"Oh, that's a pity; I am really sorry, for I wanted you to be of our party; only I couldn't have you run away with my friend Jane.

Silence gives consent, Jane. You didn't answer my note, this morning."

"Perhaps I had better not go at all," said Jane, not a little perplexed. "Mamma is not at home, and will not know what has become of me."

"Nonsense, child; Mrs. Graham will know you are in very good hands. You have been out with me a hundred times before, and you surely don't think there is any more danger because Tallman is of the party."

"I hope not," added young Taylor, in an insinuating manner; "I'm a first-rate whip, Miss Graham."

"Now, just tell the truth; didn't you mean to go with me, before Mr. Hazlehurst came in?" said Adeline--"no fibbing, mind."

"I only received your note ten minutes since," replied Jane; "but I did think of going with you."

"I should like to know why you hesitate, then. First come, first served. Now, the best thing you can do, Mr. Hazlehurst, is to change your mind, and ask one of the Miss Howards, and join our party, too. I really wish you would!"

"You are very good," said Harry, coldly; "but I must beg you to excuse me."

Jane allowed herself to be shawled and cloaked by young Taylor, and the affair was settled. But Harry thought she did not seem quite satisfied with herself, for she changed colour several times, and he even remarked that her fingers trembled as she tied the strings of her hat. This rather softened his feelings towards her; but he still felt extremely provoked with the meddling Adeline, and her officious brother. As he did not wish to play the worsted man, however, he tried to put a good face on the matter, and accompanied the party down-stairs, helped the ladies into the sleigh, wished them a pleasant drive, and went off himself, at a rapid pace, towards the Long-Island ferry.

He was exceedingly out of humour with Adeline, and reproached Jane not a little for allowing herself to be so often guided by her trifling friend. The occurrence of the morning, hastened his determination to bring matters to a conclusion. That very evening should decide the point. He must have been more than modest to have doubted the result; Jane's manner he had long thought just what he could wish from one so little demonstrative as herself.

Hubert de Vaux, it is true, had been very a.s.siduous of late, but Jane had never given him any sign of preference, sufficient to excite Harry's jealousy. Mr. Graham was expected every day from Charleston, to pa.s.s the remainder of the winter with his family; as he had already given one daughter to the elder Hazlehurst, and no serious objection could be raised against Harry, his prospects were very promising. Before long, the gentle, lovely Jane would be his own; his would be the enviable lot, of carrying off the beautiful prize.

Hazlehurst had time to make these reflections, and disperse his ill-humour, before he reached the wharf at Brooklyn. Here he met Charlie Hubbard, whom he had not seen for some time, not, indeed, since his rupture with the Wyllyses. Charlie's greeting was not quite as warm as usual; he did not seem as much pleased at this unexpected meeting, and the offer of a seat in Harry's cutter, as one might have supposed. Hazlehurst was so cordial, however, and urged the young painter so much to take a turn with him on the Island, that, after a little hesitation, Hubbard accepted.

"Come, Charlie; I am sure you haven't any very good reason for not making the most of the snow, like the rest of us."

"Perhaps not," said Charlie; and he took his seat with Harry.

Hubbard gave a good account of himself and his family. He had received several orders; and his pet picture of the moment was going on finely. His youngest sister was in town, taking music lessons, to fit her for her future occupation; and he had just sent Miss Patsey a pair of globes for her school, as a New Year's gift; the most expensive present, by-the-bye, Charlie had ever made in his life.

"I feel quite rich," said the young man, "since I pocketed a hundred a-piece for my two views of Nahant. To be sure, I never expect to make a fortune; if I can earn enough to support my mother and sister, and paint only such pictures as I please, that is all I want of the good things of this world."

"It's all very well to say so now, Charlie, that you have received your two hundred; but wait till you are the great Mr.

Hubbard, and expect two thousand for your last view of Coney-Island."

"That day will never come, to me, or to any other man, perhaps, in this country," replied young Hubbard. "I go to work with my eyes open, as you well know. My uncles have talked the matter over with me a hundred times, if they have once; they have showed me what I could do if I took to making money, and what I could not do if I took to painting. They have offered to help me on; Mr. Taylor would take me into his counting-house, to-morrow; and Hilson offers to make me an auctioneer. But I have chosen my profession, and I shall abide by it. I have no wish for wealth. I should never be tempted to sell my soul for money--no, nor my good name, or my independence: for I do not feel willing to barter even my time and tastes for riches. I can honestly say, money has no charms for me. A comfortable subsistence, in a very moderate way, is all I should ask for."

"I know it, Hubbard, and I honour your decision," said Hazlehurst, warmly. "It is impossible, however, but that genius like yours should make its way; and I hope you may meet with all the success you deserve, even though it bring you more money than you wish for: one of these days when there is a Mrs. Hubbard, you may want more than you require now."

A shade of feeling pa.s.sed over the young artist's fine face, as Harry carelessly uttered these words; it seemed to spring from some painful thought. It was un.o.bserved by Hazlehurst, however, who was not looking at his companion at the moment. Charlie was soon roused by Harry's inquiries as to his plans for travelling in Europe. The young men then spent a pleasant hour in discussing different works of the great masters, which Hubbard, as yet, knew only from engravings and books. Surrounded by snow and ice, they talked over the atmospheres of Italy and Greece.

CHAPTER XXII.

"Happy New-Year!"

THE streets had been cleared of the snow for New-Year's day, by a thaw, and a hard shower in the night. The sun rose bright and clear; and, as usual, early in the morning, that is to say morning in its fashionable sense, the greater part of the male population of the town were in motion, hurrying in all directions towards the houses of their female friends and relatives. It appeared as if the women had suddenly deserted the city, and the men were running about, half-distracted, in pursuit of them.

After the markets and churches were closed, few indeed were the females to be seen in the streets; while, on the contrary, troops of men of all ages, were hurrying over the side-walks of Broadway, usually enlivened by the gay dresses and bright faces of the ladies. There were young men running a race against time, carrying lists in their hands with an impossible number of visits to be paid during the day; there were boys taking their first steps in this yearly course of gallantry; there were elderly men walking more leisurely from one favoured house to another. All, but a few grumblers here and there, looked smiling and good-humoured. As the black-coated troop hastened hither and thither, they jostled one another, now nodding, now shaking hands; here, old friends pa.s.sing without seeing each other; there, a couple of strangers salute one another in the warmest manner. The doors of the houses seemed to open of themselves; men were going in, men were coming out. The negroes looked more l.u.s.trous and light-hearted than ever; the Paddies, cleaner and more bothered; the regular Knickerbockers, to the manner born, were, of course, in their element.

{"visits" = for men to make short calls at as many homes as possible on New Year's Day was an old New York City custom; "Paddies" = Irish; "Knickerbockers" = traditional term for native New Yorkers}

We have heard nice calculations as to the precise number of calls, that an able-bodied, well-trained New-Year's visiter can accomplish between midnight and midnight; allowing, of course, a couple of hours for the toilette, and a moment to s.n.a.t.c.h a mouthful at breakfast and dinner: it is affirmed, however, that as great generals have pa.s.sed days of battle without food, so your chivalrous Knickerbocker should be willing to forego, on such an occasion, even a sight of the roast turkey and cranberries. Allowing the individual, however, something to sustain nature, that he may be the better enabled to perform his duties, it is supposed that a beau, in good visiting condition, should pay his court in not more than three hundred, nor less than fifty drawing-rooms. But, then, to do this, a man must have method; he must draw up his plan of action before-hand; he must portion out his districts, as they lie on each side of that longest of streets, Broadway; he must not only study the map of the city closely, but he must possess an accurate knowledge of the localities; he must remember that some houses have stoops of twelve steps, that some drawing-rooms are not on the first floor.

He must NOT allow himself to be enticed into any flirtation whatever, beyond a glance or a smile; he must NOT indulge the hope of calling twice upon the sweet creature he most admires; he must NOT be tempted to sink, even for a moment, upon the most comfortable of ottomans or divans; he must NOT return home to re-adjust his locks, to change either boots, gloves, or handkerchief. We have heard it a.s.serted, that owing to some unfortunate weakness of this kind, many a promising youth, unaccustomed, probably, to the hardships of such visiting, has been distanced in the gallant race of the day, by more methodical men--by men who were actually enc.u.mbered with over-shoes and greatcoats!

It is amusing to watch the hurried steps of some experienced visiter without doors; the decision of his movements, the correctness of his calculation in pa.s.sing out of one house into another; and one is sure to know a raw recruit, by his anxious, perplexed manner and expression.

The scene within doors is quite as amusing as it is without.

Everything wears a holiday look; it is evidently no common morning reception; the ladies' dresses look gayer and fresher, their smiles brighter than usual; the house, the furniture, and the inmates, all wear their most agreeable aspect. The salver of refreshments speaks at once the occasion; for there, in the midst of richer cakes, stands the basket of homely "New-Years'

cookies," bequeathed to their descendants by the worthy vrows of New-Amsterdam. The visiters appear, first singly, then in parties. Here comes a favourite partner of the young ladies, there a mere bowing acquaintance of the master of the house. This is an old family friend, that a neighbour who has never been in the house before; here is a near relative, there a pa.s.sing stranger. The grey-haired old gentleman who has the arm-chair wheeled out for him, announces his fiftieth visiting anniversary; the buckish youth, his grandson, has already made his bow, and off again; so {sic} finish his gallant duties. Now we have a five minutes visit from a declared lover; and who follows him? One who advances slowly and steadily, with a half-inquiring look; the lady of the house sees him, gives a glance of surprise, is gratified, accepts the offered hand immediately. That is a reconciliation; old friendship broken off, now renewed, a misunderstanding forgotten--that is one of the pleasantest visits of the day. All come, bow, look, and speak their friendly good-wishes, and are off again to make room for others.

{"New Years' cookies" = the Dutch in New York had special recipes for cakes and "cookies" for each major holiday, such as New Year's Day; vrows" = wives, in old Dutch New York}

Long may this pleasant, cheerful, good-natured, lively custom be perpetuated among us! As long as the side-walks of Manhattan and the ca.n.a.ls of Amsterdam last, so long may Santa Claus bring his Christmas gifts to the little folk; and so long may the gallant Knickerbockers pay to their female friends the homage of a PERSONAL visit at New-Year's. Cards on every other day in the year, if necessary; but, on New Year's, carry your good wishes in person. Should not, indeed, a custom so pleasant spread throughout the whole country, like crackers, waffles, Dutch blood, and many other good things brought originally from Holland?

On the particular New-Year's day at which we have arrived in our narrative, an individual of the reader's acquaintance, instead of joining the busy throng of visiters, was seen turning his steps through a bye-street, towards the Battery. He walked slowly through Greenwich-Street, apparently busy with thoughts of his own, and entering the Battery-Gate he continued for some time pacing the paved walk near the water.

"There is a fellow who seems to have nothing to do to-day," said a young man to his companion, as they were hurrying across the Battery from one end of State-Street to the other. "I should like to hire him as proxy, to show himself in a score or two of houses in my place. I should hand him over half my list at once, if I thought the ladies would submit to the exchange; he looks like a presentable chap, too."

"Why, it is actually Harry Hazlehurst! What can he be doing, moping about in that fashion?"

"Hazlehurst, is it? Oh, ho!--you have heard the hubbub they have had at the Graham's, I suppose?"

"Not I--What is it?"

"There was quite a scene there, yesterday; my sister had the news from Adeline Taylor, a great friend of her's; so it comes very straight."

"I thought all was going on there as smoothly as possible. I expected an invitation to the wedding before long."

"To be sure; so did everybody. But it seems the beauty has ideas of her own. In the first place she refused Hazlehurst, rather to the astonishment of himself and all his friends, I believe."

"Refused Hazlehurst!--You don't say so!"

"And that is only half the story. She took the same opportunity, while weeping and trembling, to confide to her mamma that her heart had been for some time, how long I cannot tell you precisely, the property of Tall. Taylor."

"What, Tallman Taylor? That is news, indeed--I never should have dreamt of such a thing."

"Miss Adeline Taylor is the authority. It seems the affair has been going on, no one knows how long, and Miss Taylor has had the management of it. These girls are sly minxes; they are not to be trusted, half of them."

"And what says Taylor to all this?"

"What does he say? Why he is in a sort of ecstasy of despair, I suppose; for the Grahams won't hear of the match. It was no news to him; they have been engaged, I tell you, for months,"

At that moment the two young men entered the door of a house in State-Street. Although their story was, upon the whole, correct; yet, we happen to be still better informed on the subject, and shall proceed to account, in our own way, for Hazlehurst's solitary walk.

When Miss Adeline and her party had returned from sleighing, Harry went to Mrs. Graham's, and finding Jane alone, he immediately seized the moment to explain himself, beginning by a lover-like remonstrance upon her having joined the Taylors, instead of going with him as she had already promised to do. Jane was excessively embarra.s.sed. As Harry proceeded, she became more and more agitated. Her manner was so confused, that it was some time before Hazlehurst could understand that she wished to refuse him. Had she not actually wept, and looked frightened and distressed, he might have given a very different interpretation to her embarra.s.sment. At length, in answer to a decided question of his, she confessed her attachment to another person; and, never was lover more surprised by such an acknowledgement.

Pained, and mortified, and astonished as Harry was, the name of "Hubert de Vaux!" pa.s.sed his lips before he was aware he had spoken.

"Oh, no; no;" said Jane. "I never cared at all for Mr. de Vaux."