The Arm Chair Library No. 79: The Haunted Homestead — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

4 THE HAUNTED HOMESTEAD. | —————— fa. hearers. He was certainly a man of the most distinguished and com- manding presence that I had ever seen, and one for whom every hour’s acquaintance increased our esteem. When the new quadrille formed, with a graceful bow he extended his hand to Mathilde and led her to the head of one of the sets. He danced as well as he conversed. Why should I run into detail? Mathilde’s fancy was captivated. ‘They finished the quadrille, and for the remainder of the evening Mr. Howard’s attentions, though very devoted, were marked by too much delicacy and good taste to attract notice from any one except her te whom they were directed. The impression made upon Ma- thilde was as yet not sufficiently deep to render her reserved with me upon this subject. Consequently, when the ball was over, and we had reached our double-bedded chamber, my friend broke forth in eager exclamations. “Did you ever see such a fine-look- ing person, Agnes? and then his con- versation! how brilliant! and how va- ried! how much he must have trav- eled; and then how well he dances!” “Pshaw!” said I. “‘Oh, what a fall was there!’ ‘from the sublime to the ridiculous!’ ” “Yes, but he does dance well, and let me tell you that very few men can doso. He strikes the nice balance be- tween ‘le grand’ and ‘la frivole’ in his manner! And then his name—How- ard—‘la creme de la creme’ of aristo- cratic names. Don’t you remember Le Lion blanc of the house of How- ard ?” And so she rattled on, talking in- cessantly of the new acquaintance until we went to bed, and I went to sleep, leaving her still talking. The next merning TI noticed that Mathilde spent more than usual time and attention upen her toilette. She looked very pretty—when did she not?—in her embroidered cambric morning dress, with no ornament but her jetty ringlets flowing down each side her freshly blooming face. When we went downstairs,, there was Mr. Howard waiting in the hall to offer Mathilde his arm to the breakfast table. Afterward, at the ladies’ bowling alley, who but Mr. Howard stood at Mathilde’s elbow to hand the balls? Who took her in to dinner? Who made a horse-block of his knee and a stepping-stone of the palm of his hand to lift Mathilde into her saddle? Whe attended her in her afternoon ride? In her evening walk? In the duet with the - piano accompaniment at night? Howard—still Howard! Until after several weeks of this as- sociation, at last papa opened his eyes and inquired first of himself.and next of his host. “Who is this Mr. Howard who js paying such very particular attention to my daughter?” “Mr. Howard, sir; Mr. Howard is a | very talented young mechanic of Bos- ton,” answered the proprietor. “A what?” questioned the aston- ished old gentleman. “A very accomplished young ma- chinist and mathematical instrument maker, sir, who has realized quite a handsome fortune by his patented im- provement in—” “The foul fiend!” exclaimed the old aristocratic, throwing up his hands in consternation, as he trotted off. His daughter talking, dancing, rid- ing, flirting, with a mechanic! Oh! horror, horror, horror! The result of this was that after Mr. Legare’s hecome somewhat calmed he called for his bill, settled it, took four places in the morning coach, ordered his perturbed feelings had ~ (Ele) Comichoo me