stinctive reserve which was
one of her characteristics, never broached the subject to Gertrude, her
whole treatment of the latter sufficiently evinced that to her mind the
event of her future union with her son was a thing certain. The bold
declaration on Willie's part, conveyed in the letter received by
Gertrude soon after his mother's death, that his hopes, his prayers, his
labours were now all for her, was not a more convincing proof of the
tender light in which he regarded her than all their previous
intercourse had been. Should Gertrude, then, distrust him? Should she at
once set aside all past evidences of his worth, and give ready credence
to his prompt desertion of his early friend? No! she resolved to banish
the unworthy thought; to cherish still the firm belief that some
explanation would shortly offer itself which would yet satisfy her
aching heart.

Gertrude continued during the remainder of the evening in an elevated
frame of mind, and she was able to go back to the drawing-room for
Emily, say good night to her friends with a cheerful voice, and before
midnight she sought her pillow and went quietly to sleep. But this
calmness of mind, however, was the result of strong excitement, and
therefore could not last. The next morning she yielded to depressed
spirits, and the effort which she made to rise, dress, and go to
breakfast was almost mechanical. She excused herself from her customary
walk with the doctor, for to that she felt unequal. Her first wish was
to leave Saratoga; she longed to go home, to be in a quiet place, where
so many eyes would not be upon her; and when the doctor came in with the
letters which had arrived by the early mail, she looked at them so
eagerly that he observed it, and said, smilingly, "None for you, Gerty;
but one for Emily, which is the next best thing, I suppose."

To Gertrude this was the _very_ best thing, for it was a long-expected
letter from Mr. Graham, who had arrived at New York, and desired them to
join him there the following day. Gertrude could hardly conceal her
satisfaction, and Emily, delighted at the prospect of so soon meeting
her father, was eager to prepare for leaving.

They retired to their own room, and Gertrude's time until dinner was
occupied in packing. During the whole of the previous day she had been
anxiously hoping that Willie would make his appearance at their hotel;
now she dreaded such an event. To meet him in so public a manner, too,
as must he