reward for his attempts to resent such
indignities, which he considered were offered to the family rather than
himself. There was so close a resemblance between the circumference of
the lady and her coachman as to seriously damage the pretensions of the
family, and bring down upon it no end of ridicule.

There was another serious impediment to the lady's pretentions, and that
was no less a person than Mrs. Topman. No sooner had the Chapmans set up
in Bowling Green than that lady took them into her keeping, promising
them no end of introductions to nice people. Now, Mrs. Topman was one
of those social afflictions which are found everywhere, whose touch is
like contagion, and who take strangers into their keeping only to do
them more harm than good. I have called them social afflictions for want
of a better term. Mrs. Topman was the highest example of the species.
She had been beating about on the outskirts of society without gaining
an entrance into it until she was like a faded bouquet that had lost its
freshness and perfume. In short, she was a tall, rakish looking craft,
with ingeniously painted head-gear, carrying an immense amount of sail,
and flying colors not recognized by good society in Bowling Green--at
least not on the West side.

CHAPTER XXIII.

MRS. CHAPMAN GIVES A BALL.

It was a cold, dark night in December. The wind was blowing fresh from
the northeast, the tall trees on the Battery were in commotion, and the
ships in the harbor, seen through a pale mist, were straining at their
anchors. A thin, pale mist hung over the sombre old fort on the Battery,
over the trees, over the ships, over everything within the eye's reach.
And the mist and the solemn beating sound of the sea-wail, in which the
sailor fancies he can read all his sorrows, gave a weird and mysterious
appearance to the scene. The Battery was nearly deserted that night, for
at the time we write of only two old men could be seen, leaning over the
railing on the sea-wall and watching in the direction of a ship at
anchor in the stream, and looking as if she was just in from sea.

Mrs. Chapman was to give her ball that night. The lady had for several
weeks given all her mind and energy to the preliminaries of this grand
affair. Who was to be invited, what sort of new dresses she and Mattie
would appear best in, who was to provide the supper, and what the whole
would cost, were subjects which so engaged the lady's attention that she
coul