Everard had been gone nearly two weeks instead of one, and Rosamond had not heard from him except through Mr. Russell, who told her that the business, which had reference to sundry infringements on patents and some missing deeds, was occupying him longer than he had supposed it would, as it required much research and a good deal of travel; “but he ought to be home now, very soon,” he said to her one rainy morning in November, when he came to see her on business and found her sick in her room with a sore throat and severe cold. Rossie had been very lonely with both Everard and Beatrice away,—for the latter had been in New York since September, and at last accounts was on her way to Florida with Mollie Morton, who wished to try the effect of a milder climate than Vermont, and as Mr. Morton could not leave his church in Boston, which had now become a permanency, Bee had consented to accompany her, so Rossie was alone, and in a measure defenseless, on the afternoon when Mrs. Markham announced that the hack which ran to and from the depot had turned into the avenue and was coming to the house, and that it contained two ladies and at least three trunks, if not four.
“Ladies and trunks coming here?” Rossie exclaimed, starting up in bed and trying to listen to the voices, which were soon heard speaking together at the side door, where the hack had stopped.
But she could distinguish nothing, and Mrs. Markham went to ascertain who the strangers were. Half-way down the stairs she met old Aunt Axie, who held in her hand a black-bordered card on which was engraved the name, “Mrs. J. E. Forrest.”
“The young lady done gin me this to fotch to Miss Hastings,” Axie said, as she handed the card to Mrs. Markham, who twice repeated the name “Mrs. J. E. Forrest.”
“Who can she be? Had the judge any near relatives?” she asked Axie, who replied:
“Not’s I knows on. I never hearn tell of any J. E. Forrests, but Mars’r Everard.”
“Where is the lady?” was Mrs. Markham’s next question, and Axie replied:
“In the ’ception room, kind of shivrin’ and shakin’ as if she war cold. I reckon she’s come to stay a spell, case the four big trunks is all in a pile in de side entry, and she acts as ef she think she belong here, for she ask sharp like, ‘Ain’t thar no fire you can take me to? I’m chilled through.’
“‘Thar’s a fire in Miss Rossie’s room,’ I said, ‘but she’s sick.’
“‘Miss who?’ she said, sharper still. ‘Is it Miss Hastings you mean? Take her my card and say I’d like to see her if possible,’ and that’s every blessed thing I know ’bout ’em, only the old one looks queer and scart like, and nothin’ in the house for dinner but a bit of bacon,” and having told all she knew of the visitors, Axie went on her way to report the same to Rosamond, and confer with her about the dinner and the rooms the guests were to occupy, while Mrs. Markham went down to the reception-room to meet Mrs. J. E. Forrest.