University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.
NEW RELATIONS.

About six weeks after the close of Mabel's school, we
were one day startled with the intelligence that she was
going to be married, and to Mr. Sherwood, too. He had
become tired of the fashionable ladies of his acquaintance,
and when he saw how pure and artless Mabel was, he immediately

became interested in her; and at last overcoming
all feelings of pride, he had offered her his hand, and
had been accepted. At first we could hardly credit the
story; but when Mrs. Hudson herself confirmed it, we
gave it up, and again I wondered if I should be invited.
All the nicest and best chestnuts which I could find, to
say nothing of the apples and butternuts, I carried to her,
not without my reward either, for when invitations came
to us, I was included with the rest. Our family were the
only invited guests, and I felt no fears, this time, of being
hidden by the crowd.

Just before the ceremony commenced, there was the
sound of a heavy footstep upon the outer porch, a loud
knock at the door, and then into the room came Mr. Gilbert!
He seemed slightly agitated, but not one-half so
much as Mrs. Hudson, who exclaimed, “William, my son,
why are you here?”

“I came to witness my sister's bridal,” was the
answer; and turning toward the clergyman, he said,
somewhat authoritatively, “Do not delay for me, sir.
Go on.”

There was a movement in the next room, and then the
bridal party entered, both starting with surprise as they
saw Mr. Gilbert. Very beautiful did Mabel look, as she
stood up to take upon herself the marriage vow, not a
syllable of which did one of us hear. We were thinking
of Mr. Gilbert, and the strange words, “my son” and “my
sister.”

When it was over, and Mabel was Mrs. Sherwood, Mr.
Gilbert approached Mrs. Hudson, saying, “Come, mother,
let me lead you to the bride.”

With an impatient gesture she waved him off, and going
alone to her daughter, threw her arms around her
neck, sobbing convulsively. There was an awkward silence,

and then Mr. Gilbert, thinking he was called upon
for an explanation, arose, and addressing himself mostly
to Mr. Sherwood, said, “I suppose what has transpired
here to night seems rather strange, and will undoubtedly
furnish the neighborhood with gossip for more than a
week, but they are welcome to canvass whatever I do. I
can't help it if I was born with an unusual degree of pride;
neither can I help feeling mortified, as I many times did,
at my family, particularly after she,” glancing at his
mother, “married the man whose name she bears.”

Here Mrs. Hudson lifted up her head, and coming to
Mr. Gilbert's side, stood proudly erect, while he continued:
“She would tell you he was a good man, but I hated him,
and swore never to enter the house while he lived. I
went away, took care of myself, grew rich, married into
one of the first families in Hartford, and,— and —”

Here he paused, and his mother, continuing the sentence,
added, “and grew ashamed of your own mother,
who many a time went without the comforts of life that
you might be educated. You were always a proud, way-ward
boy, William, but never did I think you would do
as you have done. You have treated me with utter neglect,
never allowing your wife to see me, and when I once
proposed visiting you in Hartford, you asked your brother,
now dead, to dissuade me from it, if possible, for you
could not introduce me to your acquaintances as your
mother. Never do you speak of me to your children, who,
if they know they have a grandmother, little dream that
she lives within a mile of their father's dwelling. One of
them I have seen, and my heart yearned toward her as it
did toward you when first I took you in my arms, my
first-born baby; and yet, William, I thank heaven there
is in her sweet face no trace of her father's features. This
may sound harsh, unmotherly, but greatly have I been

sinned against, and now, just as a brighter day is dawning
upon me, why have you come here! Say, William,
why?”

By the time Mrs. Hudson had finished, nearly all in the
room were weeping. Mr. Gilbert, however, seemed perfectly
indifferent, and with the most provoking coolness
replied, “I came to see my fair sister married—to congratulate
her upon an alliance which will bring us upon a
more equal footing.”

“You greatly mistake me, sir, “said Mr. Sherwood,
turning haughtily toward Mr. Gilbert, at the same time
drawing Mabel nearer to him; “you greatly mistake me,
if, after what I have heard, you think I would wish for
your acquaintance. If my wife, when poor and obscure,
was not worthy of your attention, you certainly are not
now worthy of hers, and it is my request that our intercourse
should end here.”

Mr. Gilbert muttered something about “extenuating
circumstances,” and “the whole not being told,” but no
one paid him any attention; and at last, snatching up his
hat, he precipitately left the house, I sending after him a
hearty good riddance, and mentally hoping he would
measure his length in the ditch which he must pass on his
way across hemlock swamp.

The next morning Mr. and Mrs. Sherwood departed on
their bridal tour, intending, on their return, to take their
mother with them to the city. Several times during their
absence I saw Mr. Gilbert, either going to or returning
from the “haunted house,” and I readily guessed he was
trying to talk his mother over, for nothing could be more
mortifying than to be cut by the Sherwoods, who were
among the first in Hartford. Afterward, greatly to my
satisfaction, I heard that though, mother-like, Mrs. Hudson
had forgiven her son, Mr. Sherwood ever treated him

with a cool haughtiness, which effectually kept him at a
distance.

Once, indeed, at Mabel's earnest request, Mrs. Gilbert
and Nellie were invited to visit her, and as the former
was too feeble to accomplish the journey, Nellie went
alone, staying a long time, and torturing her sister on her
return with a glowing account of the elegantly furnished
house, of which Adaline had once hoped to be the proud
mistress.

For several years after Mabel's departure from Rice
Corner, nothing especial occurred in the Gilbert family,
except the marriage of Adaline with a rich bachelor, who
must have been many years older than her father, for he
colored his whiskers, wore false teeth and a wig, besides
having, as Nellie declared, a wooden leg! For the truth
of this last I will not vouch, as Nellie's assertion was only
founded upon the fact of her having once looked through
the keywhole of his door, and espied standing by his bed
something which looked like a cork leg, but which might
have been a boot! What Adaline saw in him to like, I
could never guess. I suppose, however, that she only
looked at his rich gilding, which covered a multitude of
defects.

Immediately after the wedding, the happy pair started
for a two years' tour in Europe, where the youthful bride
so enraged her bald-headed lord by flirting with a mustached
Frenchman, that in a fit of anger the old man
picked up his goods, chattels, and wife, and returned to
New York within three months of his leaving it!