Fashion -- 19th century -- Periodicals; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Women's periodicals, American
"That's complimentary," said Miss Marshall. "You seem to have been in some
trouble. I am glad we came in time to relieve you from such suspicions."
Frederick could not echo her expressions of pleasure. A week or two in
jail, or even a temporary confinement in the landlord's cellar, would
have been a light trouble compared with the mortification of being seen
by Miss Marshall in such a position. He explained, with an attempt
at indifference, the circumstances which had conspired against him,
and Adelaide found them highly amusing. She laughed heartily over the
advertisement, dwelling with malicious pleasure over each unflattering
epithet. She listened to Asa Cutting's circumstantial account of the whole
affair with an interest that led him insensibly to make it as long as
possible; and, when he came to the landlord's suggestion of confining the
suspected man in the cellar, she seemed so very much amused that Frederick
could hardly endure it with becoming patience. Even after they were alone,
she recurred again and again to the same theme, and always contrived to
hit upon the very points that jarred most on Frederick's sensitive nature.
When her mother and sister arrived, Miss Marshall repeated the story to
them, dwelling and expatiating upon it until Frederick could no longer
conceal his annoyance.
He declined coldly the invitation urged upon him by the whole family to
join them in their tour--an invitation he would gladly have accepted a
few days before; and it was with real pleasure that he saw the cavalcade
set out the next morning to continue their journey, Miss Marshall looking
back, after she had said "Good-by," to "hope that Mr. James Wilson would
enjoy the solitary fishing excursions he seemed to like so well."
The long-looked-for letter came that day; some accident had delayed it
on the road. With the remittance it contained he paid his bill, and left
the village of Hillsdale with no very pleasant feelings. He was somewhat
puzzled what course to take. His liking for travelling on foot had not
stood the test of experience, and just then he would have directed his
course to any other part of the Union more willingly than to the White
Mountains. He wisely decided to return to New York, and, by taking the
speediest conveyances, he managed to reach his uncle's house just two
weeks after he had left it.
He was warmly welcomed by his aunt and cousins, and Bessie Graham's bright
face looked brighter as she greeted him.
"You have come just in time, Fred," said Emily; "we are going to Lake
George to-morrow. But how did you happen to get back so soon? I am afraid
your 'predestinarian tower,' as that old lady out West called it, has not
been so delightful as you expected."
Frederick acknowledged that it had not; and, after tea, he told the whole
story to an audience more sympathizing than the former one had been.
"I thought you had a very crestfallen look as you came in," said Emily.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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