Of course she was noticed, and commented upon, and admired on shipboard, and when it was known why she was going home alone, and why she was in such deep mourning, she had everybody’s sympathies, and was much sought after and petted. She was certainly a very fair picture to contemplate, and the male portion of her fellow travelers indulged in that pastime often, and anticipated her every movement, and vied with each other in taking her chair to the most sheltered and comfortable place, and adjusting her wraps, and drawing her shawl a little closer around her neck, and helping her below whenever she was at all dizzy, as she frequently was; and when at last the _Ville de Paris_ came into port, and she stood on shore, frightened, bewildered, and so much afraid of those _dreadful custom-house officers_, though she had nothing dutiable except a Madonna bought for _mamma_ before she knew she was dead, at least ten gentlemen stood by her, reassuring her and promising to see her through, and succeeding so well that not one of her four big trunks was molested, and the captain himself helped her into the carriage which was to take her to the Harlem depot. With all the gallantry of a Frenchman he saw her comfortably adjusted, and squeezing her hand a little, lifted his hat politely, and wishing her _bon voyage_, left her to drive away toward the new life which was to be so different from the old. CHAPTER XXIX. MRS. J. E. FORREST. Everard had been gone nearly two weeks instead of one, and Rosamond had not heard from him except through Mr. Russell, who told her that the business, which had reference to sundry infringements on patents and some missing deeds, was occupying him longer than he had supposed it would, as it required much research and a good deal of travel; “but he ought to be home now, very soon,” he said to her one rainy morning in November, when he came to see her on business and found her sick in her room with a sore throat and severe cold. Rossie had been very lonely with both Everard and Beatrice away,—for the latter had been in New York since September, and at last accounts was on her way to Florida with Mollie Morton, who wished to try the effect of a milder climate than Vermont, and as Mr. Morton could not leave his church in Boston, which had now become a permanency, Bee had consented to accompany her, so Rossie was alone, and in a measure defenseless, on the afternoon when Mrs. Markham announced that the hack which ran to and from the depot had turned into the avenue and was coming to the house, and that it contained two ladies and at least three trunks, if not four. “Ladies and trunks coming here?” Rossie exclaimed, starting up in bed and trying to listen to the voices, which were soon heard speaking together at the side door, where the hack had stopped.