Chapter 14

A PLEASANT EVENING.

Gilbert was presented to a pleasant-looking lady, whom Laura introduced as her mother.

�I am glad to see you, Mr. Greyson,� she said, cordially; �I supposed Laura would bring you in here at once, but it seemed to be her intention to monopolize you.�

�We had important business to talk over, mamma.�

�Very important, no doubt. How do you like the city, Mr. Greyson?�

�I think I shall like it after I am better acquainted,� Gilbert answered.

�You haven�t introduced me, Laura,� said her brother Fred, in an aggrieved tone.

�Gilbert,� said Laura, �let me introduce to your favorable notice my brother Fred, who, in his own opinion, is a model of all the virtues.�

�I am glad to meet him. I never saw a model boy before,� said Gilbert, pleasantly.

�I never pretended to be a model boy,� said Fred. �Laura�s only chaffing.�

�Where did you pick up that word, Fred?� said his mother.

�Isn�t it a good word, mamma? It�s just what she does.�

�Fred has just commenced Latin,� said Laura, �but I am afraid, from his own story, that it is just wearing out his constitution.�

�I don�t see any good in it,� said Fred. �Do you know Latin, Mr. Greyson?�

�I have studied it some.�

�How far have you been?�

�I have read C�sar and Virgil.�

�Oh, then you know a lot about it. I�m only in the second declension.�

�You don�t like it, then?�

�Not much. I don�t see how anybody could ever talk such stuff.�

�You will be more interested in it as you get on further. That was the way with me. I wasn�t in love with it at first.�

�I hope so,� said Fred.

Here Mr. Vivian entered, and greeted Gilbert cordially.

�I told Laura to keep you,� he said. �What have you been doing since we met?�

�I have got a place, or rather Mr. Briggs got one for me.�

�What sort of a place?�

�I am with Mr. Sands, a stock-broker. His office is on Wall Street.�

�I know of him, though I don�t personally know him. How do you like your new situation?�

�I have not been there long enough to decide. I like Mr. Sands.�

�Are you still an inmate of Mr. Briggs� house?�

�No, sir; I am boarding on Clinton Place, near Broadway.�

�You find that more convenient to your office?�

�Yes, sir.�

�Then you have fairly got started in your business career. I hope you may be successful.�

�Thank you, sir.�

�I believe you told me that your money, of which Mr. Briggs had charge, has been entirely expended on your education?�

�Yes, sir.�

�Are you compelled, then, to live on your weekly wages?�

�I don�t think I could do that very well, as they only amount to five dollars a week. Mr. Briggs offered to pay my board, and let me use this for other expenses. I don�t like to have him do it, but he insists upon it.�

�That seems kind,� said Mr. Vivian. �Was it your idea, or his, to go to a boarding-house?�

�I suspect,� said Gilbert, hesitating, for he was not clear whether he ought to tell this, �that it was Mrs. Briggs� idea. From the first, she has not seemed to like me.�

�I don�t like her looks,� said Laura; �I have seen her several times. You know, papa, she was at the same hotel with us at Saratoga. She looks cross.�

�You must not speak too hastily against people, Laura,� said Mrs. Vivian.

�I suspect Laura only shares the general feeling,� said Mr. Vivian. �Mrs. Briggs is, by no means, a favorite in society.�

�Nor Randolph, either,� added Laura.

�I thought he was a beau of yours, Laura,� said her father, slyly.

�He never was, papa. I used to meet him at dancing-school, and I have danced with him there; but that is the end of our acquaintance. If he bows to me I bow back, but I don�t care to know any more of him.�

�Can�t we have a little music, Laura?� asked her father.

�I only play a little. Do you play, Gilbert?�

�No, Miss Laura.�

�Or sing?�

�A little.�

�Then I�ll make a bargain; I will play if you will sing.�

�I hardly feel prepared to sing in company.�

�This isn�t company. You needn�t mind any of us. Fred, open the folding-doors, will you?�

The piano was in the parlor adjoining. The doors were thrown open, and Laura sat down to the piano. Two or three songs were selected, and Gilbert sang to Laura�s accompaniment. He had a good voice, and a correct ear, and the double performance passed off smoothly.

�Doesn�t your brother sing?� asked Gilbert.

�Fred? He don�t know one tune from another; besides, he don�t like the piano. The hand-organ is his favorite instrument.�

�I mean to buy one when I am rich enough,� said Fred.

�Shall you go around with it?� asked Laura; �or only keep it in the parlor for the entertainment of visitors?�

�You may laugh as much as you like,� said Fred; �but a hand-organ, that is, a good one, sounds splendid.�

�Did you ever see such a barbarian? Gilbert, what else do you sing?�

The evening slipped away almost before they were aware. To Gilbert, it was positively delightful. Not that he was in love with Laura, but, never having had a sister, it was an agreeable novelty to him to meet a young girl so frank and attractive as Laura.

�I hope you will come again soon, Mr. Greyson,� said Mrs. Vivian, when our hero rose to take his leave.

�Yes, do come,� said Laura.

�I shall consider it a privilege to call,� said Gilbert, with sincerity.

�By the way,� said Mr. Vivian, �I have taken several tickets for a concert in Steinway Hall next Wednesday evening. I have a spare one for you, Mr. Greyson, if you have no engagement.�

�I shall be very glad to accept one, sir.�

�Then come up to dinner that evening; we dine at six. We will all go together.�

�Am I to go?� asked Fred.

�There will be a ticket for you, if you would like to go, though I am afraid you won�t enjoy the classical music you will hear.�

�No matter,� said Fred, �I�ll go, though I�d rather go to a circus.�

�If there were only a hand-organ, Fred would enjoy it,� suggested Laura.

�Well, Gilbert, what sort of a time did you have?� asked Mr. Ingalls, when his room-mate returned.

�Delightful! I am going to dine there next Wednesday.�

�It seems to me you are making a favorable impression in that quarter.�

�I hope so.�

A knock was heard at the door.

�Come in,� said Mr. Ingalls.

Mr. Alphonso Jones opened the door and entered.

�Excuse my late intrusion, gents,� he said. �And how did you find the Vivians, Mr. Greyson?�

�Very well, thank you.�

�They are very high-toned people.�

�I presume so, but I am not much of a judge,� said Gilbert

�Probably,� said Mr. Ingalls, �you do not know as many of that class as Mr. Jones. Did you find the Montmorencys well, Mr. Jones?�

�Quite so, thank you. Mrs. Montmorency has had a bad cold; but she has quite recovered now. They talk of going to Europe next summer.�

�Do they, indeed? How you will miss them!�

�To be sure. However, I have many other friends in the first circles whom I can visit. I suppose, Mr. Greyson, the Vivians have a fine house?�

�It seems very comfortable.�

�The Montmorencys live in a perfect palace. I wish you could see it.�

�I wish I could, Mr. Jones,� said Mr. Ingalls; �but you wouldn�t take me, you know.�

�I couldn�t, Mr. Ingalls, as I explained to you. They are so very exclusive.�

�I wonder visiting such fine houses doesn�t make you dissatisfied with your own home.�

�Oh, my tastes are very plain,� said Alphonso.

��Mid pleasures and palaces though I may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there�s no place like home.��

�Some of your own poetry, Mr. Jones?� asked Mr. Ingalls, demurely.

�No, it�s Shakespeare or Byron,� answered Jones; �I forget which. Good-evening, gents.�

�Would you like to know where Mr. Jones spent the evening, Gilbert?� asked his room-mate.

�On Fifth Avenue?�

�No. Mr. Tarbox followed him, and saw him enter a billiard-saloon on the Bowery. Jones is a first-class humbug.�