Love stories; New York (N.Y.) -- History -- 1775-1865 -- Fiction
It was nearly seven o'clock when the doctor came, and Cornelia was sure
her lover would not be much behind that hour; but tea time was ever a
good time to her father, he was always amiable and gracious with a cup
in his hand, and the hour after it when his pipe kept him company, was
his best hour. She told her heart that things had fallen out better
than if she had planned them so; and she was so thoughtful for the
weary man's comfort, so attentive and so amusing, that he found it easy
to respond to the happy atmosphere surrounding him. He had a score of
pleasant things to tell about the fashionable exodus to Philadelphia,
about the handsome dresses that had been shown him, and the funny
household dilemmas that had been told him. And he was much pleased
because Harry De Lancey had been a great part of the day with him, and
was very eloquent indeed about the young man's good sense and good
disposition, and the unnecessary, and almost cruel, confiscation of
property his family had suffered, for their Tory principles.
And in the midst of the De Lancey lamentation, seven o'clock struck and
Cornelia began to listen for the shutting of the garden gate, and the
sound of Hyde's step upon the flagged walk. It did not come as soon as
she hoped it would, and the minutes went slowly on until eight struck.
Then the doctor was glooming and nodding, and waking up and saying a
word or two, and relapsing again into semi-unconsciousness. She felt
that the favourable hour had passed, and now the minutes went far too
quickly. Why did he net come? With her work in her hand-making
laborious stitches by a drawn thread--she sat listening with all her
being. The street itself was strangely silent, no one passed, and the
fitful talk at the fireside seemed full of fatality; she could feel the
influence, though she did not inquire of her heart what it was, of what
it might signify.
Half-past eight! She looked up and caught her mother's eyes, and the
trouble and question in them, and the needle going through the fine
muslin, seemed to go through her heart. At nine the watching became
unbearable. She said softly "I must go to bed. I am tired;" but she put
away with her usual neatness her work, and her spools of thread, her
thimble and her scissors. Her movement in the room roused the doctor
thoroughly. He stood up, stretched his arms outward and upward, and
said "he believed he had been sleeping, and must ask their pardon for
his indifference." And then he walked to the window and looking out
added "It is a lovely night but the moon looks like storm. Oh!"--and he
turned quickly with the exclamation--"I forgot to tell you that I heard
a strange report to-day, nothing less than that General Hyde returned
on the Mary Pell this morning, bringing with him a child."
"A child!" said Mrs. Moran.
"A girl, then, a little mite of a creature. Mrs. Davy told me the
Captain carried her in his arms to the carriage which took them to Hyde
Manor."
"And how should Mrs. Davy know?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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