Daughters of the Revolution. Charles Carleton Coffin
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Hipsy.”
“Evidently,” said Isaac Coffin, “she is a lady who is up to snuff.”
Again the company laughed.
“You may be sure she never minces things, but speaks her mind, whether anybody likes it or not,” Robert replied.
“Are the gentlemen invited to the tea-parties?” John Coffin asked.
“Not to the afternoon parties, neither are the young ladies; the old ladies like to be by themselves while sipping their tea. Perhaps they think it would not be dignified on the part of the gentlemen to devote the afternoons to gossip,” Robert replied.
“Do not the young ladies meet?” Miss Shrimpton asked.
“Not as do our mothers, but they have their own good times, — their quilting parties. In the country every girl as soon as she can sew begins to make patchwork. When they get enough for a quilt, they invite their acquaintances to the quilting, and spend the afternoon in talking about — well, I can’t exactly say what they do talk about. Perhaps you ladies can tell better than I.”
The ladies smiled at his pleasant way of indicating what was uppermost in the thoughts of young maidens on such delightful occasions.
“Do not the gentlemen participate in some way?” Miss Quincy inquired.
“Oh yes; we join them in the evening, after they are through with the quilting, and try to make things lively. We play blindman’s-buff, hide the handkerchief, roast beef behind your back, come Philander, stage-coach, and other games, and have a jolly time. The ladies serve us with bread and butter, doughnuts, cookies, tarts, gingerbread, and tea. We guess riddles and tell ghost stories.”
“How delightful!” Miss Newville exclaimed.
“A little later than this we have huskings in the barns, seated around a heap of corn. Husking over, we eat pudding, baked beans, mince, apple, and pumpkin pie, and top off with pop-corn, apples, and cider. After supper the girls clear away the dishes; then we push the table into one corner of the kitchen, Julius Cæsar mounts it with his fiddle, and we dance jigs and quicksteps. The girl who first found a red ear while husking, and was kissed before she could throw it into the basket, is privileged to lead the dance.”
“How I should enjoy it,” said Miss Shrimpton.
“Finding the red ear?” queried Isaac Coffin.
“Oh no, — you know I didn’t mean that; but having such a jolly time with nobody saying it isn’t proper,” Miss Shrimpton replied with a blush mantling her cheek.
“Ruth, daughter,” — it was Mrs. Newville calling her to meet other guests, and Miss Newville turned regretfully away, for it was a pleasure to talk with Mr. Walden, and she hoped he would drop a word which would enable her to make sure it was he who had befriended her.
Robert, with Berinthia and the ladies whose acquaintance he had made, sauntered along the garden walks. The midsummer flowers were gone, but those of autumn were in bloom, — marigolds, asters, and sunflowers. Picturesque the scene: ladies in paduasoys, taffetas, and brocades, gentlemen in purple, russet, and crimson coats, white satin waistcoats, buff breeches, and silk stockings. Officers of the king’s regiments in scarlet with silver-starred epaulets, clergymen in suits of black, lawyers and doctors in white wigs, loitering along the paths, gathered in groups beneath the trees, young ladies serving them with syllabubs. From the vine-clad arbor the music of the orchestra floated upon the air.
Robert saw a gentleman and lady shaking hands with Mr. and Mrs. Newville.
“That is John Adams, one of the smartest lawyers in town,” said Berinthia. “That is his wife Abigail; she is the daughter of Reverend Mr. Smith, the minister of Braintree. She knows Latin and Greek, and is one of the nicest women in town. She writes beautiful letters, and knows — oh, so much! I’ll introduce you to them. I know you will be charmed with her.”
Mr. Adams courteously greeted Robert, and very gracious was the recognition by Mrs. Adams. She asked him if he had ever been in Boston before; who was the minister in Rumford; if he had many books to read. So pleasant and agreeable was her conversation, she seemed to Robert to be an old friend.
Robert was pleased to meet Doctor Warren, and received a cordial greeting.
“And are you acquainted?” Miss Newville inquired wonderingly.
“I am happy to claim Mr. Walden as my friend. I have long known his father,” the doctor replied.
Robert was pleased, also, to meet Mr. Knox, the bookseller, who was polite and affable to all, particularly to Miss Flucker.
When Berinthia and Robert were by themselves she informed him that Mr. Knox was attentive to Miss Flucker; that her parents opposed the match, Mr. Knox being a Whig and her father a Tory. Berinthia was sure that the more her father opposed the bookseller, the better Miss Lucy liked him.
Mr. John Hancock, though living but a short distance from Mr. Newville, came in his coach with driver and footmen in blue livery. He bowed politely to Mr. and Mrs. Newville, took a pinch of snuff from Mr. Newville’s gold box, and graciously greeted Miss Dorothy Quincy. Berinthia whispered to Robert that they were engaged to be married.29
“If Miss Newville and Miss Brandon will excuse us, Mr. Walden and myself will take a turn through the grounds,” said Doctor Warren, locking arms with Robert.
“I am glad to meet you once more, Mr. Walden. I want to thank you for the good work you did yesterday afternoon. I have heard of it several times; the people are chuckling over it. But the soldiers of the Twenty-Ninth Regiment are as mad as hornets and threaten retaliation. They are anxious to get hold of that fellow from the country who did it. I thought I would put you on your guard. I wish I knew who the young lady was, but no one can find out. Neither she nor her friends have made complaint to the selectmen, and of course you could not know.”
Robert thanked him. He said he did not anticipate any trouble; if attacked he would try and give a good account of himself.
They had strolled to the farthest part of the grounds. Returning, they saw Miss Newville surrounded by ladies and gentlemen; young and old alike were finding pleasure in her society. Major Evelyn, to whom Robert had been introduced, was telling how jolly it was in old England to follow the hounds in a fox hunt, leaping ditches, walls, and hedges, running Reynard to cover. Although courteously listening, her eyes glanced towards Robert and Doctor Warren.
“Pardon me, Major, but I must have a word with my good doctor who gives me pills and powders when I am sick,” she said graciously, tripping across the lawn.
“I have not served you with tea, doctor; what kind would you prefer?” she said.
“Well, let it be Old Hyson, if you please.”
“And yours, Mr. Walden: it was the Old you had before. Will you not try a cup of Young Hyson for variety?”
“If you please, Miss Newville.”
A few moments and she was with them again.
“Old Hyson for old friendship, Young, for new acquaintance,” said the doctor, as he took the cup from her hand. “You see, Mr. Walden, Miss Newville and I are old friends, and our relations at times are quite intimate. I am privileged to hold her hand, feel her pulse, and look at her tongue.”
“Do you not think, Mr. Walden, that the doctor is very rude to take a young lady’s hand when she cannot help herself?”
“Of course it is rude, but I apprehend