Part 9 (1/2)
”Why Jerry,” came in velvet tones addressed to the coachman, ”You mustn't be so formal just because I have come to New York to live.
Call me 'Miss Ella,' of course, just like you did when we lived out in Kansas,” and with these words Miss Ella Flowers, for it was she, stepped out of the carriage.
A hush fell on the crowd as they caught sight of her face--a hush of silent tribute to the clear sweet womanhood of that pure countenance.
A young man on the edge of the crowd who was on the verge of becoming a drunkard burst into tears and walked rapidly away to join the nearest church. A pr-st---te who had been plying her nefarious trade on the avenue, sank to her knees to pray for strength to go back to her aged parents on the farm. Another young man, catching sight of Ella's pure face, vowed to write home to his old mother and send her the money he had been expending in the city on drinks and dissipation.
And well might these city people be affected by the glimpse of the sweet n.o.ble virtue which shone forth so radiantly in this Kansas girl's countenance. Although born in Jersey City, Ella had moved with her parents to the west at an early age and she had grown up in the open country where a man's a man and women lead clean sweet womanly lives.
Out in the pure air of G.o.d's green places and amid kindly, simple, big hearted folks, little Ella had blossomed and thrived, the pride of the whole country, and as she had grown to womanhood there was many a masculine heart beat a little faster for her presence and many a manly blush of admiration came into the features of her admirers as she whirled gracefully with them in the innocent pleasure of a simple country dance. But on her eighteenth birthday, her parents had pa.s.sed on to the Great Beyond and the heartbroken Ella had come East to live with Mrs. Montgomery, her aunt in Jersey City. This lady, being socially prominent in New York's ”four hundred”, was of course quite ambitious that her pretty little niece from the West should also enter society.
For the last three months, therefore, Ella had been feted at all the better cla.s.s homes in New York and Jersey City, and as Mrs. van der Griff, the Fifth Avenue social leader, was in the same set as Ella's aunt, it was only natural that when making out her list of guests for the dinner in honor of General Grant she should include the beautiful niece of her friend.
As Ella stepped from the carriage, her gaze fell upon little Frank, the crippled newsboy, and her eyes quickly filled with tears, for social success had not yet caused her to forget that ”blessed are the weak”.
Taking out her purse, she gave Frank a silver dollar and a warm look of sympathy as she pa.s.sed into the house.
”Gee, there went an angel,” whispered the little cripple, and many who heard him silently echoed that thought in their hearts. Nor were they far from wrong.
But even an angel is not free from temptation, and by letting Ella go into society her aunt was exposing the girl to the whisperings of Satan--whisperings of things material rather than things spiritual. Many a girl just as pure as Ella has found her standards gradually lowered and her moral character slowly weakened by the contact with the so-called ”refined” and ”cultured” infidels one meets in fas.h.i.+onable society. Many a father and mother whose ambition has caused them to have their daughter go out in society have bitterly repented of that step as they watched the poor girl gradually succ.u.mbing to the temptation of the world. Let her who thinks it is ”smart” to be in society consider that our brothels with their red plush curtains, their hardwood floors and their luxurious appointments, are filled largely with the worn out belles and debutantes of fas.h.i.+onable society.
The next minute a bugle call sounded down the street and up drove a team of prancing grays. Two soldiers sprang down from the coachman's box and stood at rigid attention while the door of the carriage opened and out stepped General Ulysses S. Grant.
A murmur of admiration swept over the crowd at the sight of his manly inspiring features, in which the clean cut virility of a life free from dissipation was accentuated by the neatly trimmed black beard. His erect military bearing--his neat, well fitting uniform--but above all his frank open face proclaimed him a man's man--a man among men. A cheer burst from the lips of the onlookers and the brave but modest general lowered his eyes and blushed as he acknowledged their greeting.
”Men and women,” he said, in a voice which although low, one could see was accustomed to being obeyed, ”I thank you for your cheers. It makes my heart rejoice to hear them, for I know you are not cheering me personally but only as one of the many men who are fighting for the cause of liberty and freedom, and for----” the general's voice broke a little, but he mastered his emotion and went on--”for the flag we all love.”
At this he pulled from his pocket an American flag and held it up so that all could see. Cheer after cheer rent the air, and tears came to the general's eyes at this mark of devotion to the common cause.
”Wipe the d--d rebels off the face of the earth, G-d d--'em,” shouted a too enthusiastic member of the crowd who, I fear, was a little the worse for drink. In an instant General Grant had stepped up to him and fixed upon him those fearless blue eyes.
”My man,” said the general, ”It hurts me to hear you give vent to those oaths, especially in the presence of ladies. Soldiers do not curse, and I think you would do well to follow their example.”
The other lowered his head shamefacedly. ”General,” he said, ”You're right and I apologize.”
A smile lit up the general's handsome features and he extended his hand to the other.
”Shake on it,” he said simply, and as the crowd roared its approval of this speech the two men ”shook”.
Meanwhile within the van der Griff house all were agog with excitement in expectation of the arrival of the distinguished guest. Expensively dressed ladies fluttered here and there amid the elegant appointments; servants in stylish livery pa.s.sed to and fro with trays of wine and other spirituous liquors.
At the sound of the cheering outside, the haughty Mrs. Rhinelander patted her daughter Geraldine nervously, and between mother and daughter pa.s.sed a glance of understanding, for both felt that to-night, if ever, was Geraldine's opportunity to win the handsome and popular general.
The doorbell rang, and a hush fell over the chattering a.s.semblage; then came the proud announcement from the doorman--”General Ulysses S.
Grant”--and all the society belles crowded forward around the guest of honor.
It had been rumored that the general, being a soldier, was ignorant of social etiquette, but such proved to be far from the case. Indeed, he handled himself with such ease of manner that he captivated all, and for each and every young miss he had an apt phrase or a pretty compliment, greatly to their delight.
”Pleased to know you”--”Glad to shake the hand of such a pretty girl”--”What a nice little hand--I wish I might hold it all evening”--with these and kindred pleasantries the general won the way into the graces of Mrs. van der Griff's fair guests, and many a female heart fluttered in her bosom as she gazed into the clear blue eyes of the soldier, and listened to his well chosen tactful words.
”And how is the dear General this evening?”--this in the affected tone of old Mrs. Rhinelander, as she forced her way through the crowd.
”Finer than silk,” replied he, and he added, solicitously, ”I hope you have recovered from your lumbago, Mrs. Rhinelander.”