Ballou's Monthly Magazine, Vol. XXVII, No. 1 — page 54: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

58 Ballows Monthly Magazine. MRS. DALRYMPLE’S DIPLOMACY. BY M. T. CALDOR. CHAPTER I. “COUSIN WHART, wait a moment, please. I have just a word to say to you,” said Mrs. Dalrymple, lifting the teaspoon from her china cup, and playing with it abstractedly. The gentleman who was just unfolding his darling newspaper, still damp from the carrier, paused in the act, and looking across the table said mildly: “Well, Hortense, I am listening.” “Would it be so much of an intrusion if I ventured to ask a lady friend of mine out here ?” The tone was doubtful and hesitating, but there was a little spark of triumphant confi- dence in the eye, veiled from his view by drooping lashes of pale brown; and the thin, mobile lips were just ready to dimple into a mischievous smile. “A lady!” echoed the gentleman, in a tone of consternation. But in a moment he added, conscious of the ungallant inhospitality of his manner, “ Of course I don’t want to object to any guest of yours. If she is only a quiet, sensible woman, like yourself, and wont be setting the whole house in an uproar, and especially wont be expecting me to dance at- tendance upon her whims, why, I have nothing more to say. Only I think we have been exceedingly cosy and comfortable, so far, and I hope we shan't have any disturbing element.” “Certainly not, certainly not, Cousin Whart, I hope I know well enough what Its due to you, not to introduce any one to trouble you. ll promise you shall not be annoyed at all. I'll manage it so you shall scarcely be aware there is any one visiting here. The library shall be sacred from in- trusion, and the rear garden, and your favorite arbor. You see, somehow, I seem to feel that I ought to see something of my friend this sunimer; and to tell the truth, I am a little dull, while you are shut up with your books, and fussing over your experiments, and off on your wild gallops. And with her here I could enjoy everything, and besides, when Frank comes, she'll help entertain him, and keep him quiet. I am certain it will make your seclusion more secure, or I wouldn’t propose the thing,” replied Mrs. Dalrymple, returning the spoon to the cup, and looking vastly relieved at the result of her experiment. The gentleman had returned to his paper, and was already some ways into the editorial before the conclusion of her speech. She glanced at his pre-occupied face, and smiled again, with a look of a general whose victory is just secured; and leaving the breakfast- table at which she had presided, she skimmed away up stairs into her chamber, and hunted up her daintiest note-paper, and forthwith sat down to a pleasant pen-and-ink chat, as was evident by the vivacious expression of her face, while her white hand, with the ebony and gold trifle clasped lightly in the fingers, flew over the satiny paper, leaving its delicate lines of tracery, stamped emphatic every short distance by a dash, or an exclamation point. It was finished at last, lovingly folded, and inscribed, “ Miss Sibyl Aubrey, W- street, Philadelphia.” And when it was fairly deposited in the little mail-box in the hall, ready for the carrier, Mrs. Hortense Dalrymple gave a little sigh of relief and murmured: “Now I hope it will come out just as I wish, and I shal] congratulate myself upon originating such a charming little plot. It will be such a chance for Frank to have her all to himself in this romantic neighborhood! If he doesn’t win her, he don’t deserve to be my son. Of course he will! He is young, and by no means dull of -wit, and as fine- looking a young fellow as the country can show; and with that magnificent fortune of hers, how comfortable everything may be! I shall no longer be obliged to spend my sum- mers with Cousin Whart, in such a stupid fashion. But Sibyl Aubrey is just the girl to enjoy this country place, and I think I shall know just how to please and fascinate her. Frank’s coming shall all seem an accident, and I- shall know how to help him along, and there’s nobody to interfere. Thank Heaven, Cousin Whart is such an odd creature, and such a recluse, there’s no fear of his bringing any other gentleman to distract her attention. Yes, I am sure I may count everything safe.” And Mrs. Hortense smiled, and nodded archly to some invisible personage, and re- Conmlicld@ooks. Conn