I had not felt so sad since the news came to me of the death of my father as on this occasion. I parted with Margie Tiffany and her father--more especially with Margie--with a regret which I cannot describe. But I was permitted to write to her (and her father) as often as once a month, and I hope before long to see her in England.
Buck and Hop had not been gone more than an hour before they re-appeared with "store clothes" on, and did not look at all like the excellent sailors they were. Their real names were Richard Lawrence and Edward Blakeley; and when they appeared in their new dress I called them by their proper names. They were very sorry to leave the Sylvania, and I expressed the hope that they would come and spend a summer with me in a cruise around the Great Lakes. They promised to do it, if possible.
Once more we bade them good-by. We staid in Buffalo to see the party off for New York; and up to this time that was the last I have seen of them.
After my father joined our party, I noticed that Owen Garningham was never himself again. Though he continued to flutter around Miss Edith, he never seemed to be so well pleased with me as before. Yet I do not think he had anything against me. I could only attribute the change in him to the cancelling of the contract for the use of the Sylvania for a year, though he had said very little about the matter. He parted with me, I think with real sorrow, and hoped he should see me again before even another year had passed by.
I saw my cousin seated in the car by the side of Miss Edith. He sailed for England in June, but I have no idea how he had the courage to tear himself away from her. I have no doubt they will be man and wife in due time, though my father says his mother will never consent to the match. As soon as the train started we returned to the Sylvania. The two waiters we had hired in Florida wanted to seek their fortune in New York, and Colonel Shepard promised to do all he could for them on their arrival.
Cobbington returned to Montomercy with my father and myself. He was now in apparently good health, but he declared that it would cost him his life to remain in the North over winter. Governor Hungerford wrote to me, as he had promised to do, during the summer. Before the cold weather came, I had secured a situation in Baton Rouge for the invalid, where at the last accounts he was in good health, acting as messenger for the governor.