Every thing that human energy could accomplish had been done to track
the murder to its origin; yet not one step had been gained since we
sat, that Wednesday afternoon, in the parlor, holding a council over
the handkerchief. Young and healthful as I was, I felt my spirits
breaking down under my constant, unavailing exertions. The time for my
examination came, which could not be unsuccessful, I had so long been
thoroughly prepared, but I had lost my keen interest in this era of my
life, while my ambition grew torpid. To excel in my profession had
become, for the time, quite the secondary object of my life; my brain
grew feverish with the harassment of restless projects--the recoil of
thwarted ideas. There was not one in the family group (always excepting
that unseen and cloistered sufferer) who betrayed the wear-and-tear of
our trouble so much as I. James remarked once that I was improved by
losing some of my boyish ruddiness--I was "toning down," he said. On
another occasion, with that Mephistophiles smile of his, he observed
that it must be that I was after the handsome rewards--the sum-total
would make a comfortable setting-out for a person just starting in the
world.
I do not think he wished to quarrel with me; he was always doubly
pleasant after any such waspish sting; he was naturally satirical, and
he could not always curb his inclination to be so at my expense.
In the mean time an impression grew upon me that he was watching
me--with what intent I had not yet decided.
In all this time I had not seen Eleanor. She had recovered from her
illness, so as to be about her room, but had not yet joined the family
at meals. I went frequently to the house; it had been a second home to
me ever since I left the haunts of my boyhood and the old red-brick
mansion, with the Grecian portico, whose massive pillars were almost
reflected in the waters of Seneca lake, so close to the shore did it
stand--and where my mother still resided, amidst the friends who had
known her in the days of her happiness--that is, of my father's life.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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