CHAPTER XXI.THE LADIES AT SCHUYLER HILL.
Miss Christine Rossiter, aged 46; Miss Alice Creighton, aged 17; Miss Julia Schuyler, aged 16; and Miss Emma, aged 14. These were the ladies who, a good portion of the year, were domesticated at Schuyler Hill, and of whom I will speak in order; and first of Miss Rossiter, whose personal appearance and peculiarities Godfrey had of course exaggerated when he talked of her to Edith. She was his mother’s sister, and forty-six, and had once been engaged to a young man who left her all his money, and for whom she wore black half a dozen years, during which time she gave herself to the church, and went so far as to think of turning Romanist, and hiding her grief in a convent. But she recovered from that, and being good-looking, and only thirty, with a fortune of half a million, she went back to the world again, and became a belle, for she was a handsome woman still, and at times exceedingly brilliant and witty, the result, it was whispered at last, of opium-eating in secret. This habit she had contracted during her seclusion, with a view to deaden her grief, and make her sleep at night. And after the grief was over the habit remained, and grew upon her constantly, until now she was never without her vial of the deadly stuff, and her nerves were completely shattered with the poison.
Exceedingly proud and exclusive, she held herself above the most of her acquaintances, and made them feel that she did, and still exercised over them an influence which would draw every one of them to her side when she wished them to come.
Few women understood the art of dressing better than she did, and when arrayed in evening costume, with her diamonds and her lace, she was still a very handsome and attractive woman, capable of entertaining a roomful of guests, and keeping them delighted with her ready wit and brilliant repartees. She should never marry, she said, and yet more than Godfrey believedthat she had no objection to becoming Mrs. Schuyler second, if only she were asked to do so. Since her sister’s death she had spent most of her time at the Hill, giving as an excuse that “Emily’s children needed a mother’s care so badly,” while Howard was always happier to have her there.
Of this last there might have been two opinions, but the colonel was a peaceable man, and always made her welcome, and humored her whims and listened to her advice when he chose to do so, and offered no remonstrance when she appropriated to herself the very best and pleasantest room in the house, the one with the bay-window overlooking the river and the mountains, and which, as it chanced to be in the south wing, was one of the suite intended for Edith, and which she surrendered, with what reluctance we shall see hereafter.
Alice Creighton was Col. Schuyler’s ward and the niece of the wife of Mrs. Schuyler’s half brother, the Rev. John Calvert, who lived in New York, and whose house was properly her home, though she spent much of her time at Schuyler Hill, where her education was progressing under the direction of Miss Browning, the governess. Short, fat, and chubby, with light hair and eyes and complexion, and a nose that turned up decidedly, she was not very pretty, save as young, happy girlhood is always pretty, but she was very stylish, which answered instead of beauty, and made her remarked wherever she went. Whatever was fashionable she wore in the extreme, and at the little church in Hampstead there was on Sundays a great deal of curiosity among the village girls to see the last new style, as represented by Miss Creighton. And after they saw it they copied it as far as was possible, and then found to their surprise that what they had adopted as the latest in the beau-monde, was laid aside for something later by their mirror of fashion.
She expected to marry Godfrey, for the arrangement had been settled between her father, before he died, and Col. Howard Schuyler; and Alice acquiesced in it, and looked confidently forward to a time when she would have a house of her own and furnish it as no house in New York had ever yet been furnished, and keep seven servants at least, with horses and carriages, andnothing to do from morning till night but enjoy herself, and be envied in doing it. To all this grandeur Godfrey would be a very proper appendage. He was good-looking, and came from a family superior even to her own; he could be a gentleman when he chose, and would look very nicely beside her in the Park and at the opera, and when she entered the drawing-rooms on Fifth Avenue on some festive occasion.
This was Miss Alice Creighton, as nearly as I can daguerreotype her at the time of which I write, while Julia Schuyler was much like her in disposition, but different in looks.
Julia was tall and slender, and a brunette, with clear, olive complexion, high color, sparkling black eyes, and a quantity of glossy, black hair, of which she was very proud, and which she usually wore becomingly, let the fashion be what it might. Some people called her beautiful, but that she could never be with her wide mouth and large ears, but she certainly was handsome and bright, and could, if she chose, be very agreeable and fascinating, but, except with her equals, she did not often choose, and was known in town as a proud, haughty girl, caring only for herself and the few favored ones belonging to her circle. And yet she taught in Sunday-school, and made dresses and aprons for the poor, and esteemed herself almost a saint, because she once carried with her own hands a dish of soup to poor, old, bedridden Mrs. Vandeusenhisen, whose grandchild was called for Alice at the instigation of the mischievous Godfrey.
Both Julia and Alice went sometimes on errands of mercy, and wore gray cloaks with scarlet facings to the cape, and felt themselves on a par with the sisters of charity, and had a lump of camphor in their pockets to prevent contagion, and asked the little ones if they knew the Creed, and the Lord’s Prayer, and the Ten Commandments, affecting great surprise if they did not, and telling them if they did that they ought to be confirmed at once and grow up respectable citizens.
Very different from these young ladies was pale-faced, quiet Emma, who believed everybody to be what he seemed, and wished herself as good as Alice and Julia, who were so devoutat church, and who read a long chapter every morning and a short psalm every night. Emma did not like to read the Bible, and always glanced ahead to see how long the chapter was, and felt glad when it was ended. And she did not like to visit the poor because as a general thing the close air of the rooms made her sick, and she was always unhappy for a whole day with thinking about them and fancying how she would feel were she also poor.
And yet of the three girls I liked Emma best, for I knew just how true, and honest, and innocent she was, and that though she too was proud, she tried to overcome her pride, because she thought it wrong, and in her heart had a sincere desire to do just what was right. No one ever called Emma handsome; her features were too sharp for that, but there was something in her smile and the expression of her soft, dark eyes which made her very attractive, and, as I thought, prettier than Julia herself.
Take them altogether the ladies at Schuyler Hill were quitedistinguéin manner and appearance, and we were rather proud to have them with us, for their presence added something of importance to our little town, and gave a certainéclatto our society. Nor was their governess, Miss Helen Browning, much behind in style and personal appearance. Indeed, she prided herself upon manner and good breeding, and knew every point of etiquette, from sitting bolt-upright in her chair, with just the two tips of her boots visible, to eating soup with the side of her spoon, and never on any account allowing her hands to touch the table.
And now, last of all, comes Mrs. Tiffe, the housekeeper, a dignified, energetic woman of fifty, who wore black silk every day, with pink ribbons in her cap, and who, after several hard-fought battles with Miss Rossiter for the supremacy, had come off victorious, and reigned triumphant at Schuyler Hill, where she feared no one save the colonel himself, and liked no one but Godfrey. He was her idol, and he alone could unlock the mysterious closet under the stairs, and call forth jam, and jelly, and even marmalade, if he liked. Such lunches as she gave the ladies when they were alone, and Godfrey not there to coax,or the colonel to insist! A chicken wing and back, with a slice of bread and butter, and possibly a baked apple, if there chanced to be any “standing round” in danger of spoiling; while her breakfasts were delicate and dainty enough for a fairy, or the worst form which dyspepsia ever assumed. “Frugal repasts,” Godfrey called them; but for their frugality Mrs. Tiffe made amends at dinner, which was served with great profusion, and all the elegance the house could command. Nothing was too nice for dinner; and Mrs. Tiffe, felt her heart swell with pride when she saw her ladies, handsomely dressed, filing into the spacious dining-room, where the table was bright with silver and flowers. To her the Schuylers and Rossiters represented the world, and anybody outside that world, unless it were Miss Creighton, was looked upon with disgust, and barely tolerated. Miss Christine, it is true, was not a favorite, but she was a Rossiter, and Mrs. Tiffe charged all her faults to the fact that “she was an old maid, and couldn’t help being queer,” and so endured her quietly when her own wishes were not opposed.
And this was the household into which the news of Col. Schuyler’s second marriage fell like a bombshell in the enemy’s camp, wounding each one, and wringing from each one a cry according to her disposition. But for a description of this I must take a fresh sheet and begin another chapter.