ON Christmas-eve, after dinner, as General and Mrs. Gaston, Miss Trevennon and Mr. Louis Gaston were seated around the drawing-room fire, a card of invitation was brought in by Thomas, and delivered to General Gaston. As he took it and scanned it through his glasses, a perceptible gleam of satisfaction came into his eyes, and he handed it to Mrs. Gaston, saying:
“A card for General Morton’s supper.”
“Indeed!” returned his wife, with a reflection of his gratified expression. “Really, this is very kind.”
As she took the card and looked at it, Margaret surveyed her wonderingly. Turning her eyes away from her cousin’s face, an instant later, she saw that Louis Gaston was regarding her with a sort of deprecating amusement. He was seated near to her, and so he alone her words, when she murmured, in an undertone:
“‘How strange are the customs of France’!”
She smiled as she said it, and Cousin Eugenia, who saw the smile, but missed the words she had uttered, said explainingly:
“This supper of General Morton’s is an annual affair. He has given one on New Year’s night ever since he has been in Washington. They are limited to twenty-five gentlemen, and of course these are carefully selected. It is always the most recherché stag-party of the season, and one is sure of meeting there the most distinguished and agreeable people the city will afford. He has always been so kind in asking Edward, though of course the invitations are greatly in demand, and residents cannot always expect to receive them.”
Nothing further was said about the matter just then, but it was evident that this attention from General Morton had put Mrs. Gaston in unusually high spirits, and her husband, on his part, was scarcely less elated.
A little later, when Louis and Margaret happened to be alone, the former said:
“I wish you would tell me what it was that amused you about that invitation. The system of social tactics, of which you are the , begins to interest me extremely. What was it that brought that puzzled look to your face just now?”
“Shall I really tell?” the girl asked, doubtfully.
“Pray do—. I’m so interested to know.”
“I was wondering who this General Morton could be, that a card to his supper should be deemed such an acquisition. I have discovered the fact that you Gastons are proud of your lineage, and, as I have heard it said that yours is one of the few really historical families of America, perhaps it should not be wondered at. Who then, can General Morton be, I was thinking, to be in a position to confer honor on the Gastons? I suppose he’s some one very grand, but I’m such an ignoramus that I really don’t know who the Mortons are, when they’re at home.”
“I believe Morton’s origin was very common,” said Louis. “Certainly, he has no sort of claim to aristocratic distinction. He has a high official position and is very rich and a very good-natured, sensible sort of man, but it is out of the question that he could, socially speaking, confer honor upon my brother.”
“And yet it was evident,” began Margaret—but she stopped , and Louis made no motion to help her out.
“Do you know,” he said, presently, “that, through your influence, Miss Trevennon, I have been gradually undergoing certain changes in my points of view. I am getting an insight into your social basis and system, and, stubborn Yankee as I am, I must admit that there’s something fine in it. I really think I begin to feel myself perceptibly. Until I met you, I had no idea what a difference there was between the Northern and Southern ideas of these matters.”
“But I must not be taken as a strict representative of the Southern idea—nor you, I suppose, for a strict representative of the Northern idea,” said Margaret. “At home, they think me a great . I have no special respect for pedigrees in general. That one’s should have been honest is the first thing, it seems to me, and that they should have been social should come a long way after.”
“You rather amaze me in that,” said Louis. “I thought there were no for birth and like the Southerners.”
“It is true of a large class of them,” said Margaret; “but I have seen too much of the degeneration of distinguished families in the South, to have much sympathy with that idea. In too many cases they have lacked the spirit to save them from such degeneration, and, that being the case, what does their blood go for? It ought to go for nothing, I think—worse than nothing, for if it has any at all, it should make its possessors independent and .”
“You have sometimes a little gentle at the Gaston pride—have you not?” said Louis; “and I’ve sometimes thought it odd, because I had always been told that the pride of the Southern people is .”
“It is of a different sort,” said Margaret; “for instance——”
But she checked herself, and colored.
“Oh, pray give me the example,” said Louis, earnestly. “Illustrations are such helps. I beg you will not let any over-sensibility prevent your speaking plainly. It may be that you’ve got the best of these social questions. I want to be able to judge.”
“How honest and fair you are!” said Margaret, “and how rare that spirit is! I really think I’ll tell you frankly what I was going to say. You know what an of your brother I have, and how his fine qualities command my respect, but I will not deny that his bearing in the matter of this invitation has amazed me. I think I am safe in saying that no Southern man, in your brother’s sphere of society, could possibly be found—no matter how insulated or behind the times he might be—no matter how poor or or ignorant, who could be and flattered by an invitation from General Morton or General anybody else. The notion would never their brains. But I am very bold,” she said, checking herself suddenly. “I am afraid I have said too much.”
“It would be too much for any one else to say to me certainly,” said Louis, looking at her, “and I cannot say the idea you suggest is exactly ; but I think I could hardly take offence at words of yours.”
At that moment the door-bell rang, and presently Thomas announced General Reardon.
“Generals seem to be the order of the day,” said Margaret, with a smile, as the visitor was crossing the hall. “I might be back in Bassett for the prevalence of titles.”
Miss Trevennon greeted General Reardon with great cordiality, and set herself at once to the task of entertaining him. He called only occasionally at the Gastons’ house, as he did not enjoy their society any more than they did his. He had been in the United States Army before the war, and had been extremely popular among the officers, being of a fund of and humor, which instantly in the atmosphere of the Gastons’ drawing-room, but flowed freely enough in camps and barracks. He was of a good Southern family, and a gentleman. His visits, as has been indicated, were not especially inspiring to the Gastons, but Cousin Eugenia had detected in her husband a faint tendency to slight this distant cousin of hers, and it was jus............