Satanstoe; Or, the Littlepage Manuscripts. A Tale of the ColonyCooper, James Fenimore
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Satanstoe; Or, the Littlepage Manuscripts. A Tale of the Colony
Cooper, James Fenimore
Antirent War, N.Y., 1839-1846 -- Fiction
Let all this be as it may, well stared at was I, as I mingled among the
idlers on Trinity Church Walk, on the occasion named. As for myself, my
own eyes were bent anxiously on the face of every pretty, delicate young
creature that passed, in the hope of seeing Anneke. I both wished and
dreaded to meet her; for, to own the truth, my mind was dwelling on her
beauty, her conversation, her sentiments, her grace, her gentleness, and
withal her spirit, a good deal more than half the time. I had some qualms
on the subject of Dirck, I will confess; but Dirck was so young, that his
feelings could not be much interested, after all; and then Anneke was a
second cousin, and that was clearly too near to marry. My grandfather had
always put his foot down firmly against any connection between relations
that were nearer than _third_ cousins; and I now saw how proper were his
reasons. If they were even farther removed, so much the better, he said;
and so much the better it was.
If the reader should ask me why I _dreaded_ to meet Anne Mordaunt, under
such circumstances, I might be at a loss to give him a very intelligible
answer. I feared even to see the sweet face I sought; and oh! how soft,
serene, and angel-like it was, at that budding age of seventeen!--but,
though I almost feared to see it, when at last I saw her I had so anxiously
sought approaching me, arm and arm with Mary Walface, having Bulstrode next
herself, and Harris next her friend, my eyes were instantly averted, as
if they had unexpectedly lighted on something disagreeable. I should have
passed without even the compliment of a bow, had not my friends been more
at their ease, and more accustomed to the free ways of town life than I
happened to be myself.
“How's this, Cornelius, _Coeur de Lion_!” exclaimed Bulstrode, stopping,
thus causing the whole party to stop with him, or to appear to wish to
avoid me; “will you not recognise us, though it is not an hour since you
and I parted? I hope you found the tickets; and when you have answered
'yes,' I hope you will turn and do me the honour to bow to these ladies.”
I apologized, I am afraid I blushed; for I detected Anneke looking at me,
as I thought, with some little concern, as if she pitied my awkward country
embarrassment. As for Bulstrode, I did not understand him at that time;
it exceeding my observation to be certain whether he considered me of
sufficient importance or not, to feel any concern on my account, in
his very obvious suit with Anneke. Nevertheless, as he treated me with
cordiality and respect, while he dealt with me so frankly, there was not
room to take offence. Of course, I turned and walked back with the party,
after had properly saluted the ladies and Mr. Harris.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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