Oakley looked at her anxious and inquiringly, and she continued, “We leave here to-day; an unexpected letter reached us this morning, urging us to be ready at any hour.”
“And what am I to do without you?” asked the artist, in a very natural and love-like way, and he followed the question with a short oration, unnecessary to repeat. But before he had finished it, a carriage stopped at the door, and in half a minute an elderly gentleman presented himself in the entry.
“My uncle!” exclaimed Miss Thompson, running forward to conceal her confusion, and the old gentleman, after kissing her heartily, said quickly, “Are you ready, my dear? Where’s your mamma? I hope you have your trunks packed, as I have hardly a minute to allow you. I have urgent business awaiting me at home, and have only been able to fulfil my engagement to come for you, by travelling with all the speed possible. Quick—tell your mother, and put on your things.”
To the disappointment of her suitor, she ran up stairs, while the old gentleman busied himself in seeing the trunks secured behind the carriage. But immediately, with her mother, she came down, fully equipped, and while the old lady was shaking hands with the uncle, she had an opportunity to give him a single look, which one was sufficient: “Good bye, Mr. Wallis,” said she holding out her hand in passing him, “we have been such good friends, that I feel very sorry to part with you.”
“Where shall I find you?” asked Oakley, in a low voice. She slipped a card into his hand as he assisted her into the carriage, and was driven away. He looked at the card. “Valeria North, B——,” he exclaimed; “Is it possible!”
“Yes—didn’t you know that before?” said Wallis, “and that old gentleman is the celebrated jurist Judge North. When Sutton finds it out, he’ll be more fretted than he was at the portrait. She is a charming girl, isn’t she? I recognized her the minute she arrived, having had a glimpse of her before she left the Springs last summer, but as she seemed to wish to be quiet, and to escape attention, it was not my business to blab. I’ll go up to Smith’s and have some fun with Sutton.” He walked up street, and the artist commenced preparations for an immediate departure.
“Why Sutton,” said Wallis, when he reached the room of that personage; “what possessed you to fly off, the other day, with such terrible frowns at the pretty girl you had been courting so long? It was outrageous, and what is the worst, you can’t have a chance to make it up,—she left town to-day, for good.”
“Did she?—a pleasant journey to her!” said Sutton, brightening up astonishingly.
“What!—she jilted you, did she?”
“She! I found her out in good time for that!—though if it had not been for a lucky accident, I might have got myself into a confounded scrape; it would have been a fine mess, if I had been deceived into proposing to a schoolmistress!”