TEN summers after this, the old Colonel and Miss Jemima and Miss Letty scraped up money enough to spend a summer in a cheap boarding-house at Newport. Many surprises awaited the Colonel upon his first visit to Newport since "before the war, sir." In the first place, the money they paid for their plain rooms seemed a very imposing sum to them, and they were extremely surprised to find how small it was regarded at Newport.
"Newport, my dear Jemima and Letty, is a more expensive place than the White Sulphur in its palmiest days, when it had a monopoly of the chivalry of the South," announced the Colonel, oracularly.
Letty had innocently expected a great triumph, especially with her wardrobe. She had no less than five white Swiss muslin frocks, all tucked and beruffled within an inch of her life, and she had also a lace parasol, besides one that had belonged to her mother, and several lace flounces and a set of pearls. This outfit, thought Letty, vain and proud, was bound to make a sensation. But it did not. However, no matter what Letty wore, she was in no danger of being put behind the door. First, because she was so very, very pretty, and second, because she was so obviously a thoroughbred, from the sole of her little arched foot, up to the crown of her delicate, proud head. And Letty was so extremely haughty. But she soon found out that Swiss muslin frocks don't count at Newport, and that even a Corbin of Corbin Hall, who lodged in a cheap place, was not an object of flattering attention.
And the more neglected she was, the more toploftical she became. So did the Colonel, and so did Miss Jemima. Walking down Bellevue avenue with the Colonel, Letty would criticize severely the stately carriages, the high-stepping horses and the superbly dressed women and natty men that are characteristic of that swell drive. But when a carriage would pass with a crest on its doors, the Colonel's white teeth showed beneath his mustache in a grim smile.
"One of the Popes," he remarked, with suave sarcasm, "who started in life as a cobbler, took for his papal arms a set of cobblers' tools. But I perceive no indication whatever, in this community of retired tradespeople, that they have not all inherited their wealth since the days of the Saxon Heptarchy."
For a time it seemed as if not one single person at Newport had ever heard of Colonel Archibald Corbin, of Corbin Hall. But one afternoon, as Letty and her grandfather were taking a dignified promenade,—they could not afford to drive at Newport,—they noticed a stylish dogcart approaching, with a hale, manly fellow, neither particularly young nor especially handsome, handling the ribbons. Just as he caught sight of the Colonel he pulled up, and in another moment he had thrown the reins to the statuesque person who sat on the back seat, and was advancing toward the old man, hat in hand.
"This must be Colonel Corbin. I can't be mistaken," he cried, in a cordial, rich voice.
Letty took in at a glance how well set up he was, how fresh and wholesome and manly.
"It is Colonel Corbin," replied the Colonel, with stately affability.
"But you don't remember me, I see. Perhaps you recall my father, John Farebrother—wines and liquors. We're not in the business now," he said, smiling, turning to Letty with a sort of natural gracefulness, "but, contrary to custom, we have n't forgotten it."
The Colonel seized Farebrother's hand and sawed it up and down vigorously.
"Certainly, certainly," he said. "Your father supplied the cellars of Corbin Hall for forty years, and the acquaintanceship begun in a business way was continued with very great pleasure on my part, and I frequently enjoyed a noble hospitality at your father's villa here, in the good old days before the war."
"And I hope you will extend the same friendship to my father's son," said Farebrother, still holding his hat in his hand, and looking very hard at Letty, as if to say, "Present me."
"My granddaughter, Miss Corbin," explained the Colonel, and Letty put her slim little hand, country fashion, when she was introduced, into the strong, sunburned one that Farebrother held out to her. Farebrother nodded to the statuesque person in the dogcart, and his nod seemed to convey a whole code of meaning. The dogcart trundled off down the road, and Farebrother walked along by Letty's side, the Colonel on the other. Letty examined this new acquaintance critically, under her dark lashes, anxiously endeavoring to belittle him in her own mind. But having excellent natural sense, in about two minutes and a half she recognized that this man, who mentioned so promptly that his father dealt in wines and liquors, was a gentleman of the very first water. In fact, there is no discounting a gentleman.
Almost every carriage that passed caused Farebrother to raise his hat, and Letty took in, with feminine astuteness, that he was a man of large and fashionable acquaintance. He walked the whole way back to their dingy lodgings with them, and then went in and sat in the musty drawing-room for half an hour. What had Miss Corbin seen at Newport? he asked. Miss Corbin had seen nothing, as she acknowledged with a faint resentment in her voice. This Mr. Farebrother pronounced a shame, a scandal, and a disgrace. She must immediately see everything. His sisters would call immediately; he would see to that. His mother never went out. He hoped to see Miss Corbin at a breakfast or something or other his sisters were planning. They had got hold of an Englishman with a handle to his name, and although the girls pretended that the Britisher was only an incident at the breakfast, that was all a subterfuge. But Miss Corbin should judge for herself, and then, after thanking the Colonel warmly for his invitation to call again, Farebrother took his leave.
The very next afternoon, an immaculate victoria drove up to the Corbins' door, and two immaculately stylish girls got out. Miss Jemima and the Colonel were not at home, so Letty received the visitors alone in the grim lodging-house parlor. They got on famously, much of the sweetness and true breeding of the brother being evident in the sisters. They were very English in their voices and pronunciation and use of phrases, but in some way it did not sound affected, and they were genuinely kind and girlishly cordial. And it was plain that "our brother" was regarded with extreme veneration. Would Miss Corbin come to a breakfast they were giving next Saturday? Miss Corbin accepted so delightedly, that the Farebrother girls, who were not accustomed to Southern enthusiasm over trifles, were a little startled.
Scarcely had the young ladies driven off when up came Mr. Farebrother. Letty, at this, their second meeting, received him as if he had been a long lost brother. He, however, who knew something about the genus to which Letty belonged, grinned with keen appreciation of her rapturous greeting, and was not the least overpowered by it. He hung on in the most unfashionable manner until the Colonel arrived, who was highly pleased to meet his young friend, as he called Farebrother, who had a distinct bald spot on the top of his head, and the ruddy flush of six-and-thirty in his face. Farebrother desired the Colonel's permission to put him up at the Club, and offered him various other civilities, all of which the Colonel received with an inconceivably funny air of conferring a favor instead of accepting one.
Newport assumed an altogether different air to the Corbins after the Farebrother raid. But Letty's anticipations of the breakfast were dashed with a little secret anxiety of which she was heartily ashamed. What should she wear? She had never been to a fashionable breakfast before in her life. She hesitated between her one elaborate gown, and one of her fresh muslins, but with intuitive taste she reflected that a white frock was always safe, and so concluded to wear one, in which she looked like a tall white lily.
The day of the breakfast arrived; the noonday sun shone with a tempered radiance upon the velvety turf, the great clumps of blue and pink hydrangeas, and the flower borders of rich and varied color, on the shaven lawns. It was a delicious August forenoon, and the warm and scented air had a clear and charming freshness. The shaded piazzas of the Farebrother cottage, with masses of greenery banked about them, made a beautiful background for the dainty girls and well-groomed men who alighted from the perfect equipages that rolled up every minute. Presently a "hack" in the last stage of decrepitude passed through the open and ivy-grown gateway, and as it drew up upon the graveled circle, Letty Corbin, in her white dress and a large white hat, rose from the seat. Farebrother was at her side in an instant, helping her to descend. Usually, Letty's face was of a clear and creamy paleness, but now it was flushed with a wild-rose blush. It had suddenly dawned upon her that the ramshackly rig, which was quite as good as anything she was accustomed to in Virginia, did not look very well amid the smart carriages that came before and after her. However, it in no wise destroyed her self-possession, as it would have done that of some of the girls who descended from the smart carriages. And there was Farebrother with his kind voice and smile, waiting to meet her at the steps, and pouring barefaced compliments in her ear, which last Miss Letty relished highly.
The two girls received her cordially, and introduced her to one or two persons. But they could not devote their whole time to her, and in a little while Letty drifted into the cool, shaded, luxurious drawing-room, and found that she was left very much to herself. The men and girls around her chatted glibly among themselves, but they seemed oblivious of the fact that there was a stranger present, to whom attention would have been grateful. Two very elegant looking girls talked directly across her, and were presently joined by a man who quite ignored her even by a glance, and although she sat between him and the girls, he kept his eyes fixed on them. Letty thought it was very bad manners.
"At Corbin Hall," she thought bitterly, "a stranger would have been overwhelmed with kind attentions"; but apparently at Newport a stranger had no rights that a cottager was bound to respect.
"The fact is, Miss Cornwell," said the man, in the studied, low voice of the "smart set," "I've been nearly run off my legs this week by Sir Archy Corbin. He's the greatest fellow for doing things I ever saw in my life. And he positively gives a man no rest at all. We 've always been good friends, but I shall have to 'cut him' if this thing keeps up."
The lie in this statement was not in the least obvious to Letty, but was perfectly so to the young women, who knew there was not the remotest chance of Sir Archy Corbin being cut by any of their set. The name, though, at once struck Letty, and her mobile face showed that she was interested in the subject.
"Will he be at the meet on Thursday, Mr. Woodruff?" asked the girl, suddenly dropping her waving fan and indolent manner, and showing great animation. At this, Woodruff answered with a slightly embarrassed smile:
"Well—er—no, I hardly think so. You know, in England, this is n't the hunting season—"
"Oh, no," struck in Miss Cornwell, perfectly at home in English customs, "their hunting season is just in time to break up the New York season."
Letty's face, which was very expressive, had unconsciously assumed a look of shocked surprise. Hunting a fox in August! For Letty knew nothing of the pursuit of the fierce and cunning aniseseed bag. Her lips almost framed the words, "How dreadful!"
Woodruff, without glancing at her, but taking in swiftly the speaking look of disgusted astonishment, framed with his lips something that sounded like "Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals."
A blush poured hotly into Letty's face. The rudeness of talking about her before her face angered her intensely, but did not for a moment disconcert her. There was a little pause. Miss Cornwell looked straight before her with an air of amused apprehension. Then Letty spoke in a clear, soft voice:
"You are mistaken," she said, looking Woodruff calmly in the face. "I do not belong to that society. I do not altogether believe in professional philanthropy. I was, it is true, shocked at the idea of fox-hunting in August, because, although I have been accustomed to seeing hunting in a sportsmanlike manner all my life, the fox was given a chance for his life."
It was now Woodruff's turn to blush, which he did furiously. He was not really a rude man, but his whole social training had been in the line of trying to imitate people of another type than himself, and consequently his perceptions were not acute. The imitative process is a blunting one. But he did not desire to give anybody pain, and the idea of a social blunder was simply harrowing to him.
"Pray excuse me," he said, and looked a picture of awkward misery, and Miss Cornwell actually seemed to enjoy his predicament.
Letty had instantly risen as soon as she had spoken, but by the time she had taken a step forward there was a little movement in front of her, and the next moment she saw the same Sir Archibald Corbin she had seen ten years ago, standing in front of her, holding out his hand and saying: "May I ask if this is not my cousin, Miss Corbin, of Corbin Hall? You were a little girl when I saw you last, but I cannot be mistaken."
"Yes, I am Letty Corbin," answered Letty, giving him her hand, impulsively; she would have welcomed her deadliest enemy at that moment, in order to create a diversion.
But the effect of this meeting and greeting upon Woodruff and Miss Cornwell, and the people surrounding them, was magnetic. If Letty had announced, "I am the sole and only representative of the noble house of Plantagenet," or Howard, or Montmorenci, their surprise could not have been greater.
Sir Archy spoke to them with that cool British civility which is not altogether pleasing. Woodruff had time to feel a ridiculous chagrin at the footing which his alleged friend put him on, and Letty was quite feline enough to let him see it. She fixed two pretty, malicious eyes on him, and smiled wickedly when instead of making up to Sir Archy, he very prudently turned toward Miss Cornwell, who likewise seemed secretly amused.
But Sir Archy's manner toward Letty was cordiality itself. He asked after the Colonel.
"And such a royal snubbing as I got from him that time so long ago," he said, fervently. "I hope he has no intention of repeating it."
"I can't say," replied Letty, slyly, and examining her cousin with much approval. He had the delicious, fresh, manly beauty of the Briton, and he had quite lost that uncanny likeness to a dead man which had been so remarkable ten years ago. He had, however, the British simplicity which takes all of an American girl's subtilities in perfect candor and good faith. He and Letty got along wonderfully together. In fact, Letty's fluency and affability was such that she could have got on with an ogre. But presently Farebrother came up and carried her off, under Sir Archy's very nose, toward the dining-room. As Letty walked across the beautiful hall into the dining-room beyond, some new sense of luxury seemed to awaken in her. She was familiar enough with certain elegancies of life,—at that very moment she had her great-grandmother's string of pearls around her milky-white throat,—and Corbin Hall contained a store of heirlooms for which the average Newport cottager would have bartered all his modern bric-à-brac. But this nicety of detail in comfort was perfectly new and delightful to her, and she confided so much to Farebrother.
"You see," she complained, confidentially, "down in Virginia we spend all we have on the luxuries of life, and then we have to do without the necessaries."
"I see," answered Farebrother, "but then you 've been acknowledged as a cousin by an English baronet. Think of that, and it will sustain you, and make you patient under your trials more than all the consolation of religion."
"I'll try to," answered Letty, demurely.
"And he is a first-rate fellow, too," continued Farebrother, who could be magnanimous. "I made up to him at the club before I knew who he was—"
"Oh, nonsense. You knew he was a baronet."
"I'll swear I didn't. Presently, though, it leaked out that he was what the newspapers call a titled person. We were talking about some red wine that a villain of a steward was trying to palm off on us, and Sir Archy gave his opinion, which was simply rubbish. I told him so in parliamentary language, and when he wanted to argue the point, I gently reminded him that my father and my grandfather had been in the wine-importing line, and I had been born and bred to the wine business."
By this time Farebrother's light-blue expressive eyes were dancing, and Letty fully took in the joke.
"The descendants of the dealers in tobacco, drugs, and hardware, who were sitting around, were naturally much pained at my admission, but Sir Archy was n't, and actually gave in to my opinion. He stuck to me so close—now, Miss Corbin, I swear I am not lying—that I could n't shake him off, and he walked home with me. Of course I had to ask him in, and then the girls came out; they could n't have been kept away from him unless they had been tied, and he has pervaded the house more or less ever since. That is how it is that the noble house of Corbin is to-day accepting the hospitality of the humble house of Farebrother."
"Very kind of us, I 'm sure," said Letty, gravely, "but I'd feel more important if I had more clothes. You can't imagine how fine my wardrobe seemed down in Virginia, and here I feel as if I had n't a rag to my back."
"A rag to your back, indeed," said Farebrother, with bold admiration. "Those white muslin things you wear are the prettiest gowns I ever saw at Newport."
Letty smiled rapturously. The breakfast was delightful to two persons, Letty Corbin and Tom Farebrother. After it was over they went out on the lawn, and watched the long, soft swell of the summer sea breaking at their feet, and the gay hydrangeas nodding their pretty heads gravely in the sunshine. And in a moment or two Sir Archy came up and joined them. Farebrother held his ground stoutly; he always held it stoutly and pleasantly as well, and the three had such a jolly time that the correct young ladies who used their broad a's so carefully, and the correct young gentlemen in London-made morning clothes, stared at such evident enjoyment. But it was a respectful stare, and even Letty's ramshackly carriage was regarded with toleration when it rattled up. Sir Archy, however, asked permission to drive her back in his dog-cart, which Letty at once agreed to, much to Tom Farebrother's frankly expressed disgust.
"There you go," he growled in her ear. "Just like the rest; the fellow has a handle to his name and that 's enough."
"Why didn't you offer to drive me home yourself?" answered Letty, with equally frank coquetry, bending her eyes upon him with a challenge in their hazel depths.
"By George, why did n't I?" was Farebrother's whispered reply, as he handed her over to Sir Archy.
Miss Corbin's exit was much more imposing than her arrival, as she drove off, sitting up straight and slim, in Sir Archy's dog-cart.
"Do you know," said he, as they spun along the freshly watered drive in the soft August afternoon, "that you are the first American I have seen yet? All of the young ladies that I see here are tolerably fair copies of the young ladies I meet in London drawing-rooms; but you are really what I fancied an American girl to be."
"Thank you," answered Letty, dubiously. "But I daresay I am rather better behaved than you expected to find me."
"Not at all," answered Sir Archy, with energy.
This was a good beginning for an acquaintance, and when Letty got home she could not quite decide which she liked the better, Tom Farebrother or this sturdy, sensible English cousin.
It is scarcely necessary to say that Letty's fortune was made as far as the Newport season went. Her opinions of people and things at Newport underwent a sudden change when she began to be treated with great attention. She triumphantly confided to both Farebrother and Sir Archy that she did not mean to let the Colonel start for Virginia until he had spent all his money, and she had worn out all her clothes, and would be obliged to go home to be washed and mended. Meanwhile she flirted infamously and impartially with both, after a manner indigenous to the region south of Mason and Dixon's line.