Change of position often produces an apparent change of character; sometimes the effect is injurious, sometimes it is advantageous. But we trust that the reader, on renewing his acquaintance with Elinor Wyllys, will find her, while flattered by the world as an heiress, essentially the same in character and manner, as she was when overlooked and neglected on account of an unusually plain face. If a shade of difference is perceptible, it is only the natural result of four or five years of additional experience, and she has merely exchanged the first retiring modesty of early youth, for a greater portion of self-possession.
In the first months of her new reputation as an heiress, Elinor had been astonished at the boldness of some attacks upon her; then, as there was much that was ridiculous connected with these proceedings, she had been diverted; but, at length, when she found them rapidly increasing, she became seriously annoyed.
"What a miserable puppet these adventurers must think me--it is cruelly mortifying to see how confident of success some of them appear!" she exclaimed to her aunt.
"I am very sorry, my child, that you should be annoyed in this way--but it seems you must make up your mind to these impertinences--it is only what every woman who has property must expect."
"It is really intolerable! But I am determined at least that they shall not fill my head with suspicions--and I never can endure to be perpetually on my guard against these sort of people. It will not do to think of them; that is the only way to keep one's temper. If I know myself, there never can be any danger to me from men of that kind, even the most agreeable."
"Take care," said Miss Agnes, smiling, and shaking her head.
"Well, I know at least there is no danger at present; but as we all have moments of weakness, I shall therefore very humbly beg that if you ever see me in the least danger, you will give me warning, dear Aunt; a very sharp warning, if you please."
"In such a case I should certainly warn you, my dear. It strikes me that several of your most disagreeable admirers--"
"How call you call them ADMIRERS, Aunt Agnes?"
"Well, several of your pursuers, then, are beginning to discover that you are not a young lady easily persuaded into believing herself an angel, and capable of fancying them the most chivalrous and disinterested of men."
This was quite true; there was a quiet dignity, with an occasional touch of decision in Elinor's manner, that had already convinced several gentlemen that she had more firmness of character than suited their views; and they had accordingly withdrawn from the field.
"Suppose, Elinor, that I begin by giving you a warning, this morning?" continued Miss Agnes, smiling.
"You are not serious, surely, Aunt?" replied Elinor, turning from some music she was unpacking, to look at Miss Wyllys.
"Yes, indeed; I am serious, so far as believing that you are at this moment exposed to the manoeuvres of a gentleman whom you do not seem in the least to suspect, and who is decidedly agreeable."
"Whom can you mean?" said Elinor, running over in her head the names of several persons whom she had seen lately. "You surely do not suspect--No; I am sure you have too good an opinion of him."
"I am very far from having a particularly good opinion of the person I refer to," said Miss Agnes; "I think him at least, nothing better than a fortune-hunter; and although it is very possible to do many worse things than marrying for money, yet I hope you will never become the wife of a man whose principles are not above suspicion in every way."
"I am disposed just at present, I can assure you, dear Aunt, to have a particularly poor opinion of a mere fortune-hunter."
"Yes; you do not seem to feel very amiably towards the class, just now," said Miss Agnes, smiling.
"But who is the individual who stands so low in your opinion?"
"It is your opinion, and not mine, which is the important one," replied Miss Agnes.
"Ah, I see you are joking, Aunt; you half frightened me at first.
As far as having no fears for myself, I am really in an alarming state."
"So it would seem. But have you really no suspicions of one of our visiters of last evening?"
Elinor looked uneasy.
"Is it possible," she said, lowering her voice a little, "that you believe Mr. Ellsworth to be a common fortune-hunter? I thought you had a very different opinion of him."
"You are right, my child," said Miss Agnes, apparently pleased by this allusion to their friend; "I have, indeed, a high opinion of Mr. Ellsworth; but he was not our only visiter last evening,"
"Is it Mr. Stryker? I have half-suspected some such thing myself, lately; I cannot take credit for so much innocence as you gave me. But it is not worth while to trouble oneself about Mr. Stryker; he is certainly old enough, and worldly-wise enough to take care of himself. If he actually has any such views, his time will be sadly thrown away. But it is much more probable that he is really in love with Mrs. Creighton; and it would be very ridiculous in me, to imagine that he is even pretending to care for me, when he is attached to some one else."
