But at last the time was over, and no further pretext could delay her going. Pale and heartsick, she was standing on the steamer’s deck beside her husband while they rounded the last curve of James River, that brought picturesque Libby Hill into full view, with all its bittersweet memories.
It was three years and a half since she had crouched on yonder hill, a forlorn little figure with wet eyes and a pale, pale face, watching the steamer bearing away her young husband on that mission which he said was to make him rich enough to claim the bride he had wedded in secret. How it all rushed over her again as she stood there by the side of her proud, rich husband, and listened mechanically as he pointed out with pride and enthusiasm the beauties of the river and the land.
“How glad I am to be in Virginia again!” he exclaimed; but Pansy’s smile was sadder than tears.
Juliette had sent the family carriage, with its high-stepping bay horses, to meet them, and soon they were borne swiftly toward their home; but while Colonel Falconer’s thoughts went toward Franklin Street and its aristocratic environments, his fair young bride was thinking of the humble house on Church Hill, where her mother was mourning the loss of her youngest born—the household pet.
“Oh, mother, mother, mother, if only I dared go to you in your sorrow!” was the cry of her heart.
But she knew that she must remain dead to that beloved mother. There was her husband and her position to be considered, and there was Willie, who had sworn in his wrath to kill the sister who had brought disgrace on a respectable family. Her own safety, if nothing else, demanded silence.
“Here we are, my darling, at home!” exclaimed Colonel Falconer’s voice, seeming to come from far away, so intently had she been brooding over her sorrows.
She glanced out, and saw the sunset gleams lighting up, like jewels, the windows of an old-fashioned red brick mansion, set in a pretty green lawn studded with shrubbery and flowers. He looked up at the broad porch, guarded by two lions, and said, in a tone of disappointment:
“Juliette is too dignified to come out on the porch to welcome us home. She will be waiting in the hall.”
He led his lovely bride up the steps, and, with a strong effort of will, Pansy threw off her agitation and braced herself to meet Juliette Ives with pride and dignity equal to her own.