My memory quickly recalled the scene Miss Hill alluded to. I had been visiting Mary Clemson the week before, and had been present at the conversation with little Sallie Foster. The remark quoted had been meant to apply merely to temporal trials; and as the sobbing Sallie left the room, I remembered the touching, sad expression of my noble, strong-minded friend’s countenance, as she turned to me, and said, “Heaven grant the poor child may never have real trials to weep for.”
“It’s well she is strong enough to overcome natural feeling,” said Cornelia Payne, in reply to Miss Hill’s remark, “that is, well for her own worldly comfort, I mean, but I do not admire such unfeeling persons.”
This was going a little too far for my patience, for I respected and loved Cornelia Payne, though I knew her to be somewhat uncharitable, and harsh in her judgments of others.
“Cornelia,” I said, “Miss Clemson is not unfeeling; she has as warm and sensitive a heart as any one I know.”
“Oh, we forgot,” exclaimed the Misses Lee in a breath, “that Miss Clemson was an intimate friend of Miss Duval’s.”
“Yes,” I said, looking at Mrs. Knowles, “my mother knew Miss Clemson’s mother, when she was the rich heiress, Miss Fleming; and your father Mrs. Knowles, made Miss Fleming’s carriage, which was the talk of the town, at the time of her marriage with Mr. Clemson. I have heard my mother frequently speak of it. You remember it, do you not, Mrs. Payne?” I asked, turning to Cornelia’s mother.
“Perfectly well, my dear,” replied this gentlest of all gentlewomen, smiling at my sudden arousing. My tongue was now unloosened, and I felt ready to measure swords, or the more feminine weapon, darning-needles, with them all. I continued —
“I must scold my pretty, thoughtless friend, Mrs. Fenton, for deceiving Miss Clemson. She assured us that only Mrs. Fay and ourselves would be with her last evening; and you, Cornelia, were only invited, because I had promised you and your mother to commence my visit here yesterday, and Mrs. Fenton wanted to secure me, to accompany Mary Clemson. Mrs. Fenton has been one of Miss Clemson’s most attentive friends, and Mrs. Fay knew Mary’s mother when she was a girl. Mrs. Fay wanted to see Miss Clemson on business, and was too infirm to go to her; she wishes Miss Clemson to take charge of her nieces, the Miss Foresters.”
“What, our cousins the Foresters?” exclaimed the two Lees. “Why I think Aunt Fay might have consulted with mamma about it,” continued the elder one, “however, it will be a great thing for Miss Clemson to have them, for the girls are immensely wealthy.”
“Yes, Miss Lee.” I replied, trying to be very calm. “But who would have thought, when your aunt, the now rich Mrs. Fay, and your mother kept the fashionable boarding school, at which Miss Fleming was educated, that Miss Fleming’s daughter would in turn be governess to the nieces of Mrs. Fay and her sister. Life has many strange reverses, Mr. Colton.”