"and servant" had been first written and then
overscored. "Oh, extra baggage to be sure," I now said to
myself--"something he wishes not to be put in the hold--something to be
kept under his own eye--ah, I have it--a painting or so--and this is
what he has been bargaining about with Ficolino, the Italian Jew." This
idea satisfied me, and I dismissed my curiosity for the nonce.

Wyatt's two sisters I knew very well, and most amiable and clever girls
they were. His wife he had newly married, and I had never yet seen her.
He had often talked about her in my presence, however, and in his usual
style of enthusiasm. He described her as of surpassing beauty, wit, and
accomplishment. I was, therefore, quite anxious to make her
acquaintance.

On the day in which I visited the ship (the fourteenth), Wyatt and a
party were also to visit it--so the captain informed me--and I waited on
board an hour longer than I had designed, in hope of being presented to
the bride; but then an apology came. "Mr. W. was a little indisposed,
and would decline coming on board until to-morrow, at the hour of
sailing."

The morrow having arrived, I was going from my hotel to the wharf, when
Captain Hardy met me and said that "owing circumstances" (a stupid but
convenient phrase), "he rather thought the Independence would not sail
for a day or two, and that when all was ready, he would send up and let
me know." This I thought strange, for there was a stiff southerly
breeze; but as "the circumstances" were not forthcoming, although I
pumped for them with much perseverance, I had nothing to do but to
return home and digest my impatience at leisure.

I did not receive the expected message from the captain for nearly a
week. It came at length, however, and I immediately went on board. The
ship was crowded with passengers, and everything was in the bustle
attendant upon making sail. Wyatt's party arrived in about ten minutes
after myself. There were the two sisters, the bride, and the artist--the
latter in one of his customary fits of moody misanthropy. I was too
well used to these, however, to pay them any special attention. He did
not even introduce me to his wife, this courtesy devolving, per force,
upon his sister Marian, a very sweet and intelligent girl, who, in a few
hurried words, made us acquainted.

Mrs. Wyatt had been closely veiled; and when she raised her veil, in
acknowledging my bow, I confess that I was very profoundly astonished. I
sho