Elinor Wyllys, vol 1 | Page 6

ascribed to the character of the age in which she lived and gave
tea-parties.
{"on hospitable thought intent" = John Milton (English poet,
1608-1674), "Paradise Lost", Book V, line 332}
For several years after they removed permanently to Wyllys-Roof, the
family, strictly speaking, consisted of Mr. Wyllys, his unmarried
daughter, and the usual domestics, only. They were seldom alone,
however; they had generally some friend or relative with them, and in
summer the house was often filled to overflowing, during the whole
season, with parties of friends, or the different branches of a large
family connection; for the Wyllyses had their full share of that free
spirit of hospitality which seems characteristic of all classes of
Americans. After a time, however, another member was received into
the family. This was the orphan daughter of Mr. Wyllys's eldest son, an
engaging little girl, to whom her grandfather and aunt were called upon
to fill the place of the father and mother she had lost. The little orphan
was too young, at the time, to be aware, either of the great affliction
which had befallen her, or of her happy lot in being committed to such
kind guardians, in merely exchanging one home for another.
The arrival of the little Elinor at Wyllys-Roof was the only important
event in the family for some ten or twelve years; the Wyllyses were not
much given to change, and during that period things about them
remained much as they have just been described. We defer presenting
the family more especially to the reader's notice until our young friend

Elinor had reached her seventeenth birth-day, an event which was duly
celebrated. There was to be a little party on the occasion, Miss Agnes
having invited some half-dozen families of the neighbourhood to pass
the evening at Wyllys-Roof.
The weather was very warm, as usual at the last of August; and as the
expected guests were late in making their appearance, Mr. Wyllys had
undertaken in the mean time to beat his daughter at a game of chess.
Elinor, mounted on a footstool, was intent on arranging a sprig of
clematis to the best advantage, in the beautiful dark hair of her cousin
Jane Graham, who was standing for that purpose before a mirror. A
good-looking youth, whom we introduce without farther ceremony as
Harry Hazlehurst, was watching the chess-players with some interest.
There were also two ladies sitting on a sofa, and as both happened at
the time to be inmates of Wyllys-Roof, we may as well mention that
the elderly gentlewoman in a cap was Mrs. Stanley, the widow of a
connection from whom young Hazlehurst had inherited a large property.
Her neighbour, a very pretty woman, neither young nor old, was Mrs.
George Wyllys, their host's daughter-in-law, and, as her
mourning-dress bespoke her, also a widow. This lady was now on a
visit to Wyllys-Roof with her young children, whom, as she frequently
observed, she wished to be as much as possible under the influence of
their father's family.
Mr. Wyllys's game was interrupted for a moment, just as he was about
to make a very good move; a servant came to let him know that a
drunken man had been found under a fence near the house. The fellow,
according to Thomas's story, could not be roused enough to give a
straight account of himself, nor could he be made to move.
"Is it any one you know, Thomas?" asked Mr. Wyllys.
"No, sir, it's no one from hereabouts. I shouldn't wonder if he was a
sailor, by the looks of his trowsers and jacket. I guess it is some loafer
on his way to Longbridge."
What could be done with him? was the question. The ladies did not
seem to like the idea of having a drunken man, whom no one knew,

brought into the house at night.
"I dare say it is the same person I heard asking the way to Wyllys-Roof
this morning, when we stopped at the turnpike-gate," observed Mrs.
Stanley. "He looked at the time as if he had been drinking."
Elinor suggested that possibly it might be some old sailor, who fancied
he had a claim upon Mr. Wyllys's kindness--Mr. George Wyllys having
died a commander in the navy.
Harry volunteered to go out and take a look at him, and the party in the
drawing-room awaited the result of this reconnoitring {sic}. At the end
of five minutes Hazlehurst returned with his report.
"As far as I can judge by the help of moonlight and a lantern, it is no
very prepossessing personage. He swore at me roundly for disturbing
him, and I take it the fellow is really a sailor. I asked him what he
wanted at Wyllys-Roof, but we could not make anything out of him.