The Lamplighter Part 27

Gertrude, gladly consenting to a short visit, compromised the matter by accompanying them without delay, and it was chiefly owing to the doctor's persevering skill and care bestowed upon his young guest, and the motherly nursing of Mrs. Jeremy, that she escaped the illness which had threatened her.

Mr. and Mrs. W., who felt great sympathy for Gertrude, pressed her to come to their house, and remain until the return of Mr. Graham and Emily; but, on being a.s.sured by her that she was unaware of the period of their absence, and should not probably reside with them for the future, they were satisfied that she acted with wisdom and judgment in at once providing herself with an independent situation.

Mr. and Mrs. Arnold, who had been constant in their attentions, both to Mrs. Sullivan and Gertrude, and were the only persons, except the physician, who had been admitted to the sick room of the invalid, felt that they had a peculiar claim to the care of the doubly-orphaned girl, and urged her to become a member of their household. Mr. Arnold's family being large, and his house and salary small, true benevolence alone prompted this proposal; and on Gertrude's acquainting his economical and prudent wife with the ample means she enjoyed from her own exertions, and the decision she had formed of procuring an independent home, she received the warm approbation of both, and found in the latter an excellent adviser and a.s.sistant.

Mrs. Arnold had a widowed sister who was in the habit of receiving, as boarders, a few young ladies. Gertrude did not know this lady personally, but had heard her warmly praised; and she indulged the hope that through her friend, the minister's wife, she might obtain with her an agreeable and not too expensive residence. In this she was not disappointed. Mrs. Warren had fortunately vacant a large front chamber; and, Mrs. Arnold having recommended Gertrude in the warmest manner, suitable terms were agreed upon, and the room placed at her disposal.

Mrs. Sullivan had bequeathed to her all her furniture, and Mrs. Arnold and her daughters insisted that, in consideration of her recent fatigue and bereavement, she should attend only to her school duties, and leave to them the furnis.h.i.+ng of her room with such articles as she preferred to have placed there, and superintended the packing away of all other movables; for Gertrude was unwilling that anything should be sold. On entering the dining-room the first evening after she took up her residence at Mrs. Warren's, she expected to meet only strangers at the tea-table, but was agreeably disappointed at the sight of f.a.n.n.y Bruce, who, left in Boston while her mother and brother were spending the winter in travelling, had now been several weeks an inmate of Mrs.

Warren's house. f.a.n.n.y was a school-girl, twelve or thirteen years of age; a near neighbour to Gertrude, had been in the habit of seeing her often at Mr. Graham's, and had sometimes begged flowers from her, borrowed books, and obtained a.s.sistance in her fancy-work. She admired Gertrude much; had hailed with delight the prospect of knowing her better, as she hoped to do at Mrs. Warren's; and when she met the gaze of her large, dark eyes, and saw a smile of pleasure overspread her countenance at the sight of a familiar face, she came forward to shake hands, and beg that Miss Flint would sit next her at the table.

f.a.n.n.y Bruce was a girl of good disposition and warm heart, but she had been much neglected by her mother, whose pride was in her son, the same Ben of whom we have previously spoken. She had often been left behind in some boarding-house, while her pleasure-loving mother and indolent brother pa.s.sed their time in journeying; and had not always been so fortunately situated as she was at present.

Gertrude had not been long at Mrs. Warren's before she observed that f.a.n.n.y occupied an isolated position in the family. She was a few years younger than her companions, three dressy misses, who could not condescend to admit her into her clique. Although the privacy of her own room was pleasing to Gertrude's feelings, pity for poor f.a.n.n.y induced her to invite her frequently to come and sit with her, and she often so far forgot her own griefs as to exert herself in providing entertainment for her young visitor, who considered it a privilege to share Gertrude's retirement, read her books, and feel confident of her friends.h.i.+p. During the stormy month of March f.a.n.n.y spent almost every evening with Gertrude; and she, who at first felt that she was making a sacrifice of her comfort and ease by giving another constant access to her apartment, realised the force of Uncle True's prophecy, that, in her efforts for the happiness of others, she would at last find her own; for f.a.n.n.y's lively and amusing conversation drew Gertrude from brooding over her sorrows.

April arrived, and still no news from Emily; Gertrude's heart ached with longing to once more pour out her griefs on the bosom of that dear friend, and find her consolation and support. Gertrude had written regularly, but of late she had not known where to direct her letters; and since Mrs. Sullivan's death there had been no communication between her and the travellers. She was sitting at her window one evening, thinking of those friends lost by absence and by death, when she was summoned to see Mr. Arnold and his daughter Anne. After the usual civilities, Miss Arnold said, "Of course you have heard the news, Gertrude?"

"No," replied Gertrude. "I have heard nothing special."

"What!" exclaimed Mr. Arnold, "have you not heard of Mr. Graham's marriage?"

Gertrude started up in surprise. "Do you really mean so, Mr. Arnold? Mr.

Graham married! When? To whom?"

"To the widow Holbrook, a sister-in-law of Mr. Clinton's; she has been staying at Havanna, with a party from the north, and the Grahams met her there."

"But, Gertrude," asked Mr. Arnold, "how does it happen you have not heard of it? It is in all the newspapers--'Married in New Orleans, J. H.

Graham, Esq., to Mrs. Holbrook.'"

"I have not seen a newspaper for a day or two," replied Gertrude.

"And Miss Graham's blindness, I suppose, prevents her writing," said Anne; "but I thought Mr. Graham would send wedding compliments."

Gertrude made no reply, and Miss Arnold said, "I suppose his bride engrosses all his attention."

"Do you know anything of this Mrs. Holbrook?" asked Gertrude.

"Not much," answered Mr. Arnold. "I have seen her occasionally at Mr.

Clinton's. She is a handsome, showy woman, fond of society, I should think."

"I have seen her very often," said Anne. "She is a coa.r.s.e, noisy, das.h.i.+ng person, just the one to make Miss Emily miserable."

Gertrude looked distressed, and Mr. Arnold glanced reprovingly at her.

"Anne," said he, "are you sure you speak advisedly?"

"Belle Clinton is my authority, father. I only judge from what I used to hear her say at school about her Aunt _Bella_, as she always used to call her."

"Did Isabel represent her aunt so unfavourably?"

"Not intentionally; she meant the greatest praise, but I never liked anything she told us about her."

"We will not condemn her until we can decide upon acquaintance," said Mr. Arnold; "perhaps she will prove the reverse of what you suppose."

"Can you tell me anything concerning Emily?" asked Gertrude, "and whether Mr. Graham is soon to return?"

"Nothing," said Miss Arnold. "When did you hear from them yourself?"

Gertrude mentioned the date of the letter from Mrs. Ellis, the account she had given of a gay party from the north, and suggested that probably Mrs. Graham was the widow she had described.

"The same, undoubtedly," said Mr. Arnold.

Their knowledge of facts were so slight, however, that little remained to be said concerning the marriage, and other topics of conversation were introduced. But Gertrude found it impossible to think of any other subject; the matter was so vitally important to Emily, that her mind constantly recurred to it. The conversation was interrupted by the sudden entrance of Dr. and Mrs. Jeremy. The former held in his hand a sealed letter, directed to Gertrude, in the handwriting of Mr. Graham; and, as he handed it to her, he rubbed his hands, and looking at Anne Arnold, exclaimed, "Now, Miss Anne, we shall hear all about these famous nuptials!"

Finding her visitors eager to learn the contents of her letter, Gertrude broke the seal, and hastily perused its contents. The envelope contained two or three pages closely written by Mrs. Ellis, and also a lengthy note from Mr. Graham. Surprised as Gertrude was at any communication from one who had parted from her in anger, her desire was to hear from Emily, and she preferred the housekeeper's doc.u.ment as most likely to contain the desired information. It ran as follows:--

"NEW YORK, _March 31, 1852_.

"DEAR GERTRUDE,--As there were plenty of Boston folks at the wedding, you have heard before this of Mr. Graham's marriage. He married the widow Holbrook, the same I wrote to you about. She was determined to have him, and she's got him. I don't hesitate to say he's got the worst of the bargain. He likes a quiet life, and he's lost the chance of that--poor man!--for she's the greatest hand for company that ever I saw. She followed Mr. Graham up pretty well at Havanna, but I guess he thought better of it, and didn't mean to have her. But when we got to New Orleans, she was there; and she carried her point, and married him. Emily behaved beautifully; she never said a word against it, and always treated the lady as pleasantly as could be; but, dear me! how will our Emily get along with so many folks about all the time, and so much noise and confusion? For my part, I an't used to it, and it's not agreeable.

The new lady is civil enough to me, now she's married. I daresay she thinks it stands her in hand, as long as she's one of the family, and I've been in it so long. But I suppose you've been wondering what had become of us, Gertrude, and will be surprised to find we have got so far as New York, on our way home--_my_ way home, for I'm the only one that talks of coming at present. I kept meaning to write while we were in New Orleans, but there was so much going on I didn't get the chance; and, after that horrid steamboat from Charleston here, I wasn't good for anything for a week. But Emily was so anxious that I couldn't put off writing any longer. Poor Emily isn't very well; I don't mean that she's downright sick--it's low spirits more than anything. She gets tired and worried very quick, and easily disturbed, which didn't used to be the case. It may be the new wife, and all the nieces and other disagreeable things. She never complains, and n.o.body would know but what she was pleased to have her father married again; but she hasn't seemed happy all winter, and now it troubles me to see how she looks sometimes. She talks a sight about you, and felt dreadfully not to get any more letters. But to come to the princ.i.p.al thing, they are all going to Europe--Emily and all. I take it, it's the new wife's idea. Mr. Graham wanted me to go, but I would as soon be hung as venture on the sea again, and I told him so. So now he has written for you to go with Emily; and if you are not afraid of sea-sickness, I hope you won't refuse, for it would be dreadful for her to have a stranger, and you know she always needs somebody on account of her blindness. I do not think she has the least wish to go; but she would not ask to be left behind, for fear her father should think she did not like the new wife.

"As soon as they sail--the last of April--I shall come back to the house in D----, and see to things there while they are away. I write a postscript to you from Emily, and we shall be very impatient to hear your answer; and I hope you will not refuse to go with Emily.

"Yours very truly,

"SARAH H. ELLIS."

The postscript contained the following:--

"I need not tell my darling Gertrude how much I have missed her, and longed to have her with me again; how I have thought of her by night and day, and prayed G.o.d to strengthen and fit her for many trials and labours. The letter written soon after Mr. Cooper's death is the last that has reached me, and I do not know whether Mrs. Sullivan is still living. Write to me at once, my dear child, if you cannot come to us. Father will tell you of our plans, and ask you to accompany us to Europe. My heart will be light if I can take my dear Gerty with me; I trust to you, my love, to decide aright. You have heard of father's marriage. It is a great change for us all, but will, I trust, result in happiness. Mrs. Graham has two nieces, who are with us at the hotel. They are to be of our party to go abroad, and are, I understand, very beautiful girls, especially Bella Clinton, whom you saw in Boston some years ago. Mrs. Ellis is very tired of writing, and I must close with a.s.suring my dearest Gertrude of the devoted affection of

"EMILY GRAHAM."

It was with great curiosity that Gertrude unfolded Mr. Graham's epistle.

She thought it would be awkward for him to address her, and wondered much whether he would maintain his authoritative tone, or condescend to apologise. Had she known him better, she would have been a.s.sured that nothing would ever induce him to do the latter, for he was one of those persons who never believe themselves in the wrong.

"MISS GERTRUDE FLINT,--I am married, and intend to go abroad on the 28th of April. My daughter will accompany us, and as Mrs. Ellis dreads the sea, I propose that you join us in New York, and attend the party as a companion to Emily. I have not forgotten the ingrat.i.tude with which you once slighted a similar offer on my part, and nothing would compel me to give you another opportunity to manifest such a spirit, but a desire to promote the happiness of Emily, and a sincere wish to be of service to a young person who has been in my family so long that I feel a friendly interest in providing for her. By complying with our wishes, you will remove the recollection of your past behaviour; and, if you choose to return to us, I shall enable you to maintain the place and appearance of a lady. As we sail the last of the month, it is important you should write and name the day. I will meet you at the boat. Mrs. Ellis being anxious to return to Boston, I hope you will come as soon as possible. I enclose a sum of money to cover expenses. If you have contracted debts, let me know to what amount, and I will see that all is paid before you leave. Trusting you are now come to a sense of your duty, I subscribe myself your friend,

"J. H. GRAHAM."

Gertrude was sitting near a lamp, whose light fell directly upon her face, which, as she glanced over Mr. Graham's note, flushed crimson with wounded pride. Dr. Jeremy observed her colour change, and during the few minutes that Mr. and Miss Arnold stayed to hear the news, he gave an occasional glance of defiance at the letter, and as soon as they were gone, begged to be made acquainted with its contents.

"He writes," said Gertrude, "to invite me to accompany them to Europe."

"Indeed!" said Dr. Jeremy, with a low whistle; "and he thinks you'll be silly enough to pack up and start off at a minute's notice!"

"Why, Gerty," said Mrs. Jeremy, "you'll like to go, shan't you, dear? It will be delightful."

"Delightful--nonsense! Mrs. Jeremy," exclaimed the doctor; "what is there delightful, I want to know, in travelling about with an arrogant old tyrant, his blind daughter, upstart dashy wife, and her two fine-lady nieces? A pretty position Gertrude would be in--a slave to the whims of all that company."

"Why, Dr. Jeremy," interrupted his wife, "you forget Emily."