[figure description] Page 326.[end figure description]

To most of our travelling public a little trip from Boston into
New York State seems an every-day affair, scarce worth calling
a journey; but to Dr. Jeremy it was a momentous event, calling
the good physician out of a routine of daily professional visits,
which, during a period of twenty years, had not been interrupted
by a week's absence from home, and plunging him at once into
that whirl of hurry, tumult and excitement, which exists on all
our great routes, especially in the summer season, the time when
the American populace takes its yearly pleasure excursion.

The doctor was by nature and habit a social being; never
shrinking from intercourse with his fellow-men, but rather seeking
and enjoying their companionship on all occasions. He knew
how to adapt himself to the taste of young and old, rich and
poor, and was well acquainted with city life in all its forms. In
the art of travelling, however,—an art to be acquired by practice
only,—he was totally unversed. He had yet to learn the adroit
use of those many springs, which, touched at the right moment,
and by a skilful hand, soften the obdurate hearts of
landlords, win the devoted attendance of waiters, inspire railroad
conductors and steamboat officials with a spirit of accommodation,
and convert the clamorous, noisy hackmen into quiet, obedient

[figure description] Page 327.[end figure description]

and humble servants at command. In Dr. Jeremy's travelling
days the stage-coach was the chief vehicle of convenience and
speed; the driver was a civil fellow, each passenger a person of
consequence, and each passenger's baggage a thing not to be
despised. Now, on the contrary, people moved in masses; a
single individual was a man of no influence, a mere unit in the
great whole, and his much-valued luggage that which seemed in
his eyes a mark for the heaviest knocks and bruises. Dr. Jeremy
was appalled at this new state of things, and quite unable to
reconcile to it either his taste or temper. To him the modern
landlord resembled the keeper of an intelligence-office, who condescendingly
glances at his books to see if he can furnish the
humble suppliant with a situation, and often turus him away
mortified and disappointed; the waiters, whom the honest and
unsophisticated doctor scorned to bribe, were an impudent, lazy
set of varlets; conductors and steamboat masters, lordly tyrants;
and the hackmen, a swarm of hungry, buzzing, stinging wasps,
let loose on wharves and in dépôts for the torment of their
victims.

Thus were these important members of society stigmatized, and
loudly were they railed at by our traveller, who invariably, at
the commencement and close of every trip, got wrought up to a
high pitch of excitement at the wrongs and indignities to which
he was subjected. It was astonishing, however, to see how
quickly he cooled down, and grew comfortable and contented,
when he was once established in car or steamboat, or had succeeded
in obtaining suitable quarters at a hotel. He would then
immediately subside into the obliging, friendly and sociable man
of the world; would make acquaintance with everybody about
him, and talk and behave with such careless unconcern, that one
would have supposed he considered himself fixed for life, and
was moreover perfectly satisfied with the fate that destiny had
assigned to him.

Thankful, therefore, were the ladies of his party when they
were safe on board the steamboat; a circumstance upon which
they were still congratulating themselves and each other, while
they piled up their heavy shawls and other extra garments in an

[figure description] Page 328.[end figure description]

out-of-the-way corner of the cabin, when the doctor's voice was
again heard calling to them from the other end of the long
saloon: “Come, come, wife,—Gertrude,—Emily! what are you
staying down in this stived-up place for? you'll lose the best
part of the view;” and, coming towards them, he took Gertrude's
arm, and would have hurried her away, leaving Mrs. Jeremy and
Emily to follow when they were ready; but Gertrude would not
trust Emily to ascend the cabin-stairs under any guardianship
but her own, and Mrs. Jeremy immediately engaged the doctor
in an animated discussion as to the advisability of his adopting a
straw hat, which the thoughtful wife had brought from home in
her hand, and which she was eager to see enjoyed. By the time
the question was settled, and Emily, at Gertrude's persuasion,
had been induced to exchange her thin mantilla for a light travelling-cloak,
which the latter was sure she would require, as there
was a fresh breeze stirring on the river, the boat had proceeded
some distance; and when our party finally gained the head
of the stairs, and looked about them for seats on deck, not a
single vacant bench or accommodation of any sort was to be
seen. There was an unusually large number of passengers,
nearly all of whom were collected at the stern of the boat. Dr.
Jeremy was obliged to leave his ladies, and go off in search of
chairs.

“Don't let us stay here!” whispered Mrs. Jeremy to Gertrude
and Emily. “Let's go right back, before the doctor comes!
There are beautiful great rocking-chairs down in the cabin, without
a soul to sit in them, and I'm sure we an't wanted here
to make up a company. I hate to stand with all these people
staring at us, and crowing to think they've got such nice places;
don't you, Emily?”

Mrs. Jeremy was one of the people who were constantly forgetting
that Emily could not see.

But Gertrude was not—she never forgot it; and, as she
stood with her arm lightly passed around her friend's waist, to
prevent the motion of the boat from throwing her off her balance,
it was no wonder they attracted attention; the one so bright,
erect, and strong with youth and health, that she seemed a fit

[figure description] Page 329.[end figure description]

protector for the other, who, in her sweet and gentle helplessness,
leaned upon her so trustingly.

“I think, when we get seated in the shade, we shall find
it cooler here than it is below,” said Emily, in reply to Mrs. Jeremy's
urgent proposition that they should make their escape in
the doctor's absence. “You always prefer the coolest place, I
believe.”

“So I do; but I noticed there was a good draught of air in the
ladies' saloon, and—” Here the good woman's argument was interrupted
by the cordial salutation of Dr. Gryseworth, who, previously
seated with his back towards them, had turned at the sound
of Emily's flute-like voice, which, once heard, invariably left an
impression upon the memory. When he had finished shaking
hands, he insisted upon giving up his seat to Mrs. Jeremy; and, at
the same instant, another gentleman, who, owing to the throng of
passengers, had hitherto been unnoticed by our party, rose, and
bowing politely, placed his own chair for the accommodation of
Emily, and then walked quickly away. It was the stranger whom
they had seen at breakfast. Gertrude recognized his keen, dark
eye, even before she perceived his singular hair; and, as she
thanked him, and placed Emily in the offered seat, she felt herself
color under his earnest glance. But Dr. Gryseworth immediately
claimed her attention for the introduction to his daughters,
and all thought of the retreating stranger was banished for the
present.

The Miss Gryseworths were intelligent-looking girls; the eldest,
lately returned from Europe, where she had been travelling with
her father, was considered a very elegant and superior person, and
Gertrude was charmed with the lady-like cordiality with which
they both made her acquaintance, and still more with the amiable
and sympathizing attentions which they paid to Emily.

By the time that Dr. Jeremy returned with the solitary chair
which he had been able to obtain, he found Gertrude and Dr.
Gryseworth comfortably accommodated, through the skilful agency
of the latter, and was thus enabled to sink at once into his seat,
and subside into that state of easy unconcern which admirably
became his pleasant, genial temperament.

[figure description] Page 330.[end figure description]

Long before the boat reached West Point, where the Jeremys
were to go on shore, it was plain to be seen that an excellent
understanding subsisted between Gertrude and the Miss Gryseworths,
and that time only was wanting to ripen their acquaintance
into friendship.

Gertrude was not one of those young persons who consider every
girl of their own age entitled to their immediate intimacy and confidence.
She had her decided preferences, and, though invariably
civil and obliging, was rarely disposed to admit new members into
her sacred circle of friends. She was quick, however, to recognize
a congenial spirit; and such an one, once found, was claimed
by her enthusiastic nature, and engrafted into her affections as
something of kindred birth. Nor was the readily adopted tie
easily loosened or broken. Whom Gertrude once loved, she loved
long and well; faithful was she in her efforts to serve, and prompt
in her sympathy to feel for those whose interest and happiness
friendship made dear to her as her own.

Perhaps Ellen Gryseworth divined this trait of her character,
and appreciated the value of so steady and truthful a regard; for
she certainly tried hard to win it; and her father, who had heard
Gertrude's history from Dr. Jeremy, smiled approvingly, as he
witnessed the pains which his high-bred and somewhat aristocratic
daughter was taking to render herself agreeable to one whose
social position had in it nothing to excite her ambition, and whose
person, mind and manners, constituted her sole recommendation.

They had been for about an hour engaged in the enjoyment of
each other's society, and in the view of some of the most charming
scenery in the world, when Netta Gryseworth touched her sister's
arm, and, glancing towards another part of the boat, said, in an
under tone, “Ellen, do invite Mr. Phillips to come back and be
introduced to Miss Flint!—see how lonesome the poor man
looks.”

Gertrude followed the direction of Netta's eye, and saw the
stranger of the morning at some distance from them, slowly
pacing up and down, with a serious and abstracted air.

“He has not been near us for an hour,” said Netta. “I am
afraid he has got the blues.”

[figure description] Page 331.[end figure description]

“I hope we have not frightened your friend away,” said
Gertrude.

“O, no, indeed!” replied Ellen. “Although Mr. Phillips is
but a recent acquaintance, we have found him so independent, and
sometimes so whimsical, that I am never astonished at his proceedings,
or mortified at being suddenly forsaken by him. There
are some people, you know, for whom it is always sufficient excuse
to say, It is their way. I wish he would condeseend to join us
again, however; I should like to introduce him to you, Miss
Flint.”

“You wouldn't like him,” said Netta.

“Now, that is not fair, Netta!” exclaimed her sister; “to try
and prejudice Miss Flint against my friend. You mustn't let her
influence you,” added she, addressing Gertrude. “She hasn't
known him half as long as I have; and I do not dislike him, by
any means. My little, straightforward sister never likes odd
people, and I must confess that Mr. Phillips is somewhat eccentric;
but he interests me all the more on that account, and I feel
positive he and you would have many ideas and sentiments in
common.”

“How can you say so, Ellen?” said Netta, “I think they are
totally different.”

“You must consider Netta's remark very complimentary, Miss
Flint,” said Ellen, good-naturedly; “it would not be quite so
much so, if it had come from me.”

“But you wished me to become acquainted with your oddity,”
remarked Gertrude, addressing herself to Netta. “I suspect you
act on the principle that one's misfortunes should be shared by
one's friends.”

Netta laughed. “Not exactly,” said she; “it was compassion
for him that moved me. I can't help pitying him when
he looks so homesick, and I thought your society would brighten
him up and do him good.”

“Ah, Netta! Netta!” cried her sister; “he has excited your
sympathy, I see. A few days more, and I shouldn't be surprised
if you went beyond me in your admiration of him. If so, take
care, you transparent creature, not to betray your inconsistency.”

[figure description] Page 332.[end figure description]

Then, turning to Gertrude, she said, “Netta met Mr. Phillips
yesterday for the first time, and has not seemed very favorably
impressed. Father and I were passengers in the same steamer in
which he came from Liverpool, a few weeks ago. He had an ill
turn in the early part of the voyage, and it was in a professional
way that father first made his acquaintance. I was surprised at
seeing him on board the boat to-day, for he mentioned no such
intention yesterday.”

Gertrude suspected that the agreeable young lady might herself
be the cause of his journey; but she did not say so,—her native
delicacy and the slight knowledge she had of the parties forbade
such an allusion,—and the conversation soon taking another turn,
Mr. Phillips was not again adverted to, though Gertrude observed,
just before the boat stopped at West Point, that Dr. Jeremy and
Dr. Gryseworth, having left their party, had joined him, and that
the trio were engaged in a colloquy which seemed to possess equal
interest to them all.

At West Point Gertrude parted from her new friends, who
expressed an earnest hope that they should again meet in Saratoga;
and before the bustle of going on shore had subsided, and she had
found on the narrow pier a safe place of refuge for Emily and herself,
the boat was far up the river, and the Miss Gryseworths
quite undistinguishable among the crowd that swarmed the deck.

Our travellers passed one night only at West Point. The
weather continued extremely hot, and Dr. Jeremy, perceiving that
Emily drooped under the oppressive atmosphere, was desirous to
reach the summit of Catskill Mountain before the Sabbath, which
was now near at hand.

One solitary moonlight evening, however, sufficed to give Gertrude
some idea of the beauties of the place. She had no opportunity
to observe it in detail; she saw it only as a whole; but, thus
presented to her vision in all the dreamy loveliness of a summer's
night, it left on her fresh and impressive mind a vague sentiment
of wonder and delight at the surpassing sweetness of what seemed
rather a glimpse of Paradise than an actual show of earth, so harmonious
was the scene, so calm, so still, so peaceful. “Emily,
darling,” said she, as they stood together in a rustic arbor,

[figure description] Page 333.[end figure description]

commanding the most striking prospect both of the river and the shore,
“it looks like you; you ought to live here, and be the priestess of
such a temple!” and, locking her hand in that of Emily, she
poured into her attentive ear the holy and elevated sentiments to
which the time and the place gave birth. To pour out her
thoughts to Emily was like whispering to her own heart, and the
response to those thoughts was as sure and certain.

So passed the evening away, and an early hour in the morning
found them again steaming up the river. Their first day's experience
having convinced them of the danger of delay, they lost no
time in securing places on deck, for the boat was as crowded as on
the previous morning; but the shores of West Point were hardly
passed from their view before Gertrude's watchful eye detected in
Emily's countenance the well-known signs of weariness and debility.
Sacrificing, without hesitation, the intense pleasure she was
herself deriving from the beautiful scenes through which the boat
was at the moment passing, she at once proposed that they should
seek the cabin, where Miss Graham might rest in greater stillness
and comfort.

Emily, however, would not listen to the proposal; would not
think of depriving Gertrude of the rare pleasure she knew she
must be experiencing.

“The prospect is all lost upon me now, Emily,” said Gertrude.
“I see only your tired face. Do go and lie down, if it be only to
please me; you hardly slept at all last night.”

“Are you talking of going below?” exclaimed Mrs. Jeremy.
“I, for one, shall be thankful to it's as comfortable again, and
we can see all we want to from the cabin-windows; can't we,
Emily?”

“Should you really prefer it?” inquired Emily.

“Indeed, I should!” said Mrs. Jeremy, with such emphasis
that her sincerity could not be doubted.

“Then, if you will promise to stay here, Gertrude,” said Emily,
“I will go with Mrs. Jeremy.”

Gertrude assented to the plan; but insisted upon first accompanying
them, to find a vacant berth for Emily, and see her under cir
cumstances which would promise repose.

[figure description] Page 334.[end figure description]

Dr. Jeremy having, in the mean time, gone to inquire about
dinner, they at once carried their plan into effect. Emily was
really too weak to endure the noise and confusion on deck, and,
after she had lain down in the quiet and nearly deserted saloon,
Gertrude stood smoothing back her hair, and watching her pale
countenance, until she was accused of violating the conditions
of their agreement, and was at last driven away by the lively and
good-natured doctor's lady, who declared herself perfectly well
able to take care of Emily.

“You'd better make haste back,” said she, “before you lose
your seat; and mind, Gerty, don't let the doctor come near us;
he'll be teasing us to go back again, and we've no idea of doing
any such thing.” Saying which, Mrs. Jeremy untied her bonnetstrings,
put her feet up in the opposite chair, clapped her hands at
Gertrude, and bade her be gone.

Gertrude ran off laughing, and a smile was still on her face
when she reached the staircase. As she came up with her usual
quick and light step, a tall figure moved aside to let her pass. It
was Mr. Phillips. He bowed, and Gertrude, returning the salutation,
passed on to the place she had left, wondering how he
came to be again their travelling companion. He could not have
been on board previously to her going below with Emily; she was
sure she should have seen him; she should have known him among
a thousand. He must have taken the boat at Newburgh; it stopped
there while she was in the cabin.

As these reflections passed through her mind, she resumed her
seat, which was placed at the very stern of the boat, and, with
her back to most of the company, gazed out upon the river. She
had sat thus for about five minutes, her thoughts divided between
the scenery and the interesting countenance of the stranger, when
a shadow passed before her, and, looking up, prepared to see and
address Dr. Jeremy, she betrayed a little confusion at again
encountering a pair of eyes whose earnest, magnetic gaze had the
power to disconcert and bewilder her. She was turning away,
somewhat abruptly, when the stranger spoke.

“Good-morning, young lady! our paths still lie in the same

[figure description] Page 335.[end figure description]

direction, I see. Will you honor me by making use of my guidebook?”

As he spoke, he offered her a little book containing a map of
the river, and the shores on either side. Gertrude took it, and
thanked him. As she unfolded the map, he stationed himself a
few steps distant, and leaned over the railing, in an apparently
absent state of mind; nor did he speak to her again for some minutes.
Then, suddenly turning towards her, he said, “You like
all this very much.”

“Very much,” said Gertrude.

“You have never seen anything so beautiful before in your
life.” He did not seem to question her; he spoke as if he knew.

“It is an old story to you, I suppose,” said Gertrude.

“What makes you think so?” asked he, smiling.

Gertrude was disconcerted by his look, and still more by his
smile; it changed his whole face so,—it made him look so handsome,
and yet so melancholy. She blushed, and could not
reply; he saved her the trouble.—“That is hardly a fair question,
is it? You probably think you have as much reason for your
opinion as I had for mine. You are wrong, however; I never was
here before; but I am too old a traveller to carry my enthusiasm
in my eyes—as you do,” added he, after a moment's pause,
during which he looked her full in the face. Then, seeming, for
the first time, to perceive the embarrassment which his scrutiny of
her features occasioned, he turned away, and a shadow passed
over his fine countenance, lending it for a moment an expression
of mingled bitterness and pathos, which served at once to disarm
Gertrude's confusion at his self-introduction and subsequent
remarks, and render her forgetful of everything but the strange
interest with which this singular man inspired her.

Presently, taking a vacant chair next hers, he directed her
attention to a beautiful country residence on their right, spoke of
its former owner, whom he had met in a foreign land, and related
some interesting anecdotes concerning an adventurous journey
which they had taken together. This again introduced other
topics, chiefly connected with wanderings in countries almost
unknown, even in this exploring age; and so rich and varied was

[figure description] Page 336.[end figure description]

the stranger's conversation, so graphic were his descriptions, so
exuberant and glowing his imagination, and so powerful his
command of words and his gift at expressing and giving force to
his thoughts, that his young and enthusiastic listener sat entranced
with admiration and delight.

Her highly-wrought and intellectual nature sympathized fully
with the fervor and poetry of a mind as sensitive as her own to
the great and wonderful, whether in nature or art; and, her fancy
and interest thus taken by storm, her calm and observant entertainer
had soon the satisfaction of perceiving that he had succeeded
in disarming her diffidence and embarrassment; for, as she
listened to his words, and even met the occasional glance of his
dark eyes, her animated and beaming countenance no longer
showed signs of fear or distrust.

He took no advantage, however, of the apparent self-forgetfulness
with which she enjoyed his society, but continued to enlarge
upon such subjects as naturally presented themselves, and was
careful not to disturb her equanimity by again bestowing upon
her the keen and scrutinizing gaze which had proved so disconcerting.
By the time, therefore, that Dr. Jeremy came in search
of his young charge, conversation between her and the stranger
had assumed so much ease and freedom from restraint that the
doctor opened his eyes in astonishment, shrugged his shoulders,
and exclaimed, “This is pretty well, I declare!”

Gertrude did not see the doctor approach, but looked up at the
sound of his voice. Conscious of the surprise it must be to him
to find her talking so familiarly with a complete stranger, she
colored slightly at his abrupt remark; but, observing that her
companion was quite unconcerned, and even received it with a
smile, she felt herself rather amused than embarrassed; for,
strangely enough, the latter feeling had almost entirely vanished,
and she had come to feel confidence in her fellow-traveller, who
rose, shook hands with Dr. Jeremy, to whom he had, the previous
day, been introduced, and said, with perfect composure, “Will
you have the kindness, sir, to present me to this young lady?
We have already had some conversation together, but do not yet
know by what name we may address each other.”

[figure description] Page 337.[end figure description]