A Romance of the Republic | Page 9

introduction to your home was a favor you rarely bestowed."
"I never conferred it on any young man but yourself," answered Mr.
Royal, "and you owed it partly to my memory of your honest father,
and partly to the expression of your face, which so much resembles
his." The young man smiled and bowed, and his friend continued:
"When I invited you, I was not aware Mr. Fitzgerald was in the city. I
am but slightly acquainted with him, but I conjecture him to be what is
called a high-blood. His manners, though elegant, seem to me flippant
and audacious. He introduced himself into my domestic sanctum; and,
as I partook of his father's hospitality years ago, I find it difficult to
eject him. He came here a few months since, to transact some business
connected with the settlement of his father's estate, and, unfortunately,
he heard Rosabella singing as he rode past my house. He made
inquiries concerning the occupants; and, from what I have heard, I
conjecture that he has learned more of my private history than I wished
to have him know. He called without asking my permission, and told
my girls that his father was my friend, and that he had consequently
taken the liberty to call with some new music, which he was very
desirous of hearing them sing. When I was informed of this, on my
return home, I was exceedingly annoyed; and I have ever since been
thinking of closing business as soon as possible, and taking my
daughters to France. He called twice again during his stay in the city,
but my daughters made it a point to see him only when I was at home.
Now he has come again, to increase the difficulties of my position by
his unwelcome assiduities."
"Unwelcome to _you_" rejoined Alfred; "but, handsome and
fascinating as he is, they are not likely to be unwelcome to your
daughters. Your purpose of conveying them to France is a wise one."
"Would I had done it sooner!" exclaimed Mr. Royal. "How weak I have
been in allowing circumstances to drift me along!" He walked up and
down the room with agitated steps; then, pausing before Alfred, he laid
his hand affectionately on his shoulder, as he said, with solemn
earnestness, "My young friend, I am glad your father did not accept my
proposal to receive you into partnership. Let me advise you to live in

New England. The institutions around us have an effect on character
which it is difficult to escape entirely. Bad customs often lead
well-meaning men into wrong paths."
"That was my father's reason for being unwilling I should reside in
New Orleans," replied Alfred. "He said it was impossible to exaggerate
the importance of social institutions. He often used to speak of having
met a number of Turkish women when he was in the environs of
Constantinople. They were wrapped up like bales of cloth, with two
small openings for their eyes, mounted on camels, and escorted by the
overseer of the harem. The animal sound of their chatter and giggling,
as they passed him, affected him painfully; for it forced upon him the
idea what different beings those women would have been if they had
been brought up amid the free churches and free schools of New
England. He always expounded history to me in the light of that
conviction; and he mourned that temporary difficulties should prevent
lawgivers from checking the growth of evils that must have a blighting
influence on the souls of many generations. He considered slavery a
cumulative poison in the veins of this Republic, and predicted that it
would some day act all at once with deadly power."
"Your father was a wise man," replied Mr. Royal, "and I agree with
him. But it would be unsafe to announce it here; for slavery is a
tabooed subject, except to talk in favor of it."
"I am well aware of that," rejoined Alfred. "And now I must bid you
good morning. You know my mother is an invalid, and I may find
letters at the post-office that will render immediate return necessary.
But I will see you again; and hereafter our acquaintance may perhaps
be renewed in France."
"That is a delightful hope," rejoined the merchant, cordially returning
the friendly pressure of his hand. As he looked after the young man, he
thought how pleasant it would be to have such a son; and he sighed
deeply over the vision of a union that might have been, under other
circumstances, between his family and that of his old friend. Alfred, as
he walked away, was conscious of that latent, unspoken wish. Again
the query began to revolve through his mind whether the impediments

were really insurmountable. There floated before him a