I felt perfectly well, and started to follow him, when something in the stranger’s face arrested me, for it seemed to say, “I wouldn’t go.” But he did not speak, and bowing to me very politely, he walked away, while I went after Herbert and Anna, reaching them just in time to witness a part of Mlle. Lisette’s dance, which seemed to me a good deal like the performance of the Circus girl, only “a little more so;” and I felt certain that Cousin Will, had he been there, would have pronounced her superior even to the boasted Albany girl!
When at last it was over, and we were again leaving the room, Dr. Clayton, as if seeing me for the first time, offered me his hand, and in a low tone expressed to me his pleasure that I was to be in the city during the winter; adding, as he cast a furtive glance towards his wife, “You’ll come and see me often, won’t you; for I am very lonely?”
For an instant I felt a thrill of pride, to know that there was yet aught in me which could interest him, but ’twas only for a moment, and then there came up before me thoughts of the stranger, and owing to some unknown influence, which I shall not attempt to explain, the doctor’s power over me was from that moment at an end; and though I still liked him, it was as I would like any friend who evinced a regard for me.
Of the stranger I often thought, wondering who he was and whence he came; but no one knew, and all that I could learn was, that Herbert saw him the next morning standing on the steps of the Revere House, and chancing the same afternoon to be at the Worcester dépôt, he saw him enter the cars bound for Albany, and heard from one of the bystanders that he was a Georgian, and had probably come to Boston after “a runaway nigger!” Being a true born daughter of freedom-loving Massachusetts, this intelligence of course had the effect of cooling my ardor somewhat, and wishing in my heart that every one of his negroes would run away, I banished him for a time from my mind.
After many inquiries, and much consultation with her particular friend Mrs. Ashley, my aunt at last decided to send me to Madam ——’s school; while Anna, after a two weeks’ siege with dress-makers, was introduced into society, where, if she was not a reigning belle, she was at least a favorite; and more than once I heard the most flattering compliments bestowed upon her, while it was thought to be “a pity that her sister was so plain and unpretending in her appearance!”
CHAPTER XII.
ADA MONTROSE.
Aunt Charlotte, Anna, and myself were sitting in the parlor one morning, about four weeks after our arrival in Boston, when the door-bell rang, and the servant ushered in a young lady, who I readily guessed was Ada Montrose, for there was about her an air of languor, as if she had just arisen from a sick bed. All doubt on this point was soon settled by my aunt’s exclaiming, as she hastened to greet her, “Why, Ada, my child, this is a surprise. How do you do?”
The voice which answered was, I thought, the sweetest and most musical I had ever heard, and yet there was in it something which made me involuntarily shudder. I do not know that I believe in presentiments, but sure I am that the moment I heard the tones of Ada Montrose’s voice, and looked upon her face, I experienced a most disagreeable sensation, as if, in some way or other, she would one day cross my path. She was beautiful—so beautiful, that it seemed impossible to detect a single fault either in her features or complexion, though there was in the former an expression which made me feel, when her eyes were fixed upon me, much as the bird must when charmed by the rattlesnake. Do what I would, I could not rid myself of the idea that she was my evil genius, though how in any way she, a proud southern belle, could ever affect me, a plain school-girl of fourteen, was difficult to tell. She was, as I afterwards learned, twenty-two years of age, but being rather diminutive in size, and affecting a great deal of childish simplicity, she passed for four or five years younger; and, indeed, she herself gave her age as eighteen—looking up to Anna, who was really two years her junior, as a very ancient, matronly sort of person, who was supposed to remember as far back as the flood.
Divesting herself of her warm wrappings, which she left upon the floor, and shaking out her long curls, she informed my aunt that she had come to spend the day, saying, by way of apologizing for not having sent her word, that “she had ventured to come without an invitation, she felt herself so perfectly at home.”
Of course Aunt Charlotte was delighted, and after assuring her of the fact, she suddenly remembered our presence, and introduced us to the lady as “Mr. Lee’s nieces from the country.” Not an instant did the large brownish black eyes rest on me, for I was of little importance compared with Anna, who the Thursday night previous had made her first appearance in society, where her sweet face and fresh, unstudied manners had produced something of a sensation, which had undoubtedly reached the ear of the reigning belle. What her thoughts were as she scanned my sister from head to foot, I do not know; but as I watched her, I fancied I could detect an expression of mingled scorn and surprise that one so unassuming should awaken an interest in those who were accustomed to pay her homage. When she had satisfied herself with Anna’s personal appearance, she gave me a hasty glance, and then drawing from her reticule a fanciful mat which she was crotcheting, she leaned back among the soft cushions of her chair, and commenced talking to my aunt in a very artless, childish manner, never noticing us in the least, except once when she asked me to pull the bell rope, which was much nearer to her than me. Several times I fancied she seemed to be listening for something, and when at last I heard Herbert’s voice in the hall and saw the deepening flush on her cheek, I was sure that she felt more than a common interest in him.