A NEW ACQUAINTANCE.
To travellers in the United States, a trip from Boston into New York
state is an everyday affair, scarce worth calling a journey; but to Dr.
Jeremy it was a momentous event, calling the good physician out of a
routine of daily professional visits, which, for twenty years, had not
been interrupted by a week's absence from home, and plunging him at once
into that whirl of hurry, tumult, and excitement, which exists on all
our great routes, especially in the summer season.
The doctor was by nature and habit a social being; never shrinking from
intercourse with his fellow-men, but seeking and enjoying their
companionship. He knew how to adapt himself to the taste of young and
old, rich and poor, and was well acquainted with city life in all its
forms. In the art of travelling, however, he was totally unversed.
Thankful were the party when they were safe on the steamboat; and were
congratulating themselves and each other, when the doctor called from
the other end of the saloon--"Come, come, wife--Gertrude, Emily! what
are you staying down in this confined place for? you'll lose the best
view;" and, coming toward them, he took Gertrude's arm, and would have
hurried her away, leaving Mrs. Jeremy and Emily to follow; but Gertrude
would not trust Emily to ascend the cabin-stairs under any guardianship
but her own, and Mrs. Jeremy immediately engaged the doctor in an
animated discussion as to the advisability of his adopting a straw hat,
which the thoughtful wife had brought from home. By the time the
question was settled, and Emily, at Gertrude's persuasion, had been
induced to change her thin mantilla for a light travelling-cloak, the
boat had proceeded some distance, and when our party gained the head of
the stairs, and looked about them for seats on deck, not a single vacant
bench was to be seen. There was a large number of passengers, nearly all
of whom were collected at the stern of the boat. Dr. Jeremy went in
search of chairs.
"Don't let us stay here," whispered Mrs. Jeremy to Gertrude and Emily.
"Let's go right back before the doctor comes! There are beautiful great
rocking-chairs down in the cabin, without a soul to sit in them, and I'm
sure we ain't wanted here to make up a company. I hate to stand with all
these people staring at us, and crowing to think they've got such nice
places; don't you, Emily?" Mrs. Jeremy just then forgot that Emily could
not see. But Gertrude never forgot it; and, as she stood with her arm
lightly pressed around her friend's waist, to prevent the motion of the
boat from throwing her off her balance, they attracted attention; the
one so bright, erect, and strong with youth and health, that she seemed
a fit protector for the other, who, in her sweet and gentle
helplessness, leaned upon her so trustingly.
Here Mrs. Jeremy was interrupted by the salutation of Dr. Gryseworth,
who insisted upon giving up his seat to Mrs. Jeremy; and another
gentleman, till now unnoticed by our party, rose, and bowing politely,
placed his own chair for Emily, and walked quickly away. It was the
stranger whom they had seen at breakfast. Gertrude recognised his keen,
dark eye, and his singular hair; and, as she thanked him, and placed
Emily in the seat, she coloured under his earnest glance. But Dr.
Gryseworth soon claimed her attention for the introduction to his
daughters, and all thoughts of the retreating stranger were banished for
the present.
The Misses Gryseworth were intelligent-looking girls; the eldest, lately
returned from Europe, where she had been travelling with her father, was
considered a very elegant and superior person, and Gertrude was charmed
with the lady-like cordiality with which they both made her
acquaintance, and still more with the sympathising attentions which they
paid to Emily. By the time that Dr. Jeremy returned with a chair he
found Gertrude and Dr. Gryseworth comfortably accommodated, and was
thus enabled to sink at once into his seat, and into that state of easy
unconcern which became his pleasant, genial temperament.
Long before the boat reached West Point, where the Jeremys were to land,
an excellent understanding subsisted between Gertrude and the Misses
Gryseworth. They had been about an hour in each other's society, when
Netta Gryseworth, glancing towards another part of the boat, said in an
undertone, "Ellen, do invite Mr. Phillips to come back and be introduced
to Miss Flint!--see how lonesome the poor man looks."
Gertrude followed the direction of Netta's eye, and saw the stranger of
the morning at some distance, slowly pacing up and down, with a serious
and distracted air.
"He has not been near us for an hour," said Netta.
"I hope we have not frightened your friend away," said Gertrude.
"Oh, no, indeed!" replied Ellen. "Although Mr. Phillips is but a recent
acquaintance, we have found him so independent, and sometimes so
whimsical, that I am never astonished at being suddenly forsaken by him.
There are some people, you know, for whom it is always sufficient excuse
to say, _It is their way_. I wish he would condescend to join us again,
however; I should like to introduce him to you, Miss Flint."
"You wouldn't like him," said Netta.
"Now, that is not fair, Netta!" said her sister, "to prejudice Miss
Flint against my friend. You mustn't let her influence you," said she to
Gertrude. "She hasn't known him half as long as I have; and I do not
dislike him. My straightforward sister never likes odd people, and I
must confess that Mr. Phillips is eccentric; but he interests me all the
more on that account, and I am sure he and you would have many ideas and
sentiments in common."
"How can you say so, Ellen?" said Netta. "I think they are totally
different."
"You must consider Netta's remark complimentary, Miss Flint," said
Ellen; "it would not be quite so much so if it had come from me."
"But you wished me to become acquainted with your oddity," said
Gertrude. "I suspect you act on the principle that one's misfortunes
should be shared by one's friends."
Netta laughed. "Not exactly," said she; "it was compassion _for him_
that moved me. I can't help pitying him when he looks so home-sick, and
I thought your society would brighten him up and do him good."
"Ah, Netta!" said her sister, "he has excited your sympathy, I see. A
few days more, and I shouldn't be surprised if you went beyond me in
your admiration of him. If so, take care, you transparent creature, not
to betray your inconsistency." Then she said to Gertrude, "Netta met Mr.
Phillips only yesterday and has not seemed very favourably impressed.
Father and I were passengers in the same steamer in which he came from
Liverpool a few weeks ago. He had an ill turn in the early part of the
voyage, and it was in a professional way that father first made his
acquaintance. I was surprised at seeing him on board to-day, for he
mentioned no such intention yesterday."
Gertrude suspected that the young lady might herself be the cause of his
journey; but she did not say so, and the conversation taking another
turn, Mr. Phillips was not again adverted to, though Gertrude observed,
just before the boat stopped at West Point, that Dr. Jeremy and Dr.
Gryseworth had joined him, and that the trio were engaged in a colloquy
which seemed to interest them all. At West Point, Gertrude parted from
her new friends, who expressed a wish to meet in Saratoga.
Our travellers passed one night only at West Point. The weather
continued hot, and Dr. Jeremy, perceiving that Emily drooped under the
oppressive atmosphere, was desirous to reach the summit of Catskill
Mountain before the coming Sabbath.
One solitary moonlight evening sufficed to give Gertrude some idea of
the beauties of the place. She could not observe it in detail, only as a
whole; but, thus presented in all the dreamy loveliness of a summer's
night, it left on her mind a vague sentiment of wonder and delight at
the surpassing sweetness of what seemed rather a glimpse of Paradise
than an actual show of earth, so harmonious was the scene, so still, so
peaceful. "Emily, darling," said she, as they stood together in a rustic
arbour, commanding the most striking prospect both of the river and the
shore, "it looks like you; you ought to live here and be the priestess
of such a temple;" and, locking her hand in that of Emily, she poured
into her ear the holy and elevated sentiments to which the time and the
place gave birth.
At an early hour in the morning they steamed up the river. But West
Point was hardly passed before Gertrude's watchful eye detected in
Emily's countenance signs of weariness and debility. Sacrificing,
without hesitation, the pleasure she was herself deriving from beautiful
scenes through which the boat was passing, she proposed that they should
seek the cabin, where Miss Graham might rest in greater stillness. But
Emily would not listen to the proposal; would not think of depriving
Gertrude of the pleasure she knew she must be experiencing.
"The prospect is all lost upon me now, Emily," said Gertrude. "I see
only your tired face. Do go and lie down, if it be only to please me;
you hardly slept at all last night."
"Are you talking of going below?" exclaimed Mrs. Jeremy. "I, for one,
shall be thankful, too; it's as comfortable again, and we can see all we
want to from the cabin windows; can't we, Emily?"
"Should you really prefer it?" inquired Emily.
"Indeed, I should!" said Mrs. Jeremy, with such emphasis that her
sincerity could not be doubted.
"Then, if you will promise to stay here, Gertrude," said Emily, "I will
go with Mrs. Jeremy."
Gertrude assented to the plan; but insisted upon first accompanying
them, to find a vacant berth for Emily, and see her under circumstances
which would promise repose. Emily was too weak to endure the noise on
deck, and after she had laid down in the quiet saloon, Gertrude stood
smoothing back her hair, and watching her pale countenance, until she
was accused of violating the agreement, and was at last sent off by the
good-natured doctor's lady, who declared herself perfectly well able to
take care of Emily.
"You'd better make haste back," she said, "before you lose your seat;
and, Gerty, don't let the doctor come near us; he'll be teasing us to go
back again, and we shall not." Mrs. Jeremy untied her bonnet-strings,
put her feet up in the opposite chair, clapped her hands at Gertrude,
and bade her begone.
Gertrude ran off laughing, and a smile was on her face when she reached
the staircase. As she came up with her quick and light step, a tall
figure moved aside to let her pass. It was Mr. Phillips. He bowed, and
Gertrude, returning the salutation, passed on to the place she had left,
wondering how he came to be again their travelling companion. He could
not have been on board previously to her going below with Emily.
Gertrude had sat about five minutes, when a shadow passed before her,
and looking up, she betrayed a little confusion at again encountering a
pair of eyes, whose magnetic gaze bewildered her. She was turning away,
when the stranger spoke. "Good morning, young lady! our paths still lie
in the same direction, I see. Will you honour me by making use of my
guide-book?"
As he spoke he offered her a little book containing a map of the river,
and the shores on either side. Gertrude took it, and thanked him. As she
unfolded the map he stationed himself a few steps distant, and leaned
over the railing, in an apparently absent state of mind; nor did he
speak to her again for some minutes. Then, suddenly turning towards her,
he said, "You like this very much?"
"Very much," said Gertrude.
"You have never seen anything so beautiful before in your life." He did
not seem to question her; he spoke as if he knew.
"It is an old story to you, I suppose," said Gertrude.
"What makes you think so?" asked he, smiling.
Gertrude was disconcerted by his look, and still more by his smile; it
changed his whole face so--it made him look so handsome, and yet so
melancholy. She blushed and could not reply; he saved her the trouble.
"That is hardly a fair question, is it? You probably think you have as
much reason for your opinion as I had for mine. You are wrong, however;
I never was here before; but I am too old a traveller to carry my
enthusiasm in my eyes--as you do," added he, after a moment's pause,
during which he looked her full in the face. Then seeming to perceive
the embarrassment which his scrutiny of her features caused, he turned
away, and a shadow passed over his fine countenance, lending it for a
moment an expression of mingled bitterness and pathos, which served to
disarm Gertrude's confusion.
Presently, taking a vacant chair next hers, he directed his attention
to a beautiful country residence on their right, spoke of its former
owner, whom he had met in a foreign land, and related some interesting
anecdotes concerning a journey which they had taken together. This
introduced other topics, chiefly connected with wanderings in countries
almost unknown; and so rich and varied was the stranger's conversation,
so graphic were his descriptions, so exuberant his imagination, and so
powerful his command of words and his gift of expressing his thoughts,
that his listener sat entranced with delight.
When Dr. Jeremy came in search of his young charge, conversation between
her and the stranger had assumed so much ease and freedom that the
doctor opened his eyes in astonishment, shrugged his shoulders, and
exclaimed, "This is pretty well, I declare!"
Gertrude did not see the doctor approach, but looked up at the sound of
his voice. Conscious of the surprise it must be to find her talking so
familiarly with a stranger, she coloured slightly; but observing that
her companion only smiled, she felt rather amused than embarrassed; and
she began to feel confidence in her fellow-traveller, who rose, shook
hands with Dr. Jeremy, to whom he had, the previous day, been
introduced, and said, with perfect composure, "Will you have the
kindness, sir, to present me to this lady? We have already had some
conversation together, but do not yet know by what name we may address
each other."
Dr. Jeremy having performed the ceremony of introduction, Mr. Phillips
bowed gracefully, and looked at Gertrude in such a benignant, fatherly
way, that she hesitated not to take his offered hand. He detained hers a
moment while he said, "Do not be afraid of me when we meet again;" and
then walked away, and paced slowly up and down the deck until passengers
for Catskill were summoned to dinner, when he, Dr. Jeremy, and Gertrude
went below. The doctor tried to rally Gertrude about her grey-headed
beau, declaring that he was yet young and handsome, and that she could
have his hair dyed any colour she pleased. But he could not succeed in
annoying her in that way, for her interest in him, which she could not
deny, was quite independent of his personal appearance.
The bustle, however, of dinner, and going on shore at Catskill, banished
from the doctor's head all thought of everything except the safety of
himself, his ladies, and their baggage.
Emily, whose nervous system was somewhat disordered, clung tremblingly
to Gertrude; and Gertrude found herself, she knew not how, leaning on
the arm of Mr. Phillips, to whose silent exertions they were both
indebted for their safety in disembarking. Mrs. Jeremy was counting up
the trunks, while her husband was loudly denouncing the steamboat, its
conductors, and the whole hurrying, skurrying Yankee nation.
Two stage-coaches were waiting at the wharf to take passengers up the
mountain, and before Dr. Jeremy had turned his back upon the river,
Emily and Gertrude were placed in one of them by Mr. Phillips, who,
without speaking, took this office upon himself, and then went to inform
the doctor of their whereabouts, and the doctor and his wife soon joined
them.