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It was so late in September that the morning was a little hazy and uncertain. And yet the air was warm and soft a perfect reflex, I thought, of Bessie last night an electric softness under a brooding cloud. The little house lay wrapped in slumber. I hesitated to pull the bell: no, it would startle Mrs. Sloman. Bessie was coming: she would surely not make me wait.
"Miss Stewart's gone to live with the Shakers. My husband drove her over with his team her and her trunk." "Why, where was her aunt? Did Mrs. Sloman know? Why isn't Miss Bessie with her?" "Miss' Sloman said all she could afterward I guess," said the woman, wiping her eyes, "but 'twan't no use then.
The two young ladies were driving off in Fanny Meyrick's phaeton, having evidently come to the hotel and waited while it was being made ready. "Pique for pique! Serves me right, I suppose." Evening found me at the Sloman cottage, waiting with Mrs. Sloman by the tea-table. Why do I always remember her, sitting monumental by the silver urn? "The girls are very late to-night." "Yes."
Sloman had been at pains to tell me, when my frequent visits to her cottage made it necessary that I should in some fashion explain to her as to what I wanted there, that her niece, Bessie Stewart, was in nowise dependent on her, not even for a home. "This cottage we rent in common.
Sloman best, the only person besides ourselves whom it concerned us to please, settled it in Bessie's mind, although she anxiously inquired several times before the doctor left if I felt equal to going to church. Suppose I should faint on the way? I was equal to it, for I took a long nap on the sofa in Mrs.
No word of reproach fell from their lips, and when they asked George Robinson to give them the advantage of his recognized talents in drawing up the bills for the sale, they put it to him quite as a favour; and Sloman, the assignee, went so far as to suggest that he should be remunerated for his work. "If I can only be of any service to you," said Robinson, modestly.
I have seen her do generous things, and she is never out of temper." "Thanks!" said Bessie, nodding her head till the blue feather trembled. "It is as well, as Aunt Sloman says, to keep my shortcomings before you." "When did Aunt Sloman say that?" I interrupted, hoping for a diversion of the subject. "This morning only. I was late at breakfast.
"Miss Stewart's gone to live with the Shakers. My husband drove her over with his team her and her trunk." "Why, where was her aunt? Did Mrs. Sloman know? Why isn't Miss Bessie with her?" "Miss' Sloman said all she could afterward I guess," said the woman, wiping her eyes, "but 'twan't no use then.
The elder lady seemed delicate, and the young lady quite anxious that she should stay here to-night and go on in the morning. But no, she would go on to-night." I took the midnight train for Philadelphia. They would surely not go farther to-night if Mrs. Sloman seemed such an invalid. I scanned every hotel-book in vain.
It was a deep wound, and she shrank from any talk about it. I had to be very gentle and tender before she would listen to me at all. But there was something else at work against me what was it? something that I could neither see nor divine. And it was not altogether made up of Aunt Sloman, I was sure. "I cannot leave her now, Charlie. Dr.
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