Miss Tildy, by the advice of her bride-sister, enacted the pathetic very perfectly. She wept, sighed, and, I do believe, fainted or tried to faint. This was at the special suggestion of her sister, who duly commended and appreciated her.
Mr. Summerville, for the several days that he remained with us, looked, and was, I suppose, the very personification of delight.
In about a week or ten days after the solemnization of the matrimonial rite, Mr. Summerville made his "better half" (or worse, I know not which), understand that very important business urged his immediate return to the city. Of course, whilst the novelty of the situation lasted, she was as obedient and complaisant as the most exacting husband could demand, and instantly consented to her lord's request. She bade me get ready to accompany her; and, as she had heard that people from the country were judged according to the wardrobe of their servants, she prepared for me quite a decent outfit.
One bright morning, I shall ever remember it, we started off with innumerable trunks, band-boxes, &c.—for the city of L——. Without one feeling of regret, I turned my face from the Peterkin farm. I never saw it after, save in dark and fearful dreams, from which I always awoke with a shudder. I felt half-emancipated, when my back was turned against it, and in the distance loomed up the city and freedom. I had a queer fancy, that if the Peterkin influence were once thrown off, the rest would speedily succeed!
If I had only been allowed, I could have shouted out like a school-boy freed from a difficult lesson; but Miss Jane's checking glance was upon me, and 'twas like winter's frozen breath over a gladsome lake.
I well remember the beautiful ride upon the boat, and how long and lingeringly I gazed over the guard, looking down at the blue, dolphin-like waves. All the day, whilst others lounged and talked, I was looking at those same curling, frothy billows, making, in my own mind, fifty fantastic comparisons, which then appeared to me very brilliant, but, since I have learned to think differently. Truly, the foam has died on the wave.
When night came on, wrapped in her sombre purple, yet glittering with a cuirass of stars and a helmet of planets, the waters sparkled and danced with a fairy-like beauty, and I thought I had never beheld anything half so ecstatic! There was none on that crowded steamer who dreamed of the glory that was nestling, like a thing of love, deep and close down in the poor slave's breast!
To those who surrounded me, this was but an ordinary sight; to me it was one of strange, unimagined loveliness. I was careful however, to disguise my emotions. I would have given worlds (had I been their possessor) to speak my joy in one wild word, or to shout it forth in a single cry.
This pleasure, like all others, found its speedy end. The next morning, about ten o'clock, we landed in L—, a city of some commercial consequence in the West. Indeed, by old residents of the interior of Kentucky, it is regarded as "the city." I have often since thought of my first landing there; of its dusty, dirty coal-besmoked appearance; of its hedge of drays, its knots of garrulous and noisy drivers, and then the line of dusky warehouses, storage rooms, &c. All this instantly rises to my mind when I hear that growing city spoken of.