THE JOURNEY.
Rachel's intention had been to stay with Miss Stiefbach until the return
of her uncle, whom she expected during the month of October; but Marion
had urged her to go home with her, and join their family party in their
summer trip. Mrs. Berkley seconded the invitation so warmly that Rachel
had accepted with great pleasure.
Finding that Mr. Stevenson's means were not sufficient to enable him to
allow Florence to join the party, Rachel, with the utmost delicacy and
tact, had invited her to go with them,--an arrangement which proved more
than satisfactory to all.
I fear some of my readers have thought that Rachel's uncle must be a
cold, hard-hearted man to leave his orphan niece so long to the care of
strangers, and in justice to that gentleman I must give some explanation
of his seeming neglect.
Although a man of great wealth, he had devoted himself to the study of
surgery, throwing into the pursuit as much energy as if he depended on
his skill for his daily bread. Having become quite famous as a surgeon,
he had for several years given his services to a charity hospital in
Berlin; but having been away from his native land for ten years, he
notified the directors of the hospital, a month previous to his
brother's death, that at the end of a year from that time he must leave
them. He signified his intention of donating to the hospital a sum of
money, the income of which would be sufficient to pay a handsome salary
to any one whom they might find competent to take his place. When the
news of his brother's death reached him, his first impulse had been to
start at once for America, and make a home for the orphan girl so
suddenly bereft of a father's care; but the same steamer brought him
letters from his lawyer and business agent, stating that, according to a
wish expressed in the will of his deceased brother, his niece had been
placed at an excellent boarding-school, where she would remain for a
year, unless other directions were received from him; so he deferred
leaving until the time Rachel's school would close; but as she wrote him
that she was well and happy, and had made such pleasant plans for the
summer, he postponed his return still later, finding that until that
time no surgeon could be procured whom he felt capable of filling his
responsible position.
Mr. and Mrs. Berkley, Marion, Florence, and Rachel, with Fred and Mr.
Thornton, made up the travelling party. Mr. Berkley secured a
drawing-room car for their exclusive use, and in the best possible
spirits they set out for New York. The day after arriving there they
went up the Hudson to West Point, spending a week at that delightful
place, made up of enchanting scenery and still more enchanting cadets.
It would be useless to say the girls did not enjoy the latter quite as
much as the former, for what girl of eighteen ever could resist brass
buttons?
For a day or two, Mr. Thornton and Fred escorted them about town, took
them to the review, and everywhere else that there was anything worth
seeing, but never introducing one of their military acquaintances,
notwithstanding said acquaintances gave them plenty of opportunities for
doing so. But such a state of things was not likely to last long; for
the young women, although apparently unconscious of the admiring
glances with which they were favored, in their secret hearts knew
perfectly well that those spruce cadets never met them whenever they
went out, or passed in front of their hotel-windows so many times a day,
for the sole purpose of getting a bow from Fred or Mr. Thornton.
"The idea," exclaimed Marion, as the three girls were putting on their
hats for their usual walk, "of our going away from West Point without
having been introduced to a single cadet! I think it's outrageous!"
"But, Marion," said Rachel, "don't you suppose if they wanted to know us
very much, they'd find a way to get introduced?"
"How can they, when Fred and Arthur Thornton mount guard over us every
time we go out? Papa doesn't know any one but the old officers. Arthur
Thornton knows ever so many cadets, and I think it's _very_ strange he
doesn't bring them to call on us."
"I'm sure," said Florence, "Mr. Thornton is very polite and attentive
himself; I think he's very nice."
"Oh, so do I," replied Marion; "he's nice enough, but aren't we going to
have _him_ all summer? I tell you just how it is; he doesn't intend to
introduce any one, because he feels so grand taking us everywhere
himself!"
"O Marion," laughed Rachel, "I'm afraid you're growing conceited."
"No, I'm not, but what I say is true. If we didn't dress in the fashion,
and look pretty nice all the time, he'd be only too glad to get us off
his hands."
"Seems to me you're rather hard on Mr. Thornton," said Florence,
smoothing the feather in her hat. "Why is he any more to blame than
Fred?"
"Of course he is! Fred doesn't know any one, but some of the little
fellows, that Arthur Thornton hasn't introduced to him; besides, he's
just the age when it makes him feel important to have three young
females under his charge. But I tell you I'm going to put a stop to
this; I know there are plenty of young men here actually dying to be
presented to us. I think it is positively cruel to let them languish any
longer, and if there isn't more than one cadet introduced to us before
night, then my name is not Marion Berkley."
That morning the whole party went to the armory with an old officer, who
was at West Point making a visit to his son, a member of the graduating
class. When they started from the hotel, Marion took her father's arm,
and joined with him in his conversation with the officer. Before they
reached the armory Col. Stranburg was perfectly delighted with her, and
the interest she evinced for his profession, and quite devoted himself
to her during the morning.
"My dear young lady," he said as they were returning to the hotel, "I
should like to call on you and your friends this evening, and bring my
son with me."
"I should be delighted," replied Marion, who had been wondering how she
should ask him to do that very thing without appearing too eager; "for
as yet we do not any of us know a single cadet."
"What!" exclaimed the old gentleman, in unfeigned astonishment; "you
don't mean to say you've been at West Point three days, and don't know a
cadet! Why, I supposed that by this time you had a whole necklace of
brass buttons."
"I haven't," laughed Marion, "and I don't think I care for one; but I
should like to know some one here."
"Of course you would; and I don't understand it at all. Ah! now I see!"
he exclaimed, with a meaning glance at the two young men who were
walking in front with Florence and Rachel; "you have been monopolized,
but we'll alter the state of things."
Col. Stranburg was as good as his word, and called that evening,
bringing with him, not only his son, but two other cadets, who proved to
be the very young gentlemen the girls had so often noticed. The next day
the young men called again, each bringing a friend, and so it went on;
every evening their parlor was crowded, and the girls were showered with
attentions and bouquets till the end of the week, when Mr. Berkley
carried them off, declaring that their heads would be completely turned
if they remained any longer.
From West Point they went to the Catskills, spending several weeks
there. Marion, who had never travelled to any extent, was perfectly
delighted with everything she saw, but above all with the exquisite
beauty of the scenery. She would often wander away from the others, find
some unfrequented spot, and sit for hours drinking in the loveliness
about her, her whole nature expanding under its influence.
From the Catskills they went to Saratoga, giving only one day and night
to that abode of fashion; from there to Montreal; then down the St.
Lawrence to Niagara, and from there home, arriving in Boston about the
last of September.
It would be useless for me to attempt to give an account of all they saw
and did that summer; it would fill at least one small volume. Suffice it
to say, that every one enjoyed themselves to the utmost; that Rachel
could never thank Mrs. Berkley half enough for inviting her to join
their party; and Florence could never express half her gratitude to
Rachel for inviting her to go with her.
I think I conveyed to my readers the idea that Mr. Thornton was somewhat
in love with Marion the first time he saw her; and the more he saw her
the better he liked her. Every one knows how easily people get
acquainted who are thrown together as they were, and before the summer
was half over, they felt as if they had known each other for years.
Marion liked Mr. Thornton very much; in fact, once or twice she had been
guilty of indulging in certain little day-dreams, in which that young
gentleman figured quite extensively; but she had been heartily ashamed
of herself afterwards, and resolved in the future not to let her
imagination take such ridiculous flights. But she could not help
noticing, that, polite as he was to her friends, he was still more so to
her. There was a difference in the very way he spoke to her; not that he
was ever sentimental or tender; Marion would have had too much good
sense to allow anything of the kind, even if he had been inclined to be
so foolish, which I am happy to say he was not. But she remembered, that
throughout their whole journey she had never expressed a wish to go to
any particular place, or see any lovely view which the rest of the party
considered rather unattainable, but what, somehow or other, Mr. Thornton
cleared away all difficulties, and almost before she was aware of it the
wish was gratified. She would have been something more than human, if
such very chivalrous attentions had not been agreeable to her.