"That is Mrs. Taylor's child, is it not?" observed Mr. Ellsworth, looking at the little girl. "She is very like Mrs. St. Leger."
"Do you really think so?--we fancy her like her mother," said Elinor.
"How is Tallman Taylor now?--he was not well when they passed through Philadelphia."
"He looks badly still," said Miss Agnes. "He is very imprudent, and distresses Jane very much by his carelessness."
"Gentlemen never seem to do what is right when invalids," observed Mary Van Alstyne, smiling. "They are either very reckless, and indifferent to their health, or else over-careful."
"What do you say, Mr. Ellsworth; is that account true?" asked Miss Wyllys.
"I dare say it is--I have no doubt we are very troublesome to our nurses. But, fortunately, women are endowed with a double stock of patience, to make up for our deficiencies. Is Mr. Taylor on board?--I have not seen him."
"No; he remained in town to attend to some business," replied Miss Wyllys. "We have charge of Mrs. Taylor, however, who was very anxious to get into the country, on account of her youngest child."
"I see, Mr. Ellsworth, that old Ironsides has arrived at Norfolk, bringing Mr. Henley from Rio," observed Mr. Wyllys.
{"Old Ironsides" = the United States Frigate "Constitution"; in the early 1800s, U.S. naval ships frequently carried diplomats to and from their stations}
"Certainly; she arrived on Tuesday."
"I saw it in the Globe, last night, grandpapa, Mr. Henley had arrived at Washington. Harry is with him, of course," said Elinor, in a quiet, natural tone.
"I supposed you knew of their arrival," observed Mr. Ellsworth.
"I have a letter from Hazlehurst in my pocket. He seems to have had quite enough of Rio."
"Mr. Henley, I understand, is talked of as minister to Russia," said Mr. Wyllys.
"Yes; I believe that affair is settled."
"Does Hazlehurst mention whether he is going with Mr. Henley?"
"That may be a state secret," said Elinor, smiling.
"He has had an offer of the situation, I believe--but does not seem to have made up his mind; he is coming home to look about him, he says, having three months' vacation at any rate."
The shrill tone of Miss Emma Taylor's voice was at this moment heard so distinctly, from the other side of the boat that Mr. Wyllys looked up from his paper, and Mr. Ellsworth smiled. It was very evident the young lady had inherited the peculiar tone of voice, and all the cast-off animation of her elder sister.
"Miss Taylor seems to be in very good spirits," remarked Mr. Ellsworth.
"Yes; she always talks and laughs a great deal," replied Mary Van Alstyne.
"They are no longer your neighbours, I understand, sir."
"No; Mr. Taylor sold Colonnade Manor this spring; De Vaux has purchased it, and changed the name of the place. It is now to be called Broadlawn, which is certainly a great improvement."
"And where does Mr. Taylor's family pass the summer?"
"Why, Jane tells me he is building something he calls a cottage, at Rockaway, within a stone's throw of the principal hotel. They thought Longbridge too quiet."
Mrs. Taylor's little girl had, by this, time, become very sleepy, and a little fretful; and Miss Agnes advised her being carried to her mother. Elinor led her away, rather, it is believed, to Mr. Ellsworth's regret.
It was no easy task to make one's way among the nurses, and babies, and baskets, filling the ladies' cabin, which was more than usually crowded. But at length Elinor reached Jane and Adeline, who were sitting together.
A single glance was sufficient to show that a change had come over these two young women, since the giddy days of their girlhood. Jane was pale, but beautiful as ever; she was holding on her knees a sick child, about two months old, which apparently engrossed all her attention. What would be her system as a mother, might be foretold by the manner in which she pacified the little girl Elinor had brought with her.
"Give her some candy, Dinah," she said to the black nurse; whose broad, good-natured face was soon covered with shining marks of affection, from the hands of the pretty little charge.
Adeline was less changed in her appearance than her sister-in-law; that is to say, she was as pretty as ever, and neither thin nor pale. But there was something in her expression, and a great deal in her manner, that was no longer what it had been of old. That excessive animation which had distinguished her as a belle, had been allowed to die away; and the restless expression, produced by a perpetual labour to make conquests, which was, at one time, always to be traced upon her features, had now vanished entirely. In its place there was a touch of matronly care and affection, more natural, and far more pleasing.
She, too, was sitting by the side of her child, driving away the flies from the little thing, who was sleeping in a berth. Adeline Taylor had married well, in the best sense of the word. Not that she deserved much credit for doing so, since she had only accidentally, as it were, become attached to the young man who happened to be the most deserving among her suitors. Chance had had a great deal to with the match, as it has with many matches.
