Volume Ii Part 50 (1/2)
Fleda replied, with a jump of her heart, that business affairs had obliged him to be away for a few days.
”And when does he expect to return?” said the doctor.
”I hope he will be home as soon as I am,” said Fleda.
”Then you do not expect to remain long in the city this time?”
”I shall not have much of a winter at home if I do,” said Fleda. ”We are almost at January.”
”Because,” said the doctor, ”in that case I should have no higher gratification than in attending upon your motions. I ?
a ? beg you to believe, my dear Miss Ringgan, that it would afford me the ? a ? most particular ? it would be most particularly grateful to me to wait upon you to ? a ? the confines of the world.”
Fleda hastened to a.s.sure her officious friend that the time of her return was altogether uncertain, resolving rather to abide a guest with Mrs. Pritchard than to have Dr. Quackenboss hanging upon her motions every day of her being there. But, in the meantime, the doctor got upon Captain Rossitur's subject, then came to Mr. Thorn, and then wanted to know the exact nature of Mr. Rossitur's business affairs in Michigan, through all which matters poor Fleda had to run the gauntlet of questions, interspersed with gracious speeches which she could bear even less well. She was extremely glad to reach the cars, and take refuge in seeming sleep from the mongrel attentions, which, if for the most part prompted by admiration, owned so large a share of curiosity. Her weary head and heart would fain have courted the reality of sleep, as a refuge from more painful thoughts, and a feeling of exhaustion that could scarcely support itself; but the restless roar and jumble of the rail-cars put it beyond her power. How long the hours were ? how hard to wear out, with no possibility of a change of position that would give rest! Fleda would not even raise her head when they stopped, for fear of being talked to; how trying that endless noise to her racked nerves! It came to an end at last, though Fleda would not move for fear they might be only taking in wood and water.
”Miss Ringgan!” said the doctor in her ear, ”my dear Miss Ringgan, we are here” ?
”Are we?” said Fleda, looking up; ”what other name has the place, doctor?”
”Why, Bridgeport,” said the doctor; ”we're at Bridgeport. Now we have leave to exchange conveyances. A man feels constrained after a prolonged length of time in a place. How have you enjoyed the ride?”
”Not very well ? it has seemed long. I am glad we are at the end of it.”
But as she rose and threw back her veil, the doctor looked startled.
”My dear Miss Ringgan, are you faint?”
”No, Sir.”
”You are not well, indeed! ? I am very sorry ? the ride has been ? Take my arm! ? Ma'am,” said the doctor, touching a black satin cloak which filled the pa.s.sage-way, ”will you have the goodness to give this lady a pa.s.sport?”
But the black satin cloak preferred a straightforward manner of doing this, so their egress was somewhat delayed. Happily faintness was not the matter.
”My dear Miss Ringgan,” said the doctor, as they reached the ground and the outer air, ”what was it? ? the stove too powerful? You are looking ? you are of a dreadfully delicate appearance!”
”I had a headache yesterday,” said Fleda; ”it always leaves me with a disagreeable reminder the next day. I am not ill.”
But he looked frightened, and hurried her, as fast as he dared, to the steamboat; and there proposed half a dozen restoratives, the simplest of which Fleda took, and then sought delicious rest from him and from herself on the cus.h.i.+ons of a settee. Delicious! ? though she was alone, in the cabin of a steamboat, with strange forms and noisy tongues around her, the closed eyelids shut it out all; and she had time but for one resting thought of ”patient continuance in well-doing,” and one happy heart-look up to Him who has said that he cares for his children, a look that laid her anxieties down there ? when past misery and future difficulty faded away before a sleep that lasted till the vessel reached her moorings and was made fast.
She was too weary and faint even to think during the long drive up to Bleecker Street. She was fain to let it all go ?
the work she had to do, and the way she must set about it, and rest in the a.s.surance that nothing could be done that night.
She did not so much as hear Dr. Quackenboss's observations, though she answered a few of them, till, at the door, she was conscious of his promising to see her to-morrow, and of her instant conclusion to take measures to see n.o.body.
How strange everything seemed! She walked through the familiar hall, feeling as if her acquaintance with every old thing was broken. There was no light in the back parlour, but a comfortable fire.
”Is my ? is Dr. Gregory at home?” she asked of the girl who had let her in.
”No, Ma'am; he hasn't got back from Philadelphia.”