Ethelyn's Mistake - Page 182/218

They were very full at Clifton that summer, for the new building was not

completed, and every available point was taken, from narrow, contracted

No. 94 in the upper hall down to more spacious No. 8 on the lower floor,

where the dampness, and noise, and mold, and smell of coal and cooking,

and lower bathrooms were. "A very, very quiet place, with only a few

invalids too weak and languid, and too much absorbed in themselves and

their 'complaints' to note or care for their neighbors; a place where

one lives almost as much excluded from the world as if immured within

convent walls; a place where dress and fashion and distinction were

unknown, save as something existing afar off, where the turmoil and

excitement of life were going on." This was Ethelyn's idea of Clifton;

and when, at four o'clock, on a bright June afternoon, the heavily laden

train stopped before the little brown station, and "Clifton" was shouted

in her ears, she looked out with a bewildered kind of feeling upon the

crowd of gayly dressed people congregated upon the platform. Heads were

uncovered, and hair frizzled, and curled, and braided, and puffed, and

arranged in every conceivable shape, showing that even to that "quiet

town" the hairdresser's craft had penetrated. Expanded crinoline, with

light, fleecy robes, and ribbons, and laces, and flowers, was there

assembled, with bright, eager, healthful faces, and snowy hands wafting

kisses to some departed friend, and then turning to greet some new

arrival. There were no traces of sickness, no token of disease among the

smiling crowd, and Ethelyn almost feared she had made a mistake and

alighted at the wrong place, as she gave her checks to John, and then

taking her seat in the omnibus, sat waiting and listening to the lively

sallies and playful remarks around her. Nobody spoke to her, nobody

stared at her, nobody seemed to think of her; and for that she was

thankful, as she sat with her veil drawn closely over her face, looking

out upon the not very pretentious dwellings they were passing. The

scenery around Clifton is charming, and to the worn, weary invalid

escaping from the noise and heat and bustle of the busy city, there

seems to come a rest and a quiet, from the sunlight which falls upon the

hills, to the cool, moist meadow lands where the ferns and mosses grow,

and where the rippling of the sulphur brook gives out constantly a

soothing, pleasant kind of music. But for the architecture of the town

not very much can be said; and Ethie, who had longed to get away from

Chicopee, where everybody knew her story, and all looked curiously at

her, confessed to a feeling of homesickness as her eyes fell upon the

blacksmith shop, the dressmaker's sign, the grocery on the corner, where

were sold various articles of food forbidden by doctor and nurse; the

schoolhouse to the right, where a group of noisy children played, and

the little church further on, where the Methodist people worshiped. She

did not see the "Cottage" then, with its flowers and vines, and nicely

shaven lawn, for her back was to it; nor the handsome grounds, where the

shadows from the tall trees fall so softly upon the velvet grass; and

the winding graveled walks, which intersect each other and give an

impression of greater space than a closer investigation will warrant.