And once, a belated picnic party, returning from Barker's landing,
discovered a phantom sail flitting slowly in the night breeze over the
dark waters to the west. They lingered on the brow of the hill, until
it disappeared under the shadow of the western wooded shore, wondering
and questioning much as to who and what it was. One, the loveliest,
knew, but said nothing.
The Markhams, one day, in their carriage, passed Bart with his books
toiling up Oak Hill. He removed his hat as they passed, without other
recognition. All of them felt the invisible wall between them, and
two, at least, silently regretted that they might not invite him to an
unoccupied seat. They were at the Fords' to dinner that day, and Bart,
being invited to join them by the General, politely declined.
The General was a little grave at the table, while Mrs. Ford was
decided and marked in her commendation of the young student, and
described, with great animation, a little excursion they had made
over to the pond, and the skill with which Bart had managed his little
sail-boat.
CHAPTER XXII.
A SHATTERED COLUMN.
In mid June came the blow. George brought up from the post-office, one
evening, the following letter:
"PAINESVILLE, June 18, 1837. BARTON RIDGELEY, ESQ.:
"_Dear Sir_,--I write at the request of my sister, Mrs. Hitchcock. Your
brother is very ill. Wanders in his mind, and we are uneasy about
him. He has been sick about a week. Mr. Hitchcock is absent at court.
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