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Excerpt from Miss. Livingston's Companion: A Love Story of Old New York
I could never have believed that the Sight of my father could give me so little pleasure. I tried to think, while I was shaking hands with him, in an embarrassed and half-hearted way, I fear, what excuse I could make for running off from him immedi ately; for the thought of disappointing Peggy who, I had no doubt, was ardently and impatiently expecting my arrival in Stratford, did not occur to me for a moment. But I soon made up my mind that the only honest way was, as the American philosopher says, also the best policy: I must make a clean breast of it to my father, for he was much too shrewd a man to be deceived by any halting excuses, even if I had been willing to make the attempt. On the whole it would be rather a relief to have it over, for the confession was bound to come some time, and the sooner it was made the sooner I could hope to claim Peggy - my father's consent being a necessary preliminary. Therefore, while mentally anathematizing old Hardwick, to whom I was sure I was indebted for this visit, I plunged boldly in.
I am very glad to see you, sir, I said, inwardly quavering but outwardly bold, though I could have wished I might have known of your coming in time to put off an important engage ment in Stratford which compels my leaving on the noon coach.
An engagement in Stratford exclaimed my father, in real or pretended astonishment. Pray, what business takes you to Stratford, my boy?
I have promised, Sir, to spend Sunday there with Miss Wol verton, I answered steadily enough, though feeling the red ¿ood rushing to my temples.
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