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."