"I reached New York three days ago. But my strength continues to fail and my funds to waste. I have no power to work, even if I could procure anything to do. And I have not money enough to support me a month longer.
"I do not like to go into an alms-house. Yet what am I to do?
"But why do I write to you? you may naturally inquire.
"Why? Because, although a perfect stranger, you are, after all, my niece, my only sister"s only child, my own only blood relation. And "blood is thicker than water."
""I can not work; to beg I am ashamed."
"I do not, therefore, beg, even of you. I do not so much as make any suggestion to you. I tell you the facts of the case, and I leave you to act upon them, or to ignore them entirely, at your pleasure.
"I do not even know whether I may venture to sign myself your aunt, KATHERINE FANNING."
Emma Cavendish read this letter through to the end; then she glanced at her companions, who were still all absorbed in the perusal of their journals.
Even Mrs. Grey was now lost in a magazine; but it was _Les Modes de Paris_, and contained plates and descriptions of all the new spring fashions.
So Miss Cavendish, seeing her friends all agreeably occupied and amused, returned to her singular letter and recommenced and read it carefully through to the end once more.
At the conclusion of the second reading she looked up and spoke to the Rev. Dr. Jones, saying:
"Are you reading anything very interesting in that _Quarterly Review_, my dear uncle?"
"Well, yes, my child--an article ent.i.tled "Have Animals Reason?""
"Reason for _what_?" navely inquired Mary Grey, looking up from her magazine of fashion.
Every one smiled except Dr. Jones, who condescended to explain that the subject under discussion was whether animals were gifted with reasoning faculties.
"Oh!" said Mrs. Grey, and returned to her _Modes_.
"You needn"t read any more on that subject, grandpa; I can answer that question for you, or any other inquirer. All intelligent animals, whether they go upon two feet or four, or upon wings or fins, have reason just in proportion to their intelligence. And all idiotic animals, whether they go upon two feet or four, or wings or fins, lack reason just in proportion to their idiocy. Lor"! why I have seen human creatures at the Idiot Asylum with less intellect than cats. And I have seen some horses with more intelligence than some legislators. You can"t generalize on these subjects, grandpa," said Miss Electra, with an air of conviction.
The Rev. Dr. Jones stared, much as a hen might stare to see her own ducklings take to the water. And then he turned to Emma Cavendish and said:
"Whether animals have reason or not, my dear, _you_ had some reason for interrupting me. Now what was it?"
"To ask you to read this, sir," said Miss Cavendish, putting her letter in the hands of her uncle.
He took it and read it slowly through, muttering from time to time:
"Dear, dear, how distressing! Bless my soul alive! Well, well, well!"
And he glanced uneasily at Mary Grey, who fidgeted and flushed under his observation.
At length he finished and folded the letter and returned it to Miss Cavendish, with the inquiry:
"Well, my dear, what are you going to do in the premises?"
"I shall write immediately and ask my aunt to come here and make this her home," answered Emma, promptly.
At these words Mary Grey started, caught her breath with a gasp, and quickly whirled her chair around so as to bring her back to the light and throw her face in deep shadow.
"What"s the matter with you?" inquired Electra.
"The light makes my eyes ache; that is all. You know I have not quite got rid of my cold yet," answered the widow in a low, faltering tone that might have attracted the attention of Miss Cavendish had not that young lady"s thoughts been engaged with the subject of her letter.
"You will consult your grandmother before making this important addition to the household, I presume?" inquired the old gentleman.
"Yes, of course; but I am certain beforehand of my dear grandma"s consent and co-operation in such an evident Christian duty," answered Miss Cavendish.
And then she turned to her young friends, to whom she thought some explanation was due, and she added:
"I have news in this letter that has much surprised and pained me. It is from my aunt, Mrs. Fanning. She has lost her husband, and has suffered very severe reverses of fortune. She is at this time alone in New York City, and in failing health. I shall write for her to come and live with us. And not to leave her a day in suspense, I shall telegraph from Wendover to-morrow morning."
"I"m glad she"s coming. The more the merrier," said Electra, gayly.
Mrs. Grey said nothing. She arose as if to leave the room, tottered forward and fell to the floor in a dead swoon.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE SIREN AND THE SAGE.
All started to their feet and rushed to the prostrate woman"s a.s.sistance.
She was but a slight creature, and Dr. Jones lifted her easily and laid her on one of the sofas.
Electra flew upstairs to bring down a bottle of Florida water.
Emma patted and rubbed her hands.
Dr. Jones bathed her brow with cold water, sighing and muttering to himself:
"Poor girl! Poor unfortunate girl!"
"I take blame to myself," said Emma. "She is evidently much iller than I thought. I ought not to have persuaded her to leave her room so soon after her cold. It is my fault."
At that instant Electra ran in with the Florida water and dashed a liberal portion of it over the head and face of the fainting woman.
The shock and the penetrating odor combined to rouse her from insensibility; and with a few gasps she recovered her consciousness; though her face, after one sudden flush, settled into a deadly paleness.
"My poor dear, how are you?" inquired Emma Cavendish, kindly.