Ballou's Monthly Magazine, Vol. XXVII, No. 1 — page 55: what you’re looking at

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Mrs. Dalrymple’s Diplomacy. a) turned to her ordinary duties, which, to be sure, were not remarkably irksome. The adroit widow always talked as if she were be- stowing some great favor upon her cousin, Wharton Berne, in flitting down to his hand- some country estate every summer, and looking aiter the servants and _ household affairs. “ Dear, careless soul!’ she would say; “whatever would become of your domestic affairs, Cousin Whart, if I didn’t take pity on you, and come every summer to set things to rizhts? You'd be ruined in a few years!” And Cousin Whart would open those dreamy gray eyes of his, and give her a grate- ful smile, and answer: “ Well, indeed, Hortense, I don’t know, in- deed; but I’m sure it’s very kind of you. You are the most comfortable woman to get along with that [ know of;” and fall back again to his reading. But Mrs. Green, the housekeeper, had quite another idea of the matter. “Humph! I should think she'd be ashamed of herself, playing the fine lady, and ordering me around so insolently, and she a getting her living every summer out of the master. I wonder he don’t see how she sponges out of us everything she can. She carries away jelly and fruit enough to last her the winter, I'll be bound. Lawful heart! I wish shed skip one summer, and let us have a little peace!” said that worthy, a dozen times in the week. And when she was made aware of the new arrangements, Mrs. Green held up her hand in holy horror. “Goodness sakes! the assurance of some folks! To think it aint enough for her, and that lazy son of hers, to get their board here for nothing, but she must invite her company here, as if the house and all in it belonged to her. O, if the master would only have a little spirit and look into things!” Nevertheless, one charming June afternoon the carriage was sent to the railroad station, while the master of the place was away in the woods on a botanical tramp, his specimen- box under his arm. Mrs. Dalrymple was a thorough diplomat. She had discoursed elo- quently that morning on a charming unknown wild-flower she had seen on a long walk the previous day, more than a mile away, and she inquired, with such a charming, flattering deference for his opinion, if Cousin Whart would tell her all about the darling stranger. The result was eminently satisfactory. Whar- ton Berne put by the project immediately un- derway, and stalked off to the woods to hunt up the flower. The house, meantime, was left to Mrs. Dalrymple’s control, for all poor Mrs. Green’s stifled indignation. And when the carriage drew up before the pretty vine-wreathed portico, Mrs. Dalrymple, all smiles and de- lights, in a cool, lilac muslin, ran down to meet her guest. A. fair, classical face, with soft, dark eyes, and scarlet lips curved into slight haughtiness, was bent out eagerly, in answer to the lacy’s salutation. “You dear girl! O Sibyl Aubrey! I was so afraid you wouldn't come.” “Not come, Mrs. Dalrymple? Why, the temptation you held out was perfectly irresist- ible! I should have come, though fire and water had conspired to prevent. Do you think I could turn away from such a refresh- ing prospect? A month—a whole month to ourselves, to romp, and enjoy everything in perfect freedom. No tiresome beaux, no troublesome gallants! O, I come to you with thorough heartiness. And this is my friend, Miss Gramont. You wrote me to bring iny maid; but I thought Cecille would be a re- minder of the old ways. So I left her with ail my party dresses, and coaxed Lucia to come instead. We mean to be genuine country girls, happy and jolly, and free from all the troublesome bonds of etiquette. Dear Nirs. Dalrymple, it was so good in you to think to give us this treat.” And while the graceful cou sprang light'y to the ground, Miss Sibyl Aubrey motioned toward the fairy-like companion with great violet eyes, and hair one golden flutter of soft, kinky curls. “JT am delighted to see you, I am sure, Miss Gramont,” said Mrs. Hortense, her face one genial smile as she extended her head toward the stranger. This was not quite honest in the lady, for in her heart she was impatiently soliloquizine: “Whatever could have put it into Sibyl’s head to do such a stupid thing as to invite this girl here. She'll be dreadfully in Frank's way.” And, still gracious smiles, she led the way into the house, and ushered them into the cool, inviting chamber. “O how lovely! how sweet and innocent!’ exclaimed Miss Aubrey, rushing to the open window which looked out into a woodland view, with a sweep of pasture-land varied into hill and dale, and a PUCOMMEIOO KS ACOma