CHAPTER XIII.—NATURE BEGINS REPRISALS.
OF course, we watched the newspapers for an announcement of the Touraine's arrival. A fast steamer, ordinarily accomplishing the passage within seven days, she ought to have reached Havre on the 22nd. She was not reported, however, until Monday, the 24th, being then two days overdue.
It was on Friday, the 4th of January, that we at last got a letter. The envelope was superscribed not in Miriam's band, but in Fairchild's; and when we tore it open we saw that the letter itself had been written by the groom, and not by the bride. This struck us as rather odd, and made us a little uneasy. We hastened to read:
“Hôtel de la Grande Bretagne,
“Havre, December 25.
“Dear Dr. Benary,
“Christmas day, and such news as I have to give you! I should put off writing until we reach Paris, in the hope that when we are there the face of things may have altered for the better; only I know, if you don't receive a letter sooner than you would in that case, you will be alarmed.
“What I have to tell you is so horrible in itself, it must shock you dreadfully whatever way I put it. I can't hope to make it any less painful for you by mincing it, or beating about the bush. Yet it seems brutal to state the hideous fact downright. Miriam has become blind, totally blind.
“Whether incurably so or not, we do not yet know. Of course we hope for the best, but we can be sure of nothing till we reach Paris, where we shall consult the best oculists to be found. Meantime, you may imagine our state of mind.