Maria still waited, and still her step-mother hesitated. At last, however, she spoke out boldly and defiantly.
“Mrs. Voorhees's sister, Miss Angelica Wyatt, is going with them,” said she. “Mrs. Voorhees is not going to take Paul; she will leave him with her mother. She says travelling is altogether too hard on children.”
“Does she?”
“Yes; and so there are three in the party. Miss Wyatt has her state-room to herself, and—they have asked me to go. The passage will not cost me anything. All the expense I shall have will be my board, and travelling fares abroad.”
Maria looked at her step-mother, who visibly shrank before her, then looked at her with defiant eyes.
“Then you are going?” she said.
“Yes. I have made up my mind that it is a chance which Providence has put in my way, and I should be foolish, even wicked, to throw it away, especially now. I am not well. Your dear father's death has shattered my nerves.”
Maria looked, with a sarcasm which she could not repress, at her step-mother's blooming face, and her rounded form.
“I have consulted Mrs. Voorhees's physician, in New York,” said Ida quickly, for she understood the look. “I consulted him when I went to the city with Mrs. Voorhees last Monday, and he says I am a nervous wreck, and he will not answer for the consequences unless I have a complete change of scene.”
“What about Evelyn?” asked Maria, in a dry voice.