Nobody Part 9

They had reached the street. Mr. Dillwyn accompanied the ladies a part of their way, and then took leave of them.

CHAPTER V.

IN COUNCIL.

Sauntering back to his hotel, Mr. Dillwyn's thoughts were a good deal engaged with the impressions of the last hour. It was odd, too; he had seen all varieties and descriptions of feminine fascination, or he thought he had; some of them in very high places, and with all the advent.i.tious charms which wealth and place and breeding can add to those of nature's giving. Yet here was something new. A novelty as fresh as one of the daisies Mrs. Wishart had spoken of. He had seen daisies too before, he thought; and was not particularly fond of that style. No; this was something other than a daisy.

Sauntering along and not heeding his surroundings, he was suddenly hailed by a joyful voice, and an arm was thrust within his own.

"Philip! where did you come from? and when did you come?"

"Only the other day--from Egypt--was coming to see you, but have been bothered with custom-house business. How do you all do, Tom?"

"What are you bringing over? curiosities? or precious things?"

"Might be both. How do you do, old boy?"

"Very much put out, just at present, by a notion of my mother's; she will go to Florida to escape March winds."

"Florida! Well, Florida is a good place, when March is stalking abroad like this. What are you put out for? I don't comprehend."

"Yes, but you see, the month will be half over before she gets ready to be off; and what's the use? April will be here directly; she might just as well wait here for April."

"You cannot pick oranges off the trees here in April. You forget that."

"Don't want to pick 'em anywhere. But come along, and see them at home.

They'll be awfully glad to see you."

It was not far, and talking of nothings the two strolled that way.

There was much rejoicing over Philip's return, and much curiosity expressed as to where he had been and what he had been doing for a long time past. Finally, Mrs. Caruthers proposed that he should go on to Florida with them.

"Yes, do!" cried Tom. "You go, and I'll stay."

"My dear Tom!" said his mother, "I could not possibly do without you."

"Take Julia. I'll look after the house, and Dillwyn will look after your baggage."

"And who will look after you, you silly boy?" said his sister. "You're the worst charge of all."

"What is the matter?" Philip asked now.

"Women's notions," said Tom. "Women are always full of notions! They can spy game at hawk's distance; only they make a mistake sometimes, which the hawk don't, I reckon; and think they see something when there is nothing."

"We know what we see this time," said his sister. "Philip, he's dreadfully caught."

"Not the first time?" said Dillwyn humorously. "No danger, is there?"

"There is real danger," said Miss Julia. "He is caught with an impossible country girl."

"Caught _by_ her? Fie, Tom! aren't you wiser?"

"That's not fair!" cried Tom hotly. "She catches n.o.body, nor tries it, in the way you mean. I am not caught, either; that's more; but you shouldn't speak in that way."

"Who is the lady? It is very plain Tom isn't caught. But where is she?"

"She is a little country girl come to see the world for the first time.

Of course she makes great eyes; and the eyes are pretty; and Tom couldn't stand it." Miss Julia spoke laughing, yet serious.

"I should not think a little country girl would be dangerous to Tom."

"No, would you? It's vexatious, to have one's confidence in one's brother so shaken."

"What's the matter with her?" broke out Tom here. "I am not caught, as you call it, neither by her nor with her; but if you want to discuss her, I say, what's the matter with her?"

"Nothing, Tom!" said his mother soothingly; "there is nothing whatever the matter with her; and I have no doubt she is a nice girl. But she has no education."

"Hang education!" said Tom. "Anybody can pick that up. She can talk, I can tell you, better than anybody of all those you had round your table the other day. She's an uncommon good talker."

"You are, you mean," said his sister; "and she listens and makes big eyes. Of course nothing can be more delightful. But, Tom, she knows nothing at all; not so much as how to dress herself."

"Wasn't she well enough dressed the other day?"

"Somebody arranged that for her."

"Well, somebody could do it again. You girls think so much of _dressing_. It isn't the first thing about a woman, after all."

"You men think enough about it, though. What would tempt you to go out with me if I wasn't _a.s.sez bien mise?_ Or what would take any man down Broadway with his wife if she hadn't a hoop on?"

"Doesn't the lady in question wear a hoop?" inquired Philip.

"No, she don't."

"Singular want of taste!"

"Well, you don't like them; but, after all, it's the fas.h.i.+on, and one can't help oneself. And, as I said, you may not like them, but you wouldn't walk with me if I hadn't one."

"Then, to sum up--the deficiencies of this lady, as I understand, are,--education and a hoop? Is that all?"

"By no means!" cried Mrs. Caruthers. "She is n.o.body, Philip. She comes from a family in the country--very respectable people, I have no doubt, but,--well, she is n.o.body. No connections, no habit of the world. And no money. They are quite poor people."