“You might have left me out I think without hurting your reputation for truth, but never mind. Now I think as you don’t want a lot of newspaper stuff written about you, it’s time I admitted that I don’t either, and if you are quite willing we’ll get back to Boston, or rather New York, by the Fall River boat to-night. I know what these provincial cities are, and although I love New Bedford wholeheartedly, on this occasion I’ll be pleased to get away from her.”
This decision of Mr. Stewart’s sent the young folks into a silent delight. It would be so good to get away alone, and though neither of them knew what a Fall River boat was like, they were charmed at the idea of going to sea after that weary rail-road time. All the callers were put off, no one was admitted to the privacy of the trio, and so well was the secret kept that when they departed for the station to catch the Fall River train there was nobody about to pester them with inconvenient questions. And when after a short railway journey C. B. walked with Mary on his arm aboard of the palatial vessel which was ready to convey them through the picturesque Long Island Sound route to New York, she was literally exaltée, for she had not even then realized how unsophisticated he was.
“Is this a ship?” he cried in utter amazement. “Dear Lord, what wonderful things men do! I should never have imagined that such luxury was possible on the sea!” And when an obsequious negro steward showed him to his beautiful stateroom, with its perfect hotel appointment, he felt as if nothing henceforward could astonish him. But he was wrong. For after a good night’s sleep he sprang up shortly after daylight, washed, dressed, and went on deck in time to see the wonderful entrance to New York Harbour. And as he gazed, lost in astonishment, at the amazing traffic, at the masses of buildings everywhere, a mighty steamship from England came gliding majestically past, and recognizing the flag he took off his hat to it. Just as he did so he felt a light touch upon his arm, and there stood his beloved, radiant as the dawn, a sweet smile of loving greeting upon her beautiful face. No one was near, for they were on the uppermost deck of all, which at that hour is almost deserted. And so they embraced, and their souls went out to each other in a long, loving, lingering kiss.
Then, unheeding the flight of time, they stood on their lofty platform while the huge craft beneath them, deftly handled by the invisible pilot in the wheelhouse, threaded her way among the host of small craft up to her berth. As she drew nearer C. B.’s amazement deepened, for he saw the train ferries, laden with railway cars, gliding across the wide arm of the sea, noted the wonderful energy manifested on every side, and again and again turned to his lovely companion, saying in short gasps—
“What a struggle, what work to be sure. And all to get money. And when it is got, what then? Surely God never intended man to struggle so hard for money alone. It does not seem right to me.”
But she, looking up at him shyly, said in reply, “Perhaps you are right, dear one, but you know that there are animals, insects, that work far harder than man and with apparently far less reason, the ant and the bee for instance.”
But whenever she took him up like that she found that his ignorance of so many things which had always been an open book to her precluded all argument. He was in the primitive stage when everything around is new, and consequently was unable to appreciate the difficulties and limitations of civilized man.
“Come down, dear,” said she at last, “father will be seeking us”; and they descended to witness a scene on the great main-deck that arrested C. B. as if he had been paralysed. It was crammed with people, all ready to go ashore, all apparently full of eagerness to leave the vessel and recommence the struggle. And as he looked upon the swarming crowd his heart was filled with a great pity for them as he thought how intolerable such a life would be to him. But his sweetheart deftly guided him to her father’s cabin, where stood the old gentleman, his morning cigar between his lips, calmly surveying the busy scene with the eye of a master and enjoying the stir and bustle.
He greeted them with curt affection and invited them to come in and rest; “for,” said he, “you must have been on deck a long time.”
“Since daylight, I think, daddy,” replied Mary laughingly, “but it hasn’t seemed like five minutes; it’s so interesting to watch the absolute wonder of Christmas at everything. I declare I never have known anything more delightful in my life than to witness his amazement and to tell him the most commonplace things, which he receives as if they were details of miracles. Oh dear, dad, I never was so happy, never.”