Half and hour later she was sitting at a western window.Young John Gray had gone to the library to write to his father and mother, announcing his arrival; and in her lap lay his father's letter which with tremulous fingers she was now wiping her spectacles to read.In all these years she had never allowed herself to think of her John Gray as having grown older; she saw him still young, as when he used to lean over the garden fence.But now the presence of this son had the effect of suddenly pushing the father far on into life; and her heart ached with this first realization that he too must have passed the climbing-point and have set his feet on the shaded downward slope that leads to the quiet valley.
His letter began lightly:
"I send John to you with the wish that you will be to the son the same inspiring soul you once were to the father.You will find him headstrong and with great notions of what he is to be in the world.But he is warm-hearted and clean-hearted.Let him do for you the things I used to do; let him hold the yarn on his arms for you to wind off, and read to you your favourite novels; he is a good reader for a young fellow.And will you get out your spinning-wheel some night when the logs are in roaring in the fireplace and let him hear its music? Will you some time with your hands make him a johnny-cake on a new ash shingle? I want him to know a woman who can do all things and still be a great lady.And lay upon him all the burdens that in any way you can, so that he shall not think too much of what he may some day do in life, but, of what he is actually doing.We get great reports of the Transylvania University, of the bar of Lexington, of the civilization that Iforesaw would spring up in Kentucky; and I send John to you with the wish that he hear lectures and afterward go into the office of some one whom Ishall name, and finally marry and settle there for life.You recall this as the wish of my own; through John shall be done what I could not do.You see how stubborn I am! I have given him the names of my school-children.He is to find out those of them who still live there, and to tell me of those who have passed away or been scattered.
"I do not know; but if at the end of life I should be left alone here, perhaps I shall make my way back to Kentucky to John, as the old tree falls beside the young one.">From this point the tone of the letter changed.
"And now I am going to open to you what no other eye has ever seen, must ever see--one page in the book of my life."When she reached these words with a contraction of the heart and a loud throbbing of the pulses in her ears, she got up and locked the letter in her bureau.Then, commanding herself, she went to the dining-room, and with her own hands prepared the supper table; got our her finest linen, glass, silver; had the sconces lighted, extra candelabra brought in; gave orders for especial dishes to be cooked; and when everything was served, seated her guest at the foot of the table and let him preside as though it were his old rightful place.Ah, how like his father he was! Several times when the father's name was mentioned, he quite choked up with tears.
At an early hour he sought rest from the fatigue of travel.She was left alone.The house was quiet.She summoned the negro girl who slept on the floor in her room and who was always with her of evenings:
"You can go to the cabin till bedtime.And when you come in, don't make any noise.And don't speak to me.I shall be asleep."Then seating herself beside the little candle stand which mercifully for her had had shed its light on so many books in the great lonely bedchamber, she re-read those last words:
"And now I am going to open to you what no other eye has ever seen, must ever see--one page in the book of my life:
"Can you remember the summer I left Kentucky? On reaching Philadelphia Icalled on a certain family consisting, as I afterwards ascertained, of father, mother, and daughter; and being in search of lodgings, I was asked to become a member of their household.This offer was embraced the more eagerly because I was sick for a home that summer and in need of some kind soul to lean on in my weakness.I had indeed been led for these reasons to seek their acquaintance--the father and mother having known my own parents even before I met them.You will thus understand how natural a haven with my loneliness and amid such memories this house became to me, and upon what grounds I stood in my association with its members from the beginning.
"When the lawsuit went against me and I was wrongfully thrown into jail for debt, their faithful interest only deepened.Very poor themselves, they would yet have make any sacrifice in my behalf.During the months of my imprisonment they were often with me, bringing every comfort and brightening the dulness of many an hour.
"Upon my release I returned gladly to their joyous household, welcomed Icould not say with what joyous affection.Soon afterwards I found a position in the office of a law firm and got my start in life.
"And now I cross the path of some things that cannot be written.But you who know what my life and character had been will nobly understand: remember your last words to me.
"One day I offered my hand to the daughter.I told her the whole truth: that there was some one else--not free; that no one could take the place of this other was filling at the moment, and would always fill.Nevertheless, if she would accept me on these conditions, everything that it was in my power to promise she could have.
"She said that in time she would win the rest.
