THE JOURNEY.
Mrs. Kennedy looked charming in her traveling dress of brown, and
the happy husband likened her to a Quakeress, as he kissed her
blushing cheek and called her his "little wife." He had passed
through the ceremony remarkably well, standing very erect, making
the responses very, loud, and squeezing very becomingly the soft
white hand on whose third finger he placed the wedding ring--a very
small one, by the way. It was over now, and many of the bridal
guests were gone; the minister, too, had gone, and jogging leisurely
along upon his sorrel horse had ascertained the size of his fee,
feeling a little disappointed that it was not larger--five dollars
seemed so small, when he fully expected twenty from one of Dr.
Kennedy's reputed wealth.
Janet had seen that everything was done for the comfort of the
travelers, and then out behind the smokehouse had scolded herself
soundly for crying, when she ought to appear brave, and encourage
her young mistress. Not the slightest hint had she received that she
was not to follow them in a few, weeks, and when at parting little
Maude clung to her skirts, beseeching her to go, she comforted the
child by telling her what she would bring her in the autumn, when
she came. Half a dozen dolls, as many pounds of candy, a dancing
jack, and a mewing kitten were promised, and then the faithful
creature turned to the weeping bride, who clasped her hard old hand
convulsively, for she knew it was a long good-by. Until the carriage
disappeared from view did Mrs. Kennedy look back through blinding
tears to the spot where Janet stood, wiping her eyes with a corner
of her stiffly starched white apron, and holding up one foot to keep
her from soiling her clean blue cotton stockings, for, in accordance
with a superstition peculiar to her race, she had thrown after the
travelers a shoe, by way of insuring them good luck.
For once in his life Dr. Kennedy tried to be very kind and attentive
to his bride, who, naturally hopeful and inclined to look upon the
brighter side, dried her tears soon after entering the cars, and
began to fancy she was very happy in her new position as the wife of
Dr. Kennedy. The seat in front of them was turned back and occupied
by Maude, who busied herself a while in watching the fence and the
trees, which she said were "running so fast toward Janet and home!"
Then her dark eyes would scan curiously the faces of Dr. Kennedy and
her mother, resting upon the latter with a puzzled expression, as if
she could not exactly understand it. The doctor persisted in calling
her Matilda, and as she resolutely persisted in refusing to answer
to that name, it seemed quite improbable that they would ever talk
much together. Occasionally, it is true, he made her some advances,
by playfully offering her his hand, but she would not touch it, and
after a time, standing upon the seat and turning round, she found
more agreeable society in the company of two boys who sat directly
behind her.
They were evidently twelve or thirteen years of age, and in personal
appearance somewhat alike, save that the face of the brown-haired
boy was more open, ingenuous, and pleasing than that of his
companion, whose hair and eyes were black as night. A jolt of the
cars caused Maude to lay her chubby hand upon the shoulder of the
elder boy, who, being very fond of children, caught it within his
own, and in this way made her acquaintance. To him she was very
communicative, and in a short time he learned that "her name was
Maude Remington, that the pretty lady in brown was her mother, and
that the naughty man was not her father, and never would be, for
Janet said so."
This at once awakened an interest in the boys, and for more than an
hour they petted and played with the little girl, who, though very
gracious to both, still manifested so much preference for the
brown-haired, that the other laughingly asked her which she liked the
best.
"I like you and you," was Maude's childlike answer, as she pointed a
finger at each.
"But," persisted her questioner, "you like my cousin the best. Will
you tell me why?"
Maude hesitated a moment, then laying a hand on either side of the
speaker's face, and looking intently into his eyes, she answered,
"You don't look as if you meant for certain, and he does!"
Had Maude Remington been twenty instead of five, she could not
better have defined the difference between those two young lads, and
in after years she had sad cause for remembering words which seemed
almost prophetic. At Albany they, parted company, for though the
boys lived in Rochester they were to remain in the city through the
night, and Dr. Kennedy had decided to go on. By doing so he would
reach home near the close of the next day, beside saving a large
hotel bill, and this last was with him a very weighty reason. But he
did not say so to his wife; neither did he tell her that he had left
orders for his carriage to be in Canadaigua on the arrival of the
noon train, but he said "he was in haste to show her to his
daughter--that 'twas a maxim of his to save as much time as
possible, and that unless she were very anxious to sleep, he would
rather travel all night." So the poor, weary woman, whose head was
aching terribly, smiled faintly upon him as she said, "Go on, of
course," and nibbled at the hard seedcakes and harder crackers which
he brought her, there not being time for supper in Albany.
It was a long, tedious ride, and though a strong arm was thrown
around her, and her head was pillowed upon the bosom of her husband,
who really tried to make her as comfortable as possible, Mrs.
Kennedy could scarcely refrain from tears as she thought how
different was this bridal tour from what she had anticipated. She
had fully expected to pass by daylight through the Empire State, and
she had thought with how much delight her eye would rest upon the
grassy meadows, the fertile plains, the winding Mohawk, the drone-like
boats on the canal, the beautiful Cayuga, and the silvery water
so famed in song; but, in contrast to all this, she was shut up in a
dingy car, whose one dim lamp sent forth a sickly ray and sicklier
smell, while without all was gloomy, dark, and drear. No wonder,
then, that when toward morning Maude, who missed her soft, nice bed,
began to cry for Janet and for home, the mother too burst forth in
tears and choking sobs, which could not be controlled.
"Hush, Matty--don't," and the disturbed doctor shook her very
gently; "it will soon be daylight, and 'tis a max--" Here he
stopped, for he had no maxim suited to that occasion; and, in a most
unenviable frame of mind, he frowned at the crying Maude, and tried
to soothe his weeping wife, until at last, as the face of the latter
was covered, and the former grew more noisy and unmanageable, he
administered a fatherly rebuke in the shape of a boxed ear, which
had no other effect than the eliciting from the child the outcry,
"Let me be, old doctor, you!" if, indeed, we except the long scratch
made upon his hand by the little sharp nail of his stepdaughter.
At that moment Matty lifted up her head, but as Maude was no
tale-bearer, and the doctor hardly dared to tell her that he had thus
early taken upon himself the government of her child, she never knew
exactly what it was which made Maude's ear so red or her liege
lord's face so dark.
It was nearly noon when they arrived at Canandaigua, where the first
object which caught Mrs. Kennedy's eye was an old-fashioned
carryall, which her husband honored with the appellation of
carriage, said carriage being drawn by two farm-horses, which looked
as if oats and corn were to them luxuries unknown.
"I must have a cup of tea," said Mrs. Kennedy, as she saw the black
man, John, arranging the baggage upon the rack of the carryall, and
heard her husband bid him hurry, as there was no time to lose. "I
must have a cup of tea, my head is aching dreadfully," and her white
lips quivered, while the tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Certainly, certainly," answered the doctor, who was in unusually
good spirits, having just heard from an acquaintance whom he chanced
to meet that a lawsuit which had long been pending was decided in
his favor, and that the house and lot of a widow would probably come
into his possession. "Certainly, two cups if you like; I should have
proposed it myself, only I knew old Hannah would have dinner in
readiness for us, and 'tis a maxim of mine, that fasting provokes an
appetite."
"Hang dis nigger, if he aint a-maxin' her so quick!" muttered the
darkey, showing his teeth from ear to ear; and, coaxing Maude away
from her mother, he took her to a restaurant, where he literally
crammed her with ginger-bread, raisins, and candy, bidding her eat
all she wanted at once, for it would be a long time, maybe, ere
she'd have another chance!
"If you please, sar," he said, when at last he had returned to his
master, "if you please, Miss Nellie say how you must fotch her
somethin', and the old woman spec's a present in honor of de
'casion."
Dr. Kennedy thought of the lawsuit, and so far opened both heart and
purse as to buy for Nellie a paper of peanuts and for Hannah a
ten-cent calico apron, after which he pronounced himself in readiness to
go, and in a few moments Mrs. Kennedy was on her way to her new
home.
The road led over rocky hills, reminding her so much of Vernon and
its surrounding country that a feeling of rest stole over her, and
she fell into a quiet sleep, from which she did not awaken until the
carriage stopped suddenly and her husband whispered in her ear,
"Wake, Matty, wake; we are home at last."