A visit to Mrs. Sherman's Room—Daddy and his new Spouse—Ominous Signs.
efore opening another letter, let us pay a flying visit to the Sherman family, and also to Daddy and his spouse.
The former are to be found in their old quarters at Pendleton, the latter installed in the brown house at Chimney Rock.
It is near midnight, rather an unseasonable hour to intrude upon our friends, but no matter; at the house we shall first enter; regular habits do not prevail.
We will now imagine ourselves in the broad hall, on the second floor of the finest hotel in Pendleton.
Open softly the door at your right. There the eldest Mrs. Sherman lies sleeping. Her grey hair is parted smoothly under her white frilled cap, her hands are folded resignedly upon her breast, and the angel of her dreams has imprinted upon her features the chastened smile so often seen upon the face of age.
We would fain prolong her slumbers, for, alas, we cannot stay the swiftly drifting cloud, that is coming to darken her waking hours: the silver lining of which she will not see, until, a spirit winged for glory, she soars above it.
A confusion of sounds from below reaches us. Footsteps are upon the stairs, uncertain, shuffling, as if grouping in darkness. Low, persuasive voices are heard, a sharp retort follows. "No, Clara is fiendish when I have been drinking, I will not meet her."
A woman has just brushed past us. She stands at the head of the stairs, pale and determined.