In some respects Peter was much gratified, then, at the invitation. Miss Van Hoosen was the bright particular star of the local celebrities of Woodsome; for though her residence was some miles beyond the village, she owned much property in it; and her influence was marked, and always favorable. For himself Peter had never boasted of their cousinship; but he could not help being a little uplifted at Adriana's recognition. And if he thought of the gratification he would find in just naming the affair, in an incidental way, before Bogart and others, it was a bit of pride so natural and so unselfish as to merit a smiling toleration.
It was then decided that Adriana should go to New York on the following Monday; and Miss Alida went cheerfully away with the promise. "I hope to have Antony to meet you," she said, as they parted, "for I shall write to him this very night." And then turning to Peter she added, "I look forward with great delight to this new experience; for I have a large maternal instinct, and I intend to make myself believe that I have a son and daughter to settle in life."
"I hope that your intention will bring you nothing but pleasure, and that it will end well."
"I know not, Cousin Peter." Her face became thoughtful, and she added, with some seriousness:
"The thing we intend is sure to bring with it lots of things we did not intend, and often of far superior importance; but----"
"Our times are always in His hand. We do not shape our own destiny, cousin."
"Oh, indeed! I should like to dispute that point with you; but the train is no respecter of persons, so we must let its settlement wait on our convenience."
With these words she waved an adieu to Adriana, and Peter drove her away. Then Adriana sat down to try to realize the change that had so suddenly come over her circumstances. Her first thought was the glad one that she had voluntarily made her father happy before this invitation came. How mean she would have felt if she had not done so! He might then have been pleased to get rid of her sad face and melancholy ways; and she could not have written to him about her pleasures in New York. She would have been ashamed to do so. And on many other accounts, she understood at this hour that unselfishness pays no one so well as it pays those who practice it.