And such a greeting as it was! We all remained a space apart until Mrs. Washington had kissed her son, as something too sacred for our intrusion. But when he turned to greet his neighbors, I have rarely seen such genuine emotion shown even in our whole-hearted Virginia. At the great dinner which followed, with Mrs. Washington at the head of the table and her son at the foot, we told again the story of the campaign, and the men forgot to sip their wine until the tale was ended. Yet with all this largess of goodwill, I was not wholly happy. For I had no home to go to, nor was there any waiting to welcome me, and the woman I loved seemed farther away than ever, though now she was so near.
CHAPTER XXII
A NEW DANGER AT RIVERVIEW
But Dorothy was not so near as I had thought, for next morning came a message from my aunt. It was delivered almost as soon as I was out of bed by a negro boy who had ridden over at daybreak. It was dated but two days before, and began very formally.
"Sir," it ran, "since you no doubt will wish to recuperate from the fatigues of the campaign so unfortunately ended, and as there is no place where you can do this so well as at Riverview, I hasten to assure you that the place is entirely at your service."
I paused a moment to get my breath. Her reference to the campaign was intended as a stab, of course, yet could it be she was relenting? But hope fell as I read on.
"In order that you may feel at liberty to avail yourself of this invitation," the note continued, "my daughter and I have accepted one of long standing to spend a month, or perhaps two months, at the home of a relative. James is at Williamsburg, so that you may be entirely free to occupy your leisure at Riverview as best pleases you. Do not think that you have driven us from the place, for that is not at all the case. I have long felt the need of rest, and take advantage of this opportunity, while there is little doing on the plantation, to secure it. I trust to your sense of honor to make no inquiries as to where we are stopping, nor to attempt to see my daughter, who, I believe, has already discovered that any fancy she may ever have seemed to entertain for you was more imaginary than real."
Here was a blow, straight from the shoulder, and I winced under it.
"I could never consent," the note concluded, "to any attachment of a serious nature between you, having quite other views for my daughter, which, I am sure, will be for her happiness and well-being."
I read the note through a second time before I realized what a blow it gave to all my hopes. I had had little cause to anticipate any other treatment, it is true, and yet I have often observed that men hope most who have least reason for it, and this was so in my case. As I read the note again, I could not but admire the adroitness of its author. She had placed me upon honor—without my consent, 't is true—to make no effort to see Dorothy. I stood biting my lips with anger and vexation, and then, with sudden resolve, turned back to the messenger.