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The Watkinson Evening
by
The young people assented, saying they had no doubt of passing a pleasant evening.
The billet of acceptance having been written, it was sent off immediately, entrusted to one of the errand-goers belonging to the hotel, that it might be received in advance of the next hour for the dispatch-post—and Edward Morland desired the man to get into an omnibus with the note that no time might be lost in delivering it. “It is but right”—said he to his mother—”that we should give Mrs. Watkinson an ample opportunity of making her preparations, and sending round to invite her friends.”
“How considerate you are, dear Edward”—said Caroline—”always so thoughtful of every one’s convenience. Your college friends must have idolized you.”
“No”—said Edward—”they called me a prig.” Just then a remarkably handsome carriage drove up to the private door of the hotel. From it alighted a very elegant woman, who in a few moments was ushered into the drawing-room by the head waiter, and on his designating Mrs. Morland’s family, she advanced and gracefully announced herself as Mrs. St. Leonard. This was the lady at whose house they had left the first letter of introduction. She expressed regret at not having been at home when they called; but said that on finding their letter, she had immediately come down to see them, and to engage them for the evening. “Tonight”—said Mrs. St. Leonard—”I expect as many friends as I can collect for a summer party. The occasion is the recent marriage of my niece, who with her husband has just returned from their bridal excursion, and they will be soon on their way to their residence in Baltimore. I think I can promise you an agreeable evening, as I expect some very delightful people, with whom I shall be most happy to make you acquainted.”
Edward and Caroline exchanged glances, and could not refrain from looking wistfully at their mother, on whose countenance a shade of regret was very apparent. After a short pause she replied to Mrs. St. Leonard—”I am truly sorry to say that we have just answered in the affirmative a previous invitation for this very evening.”
“I am indeed disappointed”—said Mrs. St. Leonard, who had been looking approvingly at the prepossessing appearance of the two young people. “Is there no way in which you can revoke your compliance with this unfortunate first invitation—at least, I am sure, it is unfortunate for me. What a vexatious contretemps that I should have chanced to be out when you called; thus missing the pleasure of seeing you at once, and securing that of your society for this evening? The truth is, I was disappointed in some of the preparations that had been sent home this morning, and I had to go myself and have the things rectified, and was detained away longer than I expected. May I ask to whom you are engaged this evening? Perhaps I know the lady—if so, I should be very much tempted to go and beg you from her.”
“The lady is Mrs. John Watkinson”—replied Mrs. Morland—”most probably she will invite some of her friends to meet us.”
“That of course”—answered Mrs. St. Leonard—”I am really very sorry—and I regret to say that I do not know her at all.”
“We shall have to abide by our first decision,” said Mrs. Morland. “By Mrs. Watkinson, mentioning in her note the hour of nine, it is to be presumed she intends asking some other company. I cannot possibly disappoint her. I can speak feelingly as to the annoyance (for I have known it by my own experience) when after inviting a number of my friends to meet some strangers, the strangers have sent an excuse almost at the eleventh hour. I think no inducements, however strong, could tempt me to do so myself.”
“I confess that you are perfectly right,” said Mrs. St. Leonard. “I see you must go to Mrs. Watkinson. But can you not divide the evening, by passing a part of it with her and then finishing with me?”
At this suggestion the eyes of the young people sparkled, for they had become delighted with Mrs. St. Leonard, and imagined that a party at her house must be every way charming. Also, parties were novelties to both of them.