TRAVEL AND A MYSTERY.
Mrs. Warren's pleasant boarding-house was chosen by Emily for her own
and Gertrude's winter home; and one month from the time of Mr. Graham's
return from New York his country-house was closed; he, his wife, Isabel,
and Kitty went to Havre; Mrs. Ellis went to enjoy a little rest from
care with some cousins at the eastward; and Mrs. Prime was established
as cook in Mrs. Warren's household.
Although ample arrangements were made by Mr. Graham, and sufficient
means provided for the support of both Emily and Gertrude, the latter
was anxious to be usefully employed, and, therefore, resumed a portion
of her school duties at Mr. W's. Much as Emily loved Gertrude's constant
presence, she gladly resigned her for a few hours every day, rejoiced in
the spirit which prompted her exertions, and rewarded her with praise.
In the undisturbed enjoyment of each other's society, and in their
intercourse with a small, intelligent circle of friends, they passed a
season of sweet tranquility. They read, walked, and communed, as in
times long past. Together they attended lectures, concerts, and
galleries of art.
It was a blissful and an improving winter which they passed together.
They lived not for themselves alone; the poor blessed them, the
sorrowful came to them for sympathy, and the affection which they
inspired in the family circle was boundless. Spring came and passed
while there, and they were loth to leave a place where they had been so
happy; at last a sudden failure in Emily's health occurred, and Dr.
Jeremy's peremptory command caused them to seek the country air.
Added to her anxiety about Emily, Gertrude began to feel much troubled
at Willie Sullivan's long silence; no word from him for two or three
months. Willie could not have forgotten or meant to neglect her. That
was impossible. She tried, however, not to feel disturbed about it, and
gave all her care to Emily, who now began indeed to require it.
They went to the sea-side for a few weeks; but the bracing atmosphere
brought no strength to the blind girl's feeble frame. She was obliged to
give up her daily walks; a continued weariness robbed her step of its
elasticity, and her mind became subject to depression, while her nervous
temperament became so susceptible that the utmost care was requisite to
preserve her from all excitement.
The doctor often came to see his favourite patient; but as she got worse
instead of better, he ordered her back to the city, declaring that Mrs.
Jeremy's front chamber was as cool and comfortable as the contracted
apartments of the crowded boarding-house at Nahant, and he insisted upon
both her and Gertrude to take up their quarters for a week or two; and
then, if Emily were no better, he hoped to have leisure to start off
with them in search of health. Emily thought she was doing very well
where she was, and was afraid to be troublesome to Mrs. Jeremy.
"Don't talk about trouble, Emily; you ought to know Mrs. Jeremy better
by this time. Come up to-morrow; I'll meet you at the cars! Good-bye!"
Gertrude followed him. "I see, doctor, you think Emily is not so well."
"No; how should she be? What with the sea roaring on one side, and Mrs.
Fellows's babies on the other, it's enough to wear away her strength. I
won't have it so! This isn't the place for her, and do you bring her up
to my house to-morrow."
"The babies don't usually cry as much as they have to-day," said
Gertrude, smiling; "and as to the ocean, Emily loves dearly to hear the
waves rolling in."
"Knew she did!" said the doctor. "Shan't do it; bad for her; it makes
her sad, without her knowing why. Bring her up to Boston, as I tell
you."
It was three weeks after the arrival of his visitors before the popular
physician could steal away from his patients to enjoy a few weeks'
recreation in travelling. For his own sake he would hardly have thought
of attempting so unusual a thing as a journey; and his wife, too, loved
home so much better than any other place that she was loth to start for
parts unknown; but both were willing to sacrifice their long-indulged
habits for the advantage of their young friends.
Emily was decidedly better; and viewed with pleasure the prospect of
visiting West Point, Catskill, and Saratoga, even on her own account;
and when she reflected upon the probable enjoyment the trip would afford
Gertrude, she felt herself endowed with new strength for the
undertaking. Gertrude needed change of scene and diversion of mind
almost as much as Emily. The excessive heat, and her constant attendance
in the invalid's room, had paled the roses in her cheeks, while care and
anxiety had weighed upon her mind.
New York was their first destination; but the heat and dust of the city
were almost insufferable, and during the day they passed there only Dr.
Jeremy ventured out of the hotel except once, when Mrs. Jeremy and
Gertrude went in search of dress-caps. But the doctor passed the whole
day in the revival of old acquaintances, and some of these warm-hearted
friends having presented themselves at the hotel in the evening to be
introduced to Mrs. Jeremy and her companions, their room was enlivened
until a late hour by the cheerful conversation of a group of elderly
men, who, as they recalled the scenes and incidents of their youthful
days, seemed to renew their youthful spirits. The conversation, however,
was not of a character to exclude the ladies from participating in as
well as enjoying it. Emily listened with delight to a conversation which
had such varied charms, and shared with Gertrude the admiration of the
doctor's friends, who were all excited to the warmest sympathy for her
misfortune.
Upon hearing that Dr. Jeremy's party was going up the Hudson next
morning, Dr. Gryseworth, of Philadelphia, who had been a student of our
good doctor's, expressed his pleasure to meet them on the boat, and to
introduce to Gertrude his two daughters, whom he was to accompany to
Saratoga to meet their grandmother.
Gertrude, who slept soundly until wakened by Miss Graham, started up in
astonishment on seeing her dressed and standing by the bedside--a most
unusual circumstance, as Gertrude's morning kiss was wont to be Emily's
first intimation of daylight.
"Six o'clock, Gerty, and the boat starts at seven! The doctor has
knocked at our door."
"How soundly I have slept!" exclaimed Gertrude. "I wonder if it's a
pleasant day."
"Beautiful!" replied Emily, "but very warm. The sun was shining so
brightly that I had to close the blinds on account of the heat."
Gertrude made haste, but was not quite dressed when they were summoned
to breakfast. She had trunks to lock, and therefore insisted upon the
others preceding her to the breakfast-hall. The company was small,
consisting only of two parties besides Dr. Jeremy's, and a few
gentlemen, most of them business men. Of those who still lingered at the
table when Gerty made her appearance, there was only one whom she
particularly observed during the few moments allowed for breakfast.
This was a gentleman who sat at some distance from her, idly balancing
his tea-spoon on the edge of his cup. He seemed quite at his leisure,
and previous to Gertrude's entrance had won Mrs. Jeremy's animadversions
by a slight propensity to make a more critical survey of her party than
she found agreeable.
"Do, pray," said she to the doctor, "send the waiter to ask that man to
take something himself; I can't bear to have anybody looking at me so
when I'm eating!"
"He isn't looking at you, wife; it's Emily that has taken his fancy.
Emily, my dear, there's a gentleman, over opposite, who admires you
exceedingly."
"Is there?" said Emily, smiling, "I am very much obliged to him. May I
venture to return the compliment?"
"Yes. He's a fine-looking fellow, though wife, here, doesn't seem to
like him very well."
Gertrude now joined them, and, as she made her morning salutions to the
doctor and his wife, and gaily apologised to the former for her
tardiness, the fine colour which mantled her countenance, and the deep
brilliancy of her eyes, drew affectionate admiration from the kind old
couple, and were, perhaps, the cause of the stranger's attention being
transferred from the lovely face of Emily to the more youthful and
eloquent features of Gertrude. Taking her seat, she soon perceived the
notice she was attracting. It embarrassed her, and she was glad to see,
in a few minutes, the gentleman rise and depart. As he passed out, she
had an opportunity of observing him, which she had not done while he sat
opposite to her. He was above the middle height, slender, but finely
formed, and of a dignified bearing. His features were rather sharp, but
expressive, and even handsome; his dark eyes were most penetrating,
while his compressed lips indicated strength of resolution and will.
His hair was peculiar; it was deeply tinged with grey, and in the
vicinity of his temples, white. This was strikingly in contrast with the
youthful fire of his eye, and the lightness of his step, that instead of
seeming the effect of age, it enhanced the contradictory claims of his
otherwise apparent youth and vigour.
"What a queer-looking man," exclaimed Mrs. Jeremy, when he had passed
out.
"An elegant-looking man, isn't he?" said Gertrude.
"Elegant?" rejoined Mrs. Jeremy. "What! with that grey head?"
"I think it's beautiful," said Gertrude; "but I wish he didn't look so
melancholy; it makes me quite sad to see him."
"How old should you think he was?" asked Dr. Jeremy.
"About fifty," said Mrs. Jeremy.
"About thirty," said Gertrude.
"A wide difference," remarked Emily. "Doctor, you must decide the
point."
"Impossible! I wouldn't venture to tell that man's age within ten years,
at least. Wife has got him old enough, certainly; perhaps I might see
him as low as Gertrude's mark. Age never turned _his_ hair grey!--that
is certain."