“Which of your sisters shall I like best?”
And Wilford had answered her by asking,
“Which do you like best, books or going to parties in full dress?”
“Oh, parties and dress,” Katy had said, and Wilford had then rejoined,
“You will like Juno best, for she is all fashion and gayety, while Blue-Bell prefers her books and the quiet of her own room.”
Katy felt afraid of Bell, and in fact, now that they were so near, she felt afraid of them all, notwithstanding Esther’s assurances that they could not help loving her. During the six months they had been together Esther had learned to feel for her young lady that strong affection which sometimes exists between mistress and servant. Everything which she could do for her she did, smoothing as much as possible the meeting which she also dreaded, for though the Camerons were too proud to express before her their opinion of Wilford’s choice, she had guessed it readily, and pitied the young wife brought up with ideas so different from those of her husband’s family. More accustomed to Wilford’s moods than Katy, she saw that something was the matter, and it prompted her to unusual attentions, stirring the fire into a cheerful blaze and bringing a stool for Katy, who, in blissful ignorance of her husband’s real feelings, sat waiting his return from the telegraph office whither she supposed he had gone, and building pleasant pictures of to-morrow’s meeting with her mother and Helen, and possibly Dr. Morris, if not Uncle Ephraim himself.
So absorbed was she in her reverie as not to hear Wilford’s step as he came in, but when he stood behind her and took her head playfully between his hands, she started up, feeling that the weather had changed; it was not as cold and dreary in Boston as she imagined, and laying her head on Wilford’s shoulder, she said,
“You went out to telegraph, didn’t you?”
He had gone out with the intention of telegraphing as she desired, but in the hall below he had met with an old acquaintance who talked with him so long that he entirely forgot his errand until Katy recalled it to his mind, making him feel very uncomfortable as he frankly told her of his forgetfulness.
“It is too late now,” he added, “besides you could only see them for a moment, just long enough to make you cry—a thing I do not greatly desire, inasmuch as I wish my wife to look her best when I present her to my family, and with red eyes she couldn’t, you know.”