Edward smiled at this running account of his new-formed acquaintance, and, bidding him “good-night,” betook himself to his chamber, intending to accompany Othro to the confectioner’s in the morning.
The next morning the sun shone bright and clear in a cloudless sky, and all were made joyous by its gladsome rays.
Edward was awakened at an early hour by the departure or preparations to depart, of the two teamsters, who, having patronized rather freely the young man in white jacket and green apron, were in a delightful mood to enjoy a joke, and were making themselves quite merry as they harnessed up their sturdy horses.
It was near nine when Othro and Edward found themselves on the way to the confectioner’s. Edward was glad on account of finding one whom he thought he could trust as a friend, and congratulated himself on his good luck.
Near the head of Cresto-street might have been seen, not many years since, over the door of a large and fashionable store, a sign-board bearing this inscription: “M. Lagrange, Confectioner and Dealer in Wines and Cordials.” We say it was “large and fashionable;” and those of our readers who recollect the place of which we speak will testify to the truth of our assertion.
Its large windows, filled with jars of confectionary and preserves, and with richly-ornamented bottles of wine, with the richest pies and cake strewed around, presented a showy and inviting appearance, and a temptation to indulge, too powerful to resist, by children of a larger growth than lisping infants and primary-school boys. Those who daily passed this store looked at the windows most wistfully; and this was not all, for, at their weekly reckonings, they found that several silver “bits” had disappeared very mysteriously during the previous seven days.
To this place our hero and his newly-formed acquaintance were now hastening. As they drew near, quite a bevy of ladies made their exit therefrom, engaged in loud conversation.
“Lor!” said one, “it is strange Lagrange advertised to sell out.”
“Why, if I was his wife,” said another, “I’d whip him into my traces, I would; an’ he shouldn’t sell out unless I was willin’,—no, he shouldn’t! Only think, Miss Fitzgabble, how handy those wines would be when one has a social soul step in!”
“O yes,” replied Miss Fitzgabble, “and those jars of lozenges! How enchantingly easy to elevate the lid upon a Sabbath morn, slip in one’s hand, and subtract a few! How I should smell of sassafras, if I was Mrs. Lagrange!”
The ladies passed on, and were soon out of hearing. Edward and his companion entered the store, where about a dozen ladies and gentlemen were seated, discussing the fashions, forging scandal, and sipping wine.
Mr. Lagrange was actively engaged when the two entered; but, seeing them, and supposing them to have called on the business for which they actually had called, he called to one of the attendants to fill his place, and entered into conversation with Messrs. Dayton and Treves, which in due time was terminated, they agreeing to call again the next day.