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"You are the Edwards boy, aren't you?" said the doctor. Jerome humbly acknowledged his identity. "What do you want? Has your mother sent you on an errand?" "No, sir." "Well, what is it, then?" "Please, sir, may I speak to you a minute?" "Speak to me?" "Yes, sir." Doctor Prescott wore a massive gold watch-chain festooned across his fine black satin vest.
Besides General Sheridan, there were in the party Leonard and Lawrence Jerome, Carroll Livingstone, James Gordon Bennett, J. G. Heckscher, General Fitzhugh, Schuyler Crosby, Dr. Asch, Mr. McCarthy, and other well-known men.
All the "nice" people in London were there. All the young men who now will never go to balls were present. This was from respect to the high character of Lord St. Jerome. Clare Arundel looked divine, dressed in a wondrous white robe garlanded with violets, just arrived from Paris, a present from her god-mother, the Duchess of Lorrain-Sehulenbourg.
AFTER passing a sleepless night, and hearing the clock strike six, Jerome took from his table a book, and thus endeavored to pass away the hours before breakfast-time. While thus engaged, a servant entered and handed him a note. Hastily tearing it open, Jerome read as follows:
Jerome started and stared at him, half anxiously, half resentfully. "Ain't it right, sir?" he stammered. "Oh, your scheme is right enough; no trouble about that. The question is whether Doctor Prescott is right." Eben Merritt burst into another roar of laughter as he arose and set the boy on his feet.
Jerome agreed over a friendly cup of tea that there were 'a many husbands as was very fine spoken an' all that, an' yet all the while kep' a will locked up from you, as tied you up as tight as anything. I assure you, Mrs. Jerome continued, dropping her voice in a confidential manner, 'I know no more to this day about Mr. Jerome's will, nor the child as is unborn.
"Come along with me," said Squire Eben, and forthwith Jerome had followed him out of the woods into the road, and down it until they reached his sister's, Miss Camilla Merritt's, house, not far from Doctor Prescott's.
Like balls of fire, the poor man's eyes rolled and glared upon the company, while large drops of perspiration ran down his pale and emaciated face. Strange as the scene appeared, all present saw that it was indeed a meeting between a father and his long-lost daughter. Jerome now ordered all present to leave the room, except the nurse, and every effort was at once made to quiet the sufferer.
If that were so, we may surmise that it was the Morning Star which guided the wise men of the East to Bethlehem, the hallowed spot which heard, in the language of Jerome, the weeping of the infant Christ and the lament for Adonis. XXXIV. The Myth and Ritual of Attis
Next morning, as she went to Mass accompanied by Mariette her mother was not well Rosalie took the maid's arm, which surprised the country wench not a little. "Mariette," said she, "is Jerome in his master's confidence?" "I do not know, mademoiselle." "Do not play the innocent with me," said Mademoiselle de Watteville drily.
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