“Plague on that Marian,” was Isabel’s unlady-like thought as the door closed after Frederic. “I wonder how many times she’s coming to life! How I wanted to charge him with his meanness in marrying her fortune, but as that is a secret between the two, he would have suspected me of treachery. The villain! I believe I hate him—and only to think how those folks in Kentucky will laugh. But it’s all Agnes’ doings. She inveigled more out of me than there was to tell, and then repeated it to suit herself. The jade! I hope she’s happy with that old man”—and at this point Isabel broke down in a flood of tears, in the midst of which the door bell rang again, and hurrying up the stairs she listened to the names, which this time were “Mr. and Mrs. Rivers,” (Agnes and her husband) and they asked for her.
Drying her tears, and bathing her eyes until the redness was gone, Isabel went down to meet the “tattling mischief-maker,” embracing her very affectionately, and telling her how delighted she was to see her again, and how well she was looking.
“Then why do you not embark on the sea of matrimony yourself, if you think it such a beautifier,” said Agnes.
“Me?” returned Isabel, with a toss of her head; “I thought I wrote you that I had given up that foolish fancy.”
“Indeed, so you did,” said Agnes, “but I had forgotten it, and when I saw Mr. Raymond at the Tontine, where we are stopping, I supposed of course he had come to see you, and I said to Mr. Rivers it really was too bad, for from what he said at our wedding I fancied there was nothing in it, and had made up my mind to take you with us to Florida, as I once talked of doing. Husband’s sister wants a teacher for her children, don’t she, dear?”
Mr. Rivers was about to answer in the affirmative, but ere he could speak Isabel chimed in, “Oh, you kind, thoughtful soul. Let me go with you now; do. Nothing could please me more. I have missed your society so much, and am so unhappy here!” and in the black eyes there was certainly a tear, which instantly touched the heart of the sympathetic old man who anticipated his wife’s reply, by saying, “Certainly you shall go, if you like. You’ll be company for Mrs. Rivers, and if I am in my dotage, as some say, I’ve sense enough to know that she can’t be contented all the time with her grandfather. Eh, Aggie?” and chucked his bride under the chin.
“Disgusting!” thought Isabel.
“Old fool!” thought Agnes, who was really rather pleased with the idea of having Isabel go with her to her new home, for though she did not love her dear friend, she rather enjoyed her company, and she felt that anybody was acceptable who would stand as a third person between herself and the grandfather she had chosen.
The more she thought of the plan the better she was pleased with it, and before parting the whole was amicably adjusted. Early in October, Isabel was to join her friend in Kentucky, and go with her from thence to Florida, where she was either to remain with Mrs. Rivers, or to teach in the family of Mrs. McGregor, Mr. Rivers’ sister. The former was what Isabel intended to do, for she thoroughly disliked teaching, and if she could live without it, she would. Still she did not so express herself to her visitors, and she appeared so gracious and so grateful withal, that, the heart of the bridegroom was wholly won, and after his return to their hotel, he extolled her so highly that Agnes began to pout, a circumstance which pleased her fatherly spouse, inasmuch as it augured more affection for himself than he had supposed her to possess.
The story of Isabel’s intended trip to Florida was not long in reaching Rudolph McVicar, who had been wondering why something didn’t occur, and if he were really to be disappointed after all.