Thankful Blossom | Page 8

the Baron
Pomposo, likewise."
The slightest trace of a smile, and the swiftest of reproachful glances,
lit up the dark face of the baron as he bowed low in the introduction.
Thankful dropped the courtesy of the period,--i. e., a duck, with
semicircular sweep of the right foot forward. But the right foot was so
pretty, and the grace of the little figure so perfect, that the baron raised
his eyes from the foot to the face in serious admiration. In the one rapid
feminine glance she had given him, she had seen that he was handsome;
in the second, which she could not help from his protracted silence, she
saw that his beauty centred in his girlish, half fawn-like dark eyes.
"The baron," explained Mr. Blossom, rubbing his hands together as if
through mere friction he was trying to impart a warmth to the reception

which his hard face discountenanced,--"the baron visits us under
discouragement. He comes from far countries. It is the custom of
gentlefolk of--of foreign extraction to wander through strange lands,
commenting upon the habits and doings of the peoples. He will find in
Jersey," continued Mr. Blossom, apparently appealing to Thankful, yet
really evading her contemptuous glance, "a hard-working yeomanry,
ever ready to welcome the stranger, and account to him, penny for
penny, for all his necessary expenditure; for which purpose, in these
troublous times, he will provide for himself gold or other moneys not
affected by these local disturbances."
"He will find, good friend Blossom," said the baron in a rapid, voluble
way, utterly at variance with the soft, quiet gravity of his eyes, "Beauty,
Grace, Accom-plishment, and--eh--Santa Maria, what shall I say?" He
turned appealingly to the count.
"Virtue," nodded the count.
"Truly, Birtoo! all in the fair lady of thees countries. Ah, believe me,
honest friend Blossom, there is mooch more in thees than in thoss!"
So much of this speech was addressed to Mistress Thankful, that she
had to show at least one dimple in reply, albeit her brows were slightly
knit, and she had turned upon the speaker her honest, questioning eyes.
"And then the General Washington has been kind enough to offer his
protection," added the count.
"Any fool--any one," supplemented Thankful hastily, with a slight
blush--"may have the general's pass, ay, and his good word. But what
of Mistress Prudence Bookstaver?--she that has a sweetheart in
Knyphausen's brigade, ay,--I warrant a Hessian, but of gentle blood, as
Mistress Prudence has often told me,--and, look you, all her letters
stopped by the general, ay, I warrant, read by my Lady Washington too,
as if 'twere HER fault that her lad was in arms against Congress. Riddle
me that, now!"
"'Tis but prudence, lass," said Blossom, frowning on the girl. "'Tis that

she might disclose some movement of the army, tending to defeat the
enemy."
"And why should she not try to save her lad from capture or ambuscade
such as befell the Hessian commissary with the provisions that you--"
Mr. Blossom, in an ostensible fatherly embrace, managed to pinch
Mistress Thankful sharply. "Hush, lass," he said with simulated
playfulness; "your tongue clacks like the Whippany mill.--My daughter
has small concern--'tis the manner of womenfolk--in politics," he
explained to his guests. "These dangersome days have given her sore
affliction by way of parting comrades of her childhood, and others
whom she has much affected. It has in some sort soured her."
Mr. Blossom would have recalled this speech as soon as it escaped him,
lest it should lead to a revelation from the truthful Mistress Thankful of
her relations with the Continental captain. But to his astonishment, and,
I may add, to my own, she showed nothing of that disposition she had
exhibited a few moments before. On the contrary, she blushed slightly,
and said nothing.
And then the conversation changed,--upon the weather, the hard winter,
the prospects of the Cause, a criticism upon the commander- in-chief's
management of affairs, the attitude of Congress, etc., between Mr.
Blossom and the count; characterized, I hardly need say, by that
positiveness of opinion that distinguishes the unprofessional. In another
part of the room, it so chanced that Mistress Thankful and the baron
were talking about themselves; the assembly balls; who was the
prettiest woman in Morristown; and whether Gen. Washington's
attentions to Mistress Pyne were only perfunctory gallantry, or what;
and if Lady Washington's hair was really gray; and if that young
aide-de-camp, Major Van Zandt were really in love with Lady or
whether his attentions were only the zeal of a subaltern,--in the midst of
which a sudden gust of wind shook the house; and Mr. Blossom, going
to the front door, came back with the announcement that it was
snowing heavily.
And indeed, within that past hour, to their astonished eyes the