Josephine had greatly surprised her sister by walking in upon her unannounced one morning a few days previously, and had still further astonished her by saying that Judge Forrest was dead, and that she had come home in order to go at once to Rothsay and her husband. She laid great stress on that word, and gave Agnes to understand that he had written to her of his father’s death, and that it was at his request she had crossed the sea to join him.
“But won’t he come here for you? Seems to me that would have a better look,” Agnes said, and her sister replied:
“He is quite too busy to waste his time that way, for we can go alone; he knows I am accustomed to traveling. We will start at once, I am so anxious to be there. We can shut up the house for the present, until matters are adjusted, when you or I can come back and see to the things.”
Could Agnes have had her choice she would have preferred remaining where she was, for she dreaded change of any kind. But go she must, for her presence would add weight and respectability to Josephine, who was very kind to her, and made the leaving Holburton as easy as possible. To a few of her old friends Josephine told the secret of her marriage, showing her certificate, and saying, now her father-in-law was dead there was nothing in the way of publishing the marriage to the world, and that she was going to her husband.
Of course all Holburton was excited, some believing the story, others discrediting it, but all remembering the play and the mock marriage which had seemed so solemn and real. But Josephine was not popular, and few if any regrets were sent after her when she started for the Forrest House, which she reached on the chill November day, when everything was looking its very worst.
Even the grounds had a bare, gray look, but they were very spacious and large, and Josephine felt a throb of pride as she rode up the avenue, looking eagerly out at the great, square, old-fashioned building, which, though massive, and stately, and pretentious, was not quite what she had expected to find. There was about it a shut-up, deserted air, which made her ask the hackman if there was any one at home, or why the blinds were all closed except in the wing.
The hackman was a negro who had once been in Judge Forrest’s employ, and he replied:
“Miss Rossie’s dar whar you see de shutters open, but de rest she keep closed sense old marster died.”
There was something like a flash of indignation in Josephine’s eyes as she thought how soon she would change the administration of the household, and make Miss Rossie know her place.
They had reached the side entrance by this time, and Josephine waited in her seat an instant in the hope that her truant lord might come himself to see who his visitors were. In that case she meant to be forgiving, and put her arms around his neck, and kiss him, and whisper in his ear: “I know everything, but I come in peace, not in war. Let us be friends, and do you leave the explanation to me.”