THE close of the next day did not bring Mr. Markland, but only a
hurried letter, saying that important business would probably keep
him in New York a day or two longer. A postscript to the letter read
thus:
"Mr. Elbridge will send you a deed of some warehouse property that I
have sold. Sign and return it by the bearer."
If Mr. Markland had only said where a letter would reach him in New
York, his wife would have lost no time in writing fully on the
subject of Mr. Lyon's conduct toward Fanny. But, as there was great
uncertainty about this, she felt that she could only await his
return. And now she blamed herself deeply for having kept her word
to Fanny. It was one of those cases, she saw, in which more evil was
likely to flow from keeping a blind, almost extorted promise, than
from breaking it.
"I ought to have seen my duty clearer," she said, in
self-condemnation. "What blindness has possessed me!" And so she
fretted herself, and admitted into her once calm, trusting spirit, a
flood of self-reproaches and disquietude.
Fanny, now that the so anxiously dreaded period had gone by, and
there was hope that her father would learn all from Mr. Lyon before
he returned home, relapsed into a more passive state of mind. She
had suffered much beyond her natural powers of endurance, in the
last few days. A kind of reaction now followed, and she experienced
a feeling of indifference as to results and consequences, that was a
necessary relief to the over-strained condition of mind which had
for some time existed.
On the day following, another letter was received from Mr. Markland.
"You must not expect me until the last of this week," he said.
"Business matters of great importance will keep me here until that
time. I have a letter from Mr. Lyon which I do not much like. It
seems that he was at Woodbine Lodge, and saw Fanny, while I was away
in New York. I have talked with a Mr. Fenwick here, a gentleman who
knows all about him and his business, and he assures me that the
reasons which Mr. Lyon gave for returning as he did from the South
are valid. What troubles me most is that Fanny should have concealed
it from both you and her father. We will talk this matter over fully
on my return. If I had known it earlier, it might have led to an
entire change of plans for the future. But it is too late now.
"I wrote you yesterday that I wished you to sign a deed which Mr.
Elbridge would send out. He will send two more, which I would also
like you to sign. I am making some investments here of great
prospective value."
Mrs. Markland read this letter over and over again, and sat and
thought about its contents until her mind grew so bewildered that it
seemed as if reason were about to depart. If it was suggested that
she ought not to sign the deeds that were to be presented for her
signature, the suggestion was not for a single moment entertained;
but rather flung aside with something of indignation.
A day or two after Mr. Willet called with the message from Mr.
Markland, he went over again to Woodbine Lodge. It was late in the
afternoon, and Fanny was sitting in the portico that looked from the
western front of the dwelling, with her thoughts so far away from
the actual things around her that she did not notice the approach of
any one, until Mr. Willet, whom she had never met, was only a few
yards distant; then she looked up, and as her eyes rested upon him,
she started to her feet and struck her hands together, uttering an
involuntary exclamation of surprise. The name of Mr. Lyon was half
uttered, when she saw her mistake, and made a strong effort to
compose her suddenly disturbed manner.
"Mrs. Markland is at home, I presume," said the visitor, in a
respectful manner, as he paused a few paces distant from Fanny, and
observed, with some surprise, the agitation his appearance had
occasioned.
"She is. Will you walk in, sir?" The voice of Fanny trembled, though
she strove hard to speak calmly and with apparent self-possession.
"My name is Mr. Willet."
"Oh! our new neighbour." And Fanny forced a smile, while she
extended her hand, as she added:
"Walk in, sir. My mother will be gratified to see you."
"Has your father returned from New York?" inquired Mr. Willet, as he
stood looking down upon the face of Miss Markland, with a feeling of
admiration for its beauty and innocence.
"Not yet. Mother does not look for him until the last of this week."
"He did not expect to be gone over a single day, when he left?"
"No, sir. But business has detained him. Will you not walk in, Mr.
Willet?" The earnestness with which he was looking into her face was
disconcerting Fanny. So she stepped toward the door, and led the way
into the house.
"Mr. Willet," said Fanny, introducing her visitor, as they entered
the sitting-room.
Mrs. Markland extended her hand and gave their new neighbour a
cordial reception. Aunt Grace bowed formally, and fixed her keen
eyes upon him with searching glances. While the former was thinking
how best to entertain their visitor, the latter was scrutinizing his
every look, tone, word, and movement. At first, the impression made
upon her was not altogether favourable; but gradually, as she noted
every particular of his conversation, as well as the various changes
of his voice and countenance, her feelings toward him underwent a
change; and when he at length addressed a few words to her, she
replied, with unusual blandness of manner.
"How are your mother and sisters?" inquired Mrs. Markland, soon
after Mr. Willet came in. "I have not yet called over to see them,
but shall do so to-morrow."
"They are well, and will be exceedingly gratified to receive a visit
from you," replied Mr. Willet.
"How are they pleased with the country?"
"That question they would find it difficult yet to answer. There is
much pleasant novelty, and much real enjoyment of nature's varied
beauties. A sense of freedom and a quietude of spirit, born of the
stillness that, to people just from the noisy town, seems brooding
over all things. Some of the wants, created by our too artificial
mode of living in cities, are occasionally felt; but, on the whole,
we are gainers, so far, by our experiment."
"Your sisters, I am sure, must enjoy the beauty with which you are
surrounded. There is not a lovelier place than the one you have
selected in the whole neighbourhood."
"Always excepting Woodbine Lodge," returned the visitor, with a
courteous bow. "Yes," he added, "Sweetbrier is a charming spot, and
its beauty grows upon you daily. My sister Flora, just about your
own age," and Mr. Willet turned toward Fanny, "is particularly
desirous to make your acquaintance. You must call over with your
mother. I am sure you will like each other. Flora, if a brother may
venture to herald a sister's praise, is a dear, good girl. She has
heard a friend speak of you, and bears already, toward you, a
feeling of warmer tone than mere friendship."
Mr. Willet fixed his eyes so earnestly on the countenance of Fanny,
that she partly averted her face to conceal the warm flush that came
to her cheeks.
"I shall be happy to make her acquaintance," she replied. "Our
circle of friends cannot be so large here as in the city; but we may
find compensation in closer attachments."
"I will say to my mother and sisters, that they may expect to see
you to-morrow," And Mr. Willet looked from face to face.
"Yes; we will ride over to-morrow," said Mrs. Markland.
"And you, also, Miss Markland." The courteous manner in which this
was said quite won the heart of Aunt Grace, and she replied that she
would give herself that pleasure.
Mr. Willet sat for an hour, during which time he conversed in the
most agreeable and intelligent manner; and, on retiring, left behind
him a very favourable impression.
"I like that man," said Aunt Grace, with an emphasis that caused
Mrs. Markland to look toward her and smile.
"That's a little remarkable. You are not very apt to like men at
first sight."
"I like him, for he's a true man and a gentleman," returned Aunt
Grace. "And true men, I think, are scarce articles."
"Ever hasty in your conclusions, whether favourable or
unfavourable," said Mrs. Markland.
"And rarely in error. You may add that," replied the sister-in-law,
confidently. "When Mr. Lyon darkened our doors,"--Fanny was passing
from the room, and Aunt Grace spoke in a guarded voice--"I said he
would leave a shadow behind him, and so he has. Was my judgment
hasty, so far as he was concerned? I think you will hardly say so.
But, my word for it, the presence of Mr. Willet will ever bring a
gleam of sunshine. I am glad he has come into our neighbourhood. If
his mother and sisters are like him, they are a company of choice
spirits."