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CHAPTER II.

George Alverton was the son of a nobleman. Start not, republican reader, for we mean not a stiff-starched branch of English nobility, but one of America’s noblemen,–and hers are nature’s! He was a hard-working mechanic; one of God’s noblest works,–an honest man! Americans know not, as yet, the titled honors of the Old World; and none, save a few, whose birth-place nature must have mistook, would introduce into a republican country the passwords of a monarchical one.

“An invite for you,” said the laughing Josephine, as George entered at dusk. “And ten to one it’s from that black-eyed Kate, who is bewitching all the young men within a twenty-mile circuit with her loving glances-eh? A match, ten to one!”

“Always gay,” said George, as he turned half aside to avoid the mischievous look of his sister; “but, by the way, Jos, to be serious, an invite did you say? How do you know that?”

“O, by the way ’tis folded; we girls have a way of knowing a love-letter from bills of exchange, and an invitation from bills of lading. Just look at it; see how pretty ’tis enveloped, how handsomely directed,–George Alverton, Esq., Present. It’s no use, George; you needn’t look so serious. You are a captured one, and when a bird’s in a net he may as well lie still as flutter!”

Josephine handed the note to her brother, slyly winking as she did so, as much as to say, “The marriage-bells are ringing, love.”

George, observing the superscription, was convinced that it was from James Clifton, and remarked,

“Don’t be too hasty; it is from James; the direction must be wrong; it was doubtless intended for you. Look out, Jos; you may be the captured one, after all!”

Josephine was not to be thus thrown from her ground; so, turning to her brother with a laugh, she said,

“For me! Well, if so ‘t is so; but I judge from what I see. Notwithstanding your insinuation that James writes to no one but myself, I’ll venture a bright gold dollar that this is for yourself, even though it be from James. Open the budget, and prove the truth of what I say.”

George untied the white ribbon that bound it, and, opening the envelope, found an invitation to a gentleman’s party to be held that evening on board the “Vincennes.” Josephine laughed merrily over what she deemed her brother’s defeat, and George as heartily over what he deemed his victory. He was advised to go; not, however, without an accompanying hint of its being a dry affair, as ladies were to be excluded. Josephine was puzzled to know the reason of their exclusiveness, and what festivity was to be engaged in of which they could not partake.

“I scarcely know what to do,” said George, “as wines will be circulated, and I shall be asked, a dozen times or more, to drink of them.”

“Go, by all means,” said his sister; “stand your own ground, be firm, be resolute, refuse if asked to partake; but do so in a manner that, while it shows a determination to resist temptation, will not offend, but rather induce him you respect to think whether it will not he best for him also to refuse.”

“I will. I am aware of the situation in which James is placed. He has a generous, a noble heart, that needs but to know the right to do it. I will go; and if by example, persuasion or otherwise, I can prevail upon him to sign the pledge, I will do so, and thank God for it. I will speak to him kindly, and in reason. Others will drink, if he does not; others will fall, if he escapes; and such examples are the most convincing arguments that can be used to prove that an unpledged man, in these days of temptation, is unsafe, and unmindful of his best and dearest interests.”

CHAPTER III.

Notwithstanding the short interval between the reception of the cards and the hour of festivity, the time appointed saw a goodly number assembled in the well-furnished, richly-decorated cabins of the ship.