"I have banished Mr. La Vigne, I fear," I said, in a broken voice; "it
would have been best for me, perhaps, to have gone with the young
ladies. Let me begin at once."
"No, it is much best as it is," she answered, affectionately; "think of
yourself just now, and take no charge until we all get home. You are
our guest until then, remember. I know it is a sad trial to go with
strangers, but you will find us friends, I hope;" and she clasped my
hand in hers, and so held it until we reached the wharf.
Tears rained down my face, beneath the friendly shelter of my veil, but
Madame La Vigne, with the tact of good-breeding, affected not to remark
them. Once little Louey, a child of eight years old, the youngest and
prettiest of all, leaned forward, as if to soothe or question me, but
she was plucked quickly back into her place by the decorous Aunt
Felicite, who had not lived so long with quality without acquiring some
delicacy of behavior, at least, even if it struck no deeper root.
I had commanded myself, before the carriage stopped beside the panting
steamboat, and soon we were gliding along the placid river toward the
point whence the railroad was to carry us on to our goal. At New York,
we found ourselves hurried for time to reach the packet Magnolia, and
went directly from the depot to the quay, for embarkation.
Pages:
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269