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Trumps: A Novel
Chapter 17. Of Girls And Flowers
George William Curtis
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       _ CHAPTER XVII. OF GIRLS AND FLOWERS
       Mr. Abel Newt was not a philosopher; he was a man of action.
       He told his mother that he could not accompany her to the Springs, because he must prepare himself to enter the counting-room of his father. But the evening before she left, Mrs. Newt gave a little party for Mrs. Plumer, of New Orleans. So Miss Grace, of whom his mother had written Abel, and who was just about leaving school, left school and entered society, simultaneously, by taking leave of Madame de Feuille and making her courtesy at Mrs. Boniface Newt's.
       Madame de Feuille's was a "finishing" school. An extreme polish was given to young ladies by Madame de Feuille. By her generous system they were fitted to be wives of men of even the largest fortune. There was not one of her pupils who would not have been equal to the addresses of a millionaire. It is the profound conviction of all who were familiar with that seminary that the pupils would not have shrunk from marrying a crown-prince, or any king in any country who confined himself to Christian wedlock with one wife, or even the son of an English duke--so perfect was the polish, so liberal the education.
       Mrs. Newt's party was select. Mrs. Plumer, Miss Grace Plumer and the Magots, with Mellish Whitloe, of course; and Mrs. Osborne Moultrie, a lovely woman from Georgia, and her son Sligo, a slim, graceful gentleman, with fair hair and eyes; Dr. and Mrs. Lush, Rev. Dr. and Mrs. Maundy, who came only upon the express understanding that there was to be no dancing, and a few other agreeable people. It was a Summer party, Abel said--mere low-necked muslin, strawberries and ice-cream.
       The eyes of the strangers of the gentler sex soon discovered the dark, rich face of Abel, who moved among the groups with the grace and ease of an accomplished man of society, smiling brightly upon his friends, bowing gravely to those of his mother's guests whom he did not personally know.
       "Who is that?" asked Mrs. Whetwood Tully, who had recently returned with her daughter, one of Madame de Feuille's finest successes, from a foreign tour.
       "That is my brother Abel," replied Miss Fanny.
       "Your brother Abel? how charming! How very like he is to Viscount Tattersalls. You've not been in England, I believe, Miss Newt?"
       Fanny bowed negatively.
       "Ah! then you have never seen Lord Tattersalls. He is a very superior young man. We were very intimate with him indeed. Dolly, dear!"
       "Yes, ma."
       "You remember our particular friend Lord Viscount Tattersalls?"
       "Was he a bishop?" asked Miss Fanny Newt.
       "Law! no, my dear. He was a--he was a--why, he was a Viscount, you know--a Viscount."
       "Oh! a Viscount?"
       "Yes, a Viscount."
       "Ah! a Viscount."
       "Well, Dolly dear, do you see how much Mr. Abel Newt resembles Lord Tattersalls?"
       "Yes, ma."
       "It's very striking, isn't it?"
       "Yes, ma."
       "Or now I look, I think he is even more like the Marquis of Crockford. Don't you think so?"
       "Yes, ma?"
       "Very like indeed."
       "Yes, ma."
       "Dolly, dear, don't you think his nose is like the Duke of Wellington's? You remember the Wellington nose, my child?"
       "Yes, ma."
       "Or is it Lord Brougham's that I mean?"
       "Yes, ma."
       "Yes, dear."
       "May I present my brother Abel, Miss Tally?" asked Fanny Newt.
       "Yes, I'm sure," said Miss Tully.
       Fanny Newt turned just as a song began in the other room, out of which opened the conservatory.
       "Last May a braw wooer cam down the lang glen,
       And sair wi' his love he did deave me:
       I said there was naething I hated like men--
       The deuce gae wi'm to believe'me, believe me,
       The deuce gae wi'm to believe me."
       The rooms were hushed as the merry song rang out. The voice of the singer was arch, and her eye flashed slyly on Abel Newt as she finished, and a murmur of pleasure rose around her.
       Abel leaned upon the piano, with his eyes fixed upon the singer. He was fully conscious of the surprise he had betrayed to sister Fanny when she spoke suddenly of Mrs. Alfred Dinks. It was necessary to remove any suspicion that she might entertain in consequence. If Mr. Abel Newt had intentions in which Miss Hope Wayne was interested, was there any reason why Miss Fanny Newt should mingle in the matter?
       As Miss Plumer finished the song Abel saw his sister coming toward him through the little crowd, although his eyes seemed to be constantly fixed upon the singer.
       "How beautiful!" said he, ardently, in a low voice, looking Grace Plumer directly in the eyes.
       "Yes, it is a pretty song."
       "Oh! you mean the song?" said Abel.
       The singer blushed, and took up a bunch of roses that she had laid upon the piano and began to play with them.
       "How very warm it is!" said she.
       "Yes," said Abel. "Let us take a turn in the conservatory--it is both darker and cooler; and I think your eyes will give light and warmth enough to our conversation."
       "Dear me! if you depend upon me it will be the Arctic zone in the conservatory," said Miss Grace Plumer, as she rose from the piano. (Mrs. Newt had written Abel she was fourteen! She was seventeen in May.)
       "No, no," said Abel, "we shall find the tropics in that conservatory."
       "Then look out for storms!" replied Miss Plumer, laughing.
       Abel offered his arm, and the young couple moved through the humming room. The arch eyes were cast down. The voice of the youth was very low.
       He felt a touch, and turned. He knew very well who it was. It was his sister.
       "Abel, I want to present you to Miss Whetwood Tully."
       "My dear Fanny, I can not turn from roses to violets. Miss Tully, I am sure, is charming. I would go with you with all my heart if I could," said he, smiling and looking at Miss Plumer; "but, you see, all my heart is going here."
       Grace Plumer blushed again. He was certainly a charming young man.
       Fanny Newt, with lips parted, looked at him a moment and shook her head gently. Abel was sure she would happen to find herself in the conservatory presently, whither he and his companion slowly passed. It was prettily illuminated with a few candles, but was left purposely dim.
       "How lovely it is here! Oh! how fond I am of flowers!" said Miss Plumer, with the prettiest little rapture, and such a little spring that Abel was obliged to hold her arm more closely.
       "Are you fond of flowers, Mr. Newt?"
       "Yes; but I prefer them living."
       "Living flowers--what a poetic idea! But what do you mean?" asked Grace Plumer, hanging her head.
       Abel saw somebody on the cane sofa under the great orange-tree, almost hidden in the shade. Dear Fanny! thought he.
       "My dear Grace," began Abel, in his lowest, sweetest voice; but the conservatory was so still that the words could have been easily heard by any one sitting upon the sofa.
       Some one was sitting there--some one did hear. Abel smiled in his heart, and bent more closely to his companion. His manner was full of tender devotion. He and Grace came nearer. Some one not only heard, but started. Abel raised his eyes smilingly to meet Fanny's. Somebody else started then; for under the great orange-tree, on the cane sofa, sat Lawrence Newt and Hope Wayne. _
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本书目录

Chapter 1. School Begins
Chapter 2. Hope Wayne
Chapter 3. Ave Maria!
Chapter 4. Night
Chapter 5. Peewee Preaching
Chapter 6. Experimentum Crucis
Chapter 7. Castle Dangerous
Chapter 8. After The Battle
Chapter 9. News From Home
Chapter 10. Beginning To Sketch
Chapter 11. A Verdict And A Sentence
Chapter 12. Help, Ho!
Chapter 13. Society
Chapter 14. A New York Merchant
Chapter 15. A School-Boy No Longer
Chapter 16. Philosophy
Chapter 17. Of Girls And Flowers
Chapter 18. Old Friends And New
Chapter 19. Dog-Days
Chapter 20. Aunt Martha
Chapter 21. The Campaign
Chapter 22. The Fine Arts
Chapter 23. Boniface Newt, Son, And Co., Dry Goods On Commission
Chapter 24. "Queen And Huntress"
Chapter 25. A Statesman--And Stateswoman
Chapter 26. The Portrait And The Miniature
Chapter 27. Gabriel At Home
Chapter 28. Born To Be A Bachelor
Chapter 29. Mr. Abel Newt, Grand Street
Chapter 30. Check
Chapter 31. At Delmonico's
Chapter 32. Mrs. Theodore Kingfisher At Home. On Dansera
Chapter 33. Another Turn In The Waltz
Chapter 34. Heaven's Last Best Gift
Chapter 35. Mother-In-Law And Daughter-In-Law
Chapter 36. The Back Window
Chapter 37. Abel Newt, Vice Sligo Moultrie Removed
Chapter 38. The Day After The Wedding
Chapter 39. A Field-Day
Chapter 40. At The Round Table
Chapter 41. A Little Dinner
Chapter 42. Clearing And Cloudy
Chapter 43. Walking Home
Chapter 44. Church Going
Chapter 45. In Church
Chapter 46. In Another Church
Chapter 47. Death
Chapter 48. The Heiress
Chapter 49. A Select Party
Chapter 50. Wine And Truth
Chapter 51. A Warning
Chapter 52. Breakers
Chapter 53. Sligo Moultrie Vice Abel Newt
Chapter 54. Clouds And Darkness
Chapter 55. Arthur Merlin's Great Picture
Chapter 56. Redivivus
Chapter 57. Dining With Lawrence Newt
Chapter 58. The Health Of The Junior Partner
Chapter 59. Mrs. Alfred Dinks
Chapter 60. Politics
Chapter 61. Gone To Protest
Chapter 62. The Crash, Up Town
Chapter 63. Endymion
Chapter 64. Diana
Chapter 65. The Will Of The People
Chapter 66. Mentor And Telemachus
Chapter 67. Wires
Chapter 68. The Industrious Apprentice
Chapter 69. In And Out
Chapter 70. The Representative Of The People
Chapter 71. Riches Have Wings
Chapter 72. Good-By
Chapter 73. The Belch Platform
Chapter 74. Midnight
Chapter 75. Reminiscence
Chapter 76. A Social Glass
Chapter 77. Face To Face
Chapter 78. Finishing Pictures
Chapter 79. The Last Throw
Chapter 80. Clouds Breaking
Chapter 81. Mrs. Alfred Dinks At Home
Chapter 82. The Lost Is Found
Chapter 83. Mrs. Delilah Jones
Chapter 84. Prospects Of Happiness
Chapter 85. Getting Ready
Chapter 86. In The City
Chapter 87. A Long Journey
Chapter 88. Waiting
Chapter 89. Dust To Dust
Chapter 90. Under The Misletoe