An American Story of Real Life CHAPTER 1.
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"Are you going to Mr. Martin's grand party tomorrow evening, Harry?" asked one young man of another, as they lounged in the bar-room of the Mansion House.
"Of course I am. Will you be there?"
"O, yes. I never miss being present on such occasions. But say, Harry, are you serious in that matter about pretty Bell?"
"Am I? What a question for you to ask! Certainly I am."
"Do you think you can get around the old man, her father?"
"I can try. My family is as good as his. So you see we are even there. But I don't think much about him, now. I must first get the right side of Bell."
"How do you expect to manage that?"
"By talking sentiment, paying her the most flattering attentions possible, and being her most humble servant on all occasions."
"She will have a splendid fortune."
"There is no mistake about that!"
"How large do you think?"
"I have ascertained, pretty certainly, that old Martin is worth about nine hundred thousand dollars. He has two children. They will divide at his death over three hundred thousand dollars a piece, after the widow's one-third has been taken out. And she, of course, is not going to live forever."
"Of course not. And you would come in, if you had the daughter, for half of that sum also."
"Exactly. Now isn't there a glorious prospect before me?"
"There is, really. A golden opportunity, like this, must not pass, unimproved."
"Nor will it."
"How do you stand with Bell?"
"Pretty fair, I think. Last week I was at a party with her, and broke the ice. She is young, you know, and as frank and innocent as a child. I really felt my heart warm toward her."
"Indeed! That was a phenomenon!" said the friend laughing.
"Wasn't it! But don't be alarmed. I'm not going to fall in love with her until I find the coast clear."
"Don't, if you please, or I shall be compelled to cut your acquaintance."
"Never fear. A young man of my habits can't afford to fall in love, unless he is sure of success."
"And certain of gaining a fortune!"
"Of course. That was pre-supposed."
"Are you going to buy that splendid pair of horses, belonging to Porter, which you drove out yesterday?"
"I wish to do so."
"He asks twelve hundred dollars for them, I believe."
"Yes. But I think would not refuse a thousand if laid down before him."
"Why don't you take them, Harry? They are worth all of that."
"We sounded my old man about it. But he doesn't look hopeful."
"What a bore! I wonder if either of us will ever get our fingers upon some of our dads' cash, to spend it as we please?"
"I hope so, one of these days. Won't I put it in circulation, then!" snapping his fingers, and winking with a knowing look.
"What an annoyance it is," said the companion of the one called Harry, "to have rich old fathers like ours, to tantalize us with the idea of wealth in prospective--while they give us but the mere trifle of two or three thousand a year to spend."
"It is indeed! But what do you think? My old man told me, yesterday, that he thought it high time that I was beginning to do something."
"Do something!"
"Yes."
"What did he mean by that?"
"Open an office for the practice of law, I suppose. You know that, to please him, I studied law for a year or two--squeezed through an examination, and entered as a member of the Philadelphia bar."
"Yes, I remember now; ha! ha! And he wanted you to put up your shingle, and come into association with the filth and off-scouring of this righteous city--pickpockets, thieves, blackguards, etc."
"Yes, that was it."
"But you had no notion of such a thing?"
"Not I! Why do I want to practice law, or do anything else! Hasn't the old man plenty of money? Aren't I born a gentleman? Let the common herd work, say I!"
"Ditto. Only about every tenth man that is born, as someone has said, can afford to do nothing. Thank fortune! I am one of the ten!"
"So is this child. It's no use for the old man to talk to me. I'm not going to open an office and stick up my name, to be reduced in public estimation to a mere quibbling lawyer."
"But wouldn't it be policy for you to do so?"
"How?"
"To make fair weather with old Martin."
"How would my opening an office make fair weather with him?"
"He is a merchant?"
"Yes."
"And by industry and enterprise has quadrupled the fortune left him by his father."
"So I have heard it said."
"From persevering in industrious habits himself, he has, doubtless, come to have a high estimation of industry in others."
"There may be something in that?"
"Naturally, then, he would be inclined to think favorably of a young man, pursuing, with apparent industry, some business or profession, while he would look unfavorably upon one whom he would call a mere idler."
"I see the force of what you say; and wonder that the idea never presented itself to my mind. But don't you think the fact of my being known as only a young lawyer, would lessen my estimation in the eyes of Bell?"
"I don't know. Perhaps it might."
"I fear so. She's a young romantic thing, and the idea of a common worker--for all these lawyers and merchants, and the like, are as much workers as mere mechanics--might give her a prejudice against me."
"There is force in that view."
"And suppose some foreign earl, or count were to come along and take a notion to her--what chance would a mere lawyer have? None at all. O, no! I must still keep up the gentleman, until I've got her hooked--and then for scheming it over the old codger, her father!"
"I believe you are right, Harry. But come, let's have a drink, and then for a ride out to Howell's."
The two young sprigs of American aristocracy, then turned to the bar, and each a took a strong glass of brandy punch, preparatory to their ride into the country. Fifteen minutes afterward, they were dashing up Chestnut Street behind a pair of beautiful horses, owned by the friend of Harry, or Henry Ware--with feelings of contempt for the spiritless pedestrians who plodded along the sidewalks.
The reader needs no further description of their characters, than what they have themselves given, to be able to understand them fully. Both were sons of wealthy merchants, wrongly educated. The systematic labor by which their parents had risen into wealth and station in society--they despised as something degrading. Idle pleasure seemed to them the only worthy object of pursuit. Everything else was beneath the station and dignity of true gentlemen. Spendthrifts--the liberal supplies of money furnished them with a false liberality by their fathers, were altogether insufficient to meet their growing and extravagant wants. Hence, the means of obtaining more inexhaustible and independent supplies, soon formed part of their thoughts.
They had become men, and, as men, were annoyed by what they esteemed the niggardly parental offerings. To such, marriage presents the only way to obtain the large amount of money called for by extravagant habits and unsatisfied desires. And to thoughts of marriage, their minds, especially that of Henry Ware, turned; and he was about entering, as has been seen, with no small degree of tact and earnestness, upon the business he had laid out as necessary to be done--it is said, necessary to be done, for only in a business light did young Ware view the matter. If he had been in possession of as much money as he wanted--he would have thought of a wife about the last thing. With such anencumbrance, he would have been very far from burdening himself.
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