Saratoga is a queer place. One sees congregated there, at the height of the season, delegates from every part of the world. Fashion's ladder is transplanted thither, and all its rounds are filled. Beauty, wealth, pride, and folly are well represented; also wit, genius, and learning. Idleness reigns supreme, and no one, not even the most active and industrious citizens of our working land, dares, in this her legitimate province, to dispute her temporary sway. Every rank of society, every profession, and almost every trade, meet each other on an easy and friendly footing. The acknowledged belle, the bearer of an aristocratic name, the owner of a well-filled purse, the renowned scholar, artist, or poet, have all a conspicuous sphere to shine in.
It was a new experience to Gertrude, and although in the Congress Hall she saw only the reflection of Saratoga gaiety, and heard only the echo of its distant hum, there was enough of novelty and excitement to entertain and surprise one who was a novice in fashionable life. In the circle of high-bred, polished, literary, and talented persons whom Madam Gryseworth drew about her, and into which Dr. Jeremy's party were admitted, Gertrude found much that was congenial to her cultivated taste, and she soon was appreciated as she deserved. Madam Gryseworth was a lady of the old school—one who had all her life been accustomed to the best society, and who continued, in spite of her advanced years, to enjoy and to adorn it. For the first day or two Mrs. Jeremy stood much in awe of her, and could not feel quite at ease in her presence; but this feeling wore off, and the stout little doctor's lady soon became confiding and chatty towards the august dame.
One evening, when the Jeremys had been a week at Saratoga, as Emily and Gertrude were leaving the tea-table, they were joined by Netta Gryseworth, who, linking her arm in Gertrude's, exclaimed, in her usual gay manner, "Gertrude, I shall quarrel with you soon!"
"Indeed!" said Gertrude; "on what grounds?"
"Jealousy."
Gertrude blushed slightly.
"Oh, you needn't turn so red; it is not on account of any grey-headed gentleman staring at you all dinner-time from the other end of the table. No; I'm indifferent on that score. Ellen and you may disagree about Mr. Phillips' attentions, but I'm jealous of those of another person."
"I hope Gertrude isn't interfering with your happiness in any way," said Emily, smiling.
"She is, though," replied Netta. "My happiness, my pride, my comfort; she is undermining them all. She would not dare to so conduct herself, Miss Graham, if you could see her behaviour."
"Tell me all about it," said Emily, coaxingly, "and I will promise to interest myself for you."