Democratic Sentinel, Volume 1, Number 44, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 December 1877 — A HOLIDAY TRIP. [ARTICLE]

A HOLIDAY TRIP.

“I’ll have a nice Christmas, won’t I?” “Oh, I declare, it is too bad, uncle, rushing off to such a place, and, as usual, taking cold and lading himself up for an indefinite period,’ “ Suppose you go instead of me ?” “He would have me, of course! Well Pen, there’s one oonsolation—he will have to remember you in his will.” “He ought to, considering all the pleasure this deprives me of. I had three parties and two concerts on hand for this week, besides the matinee at Booth’s. You’ll have to accept Carrie’s invitation for the holidays. So farewell to our grand toilets on New Year’s day, and all the beaux, compliments, flowers, and so forth. What would you take ?” “Just your traveling-dress and the camel’s-hair suit. Perhaps you’ll want a block silk—there may bo a church in the town.” “ Oh, it’s quite a place for manufacturing engines, and that fact has drawn a number of meohnnics there with their families. There must be votes to be had, or uncle wouldn’t spend bo much time there.” “ You’ll have to fill up your trunk with fancy work and new novels, and, if it comes to the worst, you can flirt with the doctor, or correspond with your relations.” “ l'hanks,” said Pen, laughing; “the former alternative for me,” The two sisters put on their bonnets and went for a farewell stroll down Broadway, Very fine-looking women were the Misses Irving, well dressed, well preserved, and well-enough educated. They had taste in dress, were witty enough not to say stupid or silly things, bright enough to keep informed on all points that interested general society, and old enough to thoroughly enjoy life in its every-day phases, and cease building air-castles of future bliss. Their having remained single surprised none of their old friends. Brought up in the midst of luxury, they required for husbands men of equal meaDß and similar tastes. Sentiment never outran common sense. Sometimes, when the Irvings were undor discussion, people would recall an old love affair of Pen’s when she first ap- { (eared in society. But the lover had acked in some way, old Mr. Irving had frowned on the attachment, and the young fellow h id gone away. There were people who credited Pen with the virtue of remaining true to her old love, but such a statement always brought forth laughter and sneers; perhaps, a recital of her many and deeperate after-flirtations. She certainly did not let concealment affect her cheeks. On the contrary, having few household cares, she devoted much time aud thought to personal ones, and, by guarding what nature hail given her, and dressing expensively as well as becomingly, still held the title of belle. A long suffering, ardent admirer went to the cars with her, checked her trunk, put her sachel in the rack, arranged her shawl, gave her the last novel, and washed her departure from the platfortn, Tne train being well under way, Pen straightened herself, pulled up her gloves—although not a wrinkle could be detected in them—reflected with inward satisfaction on the fit of her dress and the looping of her overskirt, and then took a survey of her companions. Every one Lad bundles, and all looked homeward-lound. Unused to winter traveling, Pen was surprised at the general shabbiness. She saw nothing interesting within or without, so she opened her book and read descriptions of French scenery till her head swam. Then shejeaued her head on her hand and thought of all the real enjoyment she was going to miss. All tins time a tall man, with a slouched hat concealing his forehead, a long duster on his figure, and dark whiskers and mustaches concealing his moutb, kept a pair of very bright eyes fixed on Pen. When tfiey neated a station he watched her motions, but it was dusk before Pen spoke to the conductor and had him show her how many times they would stop before reaching Port Jervis. So the lights burned dimly on, and people dozed and nodded in their seats, and Pen counted the stops, and at last took down her Bacliel and put her shawl over her arm. The man in the duster also picked up his valise; and when a . hoarse voice Bhouted “ Port Jervis ” in one word, letting in with it a freezing current of air, and Pen rose half decided, he was near enough to her to be interrogated. “Is this Port Jervis ? ” She was too anxious to glance above the sleeve of the duster. “ Yes, madam.” “ Thank you.” The sleeve seemed to hold open the ear-door. Pen passed out; was assisted to the platform; and then, in the dusk, a man appr /ached and asked: “ Is this Miss Irving?” Pen bowed, *' Irving sent me to meet you. The hotel is across the street. May I take your things ?” As Pen followed the hotel clerk the owner of the duster, who had heard the short monologue, started in an opposite direction. . found her uncle in the best room in the house. He was lying in an easy chair; his feet, resembling little pillows rested on a footstool; a shaded lamp, on a table near him, threw a strong light on a pile of Now York papers, and a tray of empty dishes indicated that the inner man had not been neglected. “ So, mv dear, I see you lost no time.” “No, indeed,” Pen said, as she lightly put her arm round his neck and kissed him. “Well, are you better to-night?” “Worse, I think. The best dootor here went off to attend the funeral of some fortv-tifth cousin and left a substitute that knows as much about medicine as a ditcher. How did you leave everybody?” •* Quito well. Sallie will spend the

vided for. What did you have.for flipper?” “ Nothing with any taste to it. I don’t donbt they send to New York, but the things are frozen on the way up.” “Well, frozen or not, I am hungry enough to enjoy anything.” “ Well, theyTl send up your dinner in a few minutes. Your room is just across the balL” “I’ll take off my hat, then, and be ready to eat my dinner when it comes. ” Pen and her dinner arrived simultaneously at the door of Mr. Irving’s room. “You need not stay,” she said to the waiter, and as he disappeared she drew the little table near the fireplace and sat down facing her uncle. “That’s really comfortable, and how well you look to-night!” Pen put her hand to her bright cheeks and laughed. % “The cold air has given me my old color. This isn’t such very bad soup. ” “Oh, you’re hungry.” “ Doctor Stuart,” said the clerk,opening the door for a tall man who stood behind him and took in the scene at a glance. Pen’s color deepened as she rose. Mr. Irving said, carelessly: “My niece, Doetor Stuart, Miss Irving. I am very f lad to see you. Eat your dinner, Pen. f the doctor io not in a hurry we oan ohat, or perhapß he will join you. Have you dined, doctor?” “Thanks, I’ve had a lunch.” “A railroad one, I suppose. Just ring that bell, Pen. By the way, is there room at that table ?” “ Ob, plenty, uncle,” and then, as the doctor looked meaningly at her, “ Uncle, Doctor Stuart and I are old friends. ” “ Indeed ! Well, then, you oan enjoy yourselves, as I suppose you have not met very lately.” “Not for fourteen years,” said the doctor. “ Almost to a day,” Pen said, her eyes flashing. Mr. Irving, stupid man, saw nothing, but, as soon as the two were seated, and another tray brought, turned to the financial columns of the newspaper. The embarrassment and hunger of the pair were mutual. The do«tor did not mention having been on the train with Pen, and she helped him and managed some table-talk with so much of her accustomed grace that her guest began to consider that the years had increased and matured Miss Irving’s charms. With all his knowledge of human nature he did not understand this woman. He glanced at her fingers. Two large diamonds, each a solitaire, sparkled on her left hand. He grew still more silent— Pen correspondingly brilliant. She told him how much she enjoyed hearing Titiens, and how delighted were Thomas’ concerts. Bhe described the latest velvet walking-dresses, referred to the fall races, and, after a moment’s silence, asked how he happened to be in Port Jervis. “I roside here, Miss Irving.” “Oh.” Then they finished their mince-pie,' and she asked him to ring the bell, and, after a little, Mr. Irving became conscious that his nieoe had left the room, and that the doctor was fctanding meditating with his back to the fire. Miss Irving, in her own room, raised the wick of her lamp, drew a chair to the table, and sat down to think. Undoubtedly the doctor was by this time married; he had, she thought, the look of a married man, with children to provide for. Of course it was all past now, yet she could not but live over some of the pleasant, happy moments she had spent in his society, when both were younger, gayer, more unselfish. “Here I am with no one in particular to love or to love me. Uncle thinks he is fond of me, but it is just because I amuse him when he can’t go out to amuse himself. Sallie will marry Mr. Harper, and then I’ll be all alone. I suppose father did right, but this life is not all roses.” After indulging in a little cry, Miss Irving recovered herself. She unpacked her trunk, pulled out her camel’s-hair and some cardinal bows, rearranged her pretty hair, and, looking the dashing belle she felt herself, went back to her uncle’s room. Mr. Irving was reading a prescription; the doctor was gone. “Is that the man you say knows as much of medicine as a butcher ?” “ Dear me, no; that’s the right man. He has ordered an entirely different course of treatment. He says he’ll have me out in three days. If so, we’ll be home before Christmas day, after all.” Pen did not echo his delight. She turned over the books and papers, took up one a week old, and went to her seat near the fire. “Quite a nice fellow, Stuart is. Where did you meet him so long ago ?” “He used to come to the house with Ed. Parker. Did he say anything?” “Oh, nothing. He knew brother John.” “Yes.” “ Did I ever see him ?” “I think not. He only came when the young folks had something going on. He was studying at the time.” “Poor, I suppose?” * ‘ Yes, that was his chief fault”—her voice shook. Mr. Irving put down the prescription and, steadying his glasses, looked at Pen. “ Was there anything between “Yes; he and I thought we loved each other. Father said it was nonsense, and so —” “ And so, here you are, Miss Penelope Irving, and the doctor, 111 warrant., still a bachelor. ” “ I’m sure he is married.” “He had a very old-bachelor look to me.” “ Well, uncle, there is no use fretting about it now.”

“ No, you like New York society life, and can marry any day. I’ll send for this stuff now, and there is an article, a good one, on the Tammany ring, that I wish you would read to me.” The immediate surroundings of the hotel were very disagreeable—tracks filled the road in front, and a narrow, dingy street bounded it on each side. Beyond in all directions stretched what was in summer a lovely landscape, with the mountains in the distance. Now snow lay on everything, and the dreariness was intense, and to Pen most dispiriting. When her uncle fell asleep, late in the afternoon of the following day, she put on her traveling-dress and started out with the determination to walk off the impending blues. She went up one street and down another, looking in the stores, and pitying the people who had to put up with such commodities. At length she came to a little church of an indescribable style of architecture. The gate and the door of the basement were open, and piles of cut evergreens within the inclosure suggested “dressing the church for Christmas. ” Pen went in and down the steps, and found herself in $ long, narrow room, the ceiling and walls of which were snugly boarded. A number of young people were making wreaths, and the spicy odors mingling with the warmth from a large heater gave Pen the first sensation of being at home that she had experienced since leaving New York. She sat down on one ot the long benches, put aside her muff, and silently enjoyed the familiar ideas suggested by the scene. Here and there a lamp was in requisition, and the corners of the large room were lost in shadows. A pretty young girl was filling in a cross shaped with laurel and holly. She ** SgS hair, fading her forehead with little fluffy curls, and her small hands, protected by fingerless gflpves, moved rapidly as she talked to fce*r bon.*

“Kate, he wants a crown made to match that and the star,” said one of the girls, stopping to admire the cross. “ I would not attempt it. I told him so! ” “If yon can’t make it, Kate, no one can.” “ Well have enough, anyhow. He is making all the sentences at home; he told ns so last night. He cats the letters out of green paper and pastes them on white muslin. All the fine wreaths for bordering have to be done yet, and I have work at home, presents that I must finish. So there is no nse promising the crown; I never tried one.” “ He will be disappointed, Kate.” “ Here he comes 1” cried another girl, glancing beyond the group. Pen turned to the door to see this very important and particular individual; but he came forward from one of the dark comers, and standing near Kate inspected her work, saying something in an undertone which made her color and look up, showing a pair of merry blue eyes. Pen’s heart contracted as she recognized Dr. Stuart. While she tried to be sensible, and feel indifferent, he chatted and laughed with the gay group, and at length, pleadiog a visit to make, left them. A minute after he had passed Pen, seen her, and turned back. “ So you found the church, Miss Irving ? I’m glad to see you. I saw your uncle this afternoon; he is really improving. How do you like our Sundayschool room ?” ‘ ‘ Very much. The signs of Christmas attracted me, so I came in.” “ Won’t you let me introduce you to some of the young people ?” “Is it worth while ? I was thinking of going to the hotel.” “ I’ll see you safe there. It won’t take a minute to introduce you, and then you can drop in when you like, and feel at home here. ” “Very well.” She rose and took his arm. The introduction over, Miss Irving had much to say about Christmas decorations generally, and those before her in particular. Meanwhile, she noted every girl in the group, and mentally weighed her. Nor were her new acquaintances at all behind in interest and ouriosity. They admired her from head to foot, and, as she disappeared with the doctor in the gray shadows near the door, they whispered, “How handsome 1” and, “Is not her hat lovely ?” “ You used to take a great deal of interest in church work,” said the doctor, when they were outside. “ I do still, at home.” “ I wish I could interest you in it here. ” “You have a good working corps.” “ Yes, but they are young, and require so much overlooking.” “ I hardly think a stranger would be pleasant to them. They might consider it an intrusion.” “ I had set my heart on having a few pieces. They declare it impossible to make them; you could.” “If it would really oblige you, Dr. Stuart. ” “I don’t wish to tax you, Miss Irving.” “I’ll come down to-morrow afternoon as soon ns uncle falls asleep, and you can leave directions what you want made.” “ Thank you.” The next afternoon Pen found the doctor on the hotel porch ready to escort her to the church. There she found a little table, twine, scissors, shapes, and basnets of fine greens, in waiting for her. While she took off her hat and drew on her gloves the doctor hung up his hat and overcoat. Then he sat on a stool beside her, and bunched while she arranged and tied. Then ho alluded to an evening fifteen years ago when, in the basement of an old city church, fie aud she had held the same relative positions. The voice more than the words touched Pen. She forgot to be cautious and cool. Memory began to work, and in a few minutes she and the doctor were exchanging the confidences of fourteen years. It grew dusk ; the children trooped in and gathered around the melodeon to practice their carols. The doctor’s voice sank in whispers, and at times ceased, the pauses being filled with words that he and Pen had often sung together in old days. Now they listened with softening hearts and glances that betrayed what was uppermost in each mind. “ Uncle will be awake and anxious.” “ Yes, we’ll go ; nothing here need be disturbed.” It was cold and slippery when they got in the street. Pen was unconscious of how eagerly she took the strong arm that was offered her. They walked some blocks in perfeot silence. “Do you really think we’ll be home for Christmas ?” “You speak as if you would rather not, and I have been doing my best to get you there. ” Pen sighed. “I suppose you’ll stay here torever.” “You are your own mistress now.” “Entirely so.” “ Then you can decide whether I shall stay here or go back to New York. My uncle, Dr. Stuart, died last week. I can have nearly all his practice if I like to take it. I know I am asking a great deal. Still lam not such a fool as to see my happiness within reach aud not try to grasp it. Your uncle tells me you have many admirers. Will you take time aud consider my claim on you ? At least I have loved the longest.” Pen laughed a merry, rippling laugh. “Won’t I hug uncle when I get home! Only for him I never would have known what a good, loviDg man you’ve been. They’ll tell you I’ve been m love half a dozen times since I saw you; but, if I ever fancied myself in love, I never really liked any one well enough to <rive up my reoolleotion of you for him. “ I think that ought to satisfy me.” Thus it happened that the dreaded Christmas was to be the nicest Pen had ever anticipated. Mr. Irving sent orders to have everything ready for many guests. Nephews and nieces had invitations to eat their Christmas dinner and dress the Christmas tree at his house. Dr. Stuart prepared to accompany his patient to New York, and Pen finished her pieces to the admiration and satisfaction of every one interested. On Christmas day she astonished her friends by appearing in church with her old lover on duty. Some shook their heads, and many indulged in unkind reminiscences; a few understood her, rejoiced with her, and at the church door wished “A merry Christmas” to her and Dr. Stuart.