“You are sent with this to Major Pierpoint’s, are you?” she asked sharply and with a suspicious look at the young and guileless girl.
Miss Clayton let her eyes rest on the superscription for a few moments, and then lifted them steadily to the face of the maiden.
“You had best return directly to your shop with the amount of your mistress’ bill, lest you lose it on the way. I will dispatch my footman with this package to his lodgings.”
“I thank you, but I am ordered to take it there myself,” said Mary firmly.
“Indeed; but it would not be prudent for so young a person as you to go to a bachelor’s rooms alone. I will send it for you. Do you know Major Pierpoint?”
“No, m’m,” answered Mary with embarrassment.
“He was in the shop last evening,” answered Mary evasively.
“If you please I will take the package and go,” said Mary, half angry at this singular inquisition upon her affairs.
“Take it, trollop,” said Miss Clayton, flinging it towards her, “and tell your mistress when she has occasion to send any one to me again, she will oblige me by sending some civil person.”
Mary stared with surprise, at a loss to account for the lady’s humor, and gladly took her departure.
The heavy tocsin of the State House had struck the last stroke of twelve, as Mary timidly pulled the bell at Major Pierpoint’s handsome residence. It was opened by Cato.
“Massa says de young woman will please walk up and wait,” said Cato, as Mary offered to leave the bundle in his hand. Mary hesitated an instant, and then, trembling, (she could not tell why,) she followed him to the library. The door was opened, and Cato ushered her in with one of his best bows. Leslie pretended to be very busily engaged in a book as she entered, though he had been walking his room, or watching through the blinds with ill-concealed impatience till he heard the street door bell. He permitted Cato to leave the room, and Mary to advance half way to the table, before he gave signs of her presence. He then suddenly rose up and turned round.
“Ah, Miss Lee,” he said, with tender respect, “you have brought the gloves.”
“Yes, sir,” said Mary, without lifting her eyes.
“Sit down, if you please, while I examine the package.”
Mary quietly took a seat, and Major Pierpoint began to look over the parcels. But evidently his thoughts were not with this pursuit. His fingers trembled—he shockingly rent several pairs of gloves; put six of the handkerchiefs, one after another, into his pocket; blew his nose on a pair of silk hose, and at length sprung from the table in the most admirable confusion of mind in which a bachelor, at such a moment, could well be. After thrice striding the room to gather courage, he approached the surprised, embarrassed, yet not _unexpecting_ Mary. No woman of any sense, or feeling, or mind, could be blind at such a time. He approached and seated himself beside her.