"Do you feel able to ride in the carriage?"
"O, yes—to go home."
I went ashore, and soon found a carriage. I need hardly say that Emily's clothing was in very bad condition, though Flora had done what she could to improve it. Fortunately, it was nearly dark, and her appearance did not excite much attention. I could not permit her to go alone, and she insisted that Flora should accompany her. I left Sim in charge of the raft, with the promise to return soon. The carriage conveyed us to the number in Claiborne Street indicated by Emily. It was an elegant mansion, and I was abashed by the splendors that were presented to my view as I entered.
The coming of Emily created a sensation among the servants; but her father was not at home, though he was momentarily expected. Flora and I were conducted to a magnificent parlor, whose splendors exceeded anything of which I had ever dreamed. Emily went up stairs, to clothe herself properly before her father came. The poor girl wept bitterly as she entered the house which she had left three weeks before with her mother. The torrent of grief was renewed as she gazed again upon the familiar scenes which had always been so closely associated with the dear one who was gone.
A mulatto servant-man came into the room where Flora and I were. He had just greeted his young mistress, and his eyes were still filled with tears.
"We have been expecting Miss Emily for several days," said he. "Her father has suffered everything on her account."
"I am sorry she was delayed, but she would not leave my sister," I replied.
"But how did she come? It was a very slow steamer," he added.
"It was not a steamer. Didn't she write to her father?"
"Yes; but she didn't say what she was coming in; only that she was with very good friends, and should be home in a week or ten days."