In the evening we boarded our boat for the West, and began our journey
in earnest. I shall never forget this trip, and I cannot but wonder
why. I was alone, for the most part, with my thoughts, which were far
from being cheerful companions; still, whenever I steal into the
adytum of my memory I find it there to greet me with its peculiar
associations.
The evening being warm and sultry we remained on deck for many hours
after supper. There was no moon, but heaven's vault was alive with
twinkling stars. I sat a little apart from my friends, leaning over
the railing, looking abstractedly into the dark restless water. I was
disturbed once by my considerate cavalier, who brought me a shawl,
saying the night air was likely to provoke rheumatism or neuralgia, or
such other inconveniences to which our flesh is heir.
I took it with a grateful smile, made a limited remark upon the beauty
of the panorama before us, enquired solicitously about the old lady's
comfort and spirits, and then considering my duty accomplished, I
wrapped myself warmly in the folds of my shawl and settled myself
cosily for another reverie.
With a wonderful acumen, the gaunt gentleman seized the insinuating
situation, and considering himself summarily dismissed, he edged away
by stealthy strides and left me to my cogitations once again.
Strangely enough, I began to think of Mr. Dalton, and my several
interviews with him. He had puzzled me, that was all, there was no
harm in wondering about him, surely, if I did not give too much time
and attention to the possibly dangerous subject.
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