"Fifty!" exclaimed Julia, in a tone of
disappointment.
"'Tis too old," said Miss Emmerson; "he should he
able to undergo fatigue."
"Well, I may be mistaken--Oh, he can't be more
than forty, or thirty," continued the man, watching
the countenance of Julia; "he is a man that looks
much older than he is."
"Is he strong and active?"
"I guess he is--he's as strong as an ox, and active
as a cat," said the other, determined he should
pass.
"Well, then," said the aunt, in her satisfied way,
"let every thing be ready for us in Albany by next
Tuesday. We shall leave home on Monday."
The man withdrew.
Julia had heard enough--for ox she had substituted
Hercules, and for cat, she read the feathered
Mercury.
CHAPTER V.
THE long expected Monday at length arrived, and
Miss Emmerson and Julia, taking an affectionate
leave of their relatives in the city, went on board
the steam-boat under the protection of Charles
Weston. Here a new scene indeed opened on our
heroine; for some time she even forgot to look
around her in the throng in quest of Antonio. As the
boat glided along the stream, she stood leaning on
one arm of Charles, while Miss Emmerson held the
other, in delighted gaze at the objects, which they
had scarcely distinguished before they were passed.
"See, dear Charles," cried Julia, in a burst of what
she would call natural feeling--"there is our house--
here the summerhouse, and there the little arbour
where you read to us last week Scott's new novel--
how delightful! every thing now seems and feels
like home.
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