Mr. Rutledge made some rejoinder complimentary to Miss Josephine's powers of endurance, then concluded his brief adieux to me, and with "more last words" to the others, withdrew. Josephine leaned rather listlessly against the mantelpiece, said, "Mamma, how very well Mr. Rutledge is looking!" then going to the piano, asked me if I played, and sitting down, ran her fingers lightly over the keys, while I approached, and standing by her, listened admiringly to her delicate and masterly touch. I felt stranger and forlorner than ever, though, as she played on, talking to me idly as she played, till her mother called to her, rather sharply:
"Josephine, you are very thoughtless; don't you know she is tired? Come, my dear, you had better go upstairs immediately."
Josephine leaned over her shoulder, touched my cheek, lightly with her lips, and said, "Good night; you'll feel brighter by to-morrow."
My aunt called Grace to take me up to my room, kissed me good-night, and said she hoped I would be comfortable. Grace, who had just established herself at her embroidery, pouted slightly, and said in French (a language with which, it seemed taken for granted, I was unacquainted), "Why can't Josephine?" rising slowly to obey, nevertheless. A few sharp words silenced her speedily; another silvery good-night to me, and I followed my cousin upstairs. A more cat-in-a-strange-garrety, uncomfortable, bewildered feeling I never before had experienced; from Mr. Rutledge down, they all seemed to treat me as if I were somebody else. "If I be I, as I do hope I be," I ejaculated, with a miserable attempt at a laugh, as the old nursery rhyme came into my head, "perhaps I shall know myself when I am left alone and have time to think." But Grace did not seem inclined to allow me that luxury; for, having conducted me to my room, she came in, and did the honors rather more graciously than I had expected, lit the gas, pulled down the shades, put my bonnet and cloak away in the wardrobe, and then sat down on the foot of the bed, and looked at me with great appearance of interest. The fact was, Grace possessed, in no ordinary degree, that truly womanly trait, curiosity; and justly considered, that as she had been made to come upstairs against her will, it was but fair that she should compensate herself in any lawful way that presented, and now that she was up here, to see as much as she could of the manners and habits of the new comer.
With a view to this harmless little entertainment, she began her investigations by saying:
"Where's the rest of your baggage? In the closet?"
(She was leaning over the balusters when my trunk was brought up, and knew, as well as I did, that there was only one.)
"No," I said, blushing, "I didn't have but that trunk."
Grace squeezed up her mouth a little, but didn't make any rejoinder.
"Do you like your room?" she asked, after a minute.