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“Morrisville, June 13th.

I WAS too tired last night to open my trunk,
and so have a double duty to perform, that
of recording the events of the last two days.
Can it be that it is not yet forty-eight hours since I left
Beechwood and all its cares, which, now that I am away
from them, do seem burdensome? What a delicious
feeling there is in being referred to and waited upon as if
you were of consequence, and how I enjoy knowing that
for a time at least I can rest; and I begin to think I need
it, for how else can I account for the languid, weary sensation
which prompts me to sit so still in the great, soft,
motherly chair which Mattie has assigned me, and which
stands right in the cosey bay-window, where I can look
out upon the beautiful scenery of Morrisville?

“It is very pleasant here, and so quiet that it almost
seems as if the town had gone to sleep and knew nothing
of the great, roaring, whirling world without. Not even
a car-whistle to break the silence for the nearest station
where I stopped, after my uneventful ride, is eight miles

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from here. There was Mattie herself waiting for me on
the platform, her face as sunny as ever, and her greeting
as cordial. Her husband, Mr. Randall, is a tall, wellformed
man, with broad shoulders, which look a little
like West Point discipline. It was very silly in one to
contrast him at once with Dr. West, but I did, and Dr.
West gained by the comparison, for there is an expression
in his face which I seldom see in others, certainly
not in Mr. Randall. He looks, as I suspect he is, proud,—
and yet he is very kind to me, treating me with as much
deference as if I were the Queen of England. They had
come in their carriage, and the drive over the green hills
and through the pleasant valleys was delightful. I could
do nothing but admire, and still I wondered that one as
fond of society as Mattie should have settled so far from
the stirring world as Morrisville, and at last I asked why
she had done so.

“`It's all Will's doings,' she answered, laughingly.
`He is terribly exclusive, and fancied that in Morrisville
he should find ample scope for indulging his taste,—that
people would let him alone,—but they don't. Why, we
have only lived there three months, and I am sure half
the town know just how many pieces of silver I have,—
whether my dishes are stone or French china,—what hour
we breakfast,—when we go to bed,—when we get up, and
how many dresses I have. But I don't care, I rather
like it; and then, too, Morrisville is not a very small

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town. It has nearly three thousand inhabitants, and a
few as refined and cultivated people as any with whom I
ever met.'

“`Who are they?' I asked, and Mattie began:

“`There's the Verners, and Waldos, and Strikers, and
Rathbones in town, while in the country there's the
Kingslakes, and Croftons, and Bishops, and Warings,
making a very pleasant circle.'

“I don't know why I felt disappointed that she did
not mention Mrs. David West as among the upper ten,
but I did, and should have ventured to speak of that
lady if I had not been a little afraid of Mr. Randall,
who might think my associates too plebeian to suit
him.

“We were entering the town now, and as we drove
through what Mattie said was Grove Street, I forgot all
about Mrs. David West in my admiration of the prettiest
little white cottage I ever saw. I cannot describe it except
that it seemed all porticoes, bay-windows, and funny
little places shooting out just where you did not expect
them. One bay-window opened into the garden, which
was full of flowers, while right through the centre ran
a gurgling brook, which just at the entrance had been
coaxed into a tiny waterfall. I was in ecstasies, particularly
as on a grass-plat, under a great elm-tree, an oldish-looking
lady sat knitting and talking to a beautiful child
reclining in a curious-looking vehicle, half wagon, half

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chair. I never in my life saw anything so lovely as the
face of that child, seen only for a moment, with the setting
sunlight falling on its golden curls and giving it the look
of an angel. The lady interested me greatly in her dress
of black, with the widow's cap resting on her gray hair,
while her face was familiar as if I had seen it before.

“`Who are they?' I asked Mattie, but she did not
know.

“Neither did her husband, and both laughed at my
evident admiration.

“`We will walk by here some day, and maybe you can
make their acquaintance,' Mattie said, as she saw how I
leaned back for a last glance at the two figures beneath
the trees.

“`There is West Lawn!' Mattie cried at last, in her
enthusiastic way, pointing out a large stone building
which stood a little apart from the town.

“I knew before that `West Lawn' was the name of
Mr. Randall's home, and when I saw it I comprehended
at once why it was so called. It was partly because of
the long grassy lawn in front, and partly because it stood
to the westward of the village, upon a slight eminence
which overlooked the adjacent country. It is a delightful
place, and Mattie says they have made many improvements
since they bought it. But it must have been
pleasant before, for it shows marks of care and cultivation
given to it years ago. Like that cottage by the

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brook, it has bay-windows and additions, while I think I
never saw so many roses around one spot in my life.
There is a perfect wilderness of them, in every shade and
variety. These reminded me of Dr. West, who is so fond
of roses, and who said once that he would have his home
literally covered with them. `West Lawn' would suit
him at this season, I am sure. Here in Morrisville I find
myself thinking a great deal about Dr. West, and thinking
only good of him. I forget all I ever fancied about
his littleness, and remember instead how kind he is to
the Beechwood poor, who have named at least a dozen
children after him. Mrs. David West! I do not see as
I shall be able to meet her ladyship, as she evidently
does not belong to the Verner and Randall clique.

“But let me narrate events a little more in the order in
which they occurred, going back to last night, when we
had tea in what Mattie calls the `Rose Room,' because
the portico in front is enveloped with roses. Then came a
long talk, when Mr. Randall was gone for his evening
paper, and when Mattie, nestling up to me, with her head
in my lap, just as she used to do in school, told me what
a dear fellow her husband was, and how much she loved
him. Then some music, I playing my poor accompaniments
while Mattie sang her favorite Scotch ballads.
Then, at an early hour for me, I went to bed, for Mattie
does not like sitting up till midnight. I have a large,
airy chamber, which must have been fitted up for a young

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lady, there are so many closets, and shelves, and presses,
with a darling little bath and dressing-room opening out
of it. Mattie, who came in to see that I was comfortaable,
told me this was the only room in which the paper
had not been changed.

“`It's old-fashioned, as you see,' she said, `and must
have been on before the time of Mr. Wakely, of whom
we bought the house, but it is so pretty and clean that I
would not have it touched.'

“It is indeed pretty, its ground a pure white, sprinkled
here and there with small bouquets of violets. Just back
of the dressing-table and near the window are pencilmarks,
`Robert, Robert, Robert,' in a girlish hand, and
then a name which might have been `Annie,' though
neither of us could make it out distinctly. Evidently
this room belonged to a maiden of that name, and while
thinking about her and wondering who she was, I fell
asleep. I do not believe in haunted houses, nor witches,
nor ghosts, nor goblins, but last night I had the queerest
dreams, in which that woman and child beneath the trees
were strangely mingled with Dr. West and a young lady
who came to me with such a pale, sad face, that I woke
in a kind of nightmare, my first impression being that I
was occupying some other room than mine.

“This morning Mattie was present while I unpacked my
trunk, and coming upon that package, I said, as unconcernedly
as possible, `Oh, by the way, do you know such

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a person as Mrs. David West? I have a package for her,
entrusted to me by a—a friend in Beechwood.'

“`Mrs. David West?' and Mattie seemed to be thinking
as she examined the package, which felt like a small
square box. `Mrs. David West? No, I know no such
person; but then I've only lived here three months.
There's Bell Verner now coming in the gate. Maybe she
will know, though they have only been here since last
autumn. I'll ask her, and you be in readiness to come
down if she inquires for you, as she certainly will. You
look sweet in your white wrapper, with the blue ribbon
round your waist. I wish blue was becoming to me—
Yes, yes, Dinah, I'm coming,' and she fluttered down to
the hall, where I heard a sound of kissing, accompanied
with little cooing tones of endearment, such as Mattie
has always been famous for; then a whisper, and then I
shut the door, for I was sure they were talking of me.
As a general thing I dread to meet grand people, I had
enough of them at Newport: and so I hated to meet Miss
Bell Verner; and after I was sent for I waited a little,
half wishing myself away from Morrisville.

“I found her a stylish, cold-looking girl, who, after taking
me in, at a glance, from my head to my slippers, said
rather abruptly:

“`Excuse me, Miss Freeman, but weren't you at Newport
last summer?'

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“`Yes,' I answered, now scanning her, to discover, if
possible, some trace of a person seen before.

“`I thought so,' she continued. `We were at the Atlantic.
We could not get in at the Ocean House, it was
so full. Pardon me, but I am afraid I felt slightly ill-natured
at your party—the Russells, I believe—because
they took so many rooms as to shut us out entirely. If I
remember rightly, there were nine of you, together with
three servants, and you stayed two months. I used to
see you on the beach, and thought your bathing-dress so
pretty. We were a little jealous, too, at our house of
Miss Freeman, who was styled the belle.”

“`Oh, no,' I exclaimed, feeling very much embarrassed,
`I couldn't be a belle. I did not go much in society. I
stayed with Margaret who was sick, or helped take care
of the children.'

“`Oh, yes,' she rejoined, `I heard of the invalid Mrs.
Russell, who exacted so much of her sweet-tempered sister.
The gentlemen were very indignant. By the way,
how is Mrs. Russell?'

“I did not like the way she spoke of Margaret, and with
as much dignity as possible I replied that Mrs. Russell
was still out of health, and I feared would always remain
so. Somehow I fancied that the fact of there having been
nine of us, with three servants, and that we stayed at the
Ocean House two months did more towards giving Miss
Verner a high opinion of me than all Mattie must have

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said in my praise, for she became very gracious, so that I
really liked her, and wished I had as fine and polished an
air as she carried with her. When we had talked of the
Strykers, and Waldos, and Rathbones, Mattie suddenly
asked if Bell knew a Mrs. David West in town.

“`Mrs. David West? Mrs. David West?' It did seem
as if Miss Verner had heard the name, and that it belonged
to a widow living on the Ferrytown road. `But
why do you ask?' she said. `It can't be any one desirable
to know.'

“Mattie explained why, and Miss Verner good-naturedly
offered to inquire, but Mattie said no, their man Peter
would ascertain and take the package. So after Miss
Verner was gone, and Peter came round to prune a rosebush,
Mattie put him the same question:

“`Did he know Mrs. David West?'

“`Yes, he knew where she lived; she had that handsome
grandchild.'

“Of course Mattie deputed him at once to do my errand,
and I consented, though I wished so much to go myself.
Running up-stairs I wrote on a card:

“`Dr. West, of Beechwood, commissioned me to be the
bearer of this little package, which I should have brought
to you myself had Mrs. Randall known where to find
you.

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“I did not see Peter again until long after dinner, and
then I asked if he had done my errand.

“`Yes, miss,' he replied. `She was much obliged.
She's a nice woman.'

“`Peter, don't those verbenas need sheltering from the
hot sun?' Mr. Randall called out, his manner indicating
that by volunteering information respecting Mrs.
David West, Peter was getting too familiar.

“Mr. Randall is very proud, and so is Mattie, but in a
different way. If she knew how much I wish to see
Mrs. West, or at least learn something of her, she would
never rest until the wish was gratified. We took a walk
after tea to the village cemetery, of which the people are
justly proud, for it is a most beautiful spot, divesting the
dark, still grave of half its terrors. There are some
splendid monuments there, one costing I dare not tell
how much. It was reared to the memory of General
Morris, for whom the town was named, but this did not
impress me one half so much as a solitary grave standing
apart from all the others and enclosed by a slender iron
fence. The grass in the little yard was fresh and green,
and there were many roses growing there. The stone was
a plain slab of Italian marble, with only these words upon
it:

“`Anna, aged 20.'

“Even Mattie was interested, and we leaned a long time
on the gate, speculating upon the Anna sleeping at our

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feet. Who was she, and whose the hand of love which
had been so often busy there? She was young, only
twenty when she died. Had many years been joined to
the past since she was laid to rest? Was she beautiful,
and good, and pure? Yes, she was all that, I fancied,
and I even dared to pluck a rose-bud whose parent stalk
had taken root near the foot of the grave. I can see it
now in the glass of water where I put it after returning
home. That rose and that grave have interested me
strangely, painfully I may say, as if the Anna whom they
represented were destined to cross my path, if ever the
dead can rise up a barrier between the living.

“June 15th.

“A steady summer rain has kept us in-doors all day, but
I have enjoyed the quiet so much. It seems as if I never
should get rested, and I am surprised to find how tired I
am, and how selfish I am growing. I was wicked enough
to be sorry when in the afternoon Bell Verner came,
bringing her crocheting and settling herself for a visit.
She is very sociable, and asks numberless questions about
Beechwood and its inhabitants. I wonder why I told her
of everybody but Dr. West, for I did, but of him I could
not talk, and did not.

“Saturday, June 16th.

“A long letter from Johnnie, and so like him, that I
cannot find it in my heart to scold him on paper for his

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dreadful language. I will talk to him on my return, and
tell him he must be more choice of words and must make
an effort to learn to spell, though I believe it is natural
to the Russells to spell badly. I can see just how they
miss me at home, and I cried over the letter till I was almost
sick. I am sure they want me there, and I wonder
what they would say if they knew how the Randalls, and
Verners, and Strykers are plotting to keep me here until
September, Mattie and Bell saying they will then go
with me to Beechwood. Just think of those two fine
ladies at our house. To be sure, it is quite as expensively
furnished as either Mattie's or Bell Verner's, and we
keep as many servants; but the children, the confusion!
What would they do? No, I must not stay, though I should
enjoy it vastly. I like Bell Verner, as I know her better.
There is a depth of character about her for which I did
not at first give her credit. One trait, however, annoys
me excessively. She wants to get married, and makes
no secret of it either. She's old enough, too,—twenty-eight,
as she told me of her own accord, just as she is
given to telling everything about herself. Secretly, I
think she would suit Dr. West, only she might feel above
him, she is so exclusive. I wonder Margaret should tell
him that story about Lieutenant Reed, and I am glad
Johnnie set him right. I would not have Lieutenant Reed
for the diamonds of India, and yet he is a great, good-natured,
vain fellow, who is coming here by and by. I

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think I'll turn him over to Bell, though I can fancy how
her black eyes would flash upon him.

“I have had a note from Mrs. David West, inviting me
to come and see her, and this is the way it reads:

“`My Dear Miss Freeman:

“`I am much obliged for the trouble you took in bringing
me that package, and did I go out at all, except to
church, I would thank you in person. If you can, will
you come and see me before you return to Beechwood? I
should like to talk with you about the Doctor. Any one
interested in him has a sure claim upon my friendship.

“Nothing can be more ladylike than the handwriting,
and, indeed, the whole thing. Mrs. David West may be
poor and unknown, but she is every whit as refined and
cultivated as either Mattie or Bell. I shall see her, too,
before I leave Morrisville; but why does she take it for
granted that I am interested in Dr. West? I am not, except
as a good physician; and what is she to him? Here
I am puzzling my brain and wasting the gas, when I
ought to be in bed; so with one look at that rose, which I
have been foolish enough to press,—the rose from Anna's
grave,—I'll bid the world good-night.”

p605-049

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