The Maid of Maiden Lane | Page 5

eyelids were full of holy secrets; they gave the impression
of a spiritual background which was not seen, but which could be felt.
As Cornelia entered she looked up with a smile, and said, as she
slightly raised her work, "it is the last of the dozen, Cornelia."
"You make me ashamed of my idleness, mother. Have I been a long
time away?"
"Longer than was unnecessary, I think."

"I went to Embree's for the linen thread, and he had just opened some
English gauzes and lute-strings. Mrs. Willets was choosing a piece for
a new gown, for she is to dine with the President next week, and she
was so polite as to ask my opinion about the goods. Afterwards, I
walked to Wall Street with her; and coming back I met, on Broadway,
Lieutenant Hyde--and he gave me these flowers--they came from
Prince's nursery gardens--and, then, he walked home with me. Was it
wrong? I mean was it polite--I mean the proper thing to permit? I knew
not how to prevent it."
"How often have you met Lieutenant Hyde?"
"I met him for the first time last night. He was at the Sylvesters', and I
danced three times with him."
"That was too often."
"He talked with father, and father did not oppose my dancing."
"Your father thinks of nothing, now, but the Capital question. I dare say,
after he had asked Lieutenant Hyde how he felt on that subject he never
thought of the young man again. And pray what did Lieutenant Hyde
say to you this afternoon?"
"He gave me the flowers, and he told me about a beautiful opera, of
which I have never before heard. It is called Figaro. He says, in Europe,
nothing is played, or sung, or whistled, but--Figaro; that nobody goes to
any opera but--Figaro; and that I do not know the most charming music
in the world if I do not know--Figaro. He asked permission to bring me
some of the airs to-night, and I said some civilities. I think they meant
'Yes.' Did I do wrong, mother?"
"I will say 'no,' my dear; as you have given the invitation. But to
prevent an appearance of too exclusive intimacy, write to Arenta, and
ask her and Rem to take tea with us. Balthazar will carry the note at
once."
"Mother, Arenta has bought a blue lute string. Shall I not also have a

new gown? The gauzes are very sweet and genteel, and I think Mrs. Jay
will not forget to ask me to her dance next week. Mr. Jefferson is sure
to be there, and I wish to walk a minuet with him."
"Your father does not approve of Mr. Jefferson. He has not spoken to
him since his return from France. He goes too far--IN HIS WORDS."
"But all the ladies of distinction are proud to be seen in his company;
and pray what is there against him?"
"Only his politics, Cornelia. I think New York has gone mad on that
subject. Madame Barens will not speak to her son, because he is a
Federalist; and Madame Lefferts will not speak to HER son, because he
is NOT a Federalist. Mr. Jefferson, also, is thought to favour
Philadelphia for the capital; and your father is as hot on this subject as
he was on the Constitution. My dear, you will find that society is torn
in two by politics."
"But women have nothing to do with politics."
"They have everything to do with politics. They always have had. You
are not now in a Moravian school, Cornelia; and Bethlehem is not New
York. The two places look at life from different standpoints."
"Then, as I am to live in New York, why was I sent to Bethlehem?"
"You were sent to Bethlehem to learn how to live in New York,--or in
any other place. Where have you seen Mr. Jefferson?"
"I saw him this afternoon, in Cedar Street. He wore his red coat and
breeches; and it was then I formed the audacious intention of dancing
with him. I told Mrs. Willets of it; and she said, 'Mr. Jefferson carried
the Declaration on his shoulders, and would not dare to bow;' and then
with such a queer little laugh she asked me 'if his red breeches did not
make me think of the guillotine?' I do not think Mrs. Willets likes Mr.
Jefferson very much; but, all the same, I wish to dance once with him. I
think it will be something to talk about when I am an old woman."

"My dear one, that is so far off. Go now, and write to Arenta. Young
Mr. Hyde and Figaro will doubtless bring her here."
"I hope so; for Arenta has an agreeableness that fits every occasion."
She had been folding