Life — December 9, 1886 — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

> LIFE: 3 Newport, I believe; and we ae es Slo, never see him at Lenox, or at Duckseater Park in Octo- ber, or at Fakewood in win- ter. He isn’t the sort of man that I expected I should fall in—— If he only wouldn’t be so pale, at times! Yet, perhaps that is my fault. -What was his family? No one seems to know. Oh, of course, he is impos- sible. But how funny ”— she laughed, yet trembled —“to think of marry- ing a ghost!” While she was thus meditating, a low, nearly inaudible rumbling sound had accompanied her reve- tie. She began to notice it, and fancied at first that it was the wind in the chim- ney; but soon she concluded that it came from the burning wood in the fireplace—for a wood-fire often murmurs in this way, as if the logs were talking to themselves, or -under the genial influence of heat, were pouring forth drowsy confidential se- crets, long ago stored up in their fibres. She had hardly reached this de- cision, when she became aware that some one was actually speaking to her. “Good evening, my dear.” Those were the words; and they were uttered by a small old lady who had somehow en- tered and taken her place in a high-backed chair at the other side of the hearth, “I beg your pardon; I don’t think I know you,” said Minnie. “No, but I know you. I am Miss Castle. This used to be my house, you know; but I am not able to see company now, sol stay up here. Tell me, are any of the Spuyten- dykes at the party to-night?” “Oh, yes. Oliver is here.” “The old butcher, you mean, I suppose,” Miss Castle rejoined. “He used to have a market in Maiden Lane. Or is it his son?” “Why, I don’t know what you mean!” exclaimed Minnie. “ He is not a butcher.” “Don't tell me/” retorted Miss Castle. “I know them all. Now, there are the Ootswarters, who kept a little ship- chandlery shop. And the Grosiers—you know what their namecomes from? Grocers, of course ; small corner-grocers. But, since then, they have gone into corner-lots — which is an improvement.” Minnie was surprised. She looked narrowly at her new acquaintance, to see if there were anything uncanny or unbal- anced about her. But Miss Castle appeared perfectly sane and composed. : “Let me see, continued’ the old lady, “I think the young Colts were to come to-night. Their ancestors were horse- dealers —very shrewd, but not quite honorable. The Chut- ney Currys, too; they dealt in salt-fish and other pickles, and finally built up a flourishing sauce business, Well, well, aris- tocracy is a great thing !”” “1 don’t see,” Minnie objected, “ why you should dwell on these, old forgotten circumstances, when people have out- grown them, and some of the descendants are very distin- guished and swell.” “They have a right to be so if they have ‘earned it, and if they are good,” Miss Castle admitted. “ It is pleasant to see the young folks having a good time. But they must not put on too many airs. I suppose Bellfield is down-stairs. He dresses elegantly; and that is natural, because his grand- father was a journeyman tailor and used to repair my brother's clothes. He mended them nicely.” “I can’t believe it!” Minnie declared. “ Why, Bellfield belongs to one of our own very best families, ever so rich; and they have quantities of prominent men among them. I would just like to know what you have to say of the Van Hobbenails.” “Oh, they were’[a bad set,” said Miss Castle promptly. “They smuggled and they cheated, and traded with pirates. I don’t know what else they didn’t do that was wicked. But you mustn’t be too severe with the young gen- eration, of course.” Here Minnie sprang up indignantly. “ How cam you go on so?” she demanded. “I know that Wouter is a charming fellow, and his family were all respectable, and my aunt means to have me marry him. That just shows the absurd- ity of what you have told me.” Then, struck with a sarcas- tic notion, she inquired : “ Would you like to say something against James Bernard, too?” “Bernard?” repeated the old lady. name at all.” Miss Vanvelsor laughed scornfully. ‘ Oh, then Ze must be an aristocrat indeed!” It appeared to her high time to escape from so disagreeable a /éte-d-téte, and she started to leave the room ; but, as a parting shot, she announced: “ I’m afraid you're a spiteful old maid, and I don’t believe a word you have said!” “Indeed ?” cried Miss Castle, bristling. She rose, majesti- cally. “ Very well, then. Your own great-great-grandfather Vanvelsor laid the foundation of your fortune in the rag and bottle business. And, if you don’t believe me, I will ask the whole company to step in here, that you may see them. Instantly, Minnie found her path to the door blocked by a rout of the strangest looking individuals, who came from she knew not where, and filled the room. They were dressed in “T don’t know his comicbooks.com