Struggles and Triumphs P. T. Barnum (the beginning after the end read novel .TXT) 📖

“I would be glad to risk it.”

“Well, perhaps Mr. Barnum would engage you, if you asked him,” said Lavinia.

“Would you really like to have me go?” asked the General, quietly insinuating his arm around her waist, but hardly close enough to touch her.

“Of course I would,” was the reply.

The little General’s arm clasped the waist closer as he turned his face nearer to hers, and said:

“Don’t you think it would be pleasanter if we went as man and wife?”

The little fairy quickly disengaged his arm, and remarked that the General was a funny fellow to joke in that way.

“I am not joking at all,” said the General, earnestly, “it is quite too serious a matter for that.”

“I wonder why the Commodore don’t come?” said Lavinia.

“I hope you are not anxious for his arrival, for I am sure I am not,” responded the General, “and what is more, I do hope you will say ‘yes,’ before he comes at all!”

“Really, Mr. Stratton,” said Lavinia, with dignity, “if you are in earnest in your strange proposal, I must say I am surprised.”

“Well, I hope you are not offended,” replied the General, “for I was never more in earnest in my life, and I hope you will consent. The first moment I saw you I felt that you were created to be my wife.”

“But this is so sudden.”

“Not so very sudden; it is several months since we first met, and you know all about me, and my family, and I hope you find nothing to object to in me.”

“Not at all; on the contrary, I have found you very agreeable, in fact I like you very much as a friend, but I have not thought of marrying, and⁠—”

“And what? my dear,” said the General, giving her a kiss. “Now, I beg of you, don’t have any ‘buts’ or ‘ands’ about it. You say you like me as a friend, why will you not like me as a husband? You ought to get married; I love you dearly, and I want you for a wife. Now, deary, the Commodore will be here in a few minutes, I may not have a chance to see you again alone; do say that we will be married, and I will get Mr. Barnum to give up your engagement.”

Lavinia hesitated, and finally said:

“I think I love you well enough to consent, but I have always said I would never marry without my mother’s consent.”

“Oh! I’ll ask your mother. May I ask your mother? Come, say yes to that, and I will go and see her next week. May I do that, pet?”

Then there was a sound of something very much like the popping of several corks from as many beer bottles. The young eavesdroppers had no doubt as to the character of these reports, nor did they doubt that they sealed the betrothal, for immediately after they heard Lavinia say:

“Yes, Charles, you may ask my mother.” Another volley of reports followed, and then Lavinia said, “Now, Charles, don’t whisper this to a living soul; let us keep our own secrets for the present.”

“All right,” said the General, “I will say nothing; but next Tuesday I shall start to see your mother.”

“Perhaps you may find it difficult to obtain her consent,” said Lavinia.

At that moment a carriage drove up to the door, and immediately the bell was rung, and the little Commodore entered.

“You here, General?” said the Commodore, as he espied his rival.

“Yes,” said Lavinia, “Mr. Barnum asked him to stay, and we were waiting for you; come, warm yourself.”

“I am not cold,” said the Commodore; “where is Mr. Barnum?”

“He has gone to bed,” remarked the General, “but a nice supper has been prepared for you.”

“I am not hungry, I thank you; I am going to bed. Which room does Mr. Barnum sleep in?” said the little bantam, in a petulant tone of voice.

His question was answered; the young eavesdroppers scampered to their sleeping apartments, and the Commodore soon came to my room, where he found me indulging in the foolish habit of reading in bed.

“Mr. Barnum, does Tom Thumb board here?” asked the Commodore, sarcastically.

“No,” said I, “Tom Thumb does not board here. I invited him to stop overnight, so don’t be foolish, but go to bed.”

“Oh, it’s no affair of mine. I don’t care anything about it; but I thought he had taken up his board here,” replied the Commodore, and off he went to bed, evidently in a bad humor.

Ten minutes afterwards Tom Thumb came rushing into my room, and closing the door, he caught hold of my hand in a high state of excitement and whispered:

“We are engaged, Mr. Barnum! we are engaged! we are engaged!” and he jumped up and down in the greatest glee.

“Is that possible?” I asked.

“Yes, sir, indeed it is; but you must not mention it,” he responded; “we agreed to tell nobody, so please don’t say a word. I must tell you, of course, but ‘mum is the word.’ I am going, Tuesday, to get her mother’s consent.”

I promised secrecy, and the General retired in as happy a mood as I ever saw him. Lavinia also retired, but not a hint did she give to the young lady with whom she slept regarding the engagement. Indeed, our family plied her upon the subject the next day, but not a breath passed her lips that would give the slightest indication of what had transpired. She was quite sociable with the Commodore, and as the General concluded to go home the next morning, the Commodore’s equanimity and good feelings were fully restored. The General made a call of half an hour Sunday evening, and managed to have an interview with Lavinia. The next morning she and the Commodore returned to New York in good spirits, I remaining in Bridgeport.

The General called on me Monday, however, bringing a very nice letter which he had written to Lavinia’s mother. He had concluded to send this letter by his trusty friend, Mr. George A. Wells, instead of going himself, and he