Broken in spirits, bowed with grief, Mrs. Thayer stepped off the Carpathia at New York with the other few hundreds of survivors last night. With her was her young son, John B. Thayer, Jr., who stayed on board the vessel until she sank to share his father’s fate, but who proved more fortunate than the railroad magnate, and was saved. She was heavily veiled and was supported by the son, who seemed, with his experience, to have aged twice his sixteen years.
Awaiting her arrival was a special train, sent by officers of the Pennsylvania Railroad for her arrival. One of the cars was that in which she and Mr. Thayer frequently had taken trips together. It was in this car that she rode to Philadelphia, the last time she ever will enter it.
Every arrangement had been made for the care and comfort of Mrs. Thayer. Immediately upon her arrival at the pier where the rescue ship, Carpathia, docked, relatives and representatives of the railroad were ready to receive her.
A motor car had been held in readiness and when she disembarked from the vessel, leaning upon the arm of her young son, she was led silently to it. They were the first of the Philadelphia survivors to arrive at the Pennsylvania station. It was exactly 10 o’clock when the car in which she and her son had ridden, pulled up outside the great building erected when her husband was one of the directing heads of the road. With her was Dr. Neidermeier, the station physician, who had been sent to take care of her during the short time she stayed in New York. Tenderly he lifted Mrs. Thayer to the pavement and then led her inside and across the central floor toward the train.
Garments had been brought from her home for Mrs. Thayer, to take the place of those which she had worn when, scantily clad, she bade her husband good-bye and climbed down the ladder of the Titanic to the waiting lifeboats. But the widow was too worn physically and too greatly bowed down with grief to make the change. She wore a thin raincoat which reached nearly to the ground. Its folds were wrinkled. A heavy veil completely covered her head, crushing down her hat.
MET AT THE CUNARD PIER.
Following her from the cab came her son and Henry Thayer, a brother of the former railroad man. Dr. Gamble, the family physician, and Mr. Norris, a relative of Mrs. Thayer, were also in the party which had met her at the Cunard pier.
As the widow of their former chief passed them, the employes of the railroad stopped and removed their hats. T. DeWitt Cuyler, a director of the Pennsylvania Railroad, saw her coming and stepped toward her. As he did so, Dr. Neidermeier quickly grasped his arm and drew him to one side where Mrs. Thayer would not hear.
“Mr. Thayer is dead,” the physician whispered silently. Mr. Cuyler gripped the doctor’s hand and then, his face working violently, he turned quickly away.
It was only a few minutes after Mrs. Thayer had stepped on board the car that the train started for Philadelphia. It left the station at 10.19 o’clock.