Part 11 (1/2)

There was a trip to Edinburgh, a stormy pa.s.sage across the Straits of Dover, a two months' sojourn in Paris, and then they went to Rome, where Wilford intended to pa.s.s the winter, journeying in the spring through different parts of Europe. He was in no haste to return to America; he would rather stay where he could have Katy all to himself, away from her family and his own. But it was not so to be, and not very long after his arrival at Rome there came a letter from his mother apprising him of his father's dangerous illness, and asking him to come home at once. The elder Cameron had not been well since Wilford left the country, and the physician was fearful that the disease had a.s.sumed a consumptive form, Mrs. Cameron wrote, adding that her husband's only anxiety was to see his son again. To this there was no demur, and about the first of December, six months from the time he had sailed, Wilford arrived in Boston, having taken a steamer for that city. His first act was to telegraph for news of his father, receiving a reply that he was better; the alarming symptoms had disappeared, and there was now great hope of his recovery.

”We might have stayed longer in Europe,” Katy said, feeling a little chill of disappointment--not that her father-in-law was better, but at being called home for nothing, when her life abroad was so happy and free from care.

Somehow the atmosphere of America seemed different from what it used to be. It was colder, bluer, the little lady said, tapping her foot uneasily and looking from her windows at the Revere out upon the snowy streets, through which the wintry wind was blowing in heavy gales.

”Yes, it is a heap colder,” she sighed, as she returned to the large chair which Esther had drawn for her before the cheerful fire, charging her disquiet to the weather once, never dreaming of imputing it to her husband, who was far more its cause than was the December cold.

He, too, though glad of his father's improvement, was sorry to have been recalled for nothing to a country which brought his old life back again, with all its forms and ceremonies, reviving his dread lest Katy should not acquit herself as was becoming Mrs. Wilford Cameron. In his selfishness he had kept her almost wholly to himself, so that the polish she was to acquire from her travels abroad was not as perceptible as, now that he looked at her with his family's eyes, he could desire. Katy was Katy still, in spite of London, Paris, or Rome. To be sure there was about her a little more maturity and self-a.s.surance, but in all essential points she was the same; and Wilford winced as he thought how the free, impulsive manner which, among the Scottish hills, where there was no one to criticise, had been so charming to him, would shock his lady mother and Sister Juno. And this it was which made him moody and silent, replying hastily to Katy when she said to him: ”Please, Wilford, telegraph to Helen to be with mother at the West depot when we pa.s.s there to-morrow. The train stops five minutes, you know, and I want to see them so much. Will you, Wilford?”

She had come up to him now, and was standing behind him, with her hands upon his shoulder; so she did not see the expression of his face as he answered quickly;

”Yes, yes.”

A moment after he quitted the room, and it was then that Katy, standing before the window, charged the day with what was strictly Wilford's fault. Returning at last to her chair she went off into a reverie as to the new home to which she was going and the new friends she was to meet, wondering much what they would think of her, and wondering most if they would like her. Once she had said to Wilford:

”Which of your sisters shall I like best?”

And Wilford had answered her by asking:

”Which do you like best, books or going to parties in full dress?”

”Oh, parties and dress,” Katy had said, and Wilford had then rejoined:

”You will like Juno best, for she is all fas.h.i.+on and gayety, while Bluebell prefers her books and the quiet of her own room.”

Katy felt afraid of Bell, and in fact, now that they were so near, she felt afraid of them all, notwithstanding Esther's a.s.surances that they could not help loving her. During the six months they had been together Esther had learned to feel for her young lady that strong affection which sometimes exists between mistress and servant. Everything which she could do for her she did, smoothing as much as possible the meeting which she also dreaded, for though the Camerons were too proud to express before her their opinion of Wilford's choice, she had guessed it readily, and pitied the young wife brought up with ideas so different from those of her husband's family. More accustomed to Wilford's moods than Katy, she saw that something was the matter, and it prompted her to unusual attentions, stirring the fire into a still more cheerful blaze and bringing a stool for Katy, who in blissful ignorance of her husband's real feelings, sat waiting his return from the telegraph office, whither she supposed he had gone, and building pleasant pictures of to-morrow's meeting with her mother and Helen, and possibly Dr.

Morris, if not Uncle Ephraim himself.

The voyage home had been long and wearisome, and Katy, who had suffered from seasickness, was feeling jaded and tired, wis.h.i.+ng, as she told Esther, that instead of going to New York direct she could go straight to the farmhouse and ”rest on mother's bed,” that receptacle for all her childish ills.

”I mean to ask Wilford if I may,” she said to herself, and her cheeks grew brighter as she thought of really going home to mother and Helen and the kind old people who would pet and love her so much.

So absorbed was she in her reverie as not to hear Wilford's step as he came in, but when he stood behind her and took her head playfully between his hands, she started up, feeling that the weather had changed; it was not as cold and dreary in Boston as she imagined, neither did mother's bed seem as desirable a place to rest upon as the shoulder where she laid her head, playing with Wilford's b.u.t.tons, and saying to him at last:

”You went out to telegraph, didn't you?”

He had gone out with the intention of telegraphing as she desired, but in the hall below he had met with an old acquaintance who talked with him so long that he entirely forgot his errand until Katy recalled it to his mind, making him feel very uncomfortable as he frankly told her of his forgetfulness.

”It is too late now,” he added; ”besides you could only see them for a moment, just long enough to make you cry--a thing I do not greatly desire, inasmuch as I wish my wife to look her best when I present her to my family, and with red eyes she couldn't, you know.”

Katy knew it was settled, and choking back her tears she tried to listen, while Wilford, having fairly broken the ice with regard to his family, told her how anxious he was that she should make a good first impression upon his mother. Did Katy remember that Mrs. Morey whom they met at Paris, and could she not throw a little of her air into her manner--that is, could she not drop her girlishness when in the presence of others and be a little more dignified? When alone with him he liked to have her just what she was, a loving, affectionate little wife, but the world looked on such things differently. Would Katy try?

Wilford, when he commenced, had no definite idea as to what he should say, and without meaning it he made Katy moan piteously:

”I don't know what you mean. I would do anything if I knew how. Tell me, how shall I be dignified?”

She was crying so hard that Wilford, while mentally calling himself a fool and a brute, could only try to comfort her, telling her she need not be anything but what she was--that his mother and sisters would love her just as he did--and that daily a.s.sociation with them would teach her all that was necessary.

Katy's tears were stopped at last; but the frightened, anxious look did not leave her face, even though Wilford tried his best to divert her mind. A nervous terror of her new relations had gained possession of her heart, and nearly the entire night she lay awake, pondering in her mind what Wilford had said, and thinking how terrible it would be if he should be disappointed in her after all. The consequence of this was that a very white, tired face sat opposite Wilford next morning at the breakfast served in their private parlor; nor did it look much fresher even after they were in the cars and rolling out of Boston. But when Worcester was reached, and the old home waymarks began to grow familiar, the color came stealing back, until the cheeks burned with an unnatural red, and the blue eyes fairly danced as they rested on the hills of Silverton.

”Only three miles from mother and Helen! Oh, if I could go there!” Katy thought, working her fingers nervously; but the express train did not pause there, and it went so swiftly by the depot that Katy could hardly discover who was standing there, whether friend or stranger.