The Maid of Maiden Lane by Amelia E. Barr (adventure books to read TXT) 📖

“Of Mr. Burr I will not talk. I like not his little dirty politics.”

“He is very clever.”

“Well, then, you have to praise him for being clever; for being honest you cannot praise him.”

“‘Tis a monstrous pity that Right can only be on one side; yet sometimes Right and Mr. Burr may happen to be on the same side.”

“The right way is too straight for Aaron Burr. If into it he wanders tis for a wrong reason.”

“My dear grandfather, how your words bite!”

“I wish not to say biting things; but Aaron Burr stands for those politicians who turn patriotism into shopkeeping and their own interest—men who care far more for WHO governs us than for HOW we are governed. And what will be the end of such ways? I will tell you. We shall have a Democracy that will be the reign of those who know the least and talk the loudest.”

At this point in the conversation Van Heemskirk was called to the door about some business matter and George was left alone with his grandmother. She was setting the tea-table, and her hands were full of china; but she put the cups quickly down, and going to George’s side, said—

“Cornelia Moran spends this evening with her friend Arenta Van Ariens. Well then, would thou like an excuse to call on Arenta?”

“Oh, grandmother! Do you indeed know Arenta? Can you send me there?”

“Since she was one month old I have known Arenta. This morning, she came here to borrow for her Aunt Jacobus my ivory winders. Now then, I did not wish to lend Angelica Jacobus my winders; and I said to Arenta that ‘by and by I would look for them.’ Not far are they to seek; and for thy pleasure I will get them, and thou canst take them this evening to Arenta.”

“O you dear, dear grandmother!” and he stood up, and lifted her rosy face between his hands and kissed her.

“I am so fond of thee,” she continued. “I love thee so much; and thy pleasure is my pleasure; and I see no harm—no harm at all—in thy love for the beautiful Cornelia. I think, with thee, she is a girl worth any man’s heart; and if thou canst win her, I, for one, will be joyful with thee. Perhaps, though, I am a selfish old woman—it is so easy to be selfish.”

“Let me tell you, grandmother, you know not how to be selfish.”

“Let me tell thee, Joris, I was thinking of myself, as well as of thee. For while thy grandfather talked of Aaron Burr, this thought came into my mind—if to Annie Hyde my Joris is married, he will live in England, and I shall see him no more in this world. But if to Cornelia Moran he is married, when his father goes to England, then here he will stay; he will live at Hyde Manor, and I shall go to see him, and he will call here to see me;—and then, many good days came into my thoughts. Yes, yes, in every kind thing, in every good thing, somewhere there is hid a little bit of our own will and way. Always, if I look with straight eyes, I can find it.” “Get me the winders, grandmother; for now you have given me a reason to hurry.”

“But why so quickly must you go?”

“Look at me! It will take me two hours to dress. I have had no dinner—I want to think—you understand, grandmother?”

Then she went into the best parlour, and opening one of the shutters let in sufficient light to find in the drawer of a little Chinese cabinet some ivory winders of very curious design and workmanship. She folded them in soft tissue paper and handed them to her grandson with a pleasant nod; and the young man slipped them into his waistcoat pocket, and then went hurriedly away.

He had spoken of his dinner, but though somewhat hungry, he made but a light meal. His dress seemed to him the most vitally important thing of the hour; and no girl choosing her first ball gown could have felt more anxious and critical on the subject. His call was to be considered an accidental one; and he could not therefore dress as splendidly as if it were a ceremonious or expected visit. After much hesitation, he selected a coat and breeches of black velvet, a pearl-coloured vest, and cravat and ruffles of fine English bone lace. Yet when his toilet was completed, he was dissatisfied. He felt sure more splendid apparel set off his dark beauty to greater advantage; and yet he was equally sure that more splendid apparel would not—on this occasion—be as suitable.

Doubting and hoping, he reached the Van Ariens’ house soon after seven o’clock. It was not quite dark, and Jacob Van Ariens stood on the stoop, smoking his pipe and talking to a man who had the appearance of a workman; and who was, in fact, the foreman of his business quarters in the Swamp.

“Good-evening, sir,” said George with smiling politeness. “Is Miss Van Ariens within?”

“Within? Yes. But company she has tonight,” said the watchful father, as he stood suspicious and immovable in the entrance.

It did not seem to George as if it would be an easy thing to pass such a porter at the door, but he continued,

“I have come with a message to Miss Van Ariens.”

“A very fine messenger!” answered Van Ariens, slightly smiling.

“A fine lady deserves a fine messenger. But, sir, if you will do my errand for me, I am content. ‘Tis from Madame Van Heemskirk—”

“SO then? That is good.”

“I am George Hyde, her grandson, you know.”

“Well then, I did not know. ‘Tis near dark, and I see not as well as once I did.”

“I have brought from Madame Van Heemskirk some ivory winders for Madame Jacobus.”

“Come in, come in, and tell my Arenta the message thyself. I know nothing of such things. Come in, I did not think of thee as my friend Van Heemskirk’s grandson. Welcome art thou!” and Van Ariens himself opened the parlour door, saying, “Arenta, here is George Hyde. A message he brings for thy Aunt Angelica.”

And while these words were being uttered, George delighted his eyes with the vision of Cornelia, who sat at a small table with some needlework in her hand. Arenta’s tatting was over her foot, and she had to remove it in order to rise and meet Hyde. Rem sat idly fingering a pack of playing cards and talking to Cornelia. This situation George took in at a glance; though his sense of sight was quite satisfied when it rested on the lovely girl who dropped her needle as he entered, for he saw the bright flush which overspread her face and throat, and the light of pleasure which so filled her eyes that they seemed to make her whole face luminous.

In a few moments, Arenta’s pretty enthusiasms and welcomes dissipated all constraint, and Hyde placed his chair among the happy group and fell easily into