"Is he about the store this morning; or will I have to go to the mill to see him?" asked the raftsman.
"You will not see him at all, this trip, I'm afraid. Mr. Moore has gone on East; he's been away several weeks now, and I hardly know when to expect him. He was called there quite unexpectedly, upon business connected with his uncle, and their relatives in England. It would not surprise me at all if he should bring a bride home—that is, if he can persuade his fair cousin that the West is not such a terrible savage wilderness as she supposes."
Mr. Raymond was perfectly honest in this remark. He knew that Virginia Moore used to be the idol of his friend; and as Philip had not communicated the change in his ideas, he still supposed that Philip was only waiting to get rich enough to go home and marry her; and as Philip was now doing so well with his western enterprises, he had planned it all out in his own imagination—fortune, acceptance, and the happy finale of a grand wedding. He could not help looking over at the pretty forester to see how she received the news, but the portly person of the old colored woman had come between them, and he could not see her face.
"Laws, Miss Alice, do see them yere calikers—they're sruperb! Look at that red one with the blue flowers—'tain't so handsome though, as this with the yaller. My! my! thar's a jewerlly shop across the way. Yer fadder ought to take yer in dar', fust place. Young gals likes them places. Laws, darlin', dis don't compare wid New York City. Le's have a drink of water, and step over de street."
All this volubility was to screen the young girl from scrutiny. A pitcher of water stood on the counter, near her, and she poured a glass for her mistress. But Alice waved the glass away, and arose without any signs of grief and pain in her face; but the expression had changed—an icy pride composed every feature; she asked the merchant to show her some of his goods in a clear, low tone as sweet as it was passionless. Her hand did not tremble as she turned over silks and laces.
"Good for her! She's got her father's grit," thought the raftsman to himself, while his own throat swelled almost to choking with anger and grief, and he felt that if he only had Philip Moore within sight he would have the satisfaction of thrashing a little conscience into him.
Neither he nor Alice any longer doubted the statements of Ben Perkins. Mr. Moore had ridiculed them—had mockingly given another permission to console her whom he had forsaken—had said that he was going East to marry a more fit companion. As the raftsman looked in the quiet face of his child which repelled sympathy with a woman's pride—that pride so terrible because it covers such tortured sensibilities—his blood boiled up with ungovernable rage. He was not accustomed to concealing his sentiments upon any subject.
"Let them finnified fixin's alone, Alice," he said, taking her hand and drawing her away. "Men that make it a business to handle that sort of thing, grow about as flimsy as their wares. I despise 'em. I want you to understand, Mr. Raymond, that all connection between me and this firm, business or other, is dissolved. I won't even take your cussed money. When Mr. Moore returns, tell him that the laws of hospitality practised by your four-story-bricks ain't known in squatters' cabins, and if he ever comes on my premises again I'll consider myself at liberty to shoot him down for a dog;" and before the surprised merchant could reply he had strode forth.
"Come 'long, Saturn! don' stan' dar' starin'; don't yer see masser's gone? I shall be sorry I brought yer 'long ef yer don't behabe wid more propisciousness. What der s'pose folks 'll tink your missus and masser is, ef you don't act like a fust-family nigger? Ef yer don't do credit to Miss Alice, I'll nebber bring you 'way from home agin;" and Pallas took "her nigger" by the elbow and drew him away from the fascinating array of dry-goods and ready-made clothing.
That afternoon Captain Wilde and his daughter sat in a little private sitting-room of the hotel, overlooking the street. Every thing was novel to Alice. This was absolutely her first experience away from her forest home. Yet upon all the busy, bustling scene beneath her she gazed with vacant eyes.