"I have taken the liberty to send him up to the St. Charles with your luggage. You will, of course, breakfast there," said the attorney, blandly.
"Such was not my intention," replied she, as a cold tremor—she knew not why—agitated her.
"I am sorry to have mistaken your purpose; the ride to Bellevue is a long one to take without any refreshment."
"I mind it not; my haste is too great to admit of any delay."
"I sent by your servant to order an early breakfast, and a carriage at seven o'clock."
"Very well, I will conform to the arrangement you have made," replied Emily, with a dissatisfied air.
A carriage was called from the mass which had congregated, whose drivers were not a whit behind those of the metropolitan city in earnest perseverance; and De Guy assisted her into it, seating himself at a respectful distance on the forward seat.
Now, the act of engaging a cab or a carriage is of itself quite an easy matter; but we question whether passengers are generally as well suited as in the present instance. Without troubling the worthy Mr. De Guy with any foolish queries as to where he should drive them, the Jehu mounted his box, and conducted his team apparently to the entire satisfaction of his fare. It may be that the intelligent driver had a way of divining the wishes of his customers; or it may be that De Guy, in deference to any supposed repugnance to business matters on the part of his companion, had previously discussed this topic. Without any design of prejudicing the reader's mind in favor of the latter supposition, we confess our inclination to accept it as correct.
Emily vainly attempted to assure herself that her companion was conducting her in good faith to the home of her early years. An undefined feeling of insecurity was painfully besetting her, whichever way she turned. She considered and reconsidered the evidences he had brought to Cottage Island of the truth of his own statements, and of his own trustworthiness. It was all in vain. Could those papers have been forgeries? It was a terrible thought to her.
The carriage stopped, and the attorney invited her to alight. Change—anything, was a relief to the painful sensations which had almost overpowered her, and without reflection she did so. Her faculties were so confused she did not notice that it was not the private entrance of the St. Charles. She took everything for granted, and accepted the offered arm of De Guy. She crossed the broad side-walk, and, raising her eyes, was overwhelmed by seeing at the side of the door she was about to enter the sign of "Anthony Marwell, Attorney and Counsellor at Law."