It was sunset when we arrived in Rosville, and found Mr. Morgeson
waiting for us with his carriage at the station. From its open sides
I looked out on a tranquil, agreeable landscape; there was nothing
saline in the atmosphere. The western breeze, which blew in our faces,
had an earthy scent, with fluctuating streams of odors from trees and
flowers. As we passed through the town, Cousin Charles pointed to the
Academy, which stood at the head of a green. Pretty houses stood round
it, and streets branched from it in all directions. Flower gardens,
shrubbery, and trees were scattered everywhere. Rosville was larger
and handsomer than Surrey.
"That is my house, on the right," he said.
We looked down the shady street through which we were going, and saw a
modern cottage, with a piazza, and peaked roof, and on the side toward
us a large yard, and stables.
We drove into the yard, and a woman came out on the piazza to receive
us. It was Mrs. Morgeson, or "My wife, Cousin Alice," as Mr. Morgeson
introduced her. Giving us a cordial welcome, she led us into a parlor
where tea was waiting. A servant came in for our bonnets and baskets.
Cousin Alice begged us to take tea at once. We were hardly seated when
we heard the cry of a young child; she left the table hastily, to come
back in a moment with an apology, which she made to Cousin Charles
rather than to us. I had never seen a table so well arranged, so
fastidiously neat; it glittered with glass and French china. Cousin
Charles sent away a glass and a plate, frowning at the girl who
waited; there must have been a speck or a flaw in them. The viands
were as pretty as the dishes, the lamb chops were fragile; the bread
was delicious, but cut in transparent slices, and the butter pat was
nearly stamped through with its bouquet of flowers. This was all the
feast except sponge cake, which felt like muslin in the fingers; I
could have squeezed the whole of it into my mouth. Still hungry, I
observed that Cousin Charles and Alice had finished; and though she
shook her spoon in the cup, feigning to continue, and he snipped
crumbs in his plate, I felt constrained to end my repast. He rose
then, and pushing back folding-doors, we entered a large room, leaving
Alice at the table. Windows extending to the floor opening on the
piazza, but notwithstanding the stream of light over the carpet, I
thought it somber, and out of keeping with the cottage exterior. The
walls were covered with dark red velvet paper, the furniture was
dark, the mantel and table tops were black marble, and the vases
and candelabra were bronze. He directed mother's attention to the
portraits of his children, explaining them, while I went to a table
between the windows to examine the green and white sprays of
some delicate flower I had never before seen. Its fragrance was
intoxicating. I lifted the heavy vase which contained it; it was taken
from me gently by Charles, and replaced.
"It will hardly bear touching," he said. "By to-morrow these little
white bells will be dead."
I looked up at him. "What a contrast!" I said.
"Where?"
"Here, in this room, and in you."
"And between you and me?"
His face was serene, dark, and delicate, but to look at it made me
shiver. Mother came toward us, pleading fatigue as an excuse for
retiring, and Cousin Charles called Cousin Alice, who went with us to
our room. In the morning, she said, we should see her three children.
She never left them, she was so afraid of their being ill, also
telling mother that she would do all in her power to make my stay in
Rosville pleasant and profitable. As a mother, she could appreciate
her anxiety and sadness in leaving me. Mother thanked her warmly, and
was sure that I should be happy; but I had an inward misgiving that I
should not have enough to eat.
"I hear Edward," said Alice. "Good-night."
Presently a girl, the same who had taken our bonnets, came in with
a pitcher of warm water and a plate of soda biscuit. She directed us
where to find the apparel she had nicely smoothed and folded; took off
the handsome counterpane, and the pillows trimmed with lace, putting
others of a plainer make in their places; shook down the window
curtains; asked us if we would have anything more, and quietly
disappeared. I offered mother the warm water, and appropriated the
biscuits. There were six. I ate every one, undressing meanwhile, and
surveying the apartment.
"Cassy, Mrs. Morgeson is an excellent housekeeper."
"Yes," I said huskily, for the dry biscuit choked me.
"What would Temperance and Hepsey say to this?"
"I think they would grumble, and admire. Look at this," showing her
the tassels of the inner window curtains done up in little bags. "And
the glass is pinned up with nice yellow paper; and here is a damask
napkin fastened to the wall behind the washstand. And everything
stands on a mat. I wonder if this is to be my room?"
"It is probably the chamber for visitors. Why, these are beautiful
pillow-cases, too," she exclaimed, as she put her head on the pillow.
"Come to bed; don't read."
I had taken up a red morocco-bound book, which was lying alone on the
bureau. It was Byron, and turning over the leaves till I came to
Don Juan, I read it through, and began Childe Harold, but the candle
expired. I struck out my hands through the palpable darkness, to find
the bed without disturbing mother, whose soul was calmly threading
the labyrinth of sleep. I finished Childe Harold early in the morning,
though, and went down to breakfast, longing to be a wreck!
The three children were in the breakfast-room, which was not the one
we had taken tea in, but a small apartment, with a door opening
into the garden. They were beautifully dressed, and their mother was
tending and watching them. The oldest was eight years, the youngest
three months. Cousin Alice gave us descriptions of their tastes and
habits, dwelling with emphasis on those of the baby. I drew from her
conversation the opinion that she had a tendency to the rearing of
children. I was glad when Cousin Charles came in, looking at his
watch. "Send off the babies, Alice, and ring the bell for breakfast."
She sent out the two youngest, put little Edward in his chair, and
breakfast began.
"Mrs. Morgeson," said Charles, "the horses will be ready to take you
round Rosville. We will call on Dr. Price, for you to see the kind
of master Cassandra will have. I have already spoken to him about
receiving a new pupil."
"Oh, I am homesick at the idea of school and a master," I said.
Mother tried in vain to look hard-hearted, and to persuade that it was
good for me, but she lost her appetite, with the thought of losing me,
which the mention of Dr. Price brought home. The breakfast was as well
adapted to a delicate taste as the preceding supper. The ham was most
savory, but cut in such thin slices that it curled; and the biscuits
were as white and feathery as snowflakes. I think also that the boiled
eggs were smaller than any I had seen. Cousin Alice gave unremitting
attention to Edward, who ate as little as the rest.
"Mother," I said afterward, "I am afraid I am an animal. Did you
notice how little the Morgesons ate?"
"I noticed how elegant their table appointments were, and I shall buy
new china in Boston to-morrow. I wish Hepsey would not load our table
as she does."
"Hepsey is a good woman, mother; do give my love to her. Now that
I think of it, she was always making up some nice dish; tell her I
remember it, will you?"
When Cousin Charles put us into the carriage, and hoisted little
Edward on the front seat, mother noticed that two men held the horses,
and that they were not the same he had driven the night before. She
said she was afraid to go, they looked ungovernable; but he reassured
her, and one of the men averring that Mr. Morgeson could drive
anything, she repressed her fears, and we drove out of the yard
behind a pair of horses that stood on their hind legs as often as that
position was compatible with the necessity they were under of getting
on, for they evidently understood that they were guided by a firm
hand. Edward was delighted with their behavior, and for the first time
I saw his father smile on him.
"These are fine brutes," he said, not taking his eyes from them; "but
they are not equal to my mare, Nell. Alice is afraid of her; but I
hope that you, Cassandra, will ride with me sometimes when I drive
her."
"Oh!" exclaimed mother, grasping my arm.
"You would, would you?" he said, taking out the whip, as the horses
recoiled from a man who lay by the roadside, leaping so high that the
harness seemed rattling from their backs. He struck them, and
said, "Go on now, go on, devils." There was no further trouble. He
encouraged mother not to be afraid, looking keenly at me. I looked
back at him.
"How much worse is the mare, cousin Charles?"
"You shall see."
After driving round the town we stopped at the Academy. Morning
prayers were over, and the scholars, some sixty boys and girls, were
coming downstairs from the hall, to go into the rooms, each side of a
great door. Dr. Price was behind them. He stopped when he saw us,
an introduction took place, and he inquired for Dr. Snell, as an old
college friend. Locke Morgeson sounded familiarly, he said; a member
of his mother's family named Somers had married a gentleman of that
name. He remembered it from an old ivory miniature which his mother
had shown him, telling him it was the likeness of her cousin Rachel's
husband. I replied we knew that grandfather had married a Rachel
Somers. Cousin Charles was surprised and a little vexed that the
doctor had never told him, when he must have known that he had been
anxiously looking up the Morgeson pedigree; but the doctor declared
he had not thought of it before, and that only the name of Locke had
recalled it to his mind. He then proposed our going to Miss Prior, the
lady who had charge of the girls' department, and we followed him to
her school-room.
I was at once interested and impressed by the appearance of my teacher
that was to be. She was a dignified, kind-looking woman, who asked me
a few questions in such a pleasant, direct manner that I frankly told
her I was eighteen years old, very ignorant, and averse from learning;
but I did not speak loud enough for anybody beside herself to hear.
"Now," said mother, when we came away, "think how much greater your
advantages are than mine have ever been. How miserable was my youth!
It is too late for me to make any attempt at cultivation. I have
no wish that way. Yet now I feel sometimes as if I were leaving the
confines of my old life to go I know not whither, to do I know not
what."
But her countenance fell when she heard that Dr. Price had been a
Unitarian minister, and that there was no Congregational church in
Rosville.
She went to Boston that Friday afternoon, anxious to get safely home
with Veronica. We parted with many a kiss and shake of the hand and
last words. I cried when I went up to my room, for I found a present
there--a beautiful workbox, and in it was a small Bible with my name
and hers written on the fly-leaf in large print-like, but tremulous
letters. I composed my feelings by putting it away carefully and
unpacking my trunk.