is, how are you to extricate yourself from your difficulties? That question I cannot instantly solve. There is such a place as Wall Street, you know, I might make a fortune in a few months by dealing in stocks, or I might take a ticket and draw the prize of some secret lotteries, or I might borrow a few hundreds from some obliging friends, or you might hit upon a better plan than any of these. Wall Street is the place to lose fortunes, not make them. Lotteries yield blanks oftener than prizes. Your obliging friend you would find a more troublesome acquaintance than Mr. Badger himself. I have something sureer to propose. Suppose you take a ticket in the lottery of Hyman. I was going to say love and draw a rich wife. Have you any objections? Not in the slightest, if she will take me. I suppose such a thing is to be had easily if you manage your car to droidly. Remember, you want a wife with good moral qualifications, as the dandies say, and a liberal father-in-law, or better yet no father-in-law at all. That is all that a man of sense in your circumstances should desire. Assuredly I could not request anything more. Well, then, to the business. I have a large circle of exactly the kind of acquaintances necessary for you in New York. I shall find no difficulty in introducing you and at the same time watching your proceedings. I am particularly fond of any little affair of that kind, which keeps my interest alive. What do you say? That I am your debtor forever if you succeed. Not so. If you do succeed, the obligation will be very easily cancelled. We have no time to lose in putting your plan into execution. Let me see. Memzell Calvet plays at Neblos tonight. All the fashionables will be there. So will all the good religious people who think that the theatre, where Shakespeare's noble dramas are represented, a shocking place. But we'll look upon Neblos' little stage, his vaudevilles and rope-dancers, as perfectly proper. Suppose we pass the evening there and you try your luck at losing your heart. I'm afraid, but I thought hearts had nothing to do with the matter. Why, I presumed you would fancy it more agreeable if you could manage to lose your heart while you were getting a lining to your pocket. For my own part, I believe love has very little to do with happiness if a man has positively determined that he will be happy in spite of the circumstances. Nine love matches out of ten in indifference were disliked, and if a woman from wise considerations you are only beginning where the lover ends and stand a chance of ending where he begins. At all events you obtain your object for which you are married, which he seldom does. But to not love a woman with whom you are forced to live, not to love, what is not to love? I will tell you, it is not to be certain of quarreling with your wife, or of being jealous of her, or of having her jealous of you, it is not to begin the day with strife and end it with tears and protestations and reconciliations. I have no doubt you are right, and I admire your philosophy. But the clock has struck eight. Had we better not be on our way to neblos. At all, I am ready. The performance had commenced and the two gentlemen arrived at neblos, and the crowd was so dense that they could with difficulty obtain seats. Brainerd directed his opera glass to the pit rather than to the stage, and commenced questioning Ellery about the numerous pretty faces around them. Pray, who may that be? he began. But, oh, Miss Blank, a young girl in whom you must not get interested, nobody of consequence with Ellery's frequent reply. Why, my friend, you are selecting all the beauties and seem to have forgotten that we are here on business. I see I must relinquish listening to the divine call they and must play as modious for your special benefit. Look to your right in the third box from the stage, front bridge. Do you see the young lady leaning against the column? The one in the Quaker-coloured silk dress, with the hair that the painters called all-born, but the common people brownish-red, a nose decidedly and irretrievably snub, mouth shaped like the letter O, an unhealthy-looking complexion, a small narrow eyes and lids that make a vain attempt to force themselves open. Pardon my honour, fate ought to have made her an heiress to make up for the pleasantries of nature. You surely do not select her for the future Mrs. Brainerd. You must decide upon that. She is the daughter of a very wealthy gentleman of the city, a hardware merchant who has retired from business. The young men estimate her moral qualities at about $100,000. Look at her again. Now as she speaks, I observe she has fine teeth and a very pleasing smile. But how should I ever reconcile myself to the total son? Think of Mr. Badger and her fortune will do that. Is she an only child? No, she has one sister a few years younger, about sixteen I would suppose. She is sitting directly behind her. Oh, I see her. Really a very pretty girl. Fair skin, fine colour, blue eyes, rather heavy and mournful looking, though. A profusion of light hair, hanging rather too carelessly about her neck and shoulders. But how strangely she is dressed in opposition to all the rules of fashion. There is something odd about her altogether. Her head leans on one side and the expression of her countenance is exceedingly languid or else affected. The latter most probably. You would have to play a deep game to win her and trust a great deal to luck. She fancies herself a heroine and is in reality something of a coquette. An excessive and unrestrained indulgence and novel reading has spurred her head, if not her heart. She is becoming intoxicated with romance and requires this stimulus as much as the inebriate does his daily dram. She is a creature full of sentiment and sensibility, living on the very breath of excitement. Who has sick-lead a really fine understanding with too highly seasoned food? She believes every man to be her lover and every woman her persecutor. She inflicts imaginary woes upon herself for the sake of imaginary pleasures, and a scene is her delight. I have known her from childhood, and I believe the errors of her education are attributable to a weak-minded mother who adores her, and the neglect of a father wholly engrossed by business occupations, and to the pernicious influence of a fashionable boarding school. But her fortune, that will be equal to her sister's. Ah, yes, but she will not be easily one. You will have to seem to suffer for her, to be persecuted for her. You must turn hero to obtain such a heroine. Trust me for all that. Then, as a wife, she will not be the amiable sensible person which you would expect to find in her elder sister. But her elder sister is a fright. Really, I cannot think of her, that is, unless the younger one rejects me. Pray, by what names am I to designate these two ladies? The Mrs. Clinton, Rachel and Esther, Estelle, I should say, for by that name the younger chooses of late years to be called, I am an intimate friend of the family and will introduce you to-morrow, but you would better prepare yourself by reading Madame de Stoll's Quirin, or writing some scraps of poetry by her. Never fear, you will find me accomplished in my part, quickly responded Brainerd. A few moments' silence ensued during which Brainerd appeared to be contemplating the lady whom he destined for his future wife. Suddenly, however, he sees the arm of his friend with some violence. Ellery, look at the beautiful creature who sits next but one to Miss Clinton. Was there ever anything so perfectly lovely? Is she not of the same party? Pray, tell me who she is. Take care, Brainerd. Remember, hearts have nothing to do with a matter. She is no wife for you. To be more explicit, she has not yet discovered herself to possess any family spoons. No. But what a Grecian head! What shining dark hair! How classically it is braided around her forehead, what radiant eyes! Is not there expression angelic? Did you ever see a happier face? Everything passing upon the stage seems reflected under her countenance as in a mirror with what childlike glee she laughs and turns to the gentleman next to her. Who could help admiring such naivete, such beauty? Remember, Badger? Sure. Tell me who she is, Ellery. I can admire her without care. Can I not? Her name is Walton. Her history is a rather interesting one. When quite a child she was placed by her uncle under the care of Mr. and Mrs. Lemming who then kept a very excellent seminary for young ladies. The Mrs. Clinton were her schoolmates and an intimacy arose between them and Miss Walton, which continued until the Clintons were removed for the last four years of their education to Mrs. O'Kill's more fashionable boarding school. Miss Walton is the age of Esther. The Lemmings have given up school, but she still remains with them for her uncle is a most singular individual and she has neither mother or father. This uncle, Mr. Maudaunt, about 18 years ago was a highly esteemed and talented lawyer who everybody expected would in a few years be at the head of his profession. I knew him well. He was an agreeable fellow in society but passionate and revengeful in the extreme. Suddenly everything seemed to go wrong with him. He neglected his business through moody and silent and seemed to take no further interest in the affairs of life. This position has continued until the present day. As far as I am acquainted, he never had but one brother and a sister, both of whom died suddenly, 16 or 17 years ago. They were both unmarried yet he calls this child his niece and it is presumed she is merely an adopted one. Although he is now a hard featured, morose looking man, the resemblance between him and Miss Walton is so strong that I have heard it whispered that she is his illegitimate daughter. This I think more than probable although he never shows her the slightest fatherly affection. He is a bachelor and owns a three-story house near the battery where he lives with one old family servant. The lowest story of the house is the only part ever used. The rest remains unopened and uninhabited this many year. He receives no friends and visits none. His circumstances are desperate in spite of his talents which appear of late years to be completely paralyzed. His only property is the house of which I speak. Many advantageous offers have been made to him if he would sell this house, but he seems determined to refuse them all. Yet the comforts of a home he never enjoys for Miss Walton continues to reside with the Lemmings. What a brute he must be, and she is not bewitchingly beautiful. Yes, but since I have convinced you that she does not possess the requisite qualifications for you, her beauty is of little importance," answered the money-seeking Ellery. Reynard sighed. Fixed his attention a few minutes on the stage and, when his head turned again, it was to contemplate the fair Esther. Who is this young man beside Miss Esther? Estelle, I should say. The son of Dr. Chadwick an inaminent surgeon of the city. An elegant-looking fellow, truly, is he playing his addresses to Miss Estelle? Not that I am aware of. He seems more fascinated with the lovely Miss Walton. Uselessly so, however, for his family who belong to our elites would never consent to the match. For the rest of the evening Reynard devoted his attention to Madame Moselle Calvet and seemed to hear nothing but her thrilling voice until the curtain fell. As he was passing from the illuminated garden to the street with Ellery, he found himself directly behind the Clintons. Their elegant private carriage was standing at the entrance, but, as usual, there was some difficulty with who were furiously whipping their horses and swearing at each other, in total regard of everybody present. Just as Esther's foot was on the step of her father's carriage, the whip of a half-intoxicated coachman accidentally struck one of the highly meddled horses attached to it. Instantly he began to plunge in rear springing towards the sidewalk. Quick! His reign, quick! Catch the horse's reign and you are made! Pushing Reynard forward, Reynard comprehended him and, thrusting aside a couple of gentlemen who were going to offer their assistance, he rushed up to the rearing animal and seized him boldly by the reign. The horse instantly became quiet, but Reynard, who knew his position was a graceful one, remained, forcibly holding up the creature's head with his eyes fixed upon Esther. That young lady tottered backward and looked as though she thought this a very proper occasion to faint, but had not fully concluded upon doing so. Reynard's position and timely aid were not, however, lost upon her and when he ventured to come forward and hand her into her carriage she raised her eyes to his with an expression which Fanny Kimball might have studied and murmured. My deliverer! Bravo, Reynard! exclaimed Ellery. Fortune has made up her mind to smile upon you that the little scene made more impression on the fair lady's heart that a five month courtship could have done. Tomorrow you must call upon her with me to inquire as to the state of her health after her terrible accident. Do not forget you saw her extreme peril and that your arm is the consequence of protecting her. Suppose you wear it in a sling. As you please, tonight we tried the graceful. Tomorrow we assume the interesting. Anything to escape having one's digestion injured by Mr. Badger. End of Chapter 1 Chapter 2 of The Fortune Hunter A novel of New York society by Anna Cora Mollett. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Kelly S. Taylor. O blessed with temper whose unclouded ray can make tomorrow cheerful as today. Pope. Light from her makes many phrases bright. Taylor. A few days after the evening spent at Neblos, Miss Clinton alighted from her carriage at the door of Mr. Lemming. She entered without ringing and was ascending the stairs when the parlor door opened and a sharp visage faced peered forth. Who's there? Oh, is it you, Miss Clinton? Rachel's ears were familiar with that harsh shrill voice yet it sounded so unexpected from behind her by Mrs. Lemming. Is Miss Walton at home? Yes, she is in her chamber. Will you not walk into the parlor? She added in a more courteous tone at the same time opening the door sufficiently for the whole of her tall, grand and shrill person to become visible. Thank you, I will go to Aria's chamber. It's always Aria's chambered muttered Mrs. Lemming as she shut up the door gently. One would suppose there was nobody living in the house but Miss Aria. They will find some day who is Mistress here and will have to look up for their pretty favorite somewhere else I can tell them. Rachel, with a quicken step ascended to the third story and, without knocking, entered the apartment of her friend. Her step was so light and she could not help pausing on the threshold to contemplate the chastely beautiful tableau before her. The room was small but what perfect neatness reigned throughout and how much of the character of its occupant could be read in its little arrangements. The floor boasted no better covering than a rag carpet and there were but two rickety chairs against the wall. The narrow, trundle bed in one corner was adorned with a patchwork quilt representing the rising sun, the work of Aria's own hands. A miniature stand and another corner held a tumbler filled with flowers, its base surrounded by a circle of evergreen moss among which some golden-hued beach-shells were fence-fully embedded. Several fine engravings were nailed to the wall and wide black tape bands were neatly fastened around them an ingenious substitute for frames. A picture immediately over the bed represented Raphael's Messiah and directly above it hung a wreath which at first glance might have been taken for a delicate painting. Rachel knew that it was not so for she had seen the flowers cold, pressed in a manner to retain their color, then carefully attached with a pollucid gum to paper and after that the paper cut away leaving a crown of natural flowers the hues of which remained unperishing. At the foot of the bed was a small hanging library well-filled and beneath it a large box crowned with books for which there was no other repository. The window was open and a rude shelf without it held a dozen pots of monthly roses, minunets and geraniums. A canary bird was singing in a wicker cage which was fastened to the shutter and in front of him on a low bench set Arya. The loose white robe slightly girdled at the waist showed to advantage the outlines of her slender but well-developed figure and formed exactly the contrast to her dark and simply knotted hair which a painter would have desired. She was looking over her work every once a while raising her head to look at the canary and imitating his notes with a low murmuring sound as she plied her needle. Why, Arya, have you eyes for your canary alone said Rachel after her pause? Dear Rachel, have you indeed come to spend the morning? How kind in you! I have come to visit your bower as you would call it and indeed, dear Arya, even such unromantic persons as you and I might apply that term to your little chamber without its being more poetical than appropriate and the bower has more than one bird in it. We will make it a bower of joy then said Arya gaily and the songs of the bird shall always be blithe but throw off your hat and watch there. Now lean back against the cornice and you will find the seat about as convenient as an arm chair. You see, I study comfort. Other people's comfort you have always studied and my own too. Besides, I take comfort in seeing others comfortable. Have you brought your work? To be sure. Do you suppose I would venture into a hive of a bee and I shall think you are showing your sting in the hive if you laugh at the restless quality that keeps me always employed. Now confess, can there be anything more agreeable than for two friends who love each other as we do to be shut up together in a cozy little chamber such as this with our fingers and our tongues equally employed opening our hearts to each other whenever we open our lips and chat half so freely or naturally if our hands were idle? As for me I should find some difficulty in keeping mine away from mischief. There was a time when I might not have comprehended your argument but as of late you have quite inoculated me with your industrious mania. Pray, how came you by it? My industry as you call it is partly constitutional and partly springs from the conviction that our time in this world is at best so short that we ought to take advantage of every minute. Tell me dear Arya, what is the reason that you always look so smiling and happy? How do you manage to take an interest in everybody and everything? How comes it that you find enjoyment everywhere? How am I going to answer all these questions without showing a great deal of vanity? However my vanity shall not interfere with your wishes. In the first place then you must know that I have a thousand everyday causes and sources of happiness. What are they? You are not rich. You are an orphan. Your uncle is forgive me, a tyrant. You live secluded. You are forced to work for yourself. Make all your own clothes. You are stop, stop, cry Arya placing her delicate hand over the mouth of her friend. Am I not young and in help? Have I not friends who love me and opportunities of enjoying their society? Have I not books and time and inclination to read them? Have I not the most invaluable of guardians, the best counselor and friend in Mr. Lemming? As for my uncle you do him an injustice. He permits me almost always to do as I like. And you know some wise person has said the only way to please a woman is to let her have her will. But these are the things enough to make you happy. One secret of my happiness is I never suffer myself to be idle. If anything a noise agrees me, after trying to philosophize, do not be frightened at that long word upon it for a while and to try to find out what good may proceed from it I take up an interesting book and forcibly fix my attention on that or I busy myself with my needle or employ myself in any way that occasion offers. I believe that almost anybody may be happy or at least contented who earnestly desires to be so who feels convinced that God placed his creatures on earth for their enjoyment here and that they might so perfect themselves as to be capable of higher enjoyment hereafter and that almost all their misery proceeds from the violation of physical, civil or divine laws. I am indebted to kind Mr. Lemming for many of my ideas on this subject. I have been taught to believe that any yielding to discontent and morbid melancholy is an actual sin that is so molded the spirit as to render it less capable of happiness and consequently more susceptible of misery and that this impulse communicated to the soul would affect our future as well as our present life. Yet it is not always possible to resist a sensation of depression and weariness perhaps not when that sensation springs from physical causes but if from mental causes it is possible. Are we not most apt to find what we look for? If I should ever keep it in mind to observe how many sources of evil there are in life I should probably contemplate nothing but misery but my inclination led me to observe the sources of happiness for enjoyment everywhere. Do you remember the anecdote of the painting which some Italian artists put in the marketplace desiring everybody who looked upon it to point out its defects when he came for his painting at Nightfowl he found every part of the drapery and every feature marked as defective the next day he placed it in the same position desiring those who passed by without its beauties again he found his painting covered with marks but they were of approbation something to admire had been discovered in every touch which on the previous day had been condemned so it is that we find exactly what we look for but tell me Aria have you never any causes of unhappiness for which you do not seek I have a few causes that would make me unhappy if I permitted them to do so but will you not tell them to me I do not ask out of mere curiosity I have been reflecting a great deal on these subjects as of late and I wish to judge of the justice of your assertions I am an orphan and I often feel the absence of a mother's love my heart yearns to know something to form some idea of her who gave me birth that I may think of her and love her as a bright and holy being dwelling in heaven but when I attempt to speak on this subject to my uncle he silences me with sternness for that uncle too I feel an affection which he never permits me to express I long to do something to cheer his gloom to be more frequently with him that I may exert a happier influence over him it gives me pain not to be beloved and I cannot but realize that he has no tenderness for me and then I know he is embarrassed in his circumstances and that my expenses here make a troublesome call upon his purse I lately propose to him that he should permit me to become a teacher in some school but he rejected my proposition with indignation I am a burden upon him and I am becoming one upon Mr. Lemming in as much as my uncle is somewhat in his debt then I am in want of many little necessities with which I can ill dispense and I have no means of supplying myself I had none until Dr. Chadwick kindly procured me a ticket for the ladies depository so that I am unable to dispose of the produce of my needle without troubling my uncle or wounding his pride look is not this scarf beautifully embroidered I really took pleasure in forming these roses it is for the depository do you think it will sell yes yes but go on with the causes of your unhappiness well then I I really believe I have enumerated all let me see oh yes yes then I am very fond of society of social intercourse of the opera, concerts, etc with the exception of your family my uncle forbids me to pay any visits unaccompanied by him and as for concerts and opera I know but little of them but then your society is a great deal my bird makes good music at home there now I have enumerated all my woes and grievances they do not make a very formidable array but are you satisfied is this all yes all I can remember you have forgotten Mrs. Lemming's harsh position her habitual unkindness towards you I believe it would kill me to live in this house with such a woman you wrong her she is not unkind it is her way that is to say her manners are a little peculiar and if you think of her causes which impaired her disposition you could easily forgive her she is childless if she had become a mother had she a child it would inherit the property left by her aunts which must otherwise descend to some very distant branches of the family I find this no excuse for her peevish humor and her dislike to be beholding to the happiness of others but think of how good Mr. Lemming is yes he adores you envy your temperament I have none of your sources of discontent yet I am not half so cheerful but then I have one annoyance which you have not nature has made me so very very ugly and you you are so beautiful she exclaimed gazing admiringly upon her friend oh no Rachel answered Arya with energy not ugly how could anyone be ugly with such a lovely soul as yours does not Shakespeare say in nature there's no blemish but the mind and that virtue is beauty you are not ugly to those who love you you were never ugly to me in spite of Rachel's homely feature less partial eyes than those of Arya at that moment upon her as not ugly her light grey eyes generally so dim looking and languid were illumined by an expression of admiring affection and the smile about her ill shaped mouth disclosed teeth of brilliant whiteness while it animated every feature of her face besides this the winning sweetness of her voice forced you to think of the beautiful internal which lent a charm even to so plain an exterior you are partial Arya but I am ugly and I have some reason to feel it bitterly my nurse used to call me a little fright my very mother has reproached me for my ill looks and in earlier years refused me the finery with which she decked out my younger sister sometimes I have felt like a criminal for being so ugly and thought that even the eyes of strangers could not rest upon me without pity I almost hated myself many and many a time when quite a child have I made grimaces at the homely visage which my mirror reflected and turned from it with tears of anger I could not comprehend why Esther should have been so fair and I so devoid of charms I have tried and partially succeeded in conquering these feelings my unprepossessing appearance makes me so dissatisfied with myself and with everybody else that I am utterly wretched what a very crooked magnifying glass that pair of eyes yours must be but even if you were the frightful person that you imagine yourself what matters the covering with which your spirit is to wear but a few years when death comes you throw it off and your spirit rises in the holy loveliness with which your virtues have endued it transcendentally beautiful forever why should you care of what texture of your body may be when your soul which is yourself becomes peerlessly lovely through your own acts do you believe then that the soul has a form or a shape any more than ether has how could I believe otherwise have not the angels which the Bible tells us have appeared to men been in the form of human beings were not Moses and Elijah seen by the disciples in the form of men the vulgar idea is that the soul re-enters the material body on the judgment day but the judgment day had not come that is the judgment day many expect to believe every man's judgment comes immediately after his death if our spirits were but ether how could they in another world exercise the faculties which they have enjoyed here and what would existence be without those faculties that we can possess them independent of the senses natural sonamulism proves for in that state all the senses are laid asleep yet the spirit operates the natural eye is closed or if it be open it is sightless yet the eyes of the spirit take cognizance of the objects by which it is surrounded and even penetrate distances which no natural vision could reach I look upon the body as not more necessary to the soul not more a part of it than your dress is part of your body it is entirely beautiful the other becomes beautiful through our own efforts to conquer natural evil and implant good in its stead every good act then leads another charm to the spirit truly for such a fried as I am your doctrine should be quite an inducement to goodness but can there be any real goodness dear Rachel unless the motive is purely good if you performed any noble or charitable act from any other motive than because it was pleasing to God and out of genuine love for goodness apart from all considerations would the act be truly good I cannot see any objection to the truth of your reasoning and certainly your doctrine is a happy one and in harmony with the perfect justice which we believe to be in a special tribute to the creator do look at this bud have I not finished it quickly never call yourself ugly again will you I cannot promise but when I think myself so I will remember that my soul may possess charms which have been denied to my person was not that a carriage that stopped yes it is a still she is coming in when I left her she said she had some purchases to make and would come for me afterwards but why will you call her Estelle she likes it and why should I not the name which it pleases her best to hear is most agreeable for me to pronounce but it sounds affected it would not have sounded so to you if she had been christened by that name therefore the affectation is only ideal to call her as she desires is to gratify her in a very innocent way there you are certainly wrong for you encourage that romantic disposition of her which leads her Rachel was interrupted by the entrance of Esther lovely Aria sweet sister mine I am rejoiced to see you Aria rose to welcome and embrace Esther but she without returning the caress sank into a chair and fixed her eyes mournfully upon a garland of flowers which she held in her hand what a lovely wreath exclaimed Aria admiringly where did you get it I know not replied Esther without raising her eyes not where you got it from did it fall from the skies exclaimed Aria did you find it in the street said Rachel in the street replied her sister indignantly I received it from an unknown hand how did the unknown hand present it asked Rachel do gratify our curiosity good little Estelle Aria joined in remember we are only everyday mortals and are strongly prone to the failing of our mother Eve you shall be gratified replied Esther solemnly I had entered stewards the carriage stood at the door I was absent but a moment when I returned to see this garland lay upon the seat with this inscription attached to it as she uttered these last words she drew from her bosom a small slip of paper let us see the paper let us see the paper exclaimed Rachel and Aria simultaneously never the emotions of a feeling soul should not be profaned by the eyes of the world did you not ask the coachman who placed in the carriage inquired Rachel no I could not stoop to communicate with a menial on the subject she replied could you not guess from whom it came ask Aria as the carriage moved away I saw a face that was familiar to me it was that of Mr. Brainard the gentleman whom Mr. Ellery brought the evening with us asked Rachel yes, the one who so heroically stepped forward when my life was in danger and he rescued me and of course returned Rachel smiling you are duty bound to be eternally grateful to him the heart may not be forced replied Esther with a sigh drooping the lids of her really beautiful eyes I am glad sister that your heart is in that condition continued Rachel for my opinion of Mr. Brainard although I may be judging hastily is that his head and heart are equally light and that he is wanting in good sense and depth of feeling to balance either of them a noble nature incomprehensible to meaner souls replied Esther the sublime and pathetic tragically mingling themselves in her voice such is the inevitable decree of fate but it was never yet the fate of flowers to fade in my chamber for lack of attention said Aria springing up lightly and immersing the wreath in water before Esther could prevent her by the time that Aria had arranged flower in the garland to her liking and so disposed the leaves that the water should touch and refresh without injuring them Esther was apparently lost in a reverie her hands were clasped on her lap her head drooped on her bosom and her negligently arranged hair we beg pardon picturesquely arranged she would have called it fell about her shoulders and completely concealed her face Aria's smile was changed into a half sigh as she gazed upon her but she knew Esther's temperament too well to disturb her and quietly reseeded herself by the side of Rachel a few moments they plied their needles without speaking Rachel was the first to break the silence do you know, Aria that since I have not said to you half what I came here to say this morning to say and do you know I am afraid to go on, lest you should think I have caught some of Rachel's glance toward Esther made Aria divine the conclusion of the sentence before the words could be utter her finger was on Rachel's lip and her eyes bent hers with an expression that said spare her, you ought to spare her you need not be afraid to make any confidential communications to the grounds that I shall laugh at you she said aloud Goethe said that it was only necessary to grow old to become indulgent for that he saw no fault committed which he had not committed himself and I, without growing old have too often the same reason which the German had for tolerating the faults of others will you go on now I have come to the conclusion Rachel that I will not be made miserable in this world through my own folly I observe that most women are not calculated to live single and yet become wretched through marriage my father is reputed to be rich is rich, Esther and myself are therefore heiresses and as heiresses are sought after in a manner which we might be spared under ordinary circumstances even I in spite of these sandy locks in this unlovely exterior have not been without suitors who protested that my heart alone was what they desire fortunately I am under no delusion with respect to my person and I know the esteem in which my beauty is held I must trust all my pretended admirers they would wed not unalluring me but my father's more unalluring gold without that gold I should probably be free from all solicitations to me then riches are not a blessing I cannot conceive why old mage should be so odious a term I have this morning had a long conversation with my father in which I entreated him to make a will debarring me from all participation in his fortune beyond a very small competence and to make his determination publicly known after great entreaty he consented I shall now be able to test if any lover is as unalloyed as the gold which I have renounced and I run no further risk of being duped I have prepared myself to live ever as I am and I hope to prove that an old maid may at least be an amiable being ever willing to bestow pleasure in any way in her power and ever at leisure to serve those around her to sympathize with their pains and their pleasures and to find her joys in theirs what say you to my arrangements think you I have grown too romantic to be rational I think the determination to which you have arrived will render you happy and what are the riches if they could not bring you that happiness you do not think my resolution the effect of mere romance then ask Rachel only the romance of reality what is reality exclaimed Esther who appeared to hear but the last words there is nothing real but misery nothing is so ideal as self made misery sweet Estelle replied Aria winding her arm around Esther's neck and this little chamber I call my bower of joy therefore you must smile here the lip may smile and not the heart arts are troublesome things and I shall begin to think Estelle has lost hers and is mourning over her misfortune unless she cheers up but oh why did I not think of it before Rachel Estelle it is very pleasant to have you here but do you not think we had better spend a few more moments in the parlor Mrs. Limming does not quite seem to like your visiting me so frequently and never paying her deference of a call Mrs. Limming seldom likes anything I am afraid said Rachel I promise you she will like it if you pay her a visit this morning come Estelle will you go I think you I can have sympathy with a sour disposition of a Mrs. Limming there can be no harmonious interchange of thought and feeling between us and her jarring chords would spoil the music of my life come you may not have sympathy with her but you will pay her a visit to gratify me come I never take nay for an answer when I want to hear yay I am sure you will both go to oblige me so let's away Aria caught a hand of each of her friends and drew them toward the door with such a gentle but persuasive force that they could not but yield to her request Estelle with a deep drawn eye and Rachel without remonstrance for her new system of being an agreeable old maid probably prevented the display of any three visitors for Mrs. Limming exclaimed Aria gaily flinging the parlor door wide open permit me the honor of introducing them continued she in mimic formality Mrs. Lim she stopped suddenly for she had several steps into the room without observing that Mrs. Limming was not alone beside her said a young gentleman of three in twenty in stature he was somewhat below medium height but his formation was remarkably symmetrical and there was nothing about him which even the tongue of malice could call unmanly what was it but the spirit which could have given such countenance was strikingly handsome even beautiful yet not a liniment denoted a feminist see his head was a study for a painter and to have examined its developments would have been a delight to spurts sign nature's own hand clustered the dark curls around his high broad forehead genius had kindled the light of that mild hazel eye over which the elevated brows inclined to an arch but the special charm as far as mere features were concerned was in the mouth its expression was so gentle yet firm full of sweetness yet fuller of dignity and when a smile played about the lips it almost seemed as if flashes of light were darting over that serene countenance while they called forth a thousand beauties with every gleam your visits ladies were intended for me began mrs. lemming with no little quality of sarcasm in her tone especially miss aria's I presume pray be seated aria colored deeply but the salutation of the ladies and gentlemen passed over without mrs. lemming's remark being further noted Rachel seated herself beside mrs. lemming and mrs. Chadwick taking a chair between Estelle and aria commenced an animated conversation Estelle's manner toward him was marked by an air of tender languor as though his presence imparted to her a pleasure almost oppressive the instant her attention was for a moment diverted by mrs. lemming Chadwick turned to aria and said in a lower tone well I thank you for this goodness I was just despairing of seeing you the goodness was very unpremeditated you did not then know I was here not unless I discovered it by a species of magnetic intelligence but you do not regret finding me here I will know replied aria with a unaffected warmth add one word more say you are glad how often it is that there is more in a tone in which words are uttered than in the words themselves aria felt the full meaning which that melodious tone conveyed to her inmost soul she felt too what pleasure or what pain her answer could excite and she did not for a moment withhold a frank and ready oh yes mrs. Chadwick would have answered I spoke in half that his expressive countenance said for him but the door opened and aria sprang forward to greet the visitor that tall majestic form hardly bent to receive her embrace and the stern cold brow relaxed not at her offered kiss yet there was a lackness between the two in spite of the unlikeness produced by an entirely opposite expression the face, the large dark eyes rather deeply set the long lashes, the strongly marked eyebrows the purple darkness of the hair profuse and shining but this was all the one face good angels seem to have guarded from every furrowed trace by gnawing care and withering passion to have stamped it with their own infinite charity and love the other showed the scars of a spirit at war with all mankind of a soul blighted by evil passions brooding remorselessly over its own guilt uncle, dear uncle how long it has been since we have seen you have you been ill no was the laconic answer with which mr. Mordant took his seat apparently indisposed for further conversation aria placed herself beside him and as it was not in accordance with her nature to remain silent she prattled away although to an apparently inattentive ear meanwhile Esther had resumed her conversation with mr. Chadwick you do not usually visit in the morning said she no I brought this volume of Stevens travels to mr. Lemming he desired to see it and under that cover I had an excuse for an early morning visit a smile almost animated passed over Esther's face I thought you had some excuse but how came you to know that I was here I remember now I mentioned last night that I intended visiting aria today and you remembered it did you mr. Chadwick looked somewhat surprised and then perplexed at this direct question replied with a gallantry which did not become him so well as did his usual manner I always try to remember the words of a lady and you are so successful in making use of them but you might be pardoned what Esther is it not almost time for us to bid aria good morning it is nearly three and father so much dislikes to be kept waiting said Rachel why is it that there are beings to whom the sensual things of this life are all and all murmured Esther distinctly enough for mr. Chadwick to hear Rachel soon rose to take leave and Esther of course was obliged to accompanying her sister you have forgotten your wreath it matters not for I only remember the giver to think of the pain which I forcefully occasion him can I bring it to you as mr. Chadwick as he handed her into the carriage no though its value would then be more than doubled mr. Chadwick could not but bow in acknowledgement of these words the dose was closed to the horses and Esther's white handkerchief waved from the window until a bend in the street hit her from his sight she is an enigma I wonder if she knows her own meaning muse mr. Chadwick as he re-entered the house end of chapter 2 chapter 3 of the fortune hunter a novel of New York society by Anna Cora Mollett this LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by Kelly S. Taylor my judgment owns her exquisite perfections but my rebellious heart denies her claim Hannah Moore circumstance that unspiritual God a miscreator makes and helps along are coming evils with a crutch like rod whose touch turns hope to dust Byron Hello, Brainard here I have been knocking at your door this half hour did you imagine I was badger but what ails you have you got the blues you wear a rather doleful fit for a man with your brilliant prospects as mr. Ellery entered the chamber of Brainard the latter gentleman was sitting beside a small round stand which held an empty bottle and a wine glass his feet were carelessly rested in a position somewhat higher than his head the cigar between his lips was but half smoked yet its fire was extinguished and the gray ashes had fallen entirely unnoticed upon his richly embroidered vest Ellery, how do you do glad to see you sit down we'll have another bottle that's right now you look more like yourself what in the name of everything that's horrible were you ruminating on upon matrimony a very serious subject is it not I see nothing so very serious in a rich wife and her agreeable accompaniment true but let me fill your glass certainly if as I empty it you will let me understand why your head is so full everything prosperous does it not it is three weeks tomorrow since you were first introduced to mrs. stell and she has received your flowers carried your verses in her pockets thrown her glove out the window at your serenades and even after a little persuasion met you at the fountain in union park is it not so yes she listens to everything I have to say replies with a deep sigh and once in a while she murmurs unfortunate young man as though she dreaded that some calamity were about to befall me still she does not withhold her dangerous smiles no though they have never placed my heart in much peril yet Ellery in a word I do not love her burst forth the young man with an energy which he had never played before such a woman I could never love and when I see her beside that angelic mrs. Walton and hear her affected tones contrasting with the moving music of aria's voice I almost hate her it was on this fact that I was just pondering what a different creature might not the gentle influence of such a being as aria Walton make me my nature would become softened by hers she would inspire me with virtues that I had never before desired to possess I should grow pure through her purity and I could learn to look at the heaven her finger pointed out in her presence I have felt springs of feeling which the polluting atmosphere of the world had choked up unsealed in my bosom where aria my wife pleasure would no longer be my idol nor self my god I should become a man an honorable upright intellectual being fulfilling a noble destiny not the slave of dissipation ever a thirst for ever yet sated with enjoyment what a delectable picture you have drawn said ellery cooly let me now finish it by feeling in the most important character you have forgotten your lairities and pinates namely mr. badger and his assistants brainard seemed to awake as if from a dream at the sound of that cobalistic name listen to me my young friend continued ellery but first answer me one question have you had any further visits from your inconvenient acquaintance as of late I have escaped him three times last week but I had to dodge about like a thief and almost expect to see him start out of every dark corner have you made up your mind then that it is the part of a sensible man to cut his acquaintance yes and you know of no better mode of doing than by marrying miss estelle clinton no I'll try it again founded wine is too heavy and had got into your head that's all cure yourself homeopathically a few more glasses will bring you back to where you were when you began now let's see how matters miss estelle does not reject your attentions yet she evidently conclines to pay hers to mr. Chadwick there's no danger however in that quarter for his young affections are decidedly engaged to whom question brainard starting from his seat be quiet my dear sir not to miss estelle therefore it is no affair of yours he is in love with miss walton but she does not love him in return she cannot shall not a little diminutive stop stop stop not so fast my friend Chadwick can compare with most men of my acquaintance although he is not six foot high but that is not to the purpose you stand a fair chance of winning miss estelle if you will only act with caution remember she carries weight a man has not many such chances in his life but as it is always wise to be prepared for emergencies and be guarded against disappointments I came here this afternoon to propose introducing you to another lady who could heal the wound in case miss estelle should prove inconstance agreed said brainard filling up a bumper here's to success with the fare he drained his glass and added in an exhilarating tone now I am ready for anything you like away with melancholy la la la la what an idiot I was to have laughed until I was 29 years old at cupid and his archery and to fancy myself wounded after all but as you say it was the wine in my head and now Richards himself again wrong though we have not a moment to lose we will stop in at grand genre and on the way let him remodel your hair and beard then a visit to miss Priscilla a dare after that you can pay your devils to the Clintons and pass the evening lead on gallant general I follow told the wrong the wrong the wrong life let us cherish and thus singing brainard sauntered out of his chamber but the song changed to a whistle as he descended the stairs and to low humming after he passed out of the street door he was not interrupted by Ellery until they turn the corner of Barkley Street and enter grand genre a few moments suffice to the effect of very marked alteration in the external appearance of Mr. Brainard as soon as the gentlemen were once again in the street he accosted his friend with come Ellery give me a description of this new enamorata I feel my heart almost gone already I am very sorry to have discovered that you have any heart at all the sooner you forget it yourself the better for your own as for the lady of your love that maybe she is not quite so young as Miss Estelle nor quite so pretty nor yet quite so romantic thank heaven for the last item this donkey hodism does not agree with my constitution shall I proceed Miss Adair is a lady of that certain age which Byron says the most uncertain age appears she is one of those kind souls whose abundant charity leads them to travel themselves perpetually with other people's affairs and to make the private concerns of all the world their own in person no matter the casket what is the value of the jewel the world says eighty thousand dollars which is probably about fifty thousand but this she has in her own right and it ought to be sufficient to exclude all inconvenient acquaintances there will be no waiting for her to come of age you know although it is to be hoped she has not arrived at years of discretion the adairs belong to our old-fashioned New York aristocracy a class of person that were once in the ascendant but have seen their best days in the noble mall which have become too dreadfully mixed for their exclusiveness Miss Adair has two brothers who were formerly men of wealth they have each large families and the rumor is that their fortunes have been consumed in speculations Miss Adair has lived quite secluded until the last year suddenly she showed herself in society again coquetted, received offers and entertained all the young men about town a man past thirty is her aversion it is supposed that she is tired of the guardianship of her brother over her property and is now determined that both she and it shall have a more interested and lawful protector there we are do you feel prepared to enter the field prepared for anything sound the trumpet or in plain English, pull the bell and let us in I am impatient to rush into the presence of the fair enemy the door opened and the gentlemen were ushered into a very fashionable looking parlor upon the cushioned sofa half set, half reclined Miss Priscilla Adair in her hand she held a volume upon which her eyes were intently fixed but whether she was perusing it or not the end of a spectacle case which peeped ill-manneredly out of the pocket where it had been hastily slipped made a doubtful question yet on the other hand the girlish style of her dress proved it to be quite impossible that the spectacles were made for use she is decidedly too substantial looking thought brainered at the first glance romantic I wonder whose dye she uses to color her eyebrows and whether that yellowish hair frizzed about her eyes to resemble toe is her own her teeth came from palmleys that all swear such were the ejaculations passing through brainered's mind while Ellery introduced him as a particular friend and one who had long been desirous of making the acquaintance of Miss Adair I am happy to see you Mr. Ellery happy to see you Mr. Brainard said Miss Adair with a curtsy which the stiffened limbs of bells of the present generation would find it difficult to imitate where have you been this long time Mr. Ellery is your friend any relation to Mr. Alfred Brainard in the part place I see a resemblance but I am so dreadfully short-sighted and Miss Adair drew a large round eyeglass from her belt and after adjusting her head on one side with a shrewd nod which seemed to say there's no deceiving me through this glass she placed it to her eye and honored Mr. Brainard with a long inquisitive stare my friend is no relation to Mr. Alfred Brainard I believe no I knew Mr. Alfred Brainard quite well that is to say I have seen him very often he used to visit a lady who lived opposite me a married lady too Mrs. Anthony you know her do you not oh quite well a terrible flirt I've watched her and seen Brainard go in there sometimes twice a day a very wild young man I suspect it was shocking to live opposite such people where is she now in the city I believe does Brainard visit her yet I'm sorry I cannot inform you oh I warrant he does married women have such a way about them they can are you so opposed to the married state all together to disapprove of you asked Mr. Brainard in his blandest voice I approve of it in some cases replied the lady as blandly your disapproval in others has doubtless calls many a sleepless night continued the gentleman in the same honeyed voice what a remarkably pleasant young man your friend is said Mr. Dare in a whisper to Ellery while Brainard become suddenly deeply interested in an album lying near him he seems to be a perfect gentleman and very handsome where is he from from Baltimore he has only been in a few weeks in New York indeed how old is he does he come on business or on pleasure is he rich he is about 27 or 8 his only business is pleasure his father died a year or two ago and left him a cool $100,000 replied Ellery indeed really quite handsome Mr. Brainard I hope I may be favored with your name among others in that book certainly madam unworthy as it is of occupying a place there I cannot refuse anything that you request the gentleman prolonged their visit for a half an hour during which time Ms. Dare whose conversation consisted principally of questions had learned a great many particulars from Mr. Ellery about her most intimate friends an unusual number of opportunities were afforded Mr. Brainard for making agreeable remarks and Ms. Dare who was fond of an aside privately informed Mr. Ellery that she had never been so pleased with anybody in her life and that he did not in the least resemble that profligate Mr. Alfred Brainard elated at the apparent string of this second string to his bow Mr. Brainard felt in such good spirits as he approached the Clintons that even Estelle's heirs seemed to him less intolerable and he expressed himself as having no doubt that if he chose he could be accepted by both the fair ones at a time it was nine o'clock before they reached the residence of Mr. Clinton as they entered the parlor the first person on whom Mr. Brainard's eye rested was Ms. Walton she was sitting beside Rachel and both girls were as usual employed it with their sewing was it the contrast with Rachel that made Arya look so beautiful or the unusual flush on her cheek and the sparkling of her eye Brainard's countenance suddenly brightened as he gazed on her but it suddenly darkened when he noticed who sat in front of the young ladies it was Edward Chadwick with a volume in his hand he had been reading aloud some passages from a poem by Wordsworth near him set Esther with the mysteries of Udolfo upon her lap but she too was listening to young Chadwick for it was the tones of the reader and the play of his features which fascinated her attention not the beautiful reflections of the noble sentiments that he uttered Brainard as he wished the ladies good evening could see nothing but Arya and he was advancing to take a seat beside her when a warning look from Ellery withheld him and he sank into a chair near Esther his spirits were gone and he felt the very impersonation of a despairing lover and Esther's heart sympathized with him for she felt sure that his gloom had originated in her cruelty have you read the mysteries of Udolfo Mr. Brainard no never that is to say yes oh yes frequently a thrilling tale is it not it makes my heart bleed and mine happy the nature filled the woes of others yes very is Miss Arya ill she seems to be retiring and unable to restrain himself any longer Brainard hastily approached Arya are you going to leave us so soon Miss Walton must you so soon carry our sunshine away with you he added in a lower tone moonshine would be the more appropriate term would it not replied Arya lightly then fearing she had wounded his feelings she added I am very sorry to lead this pleasant company but Mrs. Liming does not like me to keep late hours and it is struck nine I must wish you all good evening you permit me to my dear Brainard you are treading on Miss Walton's dress said Ellery seizing the arm of Brainard with a rather tighter grip to attract his attention beware he whispered I fancy badger intends paying you another visit tomorrow morning do you never intend to be able to cut his acquaintance Brainard looked at him with a dull stare as though he hardly comprehended the meaning of his words and was following Arya but Mr. Chadwick was already at her side with his hat in hand to accompany her home Brainard turned reseeded himself beside Esther and hardly knowing what he did took the hand which lay upon the arm of the chair in his she withdrew it yet not suddenly and not indignantly but rather as though she grieved to give him pain Arya bent to give Esther for a do and Brainard trembled again as he felt the pure breath of the being whom he truly loved on his own cheek it was but fancy yet it deprived him of all ease and self-position for the remainder of the evening farewell Arya said Esther we shall soon meet again farewell Arya echoed the heart of Brainard he might soon meet again End of Chapter 3 Chapter 4 of The Fortune Hunter a novel of New York society by Anna Cora-Mawet this LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by Kelly Taylor Oh love, young love bound in thy cozy bands Byron Pray Miss Walton Arya, pray do not so quicken your pace said Mr. Chadwick a few moments after he and Miss Walton had left the house of the Clintons excuse me I was hurrying home like another Cinderella for the hour at which I was or at which I promised to return has already struck had we not better make haste you then a bridge a pleasure which I so seldom enjoyed so long anticipated that of acting as your protector and being alone with you said he in a tremulous voice Arya replied not but her step perhaps unconsciously became slower more than a square further they walked in perfect silence Arya, Mr. Chad say, Edgar rather have we not known each other long enough for you to call me by that name to me it seems as though you had been a familiar spirit ever since I learned to dream of a woman you are the Egeria that in my earliest youth I pictured to myself and thought I could love the one being in whom I find my bow ideal in manhood and whom therefore I do love am I presumptuous in saying this have I hoped too much because you invents towards me the same frank and affectionate manner with which you delight your friends was it all my hopeful folly when I fancied sometimes that I had awakened your sympathy nay was not the word I have used for I know how fully you sympathize with all those around you I you dear Arya will you not permit me to call you by that name the timid glance the moist eye a moment lifted to his the trembling arm he held within his own these spoke all that Arya's tongue refused to express I have not then deceived myself murmured Edgar and a voice tremulous with happiness you listen to me you do not turn away you you have been all the world to me and you permit me to hope that I am something to you the thought of you Arya has been many anxious months formed my whole happiness do you believe it in my power to form yours will you trust it in my keeping if I can always make you feel as joyful as now my happiness will be so cured hath whispered Arya you will consent then ever to remain near me and cheer my hours of solitude ever to teach me such sweet and holy lessons of truth and goodness as I have already learnt from your lips to give me some foretaste of that abode of future happiness in reality of which only the existence of such beings as you are could make me believe and what have I to offer in return Edgar Fancy he heard Arya breathe your love but it was the expression of her countenance rather than the movement of her lips which conveyed the idea I have only the wealth of the heart to lay at your feet he continued with a touch of humor which was natural to him and that will not purchase house and lands and all else that if we had the fairy's wishing cap we might desire I am but a young student with all the gold I may ever possess yet disencumbered from the rough soil of my brains but as I am now even so was my father 30 years ago and he rides his carriage today I have helped and I hope it is not this all that a young man in this happy land desire some foreigner says that it is easy for an American to make a fortune when he has none as it is for him to spend one if he chances to have one left to him I think my prospects bright while Arya smiles and should they ever be darker her smile must brighten them still it shall, it will the worst fate can send that smile shall disarm her wrath with you to protect what incentive shall I have for exertion and have I indeed secured myself such a lifelong source of joy I can hardly credit my own happiness oh Arya will you never repent that you consented to become the light of a poor student's home shall I ever love him less shall I love when you ask I would soon as question hush speak lower we are just home bid me a hasty good night I am afraid that is Mrs. Limming at the window you shall not fear her long loveliest and best beloved hush hush whispered Arya timidly leave me now I beg of you adieu then my own Arya mine forever adieu my dear she had hardly uttered the words before the door opened and she sprang into the house but they resounded in Edgar's ears when he sought his pillow that night in his dreams they were re-uttered in the same tenderly harmonious tone and when morning sun fell brightly on the placid countenance of the sleeper he awoke to spring up repeating to himself dear, dear Edgar End of Chapter 4