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."