m 
 
 
 m 
 
 
LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 DAVIS 
 
\ 
 
 
 
POP ULJIR JVO VEL S 
 By JVIrs. Mary J. Holmes, 
 
 All published uniform with this volume, at $1.50, and sent 
 free by mail on receipt of price. 
 
 I. HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 II. DARKNESS AND DAYLIGHT. 
 III. LENA RIVERS. 
 IV. TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE. 
 
 V. MARIAN GREY. 
 VI. MEADOW BROOK. 
 VII. ENGLISH ORPHANS. 
 VIII. DORA DEANE. 
 IX. COUSIN MAUDE. 
 
 X. HOMESTEAD ON THE HILLSIDE. 
 
 Mrs. Holmes is a peculiarly pleasant and fascinating writer. 
 Her books are always entertaining, and she has ttie 
 rare faculty of enlisting the sympathy and aflec- 
 tions of her readers, and of holding their 
 attention to her pages with deep 
 and absorbing interest. 
 
 CAIMJETON, Publisher, 
 New York.. 
 
HUGH WORTHINGTON 
 
 OF 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. MARY J. HOLMES, 
 
 AUTHOR OP "DARKNESS AND DAYLIGHT," "'LENA BITERS," " MARIAN GREY, 
 
 "MEADOW BROOK," "HOMESTEAD," "DORA DEANE," "COUSIN MAUDE," 
 
 "TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE," "ENGLISH ORPHANS," ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 CARLETOJY, P UBL1SHER, 413 BROADWAY. 
 M DCCC LXV. 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 DAVIS 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1365, by 
 
 DANIEL HOLMES, 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Northern District of New York 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER. PAGE. 
 
 I. SPRING BANK 7 
 
 II. WHAT ROVER FOUND. 15 
 
 in. HUGH'S SOLILOQUY 84 
 
 IV. TERRACE HILL. 39 
 
 V. ANNA AND JOHN. 49 
 
 VI. ALICE JOHNSON. ....... 55 
 
 VII. RIVERSIDE COTTAGE 61 
 
 VIII. MR. LISTON AND THE DOCTOR 73 
 
 IX. MATTERS IN KENTUCKY. ... t . 78 
 
 x. 'LINA'S PURCHASE AND HUGH'S. .... 89 
 
 XI. 8AM AND ADAH. . 98 
 
 XII. WHAT FOLLOWED 104 
 
 XIII. HOW HUGH PAID HIS DEBTS. 109 
 
 xiv. MRS. JOHNSON'S LETTER. 117 
 
 XV. SARATOGA. 125 
 
 XVI. THE COLUMBIAN 134 
 
 XVII. HUGH 144 
 
 XVIII. MEETING OF ALICE AND HUGH. . . . 151 
 
 XIX. ALICE AND MUGGINS. ... 159 
 
 XX. POOR HUGH. 164 
 
VI CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTEB. PAGE. 
 
 XXI. ALICE AND ADAH 182 
 
 XXII. WAKING TO CONSCIOUSNESS. . . . 193 
 
 XXIII. THE SALE. 208 
 
 XXIV. THE RIDE. 215 
 
 XXV. HUGH AND ALICE 221 
 
 xxvi. ADAH'S JOURNEY. 233 
 
 XXVII. ADAH AT TERRACE HILL 241 
 
 XXVIII. ANNA AND ADAH. 250 
 
 XXIX. THE RESULT 261 
 
 XXX. EXCITEMENT. 275 
 
 XXXI. MATTERS AT SPRING BANK. 283 
 
 XXXII. THE DAY OF THE WEDDING 290 
 
 XXXIII. THE CONVICT'S STORY. 298 
 
 xxxiv. POOR 'LINA. 308 
 
 XXXV. JOINING THE ARMY. .15 
 
 XXXVI. THE DESERTER 325 
 
 XXXVII. THE SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN 341 
 
 XXXVIII. HUGH AND SAM - . 847 
 
 XXXIX. GOING HOME. 355 
 
 XL. CONCLUSION. ... . 366 
 
HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 SPUING BANK. 
 
 It was a large, old-fashioned, wooden building, with 
 long, winding piazzas, and low, square porches, where the 
 summer sunshine held many a fantastic dafcce, and where 
 the winter storm piled up its drifts of snow, whistling 
 merrily as it worked, and shaking the loosened casement, 
 as it went whirling by. In front was a wide-spreading 
 grassy lawn with the carriage road winding through 
 it, over the running brook and onward beneath tall forest 
 trees until it reached the main highway, a distance of 
 nearly half a mile. In the rear was a spacious garden, 
 with bordered walks, climbing roses and creeping vines 
 showing that some where there was a ruling hand, which, 
 while neglecting the sombre building and suffering it to 
 decay, lavished due care upon the grounds, and not on 
 these alone, but also on the well kept barns, and the 
 white-washed dwellings of the negroes, for ours is a Ken 
 tucky scene, and Spring Bank a Kentucky home. 
 
 As we have described it so it was on a drear December 
 night, when a fearful storm, for that latitude, was raging, 
 and the snow lay heaped against the fences, or sweeping 
 down from the bending trees, drifted against the doors, 
 and beat against the windows, whence a cheerful light 
 was gleaming, telling of life and possible happiness with 
 in. There were no flowing curtains before the windows, 
 no drapery sweeping to the floor nothing save blinds 
 
HUGH WORTHING TOX. 
 
 without and simple shades within, neither of which were 
 doing service now, for the master of the house would 
 have it so in spite of his sister's remonstrances. 
 
 " Some one might lose their way on that terrible night," 
 he said, " and the blaze of the fire on the hearth, which 
 could be seen from afar, would be to them a beacon light 
 to guide them on their way. Nobody would look in up 
 on them, as Adaline, or 'Lina as she chose to be called 
 seemed to think there might, and even if they did, why 
 need she care ? She was looking well enough, and she'd 
 undone all those little braids which disfigured her so 
 shockingly in the morning, but which, when brushed and 
 carefully arranged, gave her hair that waving appearance 
 she so much desired. As for himself, he never meant to 
 do anything of which he was ashamed, so he did not care 
 how many were watching him through the window," and 
 stamping his heavy boots upon the rug, for he had just 
 come in from the storm, Hugh Worthington piled fresh 
 fuel upon the fire, and shaking back the mass of short 
 brown curls which had fallen upon his forehead, strode 
 across the room and arranged the shades to his liking, 
 then, sitting down before the fire, he went off into a rev 
 erie, the nature of which his mother, who was watching 
 him, could not guess ; and when at last she asked of what 
 he was thinking so intently, he made her no reply. He 
 could hardly have told himself, so varied were the 
 thoughts crowding upon his brain that wintry night. 
 Now they were of the eccentric old man, from whom he 
 had received Spring Bank, together with the many pecu 
 liar ideas which made him the strange, odd creature he was, 
 a mystery to his own sex, and a kind of terror to the female 
 portion of the neighborhood, who, looking upon him as a 
 woman-hater, avoided or coveted his society, j^st as their 
 fancy dictated. For years the old man and the boy had 
 lived alone in that great house, enjoying the freedom from 
 all restraint, the liberty of turning the parlors into ken- 
 
SPRING BANK. 9 
 
 nels if they chose, and converting the upper rooms into a 
 hay-loft, if they would. No white woman was ever seen 
 upon the premises, unless she came as a beggar, when some 
 new gown, or surplice, or organ, or chandelier, was need 
 ed for the pretty little church, lifting its modest spire so un 
 obtrusively among the forest trees, not very far from Spring 
 Bank. John Stanley didn't believe in churches, nor gowns, 
 nor organs, nor women, but he was proverbially liberal; 
 and so the fair ones of Glen's Creek neighborhood ven 
 tured into his den, finding it much pleasanter to do so af 
 ter the handsome, dark-haired boy came to live with him ; 
 for about Hugh there was then something very attract 
 ive to the little girls, while their mothers pitied him, won 
 dering why he had been permitted to come there, and 
 watching for the change in him, which was sure to ensue. 
 
 Not all at once did Hugh conform to the customs of 
 his uncle's household, and at first there often came over 
 him a longing for the refinements of his Northern home, 
 and a wish to infuse into Chloe, the colored housekeeper, 
 some of his mother's neatness. But a few attempts at re 
 form had taught him how futile was the effort, Aunt Chloe 
 always meeting him with the argument, 
 
 " 'Tain't no use, Mas'r Hugh. A nigger's a nigger ; 
 and I spec' ef you're to talk to me till you was hoarse 
 bout your Yankee ways of scrubbing and sweepin', and 
 moppin' with a broom, I shouldn't be an atomer white- 
 folksey than I is now. Besides Mas'r John wouldn't bar 
 no finery ; he's only happy when the truck is mighty 
 nigh a foot thick, and his things is lyin' round loose and 
 handy." 
 
 To a certain extent this was true, for John Stanley would 
 have felt sadly out of place in any spot where, as Chloe 
 said, " his things were not lying round loose and handy," 
 and as habit is everything, so Hugh soon grew accus 
 tomed to his surroundings, and became as careless of his 
 external appearance as his uncle could desire. Only once 
 
10 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 had there come to him an awakening a faint concep 
 tion of the happiness there might arise from constant as- 
 soAation with the pure and refined, such as his uncle had 
 labored to make him believe did not exist. He was 
 thinking of that incident now, and it was not strange that 
 he did not heed his mother when she spoke, for Hugh was 
 far away from Spring Bank, and the storm beating against 
 its walls was to him like the sound of the waves dashing 
 against the vessel's side, just as they did years ago on 
 that night he remembered so well, shuddering as he heard 
 again the murderous hiss of the devouring flames, cover 
 ing the fated boat with one sheet of fire, and driving into 
 the water as a safer friend the Shrieking, frightened 
 wretches who but an hour before had been so full of life 
 and hope, dancing gayly above the red-tongued demon 
 stealthily creeping upward from the hold below, where it 
 had taken life. What a fearful scene that was, and the 
 veins grew larger on Hugh's brow while his broad chest 
 heaved with something like a stifled sob as he recalled 
 the little childish form to which he had clung so madly 
 until the cruel timber struck from him all consciousness, 
 and he let that form go down 'neath the treacherous 
 waters of Lake Erie never to come up again alive, for so 
 his uncle told him when, weeks after the occurence, he 
 awoke from the delirious fever which ensued and listen 
 ed to the sickening detail. 
 
 " Lost, my boy, lost with many others," was what his 
 uncle had said. 
 
 " Lost " there was a world of meaning in that word 
 to Hugh and though it was but a child he lost, yet in the 
 quiet night, when all else around Spring Bank was locked 
 in sleep, he often lay thinking of her and of what he 
 might perhaps have been had she been spared to him. 
 He had talked with her scarcely an hour in all, but even 
 in that time she had made upon him an impression 
 which could never be effaced. He was thinking of her 
 
SPRING BANK. 11 
 
 now, and as he thought, visions of a^sweet, young face, 
 shadowed with curls of golden hair, came up before his 
 mind, and he saw again the look of surprise and pain 
 which shone in the soft, blue eyes and illuminated every 
 feature when in answer to some remark of hers he gave 
 vent to the half infidel principles he had learned from his 
 uncle. Her creed was different from his, and she ex 
 plained it to him so earnestly, that he said to her at last 
 he did but jest to hear what she would say, and though 
 she seemed satisfied he felt there was a shadow between 
 them which was not swept away, even after he promised 
 to read the Bible she timidly offered him and which he 
 had accepted wondering at her interest in one whose name 
 she did not even know. Hers was written on the fly-leaf 
 of the little book which he had yet hidden away where 
 no curious eye could find it, while carefully folded between 
 its leaves was a curl of golden hair. That tress and the 
 Bible which enclosed it had made Hugh Worthington a 
 better man. He did not often read the Bible, it is true, 
 and his acquaintances were frequently startled with opin 
 ions which had so pained the little girl on board the St. 
 Helena, but this was merely on the surface, for far below 
 the rough exterior there was a world of goodness, a mine 
 of gems kept bright by memories of the angel child who 
 flitted for so brief a span across his pathway and then 
 was lost forever. He had tried so hard to save her 
 had clasped her so fondly to his bosom when with extend 
 ed arms she came to him for aid. He could save her, 
 he said he could swim to the shore with perfect ease ; 
 and so without a moment's hesitation she had leaped 
 with him into the surging waves, and that was about the 
 last he could remember, save that he clutched frantically 
 at the long, golden hair streaming above the water, re 
 taining in his grasp the lock which no one at Spring r 
 Bank had ever seen, for this one romance of Hugh's life 
 was a secret with himself. No one save his uncle had 
 witnessed his emotions when told that she was dead ; no 
 
12 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 one else had seen his bitter tears or heard the vehement 
 exclamation, "You've tried to teach me there was no 
 hereafter, no Heaven for such as she, but I know better 
 now, and I am glad there is, for she is safe forever." 
 
 These were not idle words, and the belief then ex 
 pressed became with Hugh Worthington a fixed principle, 
 which his skeptical uncle tried in vain to eradicate. 
 " There was a Heaven, and she was there," comprised 
 nearly the whole of Hugh's religious creed, if we except 
 a vague, misty hope, that he, too, would some day find 
 her, how or by what means he never seriously inquired ; 
 only this he knew, it would be through her influence, 
 *. which even now followed him every where, producing its 
 good effects. It had checked him many and many a time 
 when his fierce temper was in the ascendant, forcing back 
 the harsh words he would otherwise have spoken, and mak 
 ing him as gentle as a child : and when the temptations 
 to which young men of his age are exposed were spread 
 out alluringly before him, a single thought of her was 
 sufficient to lead him from the forbidden ground. 
 
 Every incident connected with his brief acquaintance 
 with Golden Hair seemed to be recalled to his mind this 
 wintry night, and so absorbed was he in his reverie that 
 until twice repeated he did not hear his mother's anxious 
 inquiry, 
 
 " What is that noise? It sounds like some one in dis 
 tress." 
 
 Hugh started at last, and after listening for a moment 
 he, too, caught the sound which had alarmed his mother, 
 and made 'Lina stop her reading. A moaning cry, as if 
 for help, mingled with an infant's wail, now here, now 
 there it seemed to be, just as the fierce north wind shift 
 ed its course and drove first at the window of the sitting 
 room, and then at the ponderous doors of the gloomy 
 hall. 
 
 "It is some one in the storm," Hugh said, going to the 
 window and peering out into the darkness. 
 
SPRING BANK. 13 
 
 "Lyd's child, most likely. Negro young ones are 
 always squalling, and I heard her tell Aunt Chloe at sup 
 per time that Tommie had the colic," 'Lina remarked, 
 opening again the book she was reading, and with a 
 plight shiver drawing nearer to the fire. 
 
 " Where are you going, my son ? " asked Mrs. Worth- 
 ington, as Hugh arose to leave the room. 
 
 " Going to Lyd's cabin-, for if Tommie is sick enough to 
 make his screams heard above the storm, she may need 
 some help," was Hugh's reply, and a moment after he 
 was ploughing his way through the drifts which lay be 
 tween the house and the negro quarters. 
 
 " How kind and thoughtful he is," the mother said, 
 more to herself than to her daughter, who nevertheless 
 quickly rejoined, 
 
 "Yes, kind to niggers, and horses, and dogs, I'll admit, 
 but let me, or any other white woman come before him as 
 an object of pity, and the tables are turned at once. I 
 wonder what does make him hate women so." 
 
 " I don't believe he does," Mrs. Worthington replied. 
 "His uncle, you know, was very unfortunate in his mar 
 riage, and had a way of judging all our sex by his wife. 
 Living with him as long as Hugh did, it's natural he should 
 imbibe a few of his ideas." 
 
 " A few," 'Lina repeated, " better say all, for John Stan 
 ley and Hugh Worthington are as near alike as an old and 
 young man well could be. What an old codger he was, 
 and how like a savage he lived here. I never shall forget 
 how the house looked the day we came, or how satisfied 
 Hugh seemed when he met us at the gate, and said, ' every 
 thing was in splendid order,' " and closing her book, the 
 young lady laughed merrily as she recalled the time when 
 she first crossed her brother's threshold, stepping, as she 
 affirmed, over half a dozen dogs, and as many squirming 
 kittens, catching her foot in some fishing tackle, finding 
 tobacco in the china closet, and segars in the knife box, 
 where they had been put to get them out of the way. 
 
14 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 " But Hugh really did his best for us," mildly interposed 
 the mother. "Don't you remember what the servants 
 said about his cleaning one floor himself because he knew 
 they were tired ! " 
 
 " Did it more to save the lazy negroes' steps than from 
 any regard for our comfort," retorted 'Lina. " At all 
 events he's been mighty careful since, how he gratified 
 my wishes. Sometimes I believe he perfectly hates me, 
 and wishes I'd never been born," and tears which arose 
 from anger, rather than any wounded sisterly feeling, 
 glittered in 'Lina's black eyes. 
 
 " Hugh does not hate any one," said Mrs. Worthington, 
 " much less his sister, though you must admit that you try 
 him terribly." 
 
 " How, I'd like to know ? " 'Lina asked, and her moth 
 er replied, 
 
 " He thinks you proud, and vain, and artificial, and 
 you know he abhors deceit above all else. Why he'd 
 cut oif his right hand sooner than tell a lie." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " was 'Lina's contemptuous response, then 
 after a moment, she continued, " I wonder how- we came 
 to be so different. He must be like his father, and I like 
 mine, that is, supposing I know who he is. Wouldn't it 
 be funny if, just to be hateful, he had sent you back the 
 wrong child ! " 
 
 " What made you think of that ? " Mrs. Worthington 
 asked, quickly, and 'Lina replied, 
 
 " Oh, x nothing, only the last time Hugh had one of his 
 tantrums, and got so outrageously angry at me, he said 
 he'd give all he owned if it were so, but I reckon he'll 
 never have his wish. There's too much of old Sam about 
 me to admit of a doubt, and, laughing spitefully, 'Lina re 
 turned to her book, just as Hugh re-entered the room. 
 
 " Have you heard that sound again?" he asked. "It 
 wasn't Tommie, for I found him asleep, and I've been all 
 round the house, but could discover nothing. The storm 
 
SPRING BANK. 15 
 
 is beginning to abate, I think, and the moon is trying to 
 break through the clouds," and going again to the win 
 dow, Hugh looked out into the yard, where the shrub 
 bery and trees were just discernible in the greyish light of 
 the December moon. " That's a big drift by the lower 
 gate," he continued ; " and queer shaped, too. Come see, 
 mother. Isn't that a shawl, or an apron, or something 
 blowing in the wind ? " 
 
 Mrs. Worthington arose, and joining her son, looked in 
 the direction indicated, where a garment of some kind 
 was certainly fluttering in the gale. 
 
 " It's something from the wash, I guess," she said. " I 
 thought all the time Hannah had better riot hang out the 
 clothes, as some of them were sure to be lost." 
 
 This explanation was quite satisfactory to Mrs. Worth 
 ington, but that strange drift by the gate troubled Hugh, 
 and the signal above it seemed to him like a signal of dis 
 tress. Why should the snow drift there more than else 
 where ? He never knew it do so before. He had half 
 a rnind to turn out the dogs, and see what that would do. 
 
 " Rover,'' he called suddenly, as he advanced to the 
 rear room, where, among his other pets, was a huge New 
 foundland, of great sagacity. " Rover, Rover, I want 
 you." 
 
 In an instant the whole pack were upon him, jumping 
 and fawning, and licking the hands which had never 
 dealt them aught save kindness. It was only Rover, 
 however, who was this tinid needed, and leading him to 
 the door, Hugh pointed toward the gate, and bade him 
 see what was there. Snuffing slightly at the storm which 
 was not over yet, Rover started down the walk, while 
 Hugh stood waiting in the door. At first Rover's steps 
 were slow and uncertain, but as he advanced they in 
 creased in rapidity, until, with a sudden bound and a cry, 
 such as dogs are wont to give when they have caught 
 their destined prey, he sprang upon the mysterious ridge, 
 and commenced digging it down with his paws. 
 
16 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 " Easy, Rover be careful," Hugh called from the 
 door, and instantly the half savage growl which the 'wind 
 had brought to his ear was changed into a piteous cry, as 
 if the faithful creature were answering back that other 
 help than his was needed there. 
 
 Rover had found something in that pile of snow. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 WHAT ROVER FOTJTSTD. 
 
 Unmindful of the sleet beating upon his uncovered head, 
 Hugh hastened to the spot, where the noble brute was 
 licking a baby face, which he had ferreted out from be 
 neath the shawl wrapped so carefully around it to shield 
 it from the cold, for instead of one there were two in that 
 drift of snow a mother and her child ! Dead the for 
 mer seemed, for the white cheek which Hugh touched was 
 cold as stone, and with a sickening feeling the young man 
 leaned against the gate-post and tried to assure himself 
 that what he saw was a mere fancy of the brain. But it 
 was terribly real. That stiffened form lying there so still, 
 hugging that sleeping child so closely to its bosom, was 
 no delusion, and his mother's voice, calling to know what 
 he was doing, brought Hugh back at last to a conscious 
 ness that he must act immediately. 
 
 " Mother," he screamed, " send a servant here, quick, 
 or let Ad come herself. There's a woman dead, I fear. I 
 can carry her well enough, but Ad must come for the 
 child." 
 
 " The what ? " gasped Mrs. Worthington, who, terrified 
 beyond measure at the mention of a dead woman, was 
 doubly so at hearing of a child. " A child," she repeat 
 ed, " whose child?" while 'Lina, shrinking back from the 
 
WHAT KOVER FOUND. 17 
 
 keen blast, refused to obey, and so the mother, throwing 
 her cloak around her, joined the group by the gate. 
 
 Carefully Hugh lifted the light figure in his arms and 
 
 , bore it to the house, where 'Lina, whose curiosity had over- 
 
 ercoine her selfishness, met him on the piazza and led the 
 
 way to the sitting-room, asking innumerable questions as 
 
 to how he found her and who she was. 
 
 Hugh made no reply save an order that the lounge 
 should be brought near the fire and a pillow from his 
 mother's bed. " From mine, then," he added, as he saw 
 the anxious look in his mother's face, and guessed that 
 she shrank from having her own snowy pillow come in 
 contact with the wet, limpid figure he was depositing up 
 on the lounge. It was a slight, girlish form, and the long 
 brown hair, loosened from its confinement, fell in rich pro 
 fusion over the pillow which 'Lina brought half reluctant 
 ly, eyeing askance the insensible object before her, and 
 daintily holding back her dress lest it should come in con 
 tact with the child her mother had deposited upon the 
 floor, where it lay crying lustily, unnoticed save by Rov 
 er, who, quite as awkward as his master would have been 
 in like circumstances, seemed trying to amuse and protect 
 ij, interposing his shaggy proportions between that and 
 the fire when once it showed a disposition to creep that 
 way. 
 
 " Do one of you do something" Hugh said, as he saw 
 how indisposed both his mother and sister were to help, 
 the former being too much frightened and the latter too 
 indignant to act. 
 
 The idea of a strange woman being thrust upon them 
 in this way was highly displeasing to Miss 'Lina, who 
 haughtily drew back from the little one when it stretched 
 its arms out toward her, while its pretty lip quivered and 
 the tears dropped over its rounded cheek. To her it was 
 nothing but an intruder, a brat, and so she steeled her 
 heart against its touching appeal, and turned her back up- 
 
18 HUGH WOBTHINGTOX. 
 
 on it, leaving for Rover the kindly office of soothing the 
 infant. 
 
 Meantime Hugh, with all a woman's tenderness, had 
 done for the now reviving stranger what he could, and as 
 his mother began to collect her scattered senses and evince 
 some interest in the matter, he withdrew to call the ne 
 groes, judging it prudent to remain away awhile, as his 
 presence might be an intrusion. From the first he had 
 felt sure that the individual thrown upon his charity was 
 not a low, vulgar person, as his sister seemed to think. 
 He had not yet seen her face distinctly, for it lay in the 
 shadow, but the long, flowing hair, the delicate hands, the 
 white neck, of which he had caught a glimpse as his 
 mother unfastened the stiffened dress, all these had made 
 an impression, and involuntarily repeating to himself, 
 " Poor girl," he strode a second time across the drifts 
 which lay in his back yard and was soon pounding at old 
 Ohloe's cabin door, bidding her and Hannah dress at once 
 and come immediately to the house. 
 
 " They will need hot water most likely," he thought 
 and returning to the kitchen he built the fire himself and 
 then sat down to wait until such time as it was proper for 
 him to appear again in the sitting-room, where a strange 
 scene was enacting. 
 
 The change of atmosphere and the restoratives applied 
 had done their work, and Mrs. Worthington saw that the 
 long eyelashes began to tremble, while a faint color stole 
 into the hitherto colorless cheeks, and at last the large, 
 brown eyes unclosed and looked into hers with an expres 
 sion so mournful, that a thrill of yearning tenderness for 
 the desolate young creature shot through her heart, and 
 bending down she said, kindly, " Are you better now ? " 
 
 "Yes, thank you. Where is Willie?" was the low re 
 sponse, the tone of the voice thrilling Mrs. Worthington 
 with an undefinable emotion. Even 'Lina started, it was 
 so low, so sweet, so musical, and coming near she answer- 
 
WHAT ItOVEK FOUND. 19 
 
 ed * If it's the baby you mean, he is here, playing with 
 our dog, Rover." 
 
 There was a look of gratitude in the brown eyes, while 
 the white lips moved slowly, and Mrs. Worthington caught 
 the whispered words of thanksgiving that baby Willie 
 was safe. 
 
 " Where am I ? she said next, and is he here ? Is this 
 his house ? " 
 
 " Whose house ?" Mrs. Worthington asked. Whom 
 are you looking for ? " 
 
 The girl did not answer at once, and when she did her 
 mind seemed wandering. 
 
 " I waited so long," she said, " and watched from morn 
 ing till dark, but he never came again, only the letter 
 which broke my heart. Willie was a wee baby then, and 
 I almost hated him for awhile, but he wasn't to blame. 
 I wasn't to blame. Our Father in Heaven knew I wasn't 
 and after I went to him and told him all about it, and 
 asked him to care for Adah, the first terrible pain was over 
 and love for Willie came back with a hope that the letter 
 might be false. I'm glad God gave me Willie now, even 
 if he did take his father from me." 
 
 Mrs. Worthington and her daughter exchanged curious 
 glances of wonder, and the latter abruptly asked, 
 
 " Where is Willie's father? " 
 
 "I don't know," came in a wailing sob from the depths 
 of the pillow where the face for a moment hid itself from 
 view. 
 
 " Where did you come from ? " was the next question, 
 put in a tone so cold and harsh that the young girl looked 
 up in some alarm, and answered meekly, 
 
 " From New York, ma'am. It's a great ways off, and 1 
 thought I'd never get here, but every body was so kind to 
 me and Willie, and the driver said if 'twan't so late, and 
 he so many passengers, he'd drive across the fields. He 
 pointed out the way and I came on alone. I saw the light 
 
20 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 off on the hill and tried to hurry, but the snow blinded me 
 so bad and Willie was so heavy, that I fell down by the 
 gate, and guess I went to sleep, for I remember dreaming 
 that the angels were watching over me, and covering 
 Willie with the snow to keep him warm." 
 
 The color had faded now from Mrs. Worthington's face, 
 for a terrible suspicion of she scarcely knew what had dart 
 ed across her mind, and very timidly she asked again, 
 
 " Whom did you hope to find ? " 
 
 " Mr. Worthington. Does he live here ? " was the frank 
 reply ; whereupon 'Lina, with crimsoning cheek, drew her 
 self up haughtily, exclaiming, 
 
 " I knew it. I've thought so ever since Hugh came home 
 from New York." 
 
 In her joy at having, as she supposed, found something 
 tangible against her provoking brother some weapon 
 with which to ward off his offensive attacks upon her own 
 deceit and want of truth - 'Lina forgot that she had never 
 seen much of him until several months after his return 
 from New York, at which time she had become, from ne 
 cessity, a member of his household and dependent upon 
 his bounty. 'Lina was unreasonable, and without stopping 
 to consider the effect her remarks would have upon the 
 young girl, she was about to commence a tirade of abuse, 
 when the mother interposed, and with an air of greater 
 authority than she generally assumed toward her imperi 
 ous daughter, bade her keep silence while she questioned 
 the stranger, gazing wonderingly from one to the other, 
 as if uncertain what they meant. 
 
 Mrs. Worthington had no such feelings for the girl as 
 'Lina entertained. If she were anything to Hugh, and the 
 circumstances thus far favored that belief, then she was 
 something to Hugh's mother, and the kind heart of the 
 matron went out toward her even more strongly than it 
 had done at first. 
 
 " It will be easier to talk with you," she said, leaning 
 forward, " if I knew what to call you." 
 
WHAT ROVER FOUND. 21 
 
 " Adah," was the response, and the brown eyes, swim 
 ming with tears, sought the face of the questioner with a 
 wistful eagerness. 
 
 " Adah, you say. Well, then, Adah, why have you 
 come to my son on such a night as this, and what is he to 
 you ? " 
 
 " Are you his mother ? " and Adah started up. " I did 
 not know he had one. " Oh, I'm so glad. And you'll be 
 kind to me, who never had a mother ? " 
 
 A person who never had a mother was an anomaly to 
 Mrs. Worthington, whose powers of comprehension were 
 not the clearest imaginable. 
 
 " Never had a mother ! " she repeated. " How can that 
 be?" 
 
 A smile flitted for a moment across Adah's pale face, 
 and then she answered, 
 
 " I never knew a mother's care, I mean. There is some 
 mystery which I could not fathom, only sometimes there 
 comes up visions of a cottage with water near, and there's 
 a lady there with voice and eyes like yours, and somebody 
 is teaching me to walk somebody who calls me little 
 sister, though I've never seen him since. Then there is 
 confusion, a rolling of wheels, and a hum of some great 
 city, and that's all I know of mother." 
 
 " But your father? What do you know of him? " said 
 Mrs. Worthington, and instantly a shadow stole into the 
 sweet young face, as Adah replied, " Nothing definite." 
 
 " And Hugh ? Where did you meet him ? And what 
 is he to you ? " 
 
 " The only friend I've got in the wide world. May I 
 see him, please ? " 
 
 "First tell what he is to you and to this child,'' 
 'Lina rejoined, her black eyes flashing with a gleam, be 
 fore which the brown eyes for an instant quailed ; then 
 as if something of a like spirit were called to life in her 
 bosom, Adah answered calmly, 
 
HUGH WOBTIIINGTON. 
 
 on the hill and tried to hurry, but the snow blinded me 
 bad and Willie was so heavy, that I fell down by the 
 e, and guess I went to sleep, for I remember dreaming 
 t the angels were watching over me, and covering 
 Hie with the snow to keep him warm." 
 ?he color had faded now from Mrs. Worth ington's face, 
 a terrible suspicion of she scarcely knew what had dart- 
 across her mind, and very timidly she asked again, 
 
 Whom did you hope to find ? n 
 
 Mr. Worthington. Does he live here ? " was the frank 
 ly ; whereupon 'Lina, with crimsoning cheek, drew her- 
 * up haughtily, exclaiming, 
 
 I knew it. I've thought so ever since Hugh came home 
 n New York." 
 
 n her joy at having, as she supposed, found something 
 gible against her provoking brother some weapon 
 h which to ward off bis offensive attacks upon her own 
 it and want of truth ' 'Lina forgot that she had never 
 ii much of him until several months after his return 
 m New York, at which time she had become, from ne- 
 sity, a member of his household and dependent upon 
 bounty. 'Lina was unreasonable, and without stopping 
 consider the effect her remarks would have upon the 
 mg girl, she was about to commence a tirade of abuse, 
 en the mother interposed, and with an air of greater 
 hority than she generally assumed toward her imperi- 
 j daughter, bade her keep silence while she questioned 
 
 stranger, gazing wonderingly from one to the other, 
 if uncertain what they meant. 
 
 Vlrs. Worthington had no such feelings for the girl as 
 na entertained. If she were anything to Hugh, and the 
 3umstances thus far favored that belief, then she was 
 aething to Hugh's mother, and the kind heart of 
 tron went out toward her even more st 
 1 done at first. 
 
 4 It will be easier to talk with 
 ward, if I knew 
 
WHAT ROVER FOUND. 
 
 u Adah," was the response, and the brown eyes 
 ming with tears, sought the face of the questioner 
 wistful eagerness. 
 
 "Adah, you say. Well, then, Adah, why ha 
 come to my son on such a night as this, and what 
 you?" 
 
 " Are you his mother ? " and Adah started up. 
 not know he had one. " Oh, I'm so glad. And ; 
 kind to me, who never had a mother ? " 
 
 A person who never had a mother was an ano 
 Mrs. Worthington, whose powers of comprehensi 
 not the clearest imaginable. 
 
 " Never had a mother ! " she repeated. u How 
 be?" 
 
 A smile flitted for a moment across Adah's pa 
 and then she answered, 
 
 " I never knew a mother's care, I mean. There some 
 mystery which I could not fathom, only sometim 
 comes up visions of a cottage with water near, anc 
 a lady there with voice and eyes like yours, and so 
 is teaching me to walk somebody who calls n 
 sister, though I've never seen him since. Then 
 confusion, a rolling of wheels, and a hum of sora 
 city, and that's all I know of mother." 
 
 21 
 
 n ra 
 th a 
 
 you 
 e to 
 
 did 
 
 11 be 
 
 y to 
 tvere 
 
 that 
 face, 
 
 here 
 
 ittle 
 re is 
 rreat 
 
 said 
 the 
 
 u But your father? What do you know of him 
 Mrs. Worthington, and instantly a shadow stole 
 sweet young face, as Adah replied, " Nothing defi 
 
 " And Hugh^^flBtere did you meet him ? A Jwhat 
 is he to you fl ^ 
 
 [got in the wide world. May I 
 
 I 
 
 is to you and to thisfhild, 7 ' 
 es flashing with a glon, be- 
 r an instant quailej then 
 were called to lifen her 
 
22 HUGH WCRTHINGTON-. 
 
 " Your brother might not like me to tell. I must see 
 him first see him alone." 
 
 " One thing more," and 'Lina held back her mother, 
 who was starting in quest of Hugh, " are you a wife ? " 
 
 "Don't, 'Lina," Mrs. Worthington whispered, as she 
 saw the look of agony pass over Adah's face. "Don't 
 worry her so ; deal kindly by the fallen." 
 
 " I am not fallen ! " came passionately from the quiver 
 ing lips. x< I'm as true a woman as either of you 
 look ! " and she pointed to the golden band encircling the 
 third finger. 
 
 'Lina was satisfied, and needed no further explanations. 
 To her, it was plain as daylight. Two years before Hugh 
 had gone to New York on business connected with his 
 late uncle's affairs, and in an unguarded moment had mar 
 ried some poor girl, whose pretty face had pleased his fan 
 cy. Tiring of her, as of course he would, he had desert 
 ed her, keeping his marriage a secret, and she had followed 
 him to Spring Bank. These were the facts as 'Lina read 
 them, and though she despised her brother for it, she was 
 more than half glad. Hugh could never taunt her again 
 with double dealing, for wouldn't she pay him back if he 
 did, with his neglected, disowned wife and child ? She 
 knew they were his, and it was a resemblance to Hugh, 
 which she had noticed from the first in Willie's face. 
 How glad 'Lina was to have this hold upon her brother, 
 and how eagerly she went in quest of him, keeping back 
 old Chloe and Hannah until she had witnessed his humili 
 ation. 
 
 Somewhat impatient of the long delay, Hugh sat in the 
 dingy kitchen, watching the tallow candle spluttering in 
 its iron socket, and wondering who it was he had rescued 
 from the snow, when 'Lina appeared, and with an air of 
 injured dignity, bade him follow her. 
 
 " What's up now that Ad looks so solemn like ? " was 
 Hugh's mental comment as he took his way to the room 
 
WHAT ROVER FOUND. 23- 
 
 where, in a half reclining position Adah lay, her large, 
 bright eyes fixed eagerly upon the door through which 
 he entered, and a bright flush upon her cheek called up 
 by the suspicions to which she had been subjected. 
 
 Perhaps they might be true. She did not know. No 
 body knew or could tell her unless it were Hugh, and she 
 waited for him so anxiously, starting when she heard a 
 manly step and knew that he was coming. For an in 
 stant she scanned his face curiously to assure herself that 
 it was he, then with an imploring cry as if for him to 
 save her from some dreaded evil she stretched her little 
 hands toward him and sobbed, " Mr. Worthington, was it 
 true ? Was it a real thing, or only sheer mockery, as his 
 letter said ? George, George Hastings, you know," and 
 shedding back from her white face the wealth of flowing 
 hair, Adah waited for the answer, which did not come at 
 once. In utter amazement Hugh gazed upon the stranger, 
 and then with an interjection of astonishment, exclaimed, 
 
 " Adah, Adah Hastings, why are you here ? " 
 
 In the tone of his voice surprise was mingled with dis 
 approbation, the latter of which Adah detected at once, 
 and as if it had crushed out the last lingering hope, she 
 covered her face with her hands and sobbed piteously, 
 
 " Don't you turn, against me, or I'll surely die, and I've 
 come so far to find you." 
 
 By this time Hugh was himself again. His rapid, 
 quick-seeing mind had taken in both the past and the 
 present, and turning to his mother and sister, he said, 
 
 " Leave us 'alone for a time. I will call you when you 
 are needed and, Ad, remember, no listening by the door," 
 he continued, as he saw how disappointed 'Lina seemed. 
 
 Rather reluctantly Mrs. Worthington and her daughter 
 left the room, and Hugh was alone with Adah, whose 
 face was still hidden in her hands, and whose body shook 
 with strong emotion. Deliberately turning the key in the 
 lock, Hugh advanced to her side, and kneeling by the 
 
24 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 couch, said, kindly, " I am more pained to see you here 
 than I can well express. Why did you come, and where 
 is ?" 
 
 The name was lost to 'Lina, listening outside, in spite 
 of her brother's injunction. Neither could she under 
 stand the passionate, inaudible response. She only knew 
 that sobs and tears were mingled with it, that there was 
 a rustling of paper, which Adah bade Hugh read, asking 
 if it were* true. This was all 'Lina could hear, and mut 
 tering to herself, " It does not sound much like man and 
 and wife," she rather unwillingly quitted her position, and 
 and Hugh was really alone with Adah. 
 
 Never was Hugh in so awkward a position before, or so 
 uncertain how to act. The sight of that sobbing, trem 
 bling, wretched creature, had perfectly unmanned him, 
 making him almost as much a woman as herself. Sitting 
 down by her side, he laid her poor aching head upon his 
 own broad bosom, and pushing back her long, bright hair, 
 tried to soothe her into quiet, while he candidly confessed 
 that he feared the letter was true. It had occurred to 
 him at the time, he said, that all was not right, but he had 
 no suspicion that it could be so bad as it now seemed or 
 he would have felled to the floor every participant in the 
 cruel farce, which had so darkened Adah's life. It was a 
 dastardly act, he said, pressing closer to him the light 
 form quivering with anguish. He knew how innocent 
 she was, and he held her in his arms as he would once 
 have held the Golden Haired had she come to him with 
 a tale of woe. 
 
 " Let me see that letter again," he said, and taking the 
 crumpled sheet, stained with Adah's tears, he turned it to 
 the light and read once more the cruel lines, in which 
 there was still much of love and pity for the poor, helpless 
 thing, to whom they were addressed. 
 
 "You will surely find friends who will care for you, 
 until the time when I may come to really make you 
 mine." 
 
WHAT ROVER FOUND. 25 
 
 Hugh repeated these words twice, aloud, his lip curling 
 with contempt for the man who could so coolly thrust up 
 on others a charge which should have been so sacred ; and 
 his heart, throbbing with the noble resolve, that the confi 
 dence she had placed in him by coining there, should not 
 be abused, for he would be true to the trust, and care for 
 poor, little, half-crazed Adah, moaning so piteously beside 
 him, and as he read the last line, saying eagerly, 
 
 " He speaks of coming back. Do you think he ever 
 will ? or could I find him if I should try ? I thought of 
 starting once, but it was so far ; and there was Willie. 
 Oh, if he could see Willie ! Mr. Worthington, do you 
 believe he loves me one bit ? " and in the eyes there was 
 a look as if the poor creature were famishing for the love 
 whose existence she was questioning. 
 
 Hugh did not understand the nature of a love which 
 could so deliberately abandon one like Adah. It was not 
 such love as he had cherished for the Golden Haired, 
 but men were not alike; and so he said, at last, that the 
 letter contained many assurances of affection, and plead 
 ings for forgiveness for the great wrong committed. 
 
 " It seems family pride has something to do with it. I 
 wonder where his people live, or who they are ? Did he 
 never tell you ? " 
 
 " No ; " and Adah shook her head mournfully. " There 
 was something strange about if. He never gave me the 
 slightest clue. He only told how proud they were, and 
 how they would spurn a poor girl like me ; and said, we 
 must keep it a secret until he had won them over. If I 
 could only find them ! " 
 
 " Would you go to them ? " Hugh asked quickly ; and 
 Adah answered, 
 
 " Sometimes I've thought I would. I'd brave his proud 
 
 mother I'd lay Willie in her lap. I'd tell her whose he 
 
 was, and then I'd go away and die. They could not harm 
 
 my Willie ! " and the young girl mother glanced proudly 
 
 2 
 
26 HUGH WORTHINGTOX. 
 
 at her sleeping boy. Then, after a pause, she continued, 
 " Once, Mr. Worthington, when my brain was all on fire, 
 I went down to the river, and said I'd end my wretched 
 life, but God, who was watching me, held me back. He 
 cooled my scorching head he eased the pain, and on 
 the very spot where I meant to jump, I kneeled down and 
 said, ' Our Father.' No other words would come, only 
 these, c Lead us not into temptation.' Wasn't it kind in 
 God to save me ? " 
 
 There was a radiant expression in the sweet face as Adah 
 said this, but it quickly passed away and was succeeded 
 by one of deep concern, when Hugh abruptly asked, 
 
 Do you believe in God ? " 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Worthington. Don't you? You do, you 
 must, you will," and Adah shrank away from him as from 
 a monster. 
 
 The action reminded him of the Golden Haired, when 
 on the deck of the St. Helena he had asked her a similar- 
 question, and anxious further to probe the opinion of the 
 girl beside him, he continued, 
 
 "If, as you think, there is a God who knew and saw 
 when you were about to drown yourself, why didn't he 
 prevent the cruel wrong to you? Why did he suffer 
 it?" 
 
 " What He does we know not now, but we shall know 
 hereafter," Adah said, reverently, adding, " If George had 
 feared God, he would not have left me so ; but he didn't, 
 and perhaps he says there is no God but you don't, 
 Mr. Worthington. Your face don't look like it. Tell me 
 you believe," and in her eagerness Adah grasped his arm 
 beseechingly. 
 
 " Yes, Adah, I believe," Hugh answered, half jestingly, 
 " but it's such as you that make me believe, and as per 
 sons of your creed think every thing is ordered for good, 
 so possibly you were permitted to suffer that you might 
 come here and benefit me. I think I must keep you, until 
 he is found." 
 
WHAT ROVER FOUND. 27 
 
 " No, no," and the tears flowed at once, " I cannot be a 
 burthen to you. I have no claim." 
 
 " Why then did you come at all ? " Hugh asked, and 
 Adah answered, 
 
 " For a time after I received the letter every thing was 
 so dark that I didn't realize, and couldn't think of any 
 thing. But when the landlady hinted those terrible 
 things, and finally told me I must leave to give place to 
 a respectable woman, th'at's just what she said, a respecta 
 ble woman, with a child who knew its own father, then I 
 woke up and tried to think of something, but the more I 
 tried, the more I couldn't, till at last I prayed so hard one 
 night, that God would tell me what to do, and suddenly 
 I remembered you and your good, kind, honest face, just 
 as it looked when you spoke to me after it was over, and 
 called me by the new name. Oh, dear, oh, dear," and 
 gasping for breath, Adah leaned against Hugh's arm, sob 
 bing bitterly. 
 
 After a moment she grew calm again, and continued, 
 
 " I wrote down your name, and where you lived, though 
 'why I did not know, and I forgot where I put it, but as if 
 God really were helping me I found it in my old port folio, 
 and something bade me come, for you perhaps would 
 know if it was true. It was sometime before I could 
 fully decide to come, and in that time I hardly know how I 
 lived, or where. George left me money, and sent more, 
 but it's most gone now. But I must not stay. I can 
 take care of myself. 
 
 " What can you do ? " Hugh asked, and Adah replied, 
 sadly, 
 
 " I don't know, but God will find me something. I 
 never worked much, but I can learn, and I can already 
 sew neatly, too ; besides that, a few days before I deci 
 ded to come here, I advertised in the Herald for some 
 place as governess or ladies' waiting-maid. Perhaps I'll 
 hear from that." 
 
28 HUGH \VORTHHSTGTON. 
 
 " It's hardly possible. Such advertisements are thick 
 as blackberries," Hugh said, and then in a few brief 
 words, he marked out Adah's future course. 
 
 George Hastings might or might not return to claim 
 her, and whether he did or didn't, she must live meantime, 
 and where so well as at Spring Bank. 
 
 " I do not like women much," he said, but something 
 makes me like you, pity, I reckon, and I'm going to take 
 care of you until that scoundrel turns up ; then, if you 
 say so, I'll surrender you to his care, or better yet, I'll 
 shoot him and keep you to myself. Not as a sweetheart, 
 or anything of that kind," he hastened to add, as he saw 
 the flush on Adah's cheek. " Hugh Worthington has 
 nothing to do with that species of the animal kingdom, 
 but as my sister Adah ! " and as Hugh repeated that name, 
 there arose in his great heart an undefinable wish that 
 the gentle girl beside him had been his sister instead of 
 the high tempered Adaline, who never tried to conciliate 
 or understand him, and whom Hugh could not love as 
 brothers should love sisters. 
 
 He knew how impatiently she was Waiting now to know 
 the result of that interview, and just how much opposition 
 he should meet when he announced his intention of keep 
 ing Adah. But Hugh was master of Spring Bank ; his 
 will was all powerful, and not an entire world could move 
 him when once he was determined. Still contention was 
 not agreeable, and he oftentimes yielded a point rather 
 than dispute. But this time he was firm. Without any 
 intention of wronging Adah, he still felt as if in some 
 way he had been instrumental to her ruin, and now when 
 she came to him for help, he would not cast her ofl 
 though the keeping her would subject him to a multitude 
 of unpleasant remarks, surmises and suspicions from the 
 people of Glen's Creek, to say nothing of his mother's 
 and 'Lina's displeasure. Added to this was another ob 
 jection, a serious one, which most men would have 
 
WHAT KOVEB FOUND. 29 
 
 weighed carefully before deciding to burden themselves 
 with two additional individuals. Though the owner of 
 Spring Bank, Hugh was far from being rich, and many 
 were the shifts and self denials he was obliged to make 
 to meet the increased expense entailed upon him by his 
 mother and sister. John Stanley had been accounted 
 wealthy, but at his death there was nothing left, save a 
 few acres of nearly worn out land, the old dilapidated 
 house, and a dozen or more negroes. With good man 
 agement this was amply sufficient to supply Hugh's limit 
 ed wants, and he was looking forward to a life of careless 
 ease, when his mother from New England wrote, asking 
 for a home. Hugh did net know then as well as he did 
 now what it would cost to keep a young lady of his sis 
 ter's habits. He only knew that his home was far differ 
 ent from the New England one he remembered so well, 
 but such as it was he would share it with his mother and 
 sister, and so he had bidden them, welcome, concealing 
 from them as far as possible the trouble he oftentimes had 
 to meet the increased demand for money which their pres 
 ence brought. This to a certain extent was the secret of his 
 patched boots, his threadbare coat and coarse pants, with 
 which 'Lina so often taunted him, saying he wore them 
 just to be stingy and mortify her, when in fact necessity 
 rather than choice was the cause of his shabby appear 
 ance. He had never told her so, however, never said that 
 the unfashionable coat so offensive to her fastidious vision 
 was worn that she might be the better clothed and fed. 
 Yet such was the case, and now he was deliberately ad 
 ding to his already heavy burden. But Hugh was capa 
 ble of great self sacrifices. He could manage somehow, 
 and Adah should stay. He would say that she was a 
 friend whom he had known in New York ; that her hus 
 band had deserted her, and in her distress she had come 
 to him for aid ; for the rest he trusted that time and her 
 
30 HUGH WORTHINGTOJST. 
 
 own appearance would wear away any unpleasant impres 
 sions which her presence might create. 
 
 All this he explained to Adah, who assented tacitly, 
 thinking within herself that she should not long remain 
 at Spring Bank, a dependant upon one on whom she had no 
 claim. She was too weak now, however, to oppose him, 
 and merely nodding to his suggestions laid her head upon 2 
 the arm of the lounge with a low cry that she was sick 
 and warm. Stepping to the door Hugh turned the key 
 and summoning the group waiting anxiously in the adjoin 
 ing room, bade them come at once, as Mrs. Hastings ap 
 peared to be fainting. Great emphasis he laid upon the 
 Mrs. and catching it up at once 'Lina repeated, " Mrs. 
 Hastings ! So am I just as much." 
 
 " Ad," and the eyes which shone so softly on poor Adah 
 flashed with gleams of fire as Hugh said to his sister* 
 " not another word against that girl if you wish to remain 
 here longer. She has been unfortunate." 
 
 " I guessed as much," sneeringly interrupted 'Lina. 
 
 " Silence ! " and Hugh's foot came down as it sometimes 
 did when chiding a refractory negro. " She is as true, yes 
 truer than you. He who should have protected her has 
 basely deserted her. And I shall care for her. See that 
 a fire is kindled in the west chamber, and go up yourself 
 when it is % made and see that all is comfortable. Do you 
 understand?" and he gazed sternly at 'Lina, who was too 
 much astonished to answer, even if she had been so dis 
 posed. 
 
 That Hugh should take in a beggar from the streets was 
 bad enough, but to keep her, and worse yet to put her in 
 the best chamber, where ex-Governor Russ had slept ; and 
 where was nailed down the carpet, brought from New 
 England was preposterous, and Hugh was certainly 
 crazy. But never was man more sane than Hugh ; and 
 seeing her apparently incapable of carrying out his orders, 
 he himself sent Hannah to build the fire, bidding her, with 
 
WHAT ROVER FOUND. 81 
 
 all a woman s forethought, be careful that the bed was aired, 
 and clothes enough put on. " Take a blanket from my 
 bed, if necessary," he added, as Hannah, bewildered with 
 the " carryin's on," disappeared up the staircase, a long line 
 of smoke streaming behind her. 
 
 When all was ready, Hugh went for Adah, and taking 
 her in his arms carried her to the upper chamber, where 
 the fire was burning brightly, casting cheerful shadows 
 upon the wall, and making Adah smile gratefully, as she 
 Looked up in his face, and murmured, 
 
 " God bless you, Mr. Worthington ! Adah will pray for 
 you to-night, when she is alone. It's all that she can do." 
 
 They laid her upon the bed. Hugh himself arranging 
 her pillows, which no one else appeared inclined to touch. 
 
 Family opinion was against her, innocent and beautiful 
 as she looked lying there so helpless, so still, with her 
 long-fringed lashes shading her colorless cheek, and her 
 little hands folded upon her bosom, as if already she were 
 breathing the promised prayer for Hugh. Only in Mrs. 
 Worthington's heart was there a chord of sympathy. She 
 couldn't help feeling for the desolate stranger ; and when, 
 at her own request, Hannah placed Willie in her lap, ere 
 laying him by his mother, she gave him an involuntary hug, 
 and touched her lips to his fat, round cheek. It was the 
 first kiss given him at Spring Bank, and it was meet that 
 it should come from her. 
 
 " He looks as you did, Hugh, when you were a baby," 
 she said, while Chloe rejoined, 
 
 " De very spawn of Mar's Hugh, now. I 'tected it de 
 fust minit. Can't cheat dis chile," and, with a chuckle, 
 which she meant to be very expressive, the fat old wo 
 man waddled from the room, followed by Hannah, who 
 was to sleep there that night, and who must first return 
 to her cabin to make the necessary preparations for her 
 vigils. 
 
32 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 Hugh and his mother were alone, and turning to her 
 son, Mrs. Worthington said, gently, 
 
 " This is sad business, Hugh ; worse than you imagine. 
 Do you kndw how folks will talk?" 
 
 " Let them talk," Hugh growled. " It cannot be much 
 worse than it is now. Nobody cares for Hugh Worthing 
 ton ; and why should they, when his own mother and sis 
 ter are against him, in actions if not in words? one 
 sighing when his name is mentioned, as if he really were 
 the most provoking son that ever was born, and the other 
 openly berating him as a monster, a clown, a savage, a 
 scarecrow, and all that. I tell you, mother, there is but 
 little to encourage me in the kind of life I'm leading 
 Neither you nor Ad have tried to make anything of me 
 or have done me any good ; but somehow, I feel as if she 
 would," and he pointed to the now sleeping Adah. " At 
 all events, I know it's right to keep her, and I want you 
 to hejp me, will you? , That is, will you be kind to her; 
 and when folks speak against her, as they may, will you 
 stand for her as for your own daughter? She's more like 
 you than Ad," and Hugh gazed wonderingly from one to 
 the other, struck, for the first time, with a resemblance, 
 fancied or real, between the two. 
 
 Mrs. Worthington did not heed this last, so intent was 
 she on the first of Hugh's remarks. Choking with tears 
 she said, 
 
 " You wrong me, Hugh ; I do try to make something 
 of you. You are a dear child to me, dearer than the oth 
 er ; but I'm a weak woman, and 'Lina sways me at will." 
 
 A kind word unmanned Hugh at once, and kneeling by 
 his mother, he put his arms around her, arid begging for 
 giveness for his harsh words, asked again a mother's care 
 for Adah. 
 
 " Hugh," and Mrs. Worthington looked him steadily in 
 the face, "is Adah your wife, or Willie your child ?" 
 
 " Great guns, mother! " and Hugh started to his feet as 
 
WHAT ROYEK FOUND. 33 
 
 quick as if a bomb shell had exploded at his side. " No ! 
 by all that's sacred, no ! Upon my word, you look sorry 
 instead of glad ! Are you sorry, mother, to find me bet 
 ter than you imagined it possible for a bad boy like me 
 to be?" 
 
 " No, Hugh, not sorry. I was only thinking that I've 
 sometimes fancied that, as a married man, you might be 
 happier; and when this woman came so strangely, 
 and you seemed so interested, I did'nt know, I rather 
 thought " 
 
 " I know," and Hugh interrupted her. " You thought 
 maybe, I raised Ned when I was in New York ; and, as a 
 proof of said resurrection, Mrs. Ned and Ned junior, had 
 come with their baggage. But it is not so, she does not 
 belong to me," and going up to his mother he told her all 
 he knew of Adah, adding, " Now will you be kind to her 
 for my sake ? and when Ad rides her highest horse, as 
 she is sure to do, will you smooth her down ? Tell her 
 Adah has as good right here as she, if I choose to keep 
 her." 
 
 There was a faint remonstrance on Mrs. Worthington's 
 part, her argument being based upon what folks would 
 say, and Hugh's inability to take care of many more. 
 
 Hugh did not care a picayune for folks, and as for 
 Adah, if his mother did not wish her there, and he pre 
 sumed she did not, he'd get her boarded for the present 
 with Aunt Eunice, who, like himself, was invincible to 
 public opinion she needed just such a companion. She'd 
 be a mother to Adah, and Adah a daughter to her, so 
 they needn't spend further time in talking, for he was 
 getting tired." 
 
 Mrs. Worthington was much more easily won over to 
 Hugh's opinion than 'Lina, who, when told of the arrange 
 ment, raised a perfect hurricane of expostulations and 
 tears. They'd be a county talk, she said ; nobody would 
 come near them,*and she might as well enter a nunnery 
 2* 
 
34 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 at once ; besides, hadn't Hugh enough on his hands al 
 ready without taking more ? 
 
 " If my considerate sister really thinks so, hadn't she 
 better try and help herself a little ? " retorted Hugh in a 
 blaze of anger. " I've only paid two hundred and fifty 
 dollars for her since she came here, to say nothing of 
 that bill at Harney's due in January." 
 
 'Lina began to cry, and Hugh, repenting of his harsh 
 speech as soon as it was uttered, but far too proud to take 
 it back, strode up and down the room, chafing like a 
 young lion. 
 
 " Come, children, it's after midnight, let us adjourn 
 until to-morrow," Mrs. Worthington said, by way of end 
 ing the painful interview, at the same time handing a can 
 dle to Hugh, who took it silently and withdrew, banging 
 the door behind him with a force which made 'Lina start 
 and burst into a fresh flood of tears. 
 
 " I'm a brute, a savage, was Hugh's not very self com 
 plimentary soliloquy, as he went up the stairs. " What 
 did I want to twit Ad for? What good did it do, only 
 to make her mad and bother mother ? I wish I could do 
 better, but I can't. Confound my badness ! " and having 
 by this time reached his own door, Hugh entered his room, 
 and drawing a chair to the fire always kindled for him 
 at night, sat down to think. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HUGH'S SOLILOQUY. 
 
 " One, two, three, yes, as good as four women and a 
 child," he began, " to say nothing of the negroes, who all 
 must eat and drink. A goodly number for one whose 
 income is hardly as much as some young men spend 
 
HUGH'S SOLILOQUY. 35 
 
 every year upon themselves ; and the hardest of all is 
 the having people call me stingy and mean, the seeing 
 young girls lift their eyebrows and wink when young 
 Hunks, as Ad says they call me, appears, and the know 
 ing that this opinion of me is encouraged and kept alive 
 by the remarks and insinuations of my own sister, for 
 whom I've denied myself more than one new coat that 
 she might have the dress she coveted," and in the red 
 gleam of the fire-light the bearded chin quivered for a 
 moment as Hugh thought how unjust 'Lina was to him, 
 and how hard was the lot imposed upon him. 
 
 Soon recovering his composure he continued, " There's 
 that bill at Harney's, how in the world I'm to pay it when 
 it comes due is more than I know. These duds," and he 
 glanced ruefully at his coarse clothes, " will look a heap 
 worse than they do now, and shifting the position of his 
 feet, which had hitherto rested upon the hearth, to a more 
 comfortable and suggestive one upon the mantel, Hugh 
 tried to find a spot in which he could economize. 
 
 " I needn't have a fire in my room nights," he said, as a 
 coal fell into the pan and thus reminded him of its exis 
 tence, " and I won't, either. It's nonsense for a great hot- 
 blooded clown like me to be babied with a fire. I've no 
 tags to braid, no false switches to comb out and hide, only 
 a few buttons to undo, a shake or so, and I'm all right. 
 So there's one thing, the fire quite an item, too, at the 
 rate coal is selling. Then there's coffee. I can do without 
 that, I suppose, though it will be perfect torment to smell 
 it, and Hannah makes such splendid coffee, too ; but will 
 is everything. Fire, coffee I'm getting on famously. 
 What else?" 
 
 " Tobacco" something whispered, but Hugh answered 
 promptly, " No, sir, I shan't ! I'll sell my shirts, before 
 I'll give up my best friend. It's all the comfort I have 
 when I get a fit of the blues. Oh, you needn't try to come 
 it ! " and Hugh shook his head defiantly at his unseen inter- 
 
36 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 locator, urging that 'twas a filthy practice at best, and 
 productive of no good. "You needn't try for I won't," 
 and Hugh deliberately lighted a cigar and resumed his 
 soliloquy, while he complacently watched the little blue 
 rings curling so gracefully above his head. "Blamed if 
 I can think of any thing else, but maybe I shall. I might 
 sell something, I suppose. There's Harney wants to buy 
 Bet, but Ad never rides any other horse, and she does ride 
 uncommonly well, if she is Ad. There's the negroes, more 
 than I need," but from this suggestion Hugh turned away 
 quite as decidedly as from the one touching his tobacco 
 " He didn't believe much in negroes any way, surely not 
 in selling them ; besides that, nobody'd want them after 
 they'd been spoiled as he had spoiled them," and he laughed 
 aloud as he fancied a new master trying to break in old 
 Chloe, who had ruled at Spring Bank so long that she al 
 most fancied she owned it. No, Hugh wouldn't sell his 
 servants, and the negroes sleeping so soundly in their cab 
 ins had nothing to fear from him. 
 
 Horses were suggested again. " You have other horses 
 than Bet," and Hugh was conscious of a pang which wrung 
 from him a groan, for his horses were his idols, and parting 
 with them would be like severing a right hand. It was too 
 terrible to think about, and Hugh dismissed it as an alter 
 native which might have to be considered another time. 
 Then hope made her voice heard above the little blue imps 
 tormenting him so sadly. 
 
 " He should get along somehow. Something would turn 
 up. Ad might marry and go away. He knew it was 
 wrong, and yet he could not help thinking it would be 
 nice to come home some day and not find her there, with 
 her fault-finding, and her sarcastic remarks. What made 
 her so different from his mother so different from the 
 little sister he always remembered with a throb of delight? 
 He had Ipved her, and be thought of her now as she used 
 
HUGH'S SOLILOQUY. 37 
 
 to look in her dainty white frocks, with the strings of coral 
 he had bought with nuts picked on the New England hills. 
 
 He used to kiss her chubby arms kiss the rosy cheeks, 
 and the soft brown hair. But that hair had changed sad 
 ly since the days when its owner had first lisped his name, 
 and called him " Ugh," for the bands and braids coiled 
 around 'Lina's head were black as midnight. Not less 
 changed than Lina's tresses was 'Lina herself, and Hugh 
 had often felt like crying for the little baby sister, so lost 
 and dead to him in her young womanhood. What had 
 changed Ad so ? To be sure he did not care much for 
 females any way, but if Ad were half way decent, and 
 would let him, he should love her, he presumed. Other 
 young men loved their sisters. There was Bob Reynolds 
 seemed to idolize his, crippled though she was, and he had 
 mourned so bitterly, when she died, bending over her cof 
 fin, and kissing her white face. Would Hugh do so to 
 Ad ? He thought it very doubtful ! though, he supposed, 
 he should feel sorry and mourn some, but he'd bet he 
 wouldn't wear a very wide band of crape around his hat ; 
 he couldn't afford it ! Still he should remember all the 
 harsh things he had said to her, and be so sorry. 
 
 There was many a tender spot in Hugh Worthington's 
 heart, and shadow after shadow flitted across his face as 
 ho thought how cheerless was his life, and how little 
 there was in his surroundings to make him happy. Poor 
 Hugh ! It was a dreary picture he drew as he sat alone 
 that night, brooding orer his troubles, and listening to the 
 moan of the wintry wind the only sound he heard, ex 
 cept the rattling of the shutters and the creaking of the 
 timbers, as the old house rocked in the December gale. 
 
 Suddenly there crept into his mind Adah's words, "I 
 shall pray for you to-night." Would she ? Had she 
 prayed for him, and did prayers do any good ? Was any 
 one bettered by them ? Golden Hair had thought so, and 
 he was sure she had talked with God of him, but since 
 
38 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 the waters closed over her dear head, no one had remem 
 bered Hugh Worthington in that way, he was sure. But 
 Adah would, and Hugh's heart grew stronger as he 
 thought of Adah praying for him. What would she say ? 
 How would she word it ? He wished he knew, but pray 
 er was strange to Hugh. He never prayed, and the Bible 
 given by Golden Hair had not been opened this many a 
 day, but he would do so now, and unlocking the trunk 
 where it was hidden, he took it from its concealment and 
 opened it reverently, half wondering what he should read 
 first and if it would have any reference to his present 
 position. 
 
 " Inasmuch as ye did it to the least of these ye did it 
 unto me." 
 
 That was what Hugh read in the dim twilight, that, the 
 passage on which the lock of hair lay, and the Bible 
 dropped from his hands as he whispered, 
 
 " Golden Hair, are you here ? Did you point that out 
 to me ? Does it mean Adah ? Is the God you loved on 
 earth pleased that I should care for her ? " 
 
 To these queries, there came no answer, save the mourn 
 ful wailing of the night wincj roaring down the chimney 
 and past the sleet-covered window, but Hugh was a hap 
 pier man for reading that, and had there before existed a 
 doubt as to his duty toward Adah, this would have swept 
 it away. Bending closer to the fire, Hugh read the chap 
 ter through, wondering why he should feel so much better, 
 and why the world looked brighter than it had an hour 
 before. If it made folks feel so nice to read a little bit in 
 the Bible, how would they feel to read it through ? He 
 meant to try and see, beginning at Genesis the very next 
 night, and hiding his treasure away, Hugh sought his pil 
 low just as the first greyish streak of daylight was begin 
 ning to show in the east. 
 
TERRACE HILL. 39 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 TERRACE HILL. 
 
 The storm which visited Kentucky so wrathfully was 
 far milder among the New England hills, and in the vicin 
 ity of Snowdon, whither our story now tends, was scarcely 
 noticed, save as an ordinary winter's storm. There were 
 no drifts against the fences, no driving sleet, no sheets of 
 ice covering the valleys, nothing save a dark, sour, dreary 
 day, when the grey December clouds seemed wading in 
 the piles of snow, which, as the sun went down, began to 
 fall in those small misty flakes, which betoken a storm of 
 some duration. As yet it had been comparatively warmer 
 in New England than in Kentucky; and Miss Anna Rich 
 ards, confirmed invalid though she was, had decided not 
 to take her usual trip to the South, so comfortable was she 
 at home, in her accustomed chair, with her pretty crimson 
 shawl wrapped around her. Besides that, they were ex 
 pecting her brother John from Paris, where he had been 
 for the last eighteen months, pursuing his medical profes 
 sion, and she must be there to welcome him. 
 
 Anna was proud of her young, handsome brother, for 
 on him and his success in life, all their future hopes were 
 pending. 
 
 All were proud of John, and all had petted and spoiled 
 him, from his precise lady mother, down to invalid Anna, 
 who, more than any one else, was anxious for his return, 
 and who had entered, with a good deal of interest into 
 the preparations which, for a week or more, had kept 
 Terrace Hill Mansion in a state of bustle and excitement, 
 for John was so refined and fastidious in his tastes, that 
 he was sure to notice if aught were amiss or out of place. 
 
40 HUGH WOETIIINGTOJS". 
 
 Consequently great pains was taken with his room, while 
 Anna, who had a private purse of her own, went into the 
 extravagance of furnishing a new carpet of more modern 
 style than the heavy, old-fashioned Brussels, which for 
 years, had covered the floor. 
 
 John had never been very happy at home and hence 
 the efforts they were putting forth to make it attractive to 
 him after his long absence. He could not help liking it 
 now, the ladies said to each other, as, a few days before 
 his arrival, they rode from the village, up the winding 
 terraced hill, admiring the huge stone building embosom 
 ed in evergreens, and standing out so distinctly against 
 the wintry sky. And Terrace Hill Mansion was a very 
 handsome place, exciting the envy and admiration of the 
 villagers, who could remember a time when it had looked 
 better even than it did now when the house was often- 
 er full of city company, when high-born ladies rode up and 
 down in carriages, or dashed on horseback through the 
 park and off into leafy woods when sounds of festivity 
 were heard in the halls from year's end to year's end, and 
 the lights in the parlors were rarely extinguished, or the 
 fires on the hearth put out. This was during the lifetime 
 of its former owner, whose covering had been the tall green 
 grass of Snowdon cemetery for several years. With his 
 death there had come a change to the inhabitants of Ter 
 race Hill, a curtailing of expenses, a gradual dropping of 
 the swarms of friends who had literally fed upon them dur 
 ing the summer and autumn months. In short it was 
 whispered now that the ladies of Terrace Hill were restrict 
 ed in their means, that there was less display of dress and 
 style, fewer fires, and lights, and servants, and an apparent 
 desire to be left to themselves. 
 
 This was what the village people whispered, and none 
 knew the truth of the whisperings better than the ladies 
 in question, or shrank more from having their affairs 
 canvassed by those whom they looked down upon, even if 
 
TEEEACE HILL. 41 
 
 the glory of their house was departed. Mrs. Richards 
 and her elder daughters, Miss Asenatli and Eudorn, were 
 very proud, very exclusive, and but for the existence of 
 Anna, few of the villagers would ever have crossed their 
 threshold. Anna was a favorite in the village, and when 
 confined to her room for weeks, as she sometimes was, 
 there were more anxious enquiries concerning her than 
 would have been bestowed on Asenath and Eudora had 
 they both been dying. And yet in her early girlhood 
 she too had been cold and haughty, but since the morning 
 when she had knelt at her father's feet, and begged him 
 to revoke his cruel decision, and say she might be the 
 bride of a poor missionary, Anna had greatly changed, 
 and the father, had sometimes questioned the propriety 
 of separating the hearts which clung so tenaciously to 
 gether. But it was then too late to remedy the mistake. 
 The young missionary had married another, and neither 
 the parents nor the sisters ever forgot the look of anguish 
 which stole into Anna's face, when she heard the news. 
 She had told him to do so, it is true, for she knew a mis 
 sionary to be strictly useful must have a wife. She had 
 thought herself prepared, but the news was just as crush 
 ing when it came, accompanied though it was with a few 
 last lines from him, such as a husband might write to the 
 woman he had loved so much, and only given up because 
 he must. Anna kept this letter yet, reading it often to 
 herself, and wondering, if through all the changes which 
 fourteen years had wrought, the missionary remembered 
 her yet, and if they would ever meet again. This was 
 the secret of the numerous missionary papers and maga 
 zines scattered so profusely through the rooms at Terrace 
 Hill. Anna was interested in everything pertaining to 
 the work, though, it must be confessed, that her mind 
 wandered oftenest to the city of mosques and minarets, 
 where he was laboring ; and once, when she heard of a 
 little grave made with the Moslem dead, the grave of 
 
42 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 darling Anna, named for her, she wept bitterly, feeling as 
 if she, too, had been bereaved as well as the parents, 
 across the Eastern waters. This was sweet Anna Rich 
 ards, who, on the day of her brother's expected arrival 
 from Paris, dressed herself with unusual care and joined 
 her mother and elder sisters in the parlor below. It was 
 a raw, chilly evening, and a coal fire had been kindled in the 
 grate, the bright blaze falling on Anna's cheek, and light 
 ing it up with something like the youthful bloom for 
 which she had once been celebrated. The harsh expres 
 sion of Miss Asenath's face was softened down, while the 
 mother and Eudora looked anxiously expectant, and 
 Anna was the happiest of them all. Taken as a whole 
 it was a very pleasant family group, which sat there wait 
 ing for the foreign lion, and for the whistle of the engine 
 which was to herald his approach. 
 
 " I wonder if he has changed," said the mother, glanc 
 ing at the opposite mirror and arranging the pufis of 
 glossy false hair which shaded her aristocratic forehead. 
 
 " Of course he has," returned Miss Asenath. Nearly 
 two years of Paris society must have imparted to him that 
 air distingue so desirable in a young man who has travel 
 led." 
 
 " He'll hardly fail of making a good match now," Miss 
 Eudora remarked. " I think we must manage to visit 
 Saratoga or some of those places next summer. Mr. 
 Gardner found his wife at Newport, and they say she's 
 worth half a million." 
 
 "But horridly ugly," and Anna looked up from the 
 reverie in which she had been indulging. " Lottie says she 
 has tow hair and a face like a fish. John would never be 
 happy with such a wife." 
 
 " Possibly you think he had better have married that 
 sewing girl about whom he wrote us just before going to 
 Europe," Miss Eudora suggested. 
 
 " No, I don't," Anna answered, mildly. " I am almost 
 
TERRACE HILL. 43 
 
 as anxious as yourselves for him to marry rich, for I know 
 you need money sadly, and mj income is not so large as 
 for your sakes I wish it was, but poverty and love are 
 better than riches and hatred, and I have always felt a 
 strange interest in that young girl, whom I know John 
 loved, or he would never have written to see how we 
 would bear his taking a portionless bride." 
 
 "I told him plainly how J would bear it. She should 
 never cross my threshold," and the face of Mrs. Richards, 
 the mother, was highly indicative of the feeling she en 
 tertained for the young, penniless girl, whom it would 
 seem John Richards M. D., had thought to marry. 
 
 " I trust he is over that fancy," she continued, " and 
 ready to thank me for the strong letter I wrote him." 
 
 " Yes, but the girl," and Anna leaned her white cheek 
 in her whiter hand. " None of us know the harm his 
 leaving her may have done. Don't you remember he 
 wrote how much she loved him how gentle and confid 
 ing her nature was, how to leave her then might prove 
 her ruin?" 
 
 "Our little Anna is growing very , eloquent upon the 
 subject of sewing girls," Miss Asenath said, rather scorn 
 fully, and Anna rejoined, 
 
 " I am not sure she was a sewing girl. He spoke of 
 her as a school girl." 
 
 " But it is most likely he did that to mislead us," said 
 the mother. " The only boarding school he knows any 
 thing about is the one where Lottie was. He often visit 
 ed her, but I've questioned her closely, and she cannot 
 think of a single young lady whom he fancied more than 
 another. All were in love with him, she said, herself in 
 cluded. If he were not her uncle by marriage I should 
 not object to Lottie as a daughter," was the next remark, 
 whereupon there ensued a conversation touching the mer 
 its and demerits of a certain Lottie Gardner, whose father 
 had taken for a second wife Miss Laura Richards. 
 
44 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 During this discussion of Lottie," Anna had sat listless 
 ly looking up and down the columns of an old Herald 
 which Dick, Eudora's pet dog, had ferreted out from 1 the 
 table and deposited at her feet. She evidently was not 
 thinking of Lottie, nor yet of the advertisements, until 
 one struck her notice as being very singular from the fact 
 that a name was appended to it, a thing she had never 
 seen before. Holding it a little more to the light and 
 bending forward she said, " Possibly this is the very per 
 son I want one who will be either a companion or a 
 waiting-maid, only the child might be an objection, though 
 I do love the little things. Just listen," and Anna read 
 as follows : 
 
 i 
 
 "WANTED by an unfortunate young married woman, 
 with a child a few months old, a situation in a private family 
 either as governess, seamstress, or lady's maid. Country 
 preferred. Address " 
 
 Anna was about to say whom, when a violent ringing 
 of the bell and a heavy stamping of feet on the steps with, 
 out announced- an arrival, and the next moment a tall, 
 handsome young man, exceedingly Frenchified in his ap 
 pearance, entered the room, and was soon in the arms of his 
 mother, who, kissing his bearded cheek, welcomed him as 
 her son. 
 
 John, or Dr. Richards, did not care particularly to be 
 caressed by ladies unless he could choose them, and re 
 leasing himself as soon as practicable from his lady moth 
 er's embrace, he submitted himself a moment to his two el 
 der sisters, and then, hastening to where Anna sat, wound 
 his arms around her light figure, and lifting her as he would 
 have lifted a little child, kissed her white lips and looked 
 into her face with an expression which told that, however 
 indifferent he might be to others, he was not so to Anna. 
 
 " You have not changed for the worse," he said, replac 
 ing her in her chair and sitting down beside her. 
 
TERRACE HILL. 45 
 
 " And you are vastly improved," was Anna's answer, as 
 she smoothed playfully the Parisian mustache, her brother's 
 special pride. 
 
 Then commenced from mother and sisters a volley of 
 questions. Had he been well ? Did he like Paris ? Was 
 he glad to be home again ? And why had he gone off 
 without coming out to say good-bye ? 
 
 This last was put by his mother, who continued, " I 
 thought, perhaps, you were offended at my plain letter 
 concerning that girl; and resented it by not coining, but of 
 course you are glad now, and see that mother was right. 
 What could you have done with a wife in Paris ? " 
 
 " I should not have gone," John answered, moodily, a 
 shadow stealing over his face. 
 
 It was not good taste for Mrs. Richards thus early to in 
 troduce a topic on which John was really so sore, and for 
 a moment an awkward silence ensued, broken at last by 
 the mother again, who, feeling that all was not right, and 
 anxious to know if there was yet aught to fear from a poor, 
 unknown daughter-in-law, asked, hesitatingly, 
 
 " Have you seen her since your return ? " 
 
 She is dead was the reply, and then anxious to change 
 the conversation, the Doctor began talking to Anna until 
 the supper bell rang, and his mother led the way to the 
 dining room where a most inviting supper was prepared 
 in honor of the Doctors return. How handsome he look 
 ed in his father's place at the head of the table. How 
 gracefully he did the honors, and how proud all were of 
 him as he repeated little incidents of Parisian life, speak 
 ing of the Emperor and Eugenie as if they had been 
 every day sights to him. In figure and form the fair Em 
 press reminded him of Anna, he said, except that Anna 
 was the prettier of the two a compliment which Anna 
 acknowledged with a blush and a trembling of her long 
 eyelashes. It was a very pleasant family reunion, for John 
 did his best to be agreeable, and by the time they returned 
 
46 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 to the parlor his mother had quite forgiven him the fla 
 grant act of loving an unknown girl. 
 
 " Oh, John, please be careful where you tear that paper. 
 There's an advertisement I want to save," Anna exclaim 
 ed, as she saw her brother tearing a strip from the Herald 
 with which to light his cigar, but as she spoke, the smoke 
 and flame curled around the narrow strip, and Dr. Rich 
 ards had lighted his cigar with the name and address ap 
 pended to the advertisement which had so interested 
 Anna. 
 
 How disturbed she was when she found that nought 
 was left save the simple wants of the young girl who, 
 with a breaking heart had penned the lines, and who now 
 lay so still beneath a Kentucky rift of snow ! 
 
 " Let's see," and taking the mutilated sheet, Dr. Rich 
 ards read the " Wanted, by a young unfortunate marri 
 ed woman." 
 
 " That unfortunate may mean a great deal more than 
 you imagine," he said, in order to quiet his sister, who 
 quickly rejoined, 
 
 " Yes, but she distinctly says married. Don't you see, 
 and I had really some idea of writing to her, or at least 
 I think I had, now that 'tis too late." 
 
 " I'm sorry I was so careless, but there are a thousand 
 unfortunate women who would gladly be your maid, 
 little sister. I'll send you out a score, if you say so, 
 either with or without babies," and John laughed, as with 
 the utmost nonchalance he smoked the cigar lighted with 
 the name of Adah Hastings I 
 
 " Has any thing of importance occurred in this slow old 
 town ? " he inquired, after Anna had become reconciled to 
 her loss. Has there been any desirable addition to 
 Snowdon society ? " 
 
 "Yes," returned Anna. "A Mrs. Johnson, who is 
 every way cultivated and refined, while Alice is the 
 
TERRACE HILL. 47 
 
 sweetest girl I ever knew. You have a rare pleasure in 
 store in forming .their acquaintance. 
 
 " Whose, the old or the young lady's ? " John asked, 
 carelessly knocking the ashes from the end of his cigar. 
 
 " Both," was Anna's reply. " The mother is very 
 youthful in her appearance. Why, she scarcely looks 
 older than I do, and I, you know, am thirty-two." 
 
 As if fearful lest her own age should come next under 
 consideration, Miss Eudora hastened to say, 
 
 " Yes, Mrs. Johnson does look very young, and Alice 
 seems like a child, though I heard her say she was al 
 most twenty. Such beautiful hair as she has. It used to 
 be a bright yellow, or golden, so the old nurse says, but 
 now it has a darker, richer shade, midway between golden 
 and chestnut, while her eyes are the softest, handsomest 
 blue." 
 
 Alice Johnson was evidently a favorite at Terrace Hill, 
 and as this stamped her somebody John began to ask who 
 the Johnsons were, and where they came from. 
 - Mrs. Richard seemed disposed to answer these ques 
 tions, which she did as follows : 
 
 " Mrs. Johnson used to live in Boston, and her husband 
 was grandson of old Governor Johnson, one of the best 
 families in that State." 
 
 " Ah, yes," and John began to laugh. " I see now what 
 gives Miss Alice'-s hair that peculiar shade, and her eyes 
 that heavenly blue, over which my staid sister Dora waxed 
 so eloquent. Miss Alice is an ex-Governor's great grand 
 daughter but go on, mother, only come to Alice herselfj 
 and give her figure as soon as may be." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked Anna, who took things 
 literally. " I should suppose you'd care more for her face 
 than her form." 
 
 John smiled mischievously, while his mother continued, 
 
 " I fancy that Mrs. Johnson's family met with a reverse 
 of fortune before her marriage, but know nothing certain 
 
48 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 ly except that she was greatly beloved in Boston. Her 
 husband has been dead some years, and recently she has 
 bought and fitted up that pretty cottage down by the river. 
 I do not see her as often as I would like to, for I am great 
 ly pleased with her, although she has some habits of which 
 I cannot approve, such as associating with the poor of the 
 town to the extent she does. Why, I hear that Alice had 
 a party the other day consisting wholly of ragged ur 
 chins." 
 
 " They were her Sunday-school scholars," interposed 
 Anna. Alice has picked up a large class of children, who 
 before her coming, used to run the streets on Sundays 
 breaking up birds' nests and pilfering gardens. I am sure 
 we ought to be much obliged to her, for our fruit and 
 flowers are now comparatively safe." 
 
 " I vote that Anna goes on with Alice's history. She 
 gives it best," said John, and so Anna continued, 
 
 " There is but little to tell. Mrs. Johnson and her 
 daughter are both nice ladies, and I am sure you will like 
 them every body does; and rumor has already given 
 Alice to our young clergyman, Mr. Howard." 
 
 "And she is worth fifty thousand dollars, too," rejoined 
 Asenath, as if that were a powerful reason why a poor 
 clergyman should not aspire to her hand. 
 
 " I have her figure at last," said John, winking slily at 
 Anna, who only looked bewildered. And, the $50,000 
 did seem to make an impression on the young man, who 
 made numerous inquiries concerning the heiress, asking 
 how often she came to Terrace Hill, and where he would 
 be most likely to see her. 
 
 "At church," was Anna's reply. " She is always there, 
 and their pew joins ours." 
 
 Dr. Richards did not much like going to church, unless 
 it were where the music was grand and operatic. Still 
 lie had intended honoring the benighted Snowdonites with 
 a sight of himself for one half clay, though he knew he 
 
TERRACE HILL. 49 
 
 o 
 
 should be terribly bored ; but now the case was different^ 
 for besides being, to a certain extent, a kind of lion, he 
 should see Miss Alice, and he reflected with considerable 
 satisfaction that as this was Friday night, only one day 
 intervened ere his curiosity and that of the villagers would 
 be gratified. He was glad there was something new and 
 interesting in Snowdon in the shape of a pretty girl, for he . 
 did not care to return at once to New York, where he had 
 intended practising his profession. There were too many 
 sad memories clustering about that city to make it alto 
 gether desirable, but Dr. Richards was not yet a hardened 
 wretch, and thoughts of another than Alice Johnson, 
 crowded upon his mind as on that first evening of his return, 
 he sat answering questions and asking others of his own. 
 
 It was late ere the family group broke up, and the 
 storm beating so furiously upon Spring Bank, was just 
 making its voice heard round Terrace Hill Mansion, when 
 the doctor took the lamp the-. servant brought, and bid 
 ding his mother and sisters good-night, ascended the 
 stairs whither Anna, who kept early hours, had gone be 
 fore him. She was not, however, in bed, and when she 
 heard his step passing her door she called softly to him, 
 
 "John, brother- John, come in a moment, please." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ANNA AND JOHN. 
 
 He found her in a tasteful dressing gown, its heavy tas 
 sels almost sweeping the floor, while her long glossy hair 
 loosened from its confinement of ribbon and comb, cover 
 ed her neck and shoulders as she sat before the fire al 
 ways kindled in her room. 
 
 "How picturesque you look," he said gaily, bending his 
 
52 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 Anna was never in the least suspicious, or on the watch 
 for quibbles, but took all things for granted, so now she 
 thought within herself, " Lillian, most likely. What a 
 sweet name it is." Then she said aloud. " You were 
 not engaged to her outright, were you ? " 
 
 John started forward and gazed into his sister's face 
 with an expression as if he wished she would question 
 him more closely, for confession to such as she might ease 
 his burdened conscience, but Anna never dreamed of a 
 secret, and seeing him hesitate, she said, 
 
 " You need not tell me unless you like. I only thought 
 maybe, you and Lilly 'were not engaged." 
 
 " We were ; " and rising to his feet John leaned his 
 forehead upon the marble mantel, which cooled its fever 
 ish throbbings. " Anna, I'm a wretch a miserable 
 wretch, and have scarcely known an hour's peace since I 
 left her." 
 
 " Was there a scene ? " Anna asked ; and John replied, 
 
 " Worse than that. Worse for her. She did not know 
 I was going till I was gone. I wrote to her from Paris, 
 for I could not meet her face and tell her how mean I 
 was, I've thought of her so much, and when I landed in 
 New York I went at once to find her, or at least to in 
 quire, hoping she'd forgotten me. The beldame who 
 kept the place was not the same with whom I had left 
 Lily, but she knew about her, and told me she died with 
 
 cholera last September. She and oh, Lily, Lily " 
 
 and hiding his face in Anna's lap, John Richards sobbed 
 like a little child. 
 
 Had Anna been possessed of ordinary penetration, she 
 would have guessed that behind all this there was some 
 thing yet untold, but she had literally no penetration at 
 all. In her nature there was no deceit, and she never 
 suspected it in others, until it became too palpable not to 
 be seen. Very caressingly her white hand smoothed the 
 daintily perfumed hair resting on her dress, and her own 
 
ANNA AND JOHN. 53 
 
 tears mingled with her wayward brother's as she thought, 
 " His burden is greater than mine. I will help him bear 
 it if I can." 
 
 " John," she said at last, when the sobbing had ceased, 
 " I do not think you so much to blame as others, and you 
 must not reproach yourself so bitterly. You say Lily 
 was good. Do you mean she was a Christian, like Char 
 lie?" 
 
 " Yes, if there ever was one. Why, she used to make 
 a villain like me kneel with her every night, and say the 
 Lord's Prayer." 
 
 For an instant, a puzzling thought crossed Anna's brain 
 as to the circumstances which could have brought her 
 brother every night to Lily's side, but it passed away im 
 mediately as she rejoined, 
 
 " Then she is safe in Heaven, and there are no tears 
 there ; no broken hearts, or weary hours of watching. 
 We'll try to meet her some day. You did right to seek 
 her out. You could not help her dying. She might 
 have died had she been your wife, so, I'd try to think it 
 happened for the best, and you'll soon get to believing it 
 did. That's my experience. You are young yet, only 
 twenty-six, and life has much in store for you. You'll 
 find some one to fill Lily's place ; some one whom we 
 shall all think worthy of you, and we'll be so happy to 
 gether." 
 
 The Doctor did not reply to this but sat as if lost in 
 painful thought, until he heard the clock strike the hour 
 of midnight. 
 
 " I did not think it was so late," he exclaimed, " I must 
 really leave you now." 
 
 Anna would not keep him longer, and with a kiss she 
 sent him away, herself holding the door a little ajar to 
 see what effect the new carpet would have upon him. It 
 did not have any at first, so much was he absorbed in 
 thinking of Lily^ but he noticed it at last, admiring its 
 
54 HUGH WORTHINGTON". 
 
 pattern and having a pleasant consciousness that every 
 thing in his room was in keeping, from the handsome 
 drapery which shaded the windows to the marble hearth 
 on which a fire was blazing. He could afford to have a 
 fire, and he sat enjoying it, thinking far different thoughts 
 from Hugh Worthington, who, in his scantily furnished 
 room, sat, with a curl of golden hair upon the stand be 
 side him, and a well worn Bible in his hand. Dr. Rich 
 ards had no Bible of his own ; he did not read it now 
 had never read it much, but somehow his talk with Anna 
 had carried him back to the time when just to please his 
 Lily he had said with her the Lord's Prayer, kneeling at 
 her side with his arm around her girlish form. He had 
 not said it since, and he never would again, he thought. 
 It was sheer nonsense, asking not to be led into tempta 
 tion, as if God delighted to lead us there. It was just fit 
 for weak women to believe, though now that Lily was 
 dead and gone he was glad that she had believed it, and 
 he felt that she was better off for having said those pray 
 ers and acted up to what she said. " Poor Lily," he kept 
 repeating to himself, while in his dreams that night there 
 were visions of a lonely grave in a secluded part of Green- 
 wood, and he heard again the startling words, 
 
 " Dead, both she and the child." 
 
 He did not know there was a child, and he staggered 
 in his sleep, just as he staggered down the creaking stairs, 
 repeating to himself, 
 
 "Lily's child Lily's child! May Lily's God forgive 
 me!" 
 
ALICE JOHNSON. 55 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ALICE JOHNSON. 
 
 The Sunday anticipated by Dr. Richards as the one 
 which was to bless him with a sight of Snowdon's belle, 
 dawned at last, a clear, cold, winter morning, when the air 
 was full of frost, and the crispy snow creaked beneath the 
 tread, and glittered like diamonds in the sunshine. The 
 Doctor had not yet made his appearance in the village, for 
 a hoarseness, to which he was subject, had confined him 
 at home, and Saturday had been spent by him in rehears 
 ing to his sisters and the servants the things he had seen 
 abroad, and in wondering if Alice Johnson would meet 
 his expectations. He did not believe her face would at all 
 compare with the one which continually haunted his 
 dreams, and over which the coffin-lid was shut weary 
 months ago, but $50,000 had invested Miss Alice with 
 that peculiar charm which will sometimes make an ugly 
 face beautiful. The Doctor was beginning to feel the need 
 of funds, and now that Lily was dead, the thought had 
 more than once crossed his mind that to set himself to the 
 task of finding a wealthy wife was a duty he owed him 
 self and his family. Had poor, deserted Lily lived, he 
 could not tell what he might have done, for the memory 
 of her love was the one restraining influence which kept 
 him from much sin. He never could forget her ; never 
 love another as he had once loved her, but she was dead, 
 and he was free to do his mother's will. Similar to these 
 were the Doctor's cogitations, as, on that Sunday morning, 
 he made his toilet for church, anticipating not a little sat 
 isfaction from the sensation he was sure to create among 
 
50 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 some of the worshippers at St. Paul's, for he remembered 
 that the Terrace Hill gentry had always been people of 
 much importance to a certain class of Snowdonites. 
 
 Anna was not with the party which at the usual hour 
 entered the family carriage with Bibles and prayer-books 
 in hand. She seldom went out except on warm, pleasant 
 days ; but she stood in the deep bay window watching 
 the carriage as it wound down the hill and thinking, how 
 handsome and stylish her young brother looked with his 
 Parisian cloak and cap, which he wore so gracefully. 
 Others than Anna thought so too ; and at the church 
 door there was quite a little stir, as he gallantly handed 
 out first his mother and then his sisters, and followed 
 them into the church. 
 
 Dr. Richards had never enjoyed a reputation for being 
 very devotional, and the interval between his entrance 
 and the commencement of the service was passed by him 
 in a rather scornful survey of the time-worn house, which 
 had not improved during his absence. With a sneer in 
 his heart, he mentally compared the old-fashioned pulpit, 
 with its steep flight of steps and faded trimmings, with 
 the lofty cathedral he had been in the habit of attending 
 in Paris, and a feeling of disgust and contempt for people 
 who could be satisfied with a town like Snowdon, and a 
 church like St. Paul's, was creeping over him, when a soft 
 rustling of silk and a consciousness of a delicate perfume, 
 which he at once recognized as aristocratic, warned him 
 that somebody Vas coming ; somebody entirely different 
 from the score of females who had distributed themselves 
 within range of his vision, their countrified bonnets, as he 
 termed them, trimmed outside and in without the least 
 regard to taste, or combination of color. But the little 
 lady, moving so quietly up the aisle, her full skirt of dark 
 blue silk trailing as she came, her handsome cloth cloak, 
 falling so gracefully from the sloping shoulders, which the 
 fur of Russian sable fitted so well, her plain, but fashiona- 
 
ALICE JOHNSON. 57 
 
 ble hat tied beneath her chin, with broad, rich rib 
 bon, the color of her dress, her dainty little muff, and, 
 more than all, the tiny glove, fitting, without a wrinkle, the 
 little hand which tried the pew door twice ere it yielded 
 to her touch ; she was different. She was worthy of 
 respect, and the Paris beau felt an inclination to rise at 
 once and acknowledge her superior presence. 
 
 Wholly unconscious of the interest she was exciting^ 
 the lady deposited her muff upon the cushions, and then 
 kneeling reverently upon the well worn stool, covered 
 her face with the hands which had so won the doctor's 
 admiration. What a little creature she was, and how glo 
 riously beautiful were the curls of indescribable hue, fall 
 ing in such profusion from beneath the jaunty hat. All 
 this Dr. Richards noted, marvelling that she knelt so long, 
 and wondering what she could be saying. His mother 
 and sisters did the same, it is true, but he always imagin 
 ed it was merely to be fashionable ; but in the attitude 
 of this kneeler at his side there was something which 
 precluded mockery. Was she sincere ? Was there one 
 hearing what she said an ear which marked the faintest 
 sigh and caught the weakest tone ? He wished he knew ; 
 and a pang, keen as the cut of a dissector's knife, shot 
 through his heart, as he remembered another maiden, al 
 most as fair as this one, kneeling at her prayers. Lily 
 had believed in Alice Johnson's God, and he was glad 
 that she had so believed, for without God; poor Lily's short, 
 sad life had been worse than vain ! 
 
 Alice's devotions ended at last, and the view so coveted 
 was obtained; for in adjusting her dress Alice turned 
 toward him, or rather toward his mother, and the doctor 
 drew a sudden breath as he met the brilliant flashing of 
 those laughing sunny blue eyes, and caught the radiant 
 expression of that face, slightly dimpled with a smile. 
 Beautiful, wondrously beautiful was Alice Johnson, and 
 yet the features were not wholly regular, for the piquant 
 3* 
 
58 HUGH WOBTHIM'GTON. 
 
 nose had a slight turn up, and the forehead was not very 
 high ; but for all this, the glossy hair, the dancing blue 
 eyes, the apple-blossom complexion, and the rose-bud 
 mouth made ample amend ; and Dr. Richards saw no fault 
 in that witching face, flashing its blue eyes for an instant 
 upon him, and then modestly turning to the service just 
 commencing. But few of the sacred words, we fear, took 
 deep root in the doctor's heart that morning. He could 
 scarcely have told the day, certainly not the text, and when 
 the benediction was pronounced he was astonished that 
 what he had dreaded as prosy and long had proved to be 
 so short. 
 
 As if divining his wishes in the matter, his mother, after 
 waiting a moment, till Alice arose from her knees, offered 
 her hand to the young girl, inquired kindly for Mrs. 
 Johnson, expressed extreme concern when told of a heavy 
 cold, suggested one or two remedies, commented upon 
 the weather, spoke of Mr. Howard's sermon, and then, as 
 if all the while this had not been the chief object in stop 
 ping, she turned to the eagerly expectant doctor, whom 
 she introduced as " My son, Dr. Richards." 
 
 With a smile which he felt even to his finger tips, Alice 
 offered him her hand, welcoming him home, and making 
 some trivial remark touching the contrast between their 
 quiet town and the cities he had left. 
 
 " But you will help make it pleasanter for us this winter, 
 I am sure," she continued, and the sweet blue eyes sought 
 his for an answer as to whether he would desert Snowdon 
 immediately. 
 
 ".No," be replied, he should probably remain, at home 
 some time, he always found it pleasant at Snowdon, 
 though as a boy he had often chafed at its dullness ; but it 
 could not now be dull, with the acquisition it had received 
 since he was there before; and he bowed toward the 
 young lady, who acknowledged the compliment with a 
 faint blush and then turned toward the group of noisy 
 
ALICE JOHNSON. 59 
 
 ill-bred children," as Dr. Richards thought, who came 
 thronging about her, one offering a penny lest it should 
 be forgotten, a second whispering that Tommie couldn't 
 come because he had no shoes, while a third climbed up 
 on the seat for the kiss, which was promptly given, the 
 giver all unconscious of the disgust felt by the foreign 
 gentleman, who had a strong desire to take the kissed by 
 the neck and thrust him out into the snow ! What affini 
 ty was there between that sparkling, beautiful girl, and 
 that pack of vulgar young ones, he'd like to know ? 
 What was she to them, or they to her, that they should 
 cling to her so confidingly ? 
 
 "My Sunday School scholars ; I have a large class, you 
 see," Alice said, as if in answer to these mental queries. 
 Ah, here comes my youngest " and Alice stooped to 
 caress a little rosy cheeked boy, with bright brown eyes 
 and patches on both coat sleeves. 
 
 The doctor saw the patches, and with a gesture of im 
 patience, turned to go, just as his ear caught another kiss, 
 and he knew the patched boy received what he would 
 have given much to have. 
 
 " Hanged if I don't half wish I was one of those ragged 
 urchins," he said, after handing his mother and sisters to 
 their carriage, and seating himself at their side. " But 
 does not Miss Johnson display strange taste. Surely some 
 other one less refined might be found to look after those 
 brats, if they must be looked after, which I greatly doubt. 
 Better leave them as you find them ; can't elevate them 
 if you try. It's trouble thrown away," and John Richards 
 wrapped his Parisian cloak closer around him, and leaning 
 back in his corner, wondered if Alice Johnson really was 
 happy in her teaching, or did she do it for effect. 
 
 " It is like what Lily would have done, he thought, had 
 she possessed the power and means. Alice and Lily must 
 be alike," and with a mental wish that Alice's fate might 
 prove a happier one than poor Lily's had been, John re- 
 
60 HUGH WOBTHINGTON. 
 
 lapsed into a silent mood, such as usually came over him 
 when Lily was in his mind. 
 
 That afternoon, while his mother and elder sisters were 
 taking their usual Sunday nap, and Anna was nodding in 
 her chair, the Doctor sat watching the blazing fire and 
 trying to decide upon his future course. 
 
 Should he return to New York, accept the offer of an 
 old friend of his father's, an experienced practitioner, and 
 earn his own bread honorably ; or, should he remain at 
 Snowdon and cultivate Alice Johnson ? John wanted 
 money sadly; the whole family wanted money, as every 
 hour of his stay among them proved. They were grow 
 ing poor so fast, and it showed plainly, in spite of their 
 attempts, to conceal it. John would almost as -soon be 
 dead as be poor. He never had denied himself; he never 
 could, he said, though well he knew the time was coming 
 when he must, unless, to use Micawber's expression, " some 
 thing should turn, up." And hadn't it turned up in the 
 shape of a beautiful heiress ? What was to hinder him 
 from entering the lists and carrying off the prize ? He 
 had never yet failed when he chose to exert himself, and 
 though he might, for a time, be compelled to adopt a differ 
 ent code of morality from that which he at present ac 
 knowledged, he would do it for once. He could be inter 
 ested in those ragged children ; he could encourage Sun 
 day schools ; he could attend church as regularly as Alice 
 herself and, better yet, he could doctor the poor for noth 
 ing, as that was sure to tell, and he would do it, too, if 
 necessary. This was the finale which he reached at last by 
 a series of arguments pro and con, and when it was reach 
 ed, he was anxious to commence the task at once. He 
 presumed he could love Alice Johnson ; she was so pretty 
 but even if he didn't, he would only be doing what thou 
 sands had done before him. He should be very proud of 
 her, and would certainly try to make her happy. One 
 long, almost sobbing sigh to the memory of poor Lily, 
 
RIVERSIDE COTTAGE. 61 
 
 who had loved so much and been so cruelly betrayed, one 
 faint struggle with conscience, which said that Alice John 
 son was too pure a gem for him to trifle with, and then 
 the past, with its sad memories, was buried. Lily's sweet 
 pleading face, asking that no other one should be wronged 
 as she had been, was thrust aside, and Dr. Richards stood 
 ready for his new career. 
 
 CHAPTER VH 
 
 KIVERSIDE COTTAGE. 
 
 Mrs. Johnson did not like Dr. Richards when she came 
 to know him, and yet he was an almost daily visitor at 
 Riverside Cottage, where one face at least grew brighter 
 when he came, and one pair of eyes beamed on him a wel 
 come. His new code of morality worked admirably, and 
 as weeks passed away he showed no signs of weariness 
 in the course he had adopted. Mr. Howard himself was 
 not more regular at church, or Alice more devout, than 
 Dr. Richards. The children, whom he had denominated 
 " ragged brats," were no longer spurned with contempt, 
 but fed instead with pea-nuts and molasses candy, the doc 
 tor going frequently into the by-lanes where they lived, 
 and where they began to expect him almost as much as 
 Alice. He was popular with the children, but the parents, 
 clearer sighted, treated him most shabbily at his back, ac 
 cusing him of caring only for Miss Alice's good opinion, 
 and of being at heart a most consummate knave ! 
 
 This was what the poor said, and what many others 
 thought. It could not be that John Richards, whom they 
 had known from boyhood as proud, selfish, and overbear 
 ing, could so suddenly change his entire nature, becoming 
 at once so amiable, so familiar, so generous, so much, in 
 
62 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 short, like Alice herself. As well might the leopard change 
 its spots, and many were the insinuations thrown darkly 
 at Alice, who smiled at them all and thought how little 
 Dr. Richards was understood. 
 
 As the winter passed away and spring advanced, he 
 showed no intentions of leaving Snowdon, but on the 
 contrary opened an office in the village, greatly to the sur 
 prise of the inhabitants, and greatly to the dismay of old 
 Dr. Rogers, who for years had blistered and bled the good 
 people without a fear of rivalry. 
 
 "Does Dr. Richards intend locating permanently in 
 Snowdon ? " Mrs. Johnson asked of her daughter as they 
 sat alone one evening. 
 
 " His sign would indicate as much," was Alice's reply. 
 
 There was a faint sigh in the direction of the sofa, on 
 which Mrs. Johnson, who for several days had been suf 
 fering from a severe pajn in her head, was lying, and the 
 sigh smote painfully on Alice's ear, for well she guessed 
 its import. 
 
 "Mother," she said gently, as leaving her chair she 
 came and knelt by her mother's side, " you look pale and 
 worried, as if something ailed you more than your head. 
 You have looked so for some time past. What is it, 
 mother ? Are you very sick, or " and Alice hesita 
 ted, " are you troubled about me ? " 
 
 " Is there any reason why I should be troubled about 
 my darling?" asked the mother, smoothing fondly the 
 bright curls almost touching her face. 
 
 Alice never had any secrets from her mother, and she 
 answered frankly, " I don't know, unless unless moth 
 er, why don't you like Dr. Richards ? " 
 
 The ice was fairly broken now, and very briefly but 
 candidly Mrs. Johnson told why she did not like him. 
 He was handsome, refined, educated and agreeable, she 
 admitted, but there was something lacking. The mask 
 he was wearing had not deceived her, and she would 
 
EIVERSIDE COTTAGE. 63 
 
 have liked him far better without it. This she said to 
 Alice, adding gently, " He may be-all he seems, but I doubt 
 it. I distrust him greatly. I think he fancies you and 
 loves your money." 
 
 " Oh, mother, you do him injustice, and he has been so 
 kind to us, while Snowdon is so much pleasanter since he 
 came." 
 
 " Are you engaged to him ? " was Mrs. Johnson's next 
 question. 
 
 " No," and Alice looked up wonderingly. " I do not 
 like him well enough for that. 
 
 Alice Johnson was wholly ingenuous and would not for 
 the world have concealed a thing from her mother, and 
 very frankly she continued, 
 
 " I like Dr. Richards better than any gentleman I have 
 ever met, and it seems to me that people here do him in 
 justice, but I may be mistaken. - I know he is unpop 
 ular, and that first made me sorry for him. I am sure he 
 is pleased with me, but he has never asked me to be his 
 wife. I should have told you, mother," and the beautiful 
 eyes which had so charmed the doctor looked up confid 
 ingly at the pale face bending over them. 
 
 " God bless my darling, and keep her as innocent as 
 now," Mrs. Johnson murmured, bowing her head upon 
 her daughter's, and kissing the rosy cheek. " I am glad 
 there is no engagement. Will you promise there shall 
 not be for one year at least ? " 
 
 It was a hard thing to ask, for more than she guessed, 
 till then, did Alice's heart incline toward Dr. Richards. 
 Slily, adroitly, he had insinuated himself into her affec 
 tions, boasting that he could sway her at will, only let him 
 attend the Lenten services, week days and all, drop some 
 thing in the plate every Sabbath, speak to all the ragamuf 
 fins he met, take old Mrs. Snyder out for an airing ev 
 ery week, and he was all right with Alice Johnson. And 
 
64 HUGH WORTIIINGTON. 
 
 this was the man from whom Mrs. Johnson would save 
 her daughter, asking again for the promise. 
 
 " Yes, I will, I do," Alice said at last. 
 
 A second " God bless my darling," came from the moth 
 er's lips, and drawing her treasure nearer to her, she con 
 tinued, " You have made me very happy, and by and by 
 you'll be so glad. You may leave me now, for I am tired 
 and faint. 
 
 It was long ere Alice forgot the expression of her moth 
 er's face or the sound of her voice, as she bade her good 
 night on that last evening they ever spent together alone. 
 The indisposition of which Mrs. Johnson had been com 
 plaining for several days, proved to be no light matter, 
 and when next morning Dr. Rogers was summoned to her 
 bedside, he decided it to be a fever which was then pre- - 
 vailing to some extent in the neighboring towns. 
 
 That afternoon it was told at Terrace Hill that Mrs. 
 Johnson was very sick, and half* an hour later the Rich 
 ards carriage, containing the doctor and his sister Anna, 
 wound down the hill, and passing through the park, turn 
 ed in the direction of the cottage, where they found Mrs. 
 Johnson worse than they had anticipated. The sight of 
 distress roused Anna at once, and forgetting her own fee 
 bleness she kindly offered to stay until night if she could 
 be of any service. Mrs. Johnson was fond of Anna, and 
 she expressed her pleasure so eagerly that Anna decided 
 to remain, and went with Alice to remove her wrap 
 pings. 
 
 " Oh, I forgot ! " she exclaimed, as a sudden thought 
 seemed to strike her. " I don't know as I can stay after 
 all, though I might write it here, I suppose, as well as at 
 home ; and as John is going to N~ew York to-night he will 
 take it along." 
 
 " What is it ? " Alice asked ; and Anna replied, 
 
 "You'll think me very foolish, no doubt; they all do, 
 especially John, and have tried to laugh me out of it, but 
 
RIVERSIDE COTTAGE. 65 
 
 I have thoaght about, it, and dreamed about it, until it is 
 impressed upon me that I must do it, and I had decided 
 to attend to it this very day, when we heard of your 
 mother's illness, and John persuaded me to come here 
 with him, as he wished to say good bye to you." 
 
 " I'll get you writing materials if you like," Alice said ; 
 " or you can go at once to the library. Your brother will 
 wait, I am sure." 
 
 " Yes ; but I want to know if you too think me foolish. 
 I'm so dependent on others' opinions ;" and, in a low tone, 
 Anna told how long she had been wanting some nice 
 young person to be constantly with her as companion or 
 waiting-maid, and of the advertisement seen early last 
 winter, how queerly it was expressed, and how careless 
 J"ohn had been in tearing off the name and address, with 
 which to light his cigar. " It seems to me," she continu 
 ed, " that ' unfortunate married woman ' is the very one 
 I want. I cannot account for the interest I feel in her, 
 and in spite of all my family can say, I've concluded to 
 write, and let John take it to the Herald" 
 
 "Yes; but how will you find her? I understand that 
 the address was burned,"^ Alice rejoined quickly, feeling 
 herself that Anna was hardly sane in her calculations. 
 
 " Oh, I've fixed that in the wording," Anna answered. 
 " I do not know as it will ever reach her, it's been so long, 
 but if it does, she'll be sure to know I mean her, or some 
 body like her." 
 
 It was not at all clear to Alice, but she made no objec 
 tions, and taking her silence as a tacit approval of her 
 project, Anna followed her to the library. 
 
 " I dislike writing very much," she said, as she saw 
 the array of materials, " and I write so illegibly too. Please 
 do it for me, that's a dear, good girl," and she gave the 
 pen to Alice, who wrote the first word, " Wanted," and 
 then waited for Anna to dictate. 
 
66 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 " WANTED. By an invalid lady, whose home is in 
 the country, a young woman, who will be both useful 
 and agreeable, either as a companion or waiting-maid. 
 No objection will be raised if the woman is married, and 
 unfortunate, or has a child a few months old. 
 "Address, 
 
 " A. E. R., Snowdon, Hampden Co., Mass." 
 
 " That is what will assure her, should she ever see it," 
 Anna said, pointing to the lines, 
 
 "No objection raised if the young woman is married 
 and unfortunate, or has a child a few months old. " 
 
 Alice thought it the queerest advertisement she had 
 ever seen, but Anna was privileged to do queer things, 
 and folding the paper, she went out into the hall, where 
 the doctor sat waiting for her. Handing him the note, 
 she was about to explain its import, when Anna joined 
 her, and explained herself, charging him to attend to it 
 the very first thing! 
 
 John's mustached lip curled a little scornfully as he 
 read it. 
 
 " Why, puss, that girl or woman is in Georgia by this 
 time, and as the result of this, Terrace Hill will be throng 
 ed with unfortunate women and children, desiring situa- 
 tions* They'll stand three deep from the park gate to the 
 house. Better let me burn this, as I did the other, and 
 not be foolish. She will never see it," and John made a 
 gesture as if he would put it in the stove, but Anna caught 
 his hand, saying imploringly, " Please humor me this once. 
 She may see it, and I'm so interested." 
 
 Anna was always humored, and so the doctor placed 
 in his memorandum book the note, then turning to Alice 
 he addressed her in so low a tone that Anna readily took 
 the hint and left them together. Dr. Richards was not 
 intending to be gone long, he said, though the time 
 would seem a little eternity, so much was his heart now 
 bound up in Snowdon, 
 
KIVERSIDE COTTAGE. 67 
 
 Afraid lest he might say something more of the same 
 nature, Alice hastened to ask if he had seen her mother, 
 and what he thought of her. 
 
 I stepped in for a moment while you were in the 
 library," he replied. " She seemed to have a high fever, 
 and I fancied it increased while I stood by her. I am 
 sorry to leave while she is so sick, but remember that if 
 anything happens you will be dearer to me than ever," 
 and the doctor pressed the little hand which he took in, 
 his to say good-bye, for now he must really go. 
 
 With a swelling heart Alice watched him as he left 
 the house, and then running to her own room locked the 
 door and throwing herself upon the bed sobbed bitterly. 
 What did his words, " if anything happens' imply ? Did 
 lie think her mother so very sick? Was she going to 
 die ? " Oh, mother, mother ! I will not let her go ! " was 
 the cry of a heart which at first rebelled against the 
 threatened blow, refusing to receive it. Anon, however^ 
 better, calmer thoughts succeeded, and though Alice could 
 not yet say " Thy will be done," she was not so rebellious, 
 and a pleading prayer went up, " Spare, oh, spare my moth 
 er," while hope whispered that this terrible calamity would 
 not happen to her. 
 
 As the day and night wore on Mrs. Johnson grew worse 
 so rapidly that at her request a telegram wa forwarded 
 to Mr. Liston, who had charge of her moneyed affairs, 
 and who came at once, for the kind old man was deeply 
 interested in the widow and. her lovely daughter. As 
 Mrs. Johnson could bear it, they talked alone together 
 until he perfectly understood what her wishes were with 
 regard to Alice, and how to deal with Dr. Richards. 
 Then promising to return again in case the worst should 
 happen, he took his leave, while Mrs. Johnson, now that a 
 weight was lifted from her mind, seemed to rally, and the 
 physician pronounced her better. But with that strange 
 
68 HUGH WOKTHINGTON. 
 
 foreknowledge, which sometimes comes to people whose 
 days are nearly numbered, she felt that she would die, and 
 that in mercy this interval of rest and freedom from pain 
 was granted her, in which she might talk with Alice con 
 cerning the arrangements for the future. 
 
 " Alice, darling," she said, when they were alone, " come 
 sit by me here on the bed and listen to what I say." 
 
 Alice obeyed, and taking her mother's hot hand in hers 
 she waited for what was to come. 
 
 " Alice, darling, are you willing to be left alone for a 
 little while ? It won't be long, and our Father in Heaven 
 knows best what is for our good." 
 
 " Oh, mother, don't ; you will not die," and Alice sobbed 
 convulsively. "Last night, when I thought you were in 
 danger, I prayed so hard to be willing, but I couldn't, oh, 
 I couldn't, and God seemed a great ways off seemed as 
 if he did not hear. In all the wide world I can never find 
 another mother, and I shall be so desolate." 
 
 Mrs. Johnson knew just how desolate her dying would 
 leave her child, for she had felt the same, and for a few 
 moments she strove to comfort the weeping girl, who hid 
 her face in the pillows, by telling her of One who will 
 surely care for the orphan ; for he has said he would, and 
 his word never fails. 
 
 " You ha*e learned to trust him in prosperity, and He 
 will be a thousand fold nearer to you in adversity. You'll 
 miss me, I know, and be very lonely without me, bat you 
 are young, and life has many charms for you, besides God 
 will never forget or forsake his covenant children." 
 
 Gradually as she talked the sobbing ceased, and when 
 the white face lifted itself from its hiding place there was 
 a look upon it as if the needed strength had been sought 
 and to some extent imparted. 
 
 "My will was made some time ago," Mrs. Johnson con 
 tinued, " and that with a few exceptions, such as legacies 
 to your nurse Densie Densmore, and some charitable insti- 
 
RIVERSIDE COTTAGE. 69 
 
 tutions, you are my sole heir. Mr. Listen is to be youi 
 guardian, and will look after your interests until you are 
 of age, or longer if you choose. You know that as both 
 your father and myself were only children, you have no 
 near relatives on either side to whom you can look for 
 protection. There is a kind of second cousin, it is true, 
 the old gentlemen who visited us just before we came 
 here. But his family are gay, fashionable people, and 
 I'd rather you should not go there, even if he were 
 willing. Mr. Liston would give you a home with him, 
 but I do not think that best and there is but one other 
 alternative. 
 
 " You will remember having heard me speak occasion 
 ally of a friend now living in Kentucky, a Mrs. Worth - 
 ington whose husband was a distant relative of ours. 
 Ralph Worthington and your father were school boys to 
 gether, and afterward college companions. They were 
 more like brothers than friends ; indeed, they were often 
 likened to David and Jonathan, so strongly were they at 
 tached to each other. 
 
 I was but sixteen when I became a bride, and, as you 
 know, several years elapsed ere God blessed me with a liv 
 ing child. Your father was consumptive, and the chances 
 were that I should early be left a widow. This it was, I 
 think, which led to the agreement made by thfc two friends 
 to the effect that if either died the living one should care 
 for the widow and fatherless as for a brother's family. To 
 see the two as they pledged themselves to keep this sol 
 emn compact, you would not have guessed that the tall, 
 athletic, broad chested Ralph, would be the first to go, yet 
 BO it was. He died ere you were born." 
 
 " Then he is dead ? Oh, I'm so sorry," Alice exclaimed. 
 " Yes, he's dead ; and, as far as possible, your father ful 
 filled his promise to Ralph's widow and her child a little 
 boy, five years old, of whom Mrs. Worthington herself 
 was appointed guardian. I never knew what spirit of 
 
70 HUGH WORTIirNGTON. 
 
 evil possessed Eliza who had been my schoolmate and 
 to whom I was greatly attached ; but in less than a year 
 after her husband's death, she made a second and most un 
 fortunate marriage. We both opposed it, for we distrust 
 ed the man. As the result of our opposition, a coolness 
 sprang up between us, and we saw but little of each other 
 after that. Mr. Murdoch proved a greater scoundrel than 
 we supposed, and when their little girl was nearly two 
 years old, we heard of a divorce. Mr. Johnson's health 
 was failing fast, and we were about to make the tour of 
 Europe, in hopes a change would benefit him. Just before 
 we sailed we visited poor Eliza, whom we found doubly 
 heart-broken, for, in addition to the other outrages heap 
 ed upon her, the brutal wretch had managed to steal her 
 beautiful daughter, and carried it no one knew whither. 
 I never shall forget the distress of the brother. I've often 
 thought of him since, and wondered what he had grown 
 to be. We comforted Eliza as best we could, and left 
 money to be used for her in case she needed it. Then we 
 embarked with you and Densie for Europe. You know 
 how for a while, your father seemed to regain his strength, 
 how he at last grew worse and hastened home to die. 
 In the sorrow and excitement which followed, it is not 
 stra'nge that Eliza was for a time forgotten, and when I re 
 membered and enquired for her again, I heard that Hugh 
 had been adopted by some relation in Kentucky, that the 
 stolen child had been mysteriously returned, and was liv 
 ing with its mother in Elmswood a quiet, out-of-the-way 
 town, which I never visited until that summer when you 
 went West with the Gil mores. 
 
 "At first Eliza appeared a little cool, but this soon 
 wore off, and was mostly owing, I fancy, to the mortifica 
 tion she felt at my finding her in circumstances so chang 
 ed from what they used to be, foiythough managing to keep 
 up a genteel exterior, she was really very poor. She did 
 not talk much of Hugh. Indeed, she knew but little of 
 
EIVERSIDB COTTAGE. 71 
 
 him, as his letters were far apart, and only contained praises 
 of his horses, his dogs, and the rare sport he had in hunt 
 ing with his eccentric uncle, whose name I have forgotten. 
 Neither did she say much of Adaline, who was then awa.y 
 at school. Still my visit was a sadly satisfactory one, as 
 we recalled old times when we were girls together, weep 
 ing over our great loss when our husbands were laid to 
 rest. Then we spoke of their friendship, and lastly of the 
 contract. 
 
 " * It sounds preposterous in me, I know,' Mrs. Worth- 
 ington said, when we parted, 'you are so rich and I so 
 poor, but if ever Alice should want a mother's care, I will 
 gladly give it to her.' 
 
 " This was nearly eight years ago. And, as I failed to 
 write her for a long, long time, while she was long in an 
 swering, the correspondence ceased till just before her 
 removal to Kentucky, when she apprised me of the change. 
 You have now the history of Mrs. Worthington, the only 
 person who comes to mind as. one to whose care I can 
 entrust you." 
 
 "But, mother, I may not be wanted there," and Alice's 
 lip quivered painfully. " Adaline is a young lady now, 
 and Hugh, what of him, mother ? What is he ? " 
 
 Mrs. Johnsgn could not tell ; neither did she know if 
 her darling would be welcome, but money, she knew, had 
 a charm, and she replied to Alice's queries, 
 
 " You will not go empty handed, nor be a burden to 
 them. They are poor, and money will not come amiss. 
 We can but try at all events, and if they object, Mr. Lis- 
 ton will do the best he can for you. For some weeks, it 
 has been impressed upon me that my time was short, and 
 fancying it could do no harm, I have written to Mrs. 
 Worthington a letter which you will send when I am 
 gone. I have asked her to receive you, to care for you 
 as her cwu. I said that Mr. Liston would attend to all 
 pecuniary matters, paying your allowance quarterly ; and 
 
72 HUGH WOKTHINGTON. 
 
 I am sure you will not object when I tell you that I tnmk 
 it right to leave Adaline the sum of one thousand dollars. 
 It will not materially lessen your inheritance, and it will 
 do her a world of good. Mr. Listen will arrange it for 
 you. You will remain here until you hear from Mrs. 
 Worthington, and then abide by her arrangements. She 
 is a gentle, affectionate woman, and will be kind to you. 
 I do not know that she is a Christian, but your influence 
 may do her good, and make her bless the day when you 
 were sent to her. Will you go, my daughter go cheer 
 fully?" 
 
 " Yes, mother, I'll go," came gaspingly from Alice's lips. 
 I'll go but, mother, oh, mother," and Alice's cry ended as it 
 always did, " you will not, you must not die ! " 
 
 But neither tears, nor prayers could avail to keep the 
 mother longer. Her work on earth was done, and after 
 this conversation^ she grew worse so rapidly that hope 
 died out of Alice's heart, and she knew that soon she 
 would be motherless. There were days and nights of 
 pain and delirium in which the sick woman recognized 
 none of those around her save Alice, whom she continually 
 blessed as her darling, praying that God, too, would bless 
 and keep his covenant child. At last there came a change, 
 and one lovely Sunday morning, when thfe sunlight lay 
 upon the springing grass and sparkled on the river, when 
 the air was laden with the early flowers' perfume, and birds 
 were singing by the door, the delirium passed away, and 
 in the room so long kept dark and still, were heard whis 
 pered words of joy, of peace, of perfect rest, such as the 
 dying Christian only feels. It was early morning then, 
 and ere the bell from St. Paul's tower sent forth its sum 
 mons to the house of God, there rang from its belfry a 
 solemn toll, and the villagers listening to it, said, as they 
 counted forty-four, that Mrs. Johnson was dead. 
 
MR. USTON AND THE DOCTOR. 73 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 MR. LISTON AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 Among Snowdon's poor that day, as well as among the 
 wealthier class, there was many an aching heart, and many 
 a prayer was breathed for the stricken Alice, not less belov 
 ed than the mother had been. At Terrace Hill Mansion) 
 much sorrow was expressed, and among the older sisters 
 a considerable anxiety felt as to whether this sudden death 
 would postpone indefinitely the marriage they had looked 
 upon as sure to take place between their brother and the 
 youthful heiress. They hoped not, for money was great 
 ly needed at Terrace Hill. In the familiar intercourse 
 which latterly had existed between themselves and Alice 
 they had seen enough to know how generous and free she 
 was. Once their sister, and Terrace Hill would blossom 
 again as the rose. On the whole it was very unfortunate 
 that Mrs. Johnson should have died so unexpectedly, and 
 they did wish John was there to comfort the young girl 
 who, they heard, refused to see any one except the clergy 
 man and Mr. Listen. 
 
 " Suppose we telegraph for John," Eudora said, and in 
 less than two hours thereafter, Dr. Richards in New York 
 read that Alice was an orphan. 
 
 There was a pang as he thought of her distress, a wish 
 that he were with her, and then the thought arose, " What 
 if she does not prove as wealthy as I have supposed. Will 
 that make any difference ? " 
 
 He knew it would, for though more interested in Alice 
 than he supposed he could be in any one a/ter poor Lily 
 died, he was far too mercenary to let his affections run 
 away with his judgment, and could the stricken Alice have 
 
74 HUGH WORTIIINGTON. 
 
 looked into his heart and seen what his cogitations were 
 that morning, when at the St. Nicholas he sat thinking 
 how her mother's loss might possibly affect him, she would 
 have shrunk from him in horror. He had best go home 
 at once, he said, and on the day appointed for the funeral 
 he reached the station adjoining Snowdon, where he 
 alighted, as the Express train did not stop in the next town. 
 It was not more than two miles to Terrace Hill across the 
 fields, and as he preferred walking to riding, he sauntered 
 slowly on, thinking of Alice and wishing he did know just 
 the amount left her by her mother. 
 
 "I must do something," he soliloquized, "or how can I 
 ever pay those debts in New York, of which mother 
 knows nothing ? I wish that widow " 
 
 He did not finish his wishes, for a turn in the path 
 brought him suddenly face to face with Mr. Liston, whom 
 he had seen at a distance, and whom he recognized at 
 once. 
 
 " I'll quiz the old codger," he thought. " He don't, of 
 course, know me, and will never suspect my object." 
 
 Mistaken doctor ! The old codger was fully prepared. 
 He did know Dr. Richards by sight, and was rather glad 
 than otherwise when the elegant dandy, taking a seat 
 upon the gnarled roots of the tree under which he was 
 sitting, made some trivial remark about the weather, which 
 was very propitious for the crowd who were sure to at 
 tend Mrs. Johnson's funeral. 
 
 Yes, Mr. Liston presumed there would be a crowd. It 
 was very natural there should be, particularly as the de 
 ceased was greatly beloved and was also reputed wealthy. 
 " It beats all what a difference it makes, even after death, 
 whether one is supposed to be rich or poor," and the codger 
 worked away industriously at the pine stick he was whit 
 tling. 
 
 " But in this case the supposition of riches must be cor 
 rect, though I know people are oftener over valued than 
 
MR. LISTON AND THE DOCTOR. 75 
 
 otherwise," and with his gold-headed cane the doctor 
 thrust at a dandelion growing near. 
 
 " Nothing truer than that," returned the whittler, brush 
 ing the litter from his lap. " Now I've no doubt that prig 
 of a doctor, who they say is shining up to Alice, will be 
 disappointed when he finds just how much she's worth. 
 Let me see. What is his name ? Lives up there," and 
 with his jack-knife Mr. Liston pointed toward Terrace 
 Hill. 
 
 Smothering his desire to throttle and then pitch into 
 the river the old man, calling him a a prig of a doctor, so 
 coolly and deliberately marring his golden visions, the 
 doctor answered, naturally, 
 
 " The Richards family live there, sir. You mean their 
 son, I presume." 
 
 " Yes, the chap that has travelled and come home so 
 changed. They do say he's actually taken to visiting all 
 the rheumatic old women in town, applying sticking plas 
 ters to their backs and adminstering squills to their chil 
 dren, all free gratis. Don't ask a red does it for chari 
 ty's sake : but I know he expects to get his pay out of 
 Alice's purse, as he does it to please her and nothing else. 
 He ought to be rewarded for all his philanthropy with a 
 rich wife, that's a fact. It's too bad to have him so disap 
 pointed, and if he comes out to the funeral I believe I'll 
 tell him as a friend that my advice is, not to marry for 
 money it won't pay," and from beneath the slouched 
 hat drawn so closely over the comical face, the keen gray 
 eyes looked curiously. 
 
 Poor doctor ! How he fidgeted, moving so often that 
 his tormenter demurely asked him if he were sitting on a 
 thistle ! 
 
 " Does Miss Johnson remain here ? " the doctor asked 
 at last, and Mr. Liston replied by telling what he knew 
 of the arrangements. 
 
 At the. mention of Worthington the doctor, looked up 
 
76 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 quickly. Whom had he known by that name* or where 
 had he heard it before ? " Mrs. Worthington, Mrs. Wor- 
 thington," he repeated, unpleasant memories of something, 
 he knew not what, rising to his mind. Is she living in 
 this vicinity ? " 
 
 " In Kentucky. It's a widow and her daughter," Mr. 
 Liston answered, wisely resolving to say nothing of a 
 young man, lest the doctor should feel anxious. 
 
 " A widow and her daughter ! I must be mistaken in 
 thinking I ever knew any one by that name, though it 
 seems familiar," said the doctor, and as by this time he 
 had heard all he wished to hear, he arose, and bidding Mr. 
 Liston good morning walked away in no enviable frame 
 of mind. 
 
 " I didn't tell him a lie. He will be disappointed when 
 he finds just how much she is worth, and my advice to 
 him, or any other man, is not to marry for money," Mr. 
 Liston chucklingly soliloquized as he watched the crest 
 fallen doctor disappearing from view, muttering to himself, 
 " The wretch ! to talk so to my face ! I wish I'd knocked 
 him down. Rheumatic woman and squills, indeed ! But 
 it's all true, every word, and that's the worst of it. I have 
 turned fool just to get a pretty girl, or rather to get her 
 money. But I won't stay here to be laughed at. I'll go 
 back this very day. I am glad no one has seen me except 
 that old rat, who never guessed I was the chap he compli 
 mented so highly, the rascal ! " 
 
 Looking at his watch the doctor found that it lacked 
 several hours ere the express from Boston was due. But 
 this did not discourage him. He would stay in the fields 
 or anywhere, and turning backward he followed the course 
 of the river winding under the hill until he reached the 
 friendly woods which shielded him from observation. 
 How he hated himself hiding there among the trees, and 
 how he longed for the downward train, which came at last, 
 and when the village bell tolled out its suinnions to the 
 
RIVERSIDE COTTAGE. 
 
 house of mourning, he sat in a corner of the car returning 
 to New York even faster than he had come. 
 
 Gradually the Riverside cottage filled with people as 
 sembling to pay the last tribute of respect to the deceased, 
 who during her short stay among them had endeared her 
 self to many hearts. 
 
 Slowly, sadly, they bore her to the grave. Reverently 
 they laid her down to rest, and from the carriage window 
 Alice's white face looked wistfully out as " earth to earth, 
 ashes to ashes," broke the solemn stillness. Oh, how she 
 longed to lay there too, beside her mother ! How the sun 
 shine, flecking the bright Jue grass with gleams of gold, 
 seemed to mock her misery as the gravelly earth rattled 
 heavily down upon the coffin lid, and she knew they were 
 .covering up her mother. " If I too could die ! " she mur 
 mured, sinking back in the carriage corner and covering 
 her face with her veil. But not so easily could life be sha 
 ken off by her, the young and strong. She must live yet 
 longer. She had a work to do a w T ork whose import 
 she knew not ; and the mother's death, for which she then 
 could see no reason, though she knew well that one exist 
 ed, was the entrance to that work. She must live and 
 she must listen while Mr. Liston talked to her that night 
 on business, arranging about the letter, which was forward 
 ed immediately to Kentucky, and advising her what to do 
 until an answer was received. 
 
 Not a word did he say of his interview with the doctor, 
 nor did Alice know he had been there. She would not 
 have cared if she had, so crushed and desolate was her 
 young heart, and after Mr. Liston was gone and the house 
 had become quiet again, a species of apathy settled upon 
 her as with a feeling akin to despair she sat down to wait 
 for the news from Kentucky, which was to decide her fu 
 ture course. 
 
78 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTElt IX. 
 
 MATTERS IN KENTUCKY. 
 
 Backward now with our reader we turn, and take up 
 the broken thread of our story at the point where we left 
 Adah Hastings, sleeping, in that best chamber at Spring 
 Bank; while around the time worn building the winter wind 
 howled dismally, and drove the sleet in gusts against the 
 windows. There were piles of snow next morning upon 
 the steps, huge rifts against the doors, and banks against 
 the fences, while the bent-up negroes shivered and drew 
 back from the cutting blast, so foreign to their tempera 
 ments. 
 
 It was a bitter morning in which to face the fierce north 
 wind, and plow one's way to the Derby cornfield, where 
 in a small, dilapidated building, Aunt Eunice Reynolds, 
 widowed sister of John Stanley, had lived for many years, 
 first as a pensioner upon her brothers bounty, and next as 
 Hugh's incumbent. At the time of her brother's death 
 Aunt Eunice had intended removing to Spring Bank, but 
 when Hugh's mother wrote, asking for a home, she aban 
 doned the plan, and for two seasons more lived alone, 
 watching from her lonely door the tasselled corn ripening 
 in the August sun. It was strange that a house should 
 have been built there in the center of that corn-field, with 
 woods enclosing it on every side save one, and stranger 
 still, that Aunt Eunice should care to stay there, year 
 after year, as she did. But she preferred it, she said " to 
 having a paltry, lazy nigger under foot," and so her broth 
 er suffered her to have her way, while the neighbors mar 
 velled at and admired the untiring energy and careful 
 neatness which made the cottage in the corn field so cozy- 
 
MATTERS IN KENTUCKY. 79 
 
 like and cheerful. Hugh was Aunt Eunice's idol, the 
 object which kept her old heart warm and young with 
 human love. For him she would endure any want or en 
 counter any difficulty, and in his dilemma regarding Adah 
 Hastings, he intuitively turned to her, as the one who 
 would lend a helping hand. He had not been to see her 
 in two days, and when the grey December morning broke, 
 and he looked out upon the deep, untrodden snow, he 
 frowned impatiently, as he thought how bad the path 
 must be between Spring Bank and the corn-field, whither 
 he intended going, as he would be the first to tell what 
 had occurred. 'Lina's fierce opposition to, and his mother's 
 apparent shrinking from Adah, had convinced him how 
 hopeless was the idea that she could stay at Spring Bank 
 with any degree of comfort to herself or quiet to him. 
 Aunt Eunice's house was the only refuge for Adah, and 
 there she would be comparatively safe from censorious 
 remarks. 
 
 " Inasmuch as ye did it to the least of these ye did it 
 unto me," kept ringing in Hugh's ears, as he hastily dress 
 ed himself, striking his benumbed fingers together, and 
 trying hard to keep his teeth from chattering, for Hugh 
 was beginning his work of economy, and when at day 
 light Claib came as usual to build his master's fire, he had 
 sent him back, saying he did not need one, and bidding 
 him go, instead, to Mrs. Hastings' chamber. 
 
 It took more than a shake or two that morning ere 
 Hugh's toilet was completed, for the stiff, hea.vy boots re 
 fused at first to go on, but with a kick and a jerk, and 
 what would have been an oath if he had not thought of 
 Golden Hair in time to prevent its utterance, Hugh pre 
 vailed at last and the refractory boots came to their pro 
 per place. Bounding down the stairs he hurried out to the 
 kitchen, where only a few of his negroes were stirring. 
 
 " Ho, Claib ! " he called, " saddle Rocket quick and bring 
 him to the door. I'm going to the corn field." 
 
80 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 " Lor' bless yon, mas'r, it's done snow higher than Rock 
 et's head. He'll never stand it nohow." 
 
 "Do as I bid you," was Hugh's reply, and indolent 
 OJaib went shivering to the stable where Hugh's best 
 horses were kept. 
 
 A whinnying sound of welcome greeted him as he en 
 tered, but was soon succeeded by a spirited snort as he at 
 tempted to lead out a most beautiful dapple gray, Hugh's 
 favorite steed, his pet of pets, and the horse most admired 
 and coveted in all the country. 
 
 "None of yer ars" Claib said coaxingly, as the animal 
 threw up his neck defiantly, " You've got to get along 
 'case Mas'r Hugh say so. You know Mas'r Hugh." 
 
 As if he really knew and understood, the proud head 
 came down at once, and Rocket suffered himself to be led 
 from the stall, but when the keen north wind struck full 
 upon his face, the gleaming eyes flashed with stubborn 
 fire, and planting his feet firmly in the snow, Rocket re 
 sisted all Claib's efforts to get him any further. Scolding 
 did no good, coax him he could not, strike him he dared 
 not, and alternately changing the halter from hand to hand 
 poor Claib blew his stiffened fingers and called lustily for 
 help. 
 
 " What is it ? " Hugh asked, coming out upon the stoop, 
 and comprehending the trouble at a glance. "Rocket 
 Rocket," he cried, " Easy, my boy," and in an instant Rock 
 et's defiant attitude changed to one of perfect obedience. 
 
 He knew and loved the voice calling so cheerily to him, 
 and with a sudden plunge, which wrenched his halter from 
 Claib's grasp and sent the poor negro headlong into the 
 snow, he bounded to his master's side. Rubbing his head 
 against Hugh's shoulder, he suffered himself to be caress 
 ed for a moment, and then, playful as a kitten, gambolled 
 around him in circles, sometimes making a feint of coming 
 near to him, and again leaping backward with the peculiar 
 ly graceful motion for which he was so famous. How 
 
MATTERS IN KENTUCKY. 81 
 
 Hugh loved that noble animal, and how Rocket loved him, 
 licking his hands whenever he entered the stable, and cry 
 ing piteously after him when he left. Five hundred dol 
 lars had been offered him for that horse, but though want 
 ing money sadly, he had promptly refused the offer, de 
 termined that Rocket should know no master save him 
 self. 
 
 " There, my beauty," he said, as the animal continued 
 to prance around him. " There, you've showed off enough. 
 Come, now, I've work for you to do." 
 
 Docile as a lamb when Hugh commanded, he stood quiet 
 ly while Claib equipped him for his morning's task. 
 
 " Tell mother I shan't be back to breakfast," Hugh said, 
 as he sprang into the saddle, and giving loose rein to 
 Rocket went galloping through the snow. 
 
 Under ordinary circumstances that early ride would have 
 been vastly exhilarating to Hugh, who enjoyed the bracing 
 air, but there was too much now upon his mind to admit 
 of his enjoying any thing. Thoughts of Adah, and the 
 increased expense her presence would necessarily bring, 
 flitted across his mind, while Harney's bill, put over once, 
 and due again ere long, sat like a nightmare on him, for 
 he saw no way in which to meet it. No way save one, 
 and Rocket surely must have felt the throbbing of Hugh's 
 heart as that one way flashed upon him, for he gave a 
 kind of coaxing whine, and dashed on over the billowy 
 drifts faster than before. 
 
 " No, Rocket, no," and Hugh patted his neck. He'd 
 never part with Rocket. He'd sell Spring Bank first with 
 all its incumbrances. 
 
 The cornfield was reached by this time, and with a single 
 bound Rocket cleared the gate at the entrance. A six- 
 rail fence was nothing for him to leap, and like a deer he 
 sped across the field, and ere long stood before Aunt Eu 
 nice's door. It was now three days since Hugh had glad 
 dened Aunt Eunice's cottage with the sunshine of his 
 4* 
 
82 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 presence, and when she awoke that morning, and saw 
 how high the snow was piled around her door, she said to 
 herself, "The boy'll be here directly to know if I'm 
 alive," and this accounted for the round deal table drawn 
 before the blazing fire, and looking so inviting with its 
 two plates and cups, one a fanciful china affair, sacredly 
 kept for Hugh, whose coffee always tasted better when 
 sipped from its gilded side. The lightest of egg bread was 
 steaming on the hearth, the tenderest of steak was broil 
 ing on the griddle, while the odor of the coffee boiling on 
 the coals came tantalizingly to Hugh's olfactories as Aunt 
 Eunice opened the door, saying pleasantly, 
 
 " I told 'em so. I felt it in my bones, and the breakfast 
 is all but ready. Put Rocket up directly, and come in to 
 the fire." 
 
 Fastening Rocket in his accustomed place in the outer 
 shed, Hugh stamped the snow from his heavy boots, and 
 then went in to Aunt Eunice's kitchen-parlor, as she call 
 ed it, where the tempting breakfast stood upon the table. 
 Nimble as a girl Aunt Eunice brought his chair, and 
 placing it in the warmest part of the room, the one next 
 to the wall and fartherest from the door where the wind 
 and snow crept in. But Hugh was not selfish enough to 
 keep it, and he made Aunt Eunice change, for he knew 
 the blood moved more slowly through her veins than his. 
 
 " No coffee ! What new freak is that ? " and Aunt Eu 
 nice gazed at him in astonishment as he declined the cup 
 she had prepared with so much care, dropping in the 
 whitest lumps of sugar, and stirring in the thickest cream. 
 
 It cost Hugh a terrible struggle to refuse that cup of 
 coffee, but if he would retrench, he must begin at once, 
 and determining to meet it unflinchingly he replied that 
 "he had concluded to drink water for a while, and see 
 what that would do ; much was said nowadays about 
 coffee's being injurious, and he presumed it was." 
 
 In great distress the good old lady asked if " his dys- 
 
MATTERS IN KENTUCKY. 83 
 
 peptic was out of order," still insisting that he should take 
 the cup, whose delicious odor well nigh overcame resolu 
 tion. But Hugh was firm as a granite rock when once 
 his mind was settled, and assuring Aunt Eunice that his 
 " dyspeptic " was right, he betook himself to the gourd, 
 standing in the pail of water within his reach. Poor 
 Aunt Eunice did not half enjoy her breakfast, and she 
 would not have enjoyed it at all had she known that 
 Hugh was abstaining from what he loved so much only 
 that she and others might be fed and warmed. 
 
 " There's something on your mind," she said, observing 
 his abstraction. " Have you had another dunning letter, 
 or what ? " 
 
 Aunt Eunice had made a commencement, and in his 
 usual impulsive way Hugh told the story of Adah and 
 then asked if she would take her. 
 
 "But, Hugh," and Aunt Eunice spoke earnestly, "you 
 cannot afford the expense. Think twice before you com 
 mit yourself." 
 
 " I have thought twice, the last time just as I did the 
 first. Adah shall stay. You need some one these winter 
 nights. There's the room you call mine. Give her that. 
 Will you, Aunt Euuice ? " and Hugh wound his arm 
 around Aunt Eunice's ample waist, while he pleaded for 
 Adah Hastings. 
 
 Aunt Eunice was soon won over as Hugh knew she 
 would be, and it was settled that she should come that 
 very day if possible. 
 
 " Look, the sky is clearing," and he pointed to the sun 
 shine streaming through the window. 
 
 " We'll have her room fixed before I go," and with his 
 own hands Hugh split and prepared the wood which was 
 to kindle Adah's fire, then with Aunt Eunice's help sundry 
 changes were made in the arrangement of the rather mea 
 gre furniture, which never seemed so meagre to Hugh as 
 when he looked at it with Adah's eyes and wondered how 
 she'd like it. 
 
84 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 " Oh, I wish I were rich," he sighed mentally, and ta 
 king out his well-worn purse he carefully counted its con 
 tents. 
 
 Twenty-five dollars. That was all, and this he had been 
 so long in saving for the new coat he meant to buy. Hugh 
 would like to dress better if he could, and was even an 
 ticipating his sister's surprise when he should appear 
 before her some day habited in a coat of the latest style. 
 To do this Adah's room must go unfurnished yet awhile 
 and with another sigh the purse was returned to his pock 
 et, just as Aunt Eunice, who had stepped out for a mo 
 ment, reappeared, bringing a counterpane and towel, one 
 of which was spread upon the bed, while the other cover 
 ed the old pine stand, marred and stained with ink and 
 tallow, the result of Hugh's own carelessness. 
 
 " What aheap of difference that table cloth and pocket- 
 handkerchief do make," was Hugh's man-like remark, his 
 face brightening with the improved appearance of things* 
 and his big heart growing warm with the thought that he 
 might keep his twenty-five dollars and Adah be comforta 
 ble still. 
 
 With a merry laugh Aunt Eunice explained that the 
 table-cloth was a bed-spread, and the handkerchief a .towel. 
 It was all the same to Hugh so long as they improved the 
 roorn ; and glancing at his watch, he said it was time to be 
 gone. 
 
 " Ad may pick Adah's eyes out before I get home," was 
 his laughing remark as he vaulted into his saddle and 
 dashed off across the fields, where, beneath the warm 
 Kentucky sun, the snow was already beginning to soften. 
 
 Breakfast had been late at Spring Bank that morning, 
 for the strangers had required some care, and Miss Lina 
 was sipping her coffee rather ill-naturedly when a note 
 was handed her, and instantly her mood was changed. 
 
 " Splendid, mother! " she exclaimed, glancing at the tiny, 
 three-cornered thing; " an invitation to Ellen Tiffton's 
 
MATTERS IN KENTUCKY. 85 
 
 party. I was afraid she would leave me out after Hugh's 
 refusal to attend the Ladies' fair, or buy a ticket for her lot 
 tery. It was only ten dollars either, and Mr. Harney 
 spent all of forty, I'm sure, in the course of the evening. 
 
 " Hugh had no ten dollars to spare," Mrs. Worthing- 
 ton said, apologetically, " though, of course, he -might 
 have been more civil than to tell Ellen, it was a regular 
 swindle, and the getters-up ought to be indicted. I al 
 most wonder at her inviting him, as she said she'd never 
 speak to him again." 
 
 " Invited him ! Who said she had ? It's only one card 
 for me," and with a most satisfied expression ' Lina pre- 
 sented the note to her mother, whose face flushed at the 
 insult offered her son an insult which even 'Lina felt, 
 but would not acknowledge, lest it should interfere with 
 her going. " There maybe some mistake," she suggested. 
 " Lulu may have dropped his," and ringing the bell she 
 summoned to their presence a bright, handsome mulatto 
 girl, who answered frankly that 
 
 " Only one invite was given her, and, and that for Miss 
 'Lina. I asked Jake," she said, " where was Master 
 Hugh's, and he said, ' Oh. Miss Ellen's ravin' at him ; 
 called him no gentleman ; and wouldn't invite him any 
 way.' I think it's right mean in her, for Master Hugh is 
 enough sight better gentleman than Bob Harney, that 
 she's after. I told Jake to tell her so," and having thus 
 vindicated her master's cause, Lulu tripped back to the 
 kitchen, leaving her mistress and 'Lina to finish their 
 party discussion. 
 
 "You won't go, of course," Mrs. Worthington said, 
 quietly. " You'll resent her slighting Hugh." 
 
 " Indeed I shan't," the young lady retorted. " I hardly 
 think it fair in Ellen, but I shall accept, and I must go to 
 town to-day to see about having rny pink silk fixed. I 
 think I'll have some black lace festooned round the skirt. 
 How I wish I could have a new one. Do you suppose 
 Hugh has any money? 1 ' 
 
86 HUGH WOKTIIINGTON. 
 
 " None for new dresses or lace flounces either," Mrs. 
 Worthington replied. " I fancy he begins to look old and 
 worn with this perpetual call for money from us. We 
 must economize." 
 
 "Never mind, when I get Bob Harney I'll pay off" old 
 scores," 'Lina said, laughingly, as she arose from the table, 
 and went to look over her wardrobe, having first investi 
 gated the weather, and ascertained, from a consultation 
 with Ca3sar, that the roads would undoubtedly be passable 
 by noon. 
 
 Meantime Hugh had returned, meeting in the kitchen 
 with Lulu, who worshipping her young master with a 
 species of adoration, resented any insults offered him far 
 more keenly than his own sister did. 
 
 "Well, Lu, what is it? What's happened?" Hugh 
 asked, as he saw she was full of some important matter. 
 
 In an instant the impetuous Lulu told him of the party 
 to which he was not invited, together with the reason 
 why, and the word she had sent back. 
 
 " I'll give 'em a piece of my mind ! " she said, as she saw 
 Hugh change color. " She may have old Harney. He's 
 jes good enough for her ! The hateful ! His man John, 
 told Claib how his master said he meant to get me and 
 Rocket, too, some day ; me for her waiting-maid, I reckon. 
 You won't sell me, Master Hugh, will you ? " and* Lulu's 
 eyes looked pleadingly up to Hugh. 
 
 " Never ! " and Hugh's riding whip came down upon 
 the table with a force which made Lulu start. 
 
 Satisfied that she was safe from Ellen Tiffton's whims. 
 Lulu darted away, while Hugh entered the sitting-room, 
 where 'Lina sat, surrounded by her party finery, and pre 
 pared to do the amiable to the utmost. 
 
 " That really is a handsome little boy upstairs," she said, 
 as if she supposed it were her mother who came in ; then 
 an affected start she added, " Oh, it's you ! I thought 
 'twas mother. Don't you think, Ellen has not invited you. 
 Mean, isn't it ? " 
 
MATTERS IN KENTUCKY. 87 
 
 " Ellen can do as she likes," Hugh replied, adding, as he 
 guessed the meaning of all that finery, " You surely are 
 not going ? " 
 
 " Why not ? " and 'Lina's black eyes flashed full upon 
 him. 
 
 " I thought perhaps you would decline for my sake," he 
 replied. 
 
 An angry retort trembled on 'Lina's lip, but she had aji 
 object to attain, so she restrained herself and answered 
 that " she had thought of it, but such a course would do 
 no good, and she wanted to go so much, the Tifftons were 
 so exclusive aud aristocratic." 
 
 Hugh whistled contemptuously, but 'Lina kept her tem 
 per, and continued, coaxingly, 
 
 " Everybody is to be there, and you'd like to have your 
 sister look decent, I know ; and really, Hugh, I can't unless 
 you give me a little money. Do, Hugh, be good for 
 once." 
 
 " Ad, I can't," and Hugh spoke sorrowfully, for a kind 
 word from 'Lina always touched his weaker side. "I 
 would if I could, but honestly I've only twenty-five dollars 
 in the world, and I've thought of a new coat. 1 don't like 
 to look so shabby. It hurts me worse than it does you," 
 and Hugh's voice trembled as he spoke. 
 
 Any but a heart of stone would have yielded, but, Lina 
 was too supremely selfish. Hugh had twenty-five dollars. 
 He might give her half, or even ten. She'd be satisfied 
 with ten. He could soon make that up. The negro hire 
 came due ere long. He must have forgotten that. 
 
 No, he had not ; but with the negro hire came debts, 
 thoughts of which gave him the old worn look his moth 
 er had observed. Only ten dollars ! It did seem hard to 
 refuse, and if 'Lina went, Hugh wished her to look well, 
 for underneath his apparent harshness, lurked a kind of 
 pride in his sister, whose beauty was of the bold, dashing 
 style. 
 
88 HUGH WORTIIINGTON. 
 
 " Take them," he said at last counting out the ten with 
 regretful sigh. ." Make them go as far as you can, and Ad, 
 remember don't get into debt." 
 
 "I won't," and with a civil "Thank yon," 'Lina rolled 
 up her bills, while Hugh repaired to Adah's room telling 
 her of Aunt Eunice, and his plan of taking her there. 
 
 With a burst of tears, Adah listened to him, and then 
 insisted upon going away, as she had done the previous 
 night. She had no claim on him, and she could not be a 
 burden. 
 
 " Yon, madam, think it best, I'm sure," she said, appeal 
 ing to Mrs. Worthington, who was present and who an 
 swered promptly, 
 
 "I do not. I am willing you should remain until your 
 friends are found." 
 
 Adah offered no further remonstrance, but turning to 
 Hugh, said hesitatingly, 
 
 " I may hear from my advertisement. Do you take the 
 Herald f n 
 
 " Yes, though I can't say I think much of it," Hugh re 
 plied, and Adah continued, 
 
 " Then if you ever find anything for me, you'll tell me, 
 and I can go away. I said, ' Direct to Adah Hastings.' 
 Somebody will be sure to see it. Maybe G-eorge, and 
 then he'll know of Willie." 
 
 With a muttered invective against the " villain," Hugh 
 left the room to see that the carriage was ready, while his 
 mother, following him into the hall, offered to go herself 
 with Adah if he liked. Glad to be relieved, as he had 
 business that afternoon in Versailles, and was anxious to 
 set off as soon as possible, Hugh accepted at once, and 
 half an hour later, the Spring Bank carriage, containing 
 Mrs. Worthington, Adah and Willie, drove slowly from 
 the door, ' Lina calling after her mother to send Ca3sar 
 back immediately, as she was going to Frankfort after din 
 ner, and wanted the carriage herself. 
 
89 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 There were piles of handsome dress goods upon the 
 counter at Harness that afternoon, and Ilarney was anx 
 ious to sell. It was not often that he favored a customer 
 with his own personal services, and ' Lina felt proportiona- 
 bly flattered when he came forward and asked what he 
 co-uld show her. " Of course, a dress for the party he 
 had sold at least a dozen that day, but fortunately he still 
 had the most elegant pattern of all, and he knew it would 
 exactly suit her complexion and style. There would be 
 nothing like it at the party, unless she wore it, as he 
 hoped she would, for he knew how admirably she would 
 become it, and he'd had her in his mind all the time. 
 ' Lina was easily flattered, while the silk*was beautiful, 
 and as she thought how well the soft tinted rose with its 
 single white velvety leaf, standing out so full and rich, 
 would become her dark hair and eyes, an intense desire 
 came over her to possess it. But ten dollars was all she 
 had, and turning away from the tempting silk she an 
 swered faintly, that "it was superb, but she could not 
 afford it, besides, she had not the money to-day." 
 
 " Not the slightest consequence," was Harney's quick 
 rejoinder, as he thought of Hugh's already heavy bill, and 
 alas, thought of Rocket too! "Not the slightest conse 
 quence. Your brother's credit is good, and I'm sure he'll 
 be proud to see you in it. I should, were I your brother." 
 
 'Lina blushed, while the wish to possess the silk grew 
 every moment stronger. 
 
 " If it were only fifty dollars, it would not seem so bad," 
 she thought. Hugh could manage it some way, and Mr. 
 
90 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 Harney was so good natured ; he could wait a year, she 
 knew. But the making would cost ten dollars more, for 
 ^hat was the price Miss Allis charged, to say nothing of 
 the trimmings. " No, I can't," she said, quite decidedly at 
 last, asking for the lace with which she at first intended 
 renovating her old pink silk. " She must see Miss Allis 
 first to know how much she wanted," and she tripped over 
 to Frankfort's fashionable dressmaker, whom she found 
 surrounded with dresses for the party. 
 
 Such an array and such elegance too ; the old pink fad 
 ed into nothing. She should be quite in the shade, and 
 feeling much like crying, 'Lina sat watching the nimble 
 fingers around her, and waiting for Miss Allis' advice, when 
 a new idea crossed her mind. She heard Adah say that 
 morning when she was in her room, that she could sew 
 neatly, that she always made her own dresses, and if hers, 
 why not 'Lina's ! She certainly looked as if she might 
 have good taste, and she ought to do something by way 
 of remuneration ; besides that, if Adah made it, she could, 
 from her mother's budgets pick up enough for linings, 
 whereas nothing but new entire would answer the purpose 
 of a fashionable artiste, like Miss Diana Allis. 'Lina was 
 fast persuading herself to buy the coveted silk, and as 
 some time would elapse ere Miss Allis could attend to her 
 she went back to Harney's just for one more look at the 
 lovely fabric. It was, if possible, more beautiful than be 
 fore, and Harney was more polite, while the result of the 
 whole was that, when 'Lina at four o'clock that afternoon 
 entered her carriage to go home, the despised pink silk, 
 still unpaid on Harney's books, was thrown down any 
 where, while in her hands she carefully held the bundle 
 Harney brought himself, complimenting her upon the 
 sensation she was sure to create, and inviting her to dance 
 the first set with him. Then with a smiling bow he closed 
 the door upon her, and returning to his books wrote 
 down Hugh Worthington his debtor to fifty dollars more. 
 
91 
 
 " That makes three hundred and fifty," he said to him 
 self. " I know he can't raise that amount of ready mon 
 ey, and as he is too infernal proud to be sued, I'm sure of 
 Rocket or Lulu, it matters but little which," and with a 
 look upon his face which made it positively hideous, the 
 scheming Harney closed his books, and sat down to calcu 
 late the best means of managing the rather unmanageable 
 Hugh! 
 
 It was dark when 'Lina reached home, but the silk look 
 ed well by fire-light, and 'Lina would have been quite 
 happy but for her mother's reproaches and an occasional 
 twinge as she thought of Hugh who had not yet returned, 
 and whose purchase that afternoon was widely different 
 from her own. 
 
 It was the day when a number of negroes, whose mas 
 ter had failed to a large amount, were to be sold in the 
 Court House, and Hugh, as he reined up a moment before 
 it, saw them grouped together upon the steps. He had 
 no fancy for such scenes, but the eager, wistful glances 
 the wretched creatures cast upon the passers by awoke 
 his sympathy, and after finishing his business he returned 
 to the Court House just as the auctioneer was detailing the 
 many virtues of the bright-looking lad first upon the 
 block. There was no trouble in disposing of them all, 
 save a white-haired old man, whom they called Uncle 
 Sam, and who was rather famous for having been stolen 
 from his late master and sold into Virginia. With totter 
 ing steps the old man took his place, while his dim eyes 
 wandered over the faces congregated around him as if seek 
 ing for their owner. But none was found who cared for 
 Uncle Sam. He was too old his work was done, and 
 like a worn out horse he must be turned off to die. 
 
 "Won't nobody bid for Sam? I fotched a thousan 
 dollars onct," and the feeble voice trembled as it asked 
 this question. 
 
 " What will become of him if he is not sold ? " Hugh 
 
92 HUGH WOETHINGTOX. 
 
 i 
 
 asked of a bystander, who replied, " Go back to the old 
 place to be kicked and cuffed by the minions of the new 
 proprietor, Harney. You know Harney, of Frankfort ? " 
 
 Yes, Hugh did know Harney as one who was constant 
 ly adding to his already large possessions houses and lands 
 and negroes without limit, caring little that they came to 
 him laden with the widow's curse and the orphan's tears. 
 The law was on his side. He did nothing illegally, and so 
 there was no redress. This was Harney, and Hugh al 
 ways felt exasperated when he thought of him. Advanc 
 ing a step or two he came nearer to the negro, who 
 took comfort at once from the expression of his face, and 
 stretching out his shaking hand he said beseechingly, 
 
 " You, mas'r, you buy old Sam 'case it 'ill be lonesome 
 and cold in de cabin at home when they all is gone. Please 
 mas'r," and the tone was so pleading, that Hugh felt a 
 great throb of pity for the desolate, forsaken negro. 
 
 "How old are you?. "he asked, taking the quivering 
 hand still extended toward him. 
 
 " Bless you, mas'r, longer than I can 'member. They 
 was allus puttin' me back and back to make me young, 
 till I couldn't go backuds no more, so I spec's I's mighty 
 nigh a thousan'," was the negro's reply, whereupon cheers 
 for Uncle Sam resounded long and loud among the 
 amused spectators. 
 
 "What can you do?" was Hugh's next query, to 
 which the truthful negro answered, 
 
 " Nothin' much, or, yes," and an expression of reverence 
 and awe stole over the wrinkled face, as in a low tone he 
 added, " I can pray for young mas'r, and I will, only buy 
 me, please." 
 
 Hugh had not much faith in praying negroes, but some 
 thing in old Sam struck him as sincere. His prayers 
 might do good, and he needed somebody's, sadly. But 
 what should he offer, when fifteen dollars was all he had 
 in the world, and was it his duty to encumber himself 
 
'UNA'S AND HUGH'S PURCHASE. 93 
 
 with a piece of useless property? Visions of the Golden 
 Haired and Adah both rose up before him. They would 
 say it was right. They would tell him to buy old Sam, 
 aad that settled the point. 
 
 " Five dollars," he called out, and Sam's " God bless 
 you," was sounding in his ears, when a voice from another 
 part of the building 'doubled the bid, and with a moan 
 Uncle Sam turned imploringly toward Hugh. 
 
 "A leetle more, mas'r, an' you fetches 'em; a leetle 
 more," he whispered, coaxingly, and Hugh faltered out 
 " Twelve." 
 
 " Thirteen," came from the corner, and Hugh caught 
 sight' of the bidder, a sour-grained fellow, whose wife had 
 ten young children, and so could find use for Sam. 
 
 " Thirteen and a half," cried Hugh. 
 
 " Fourteen," responded his opponent. 
 
 " Leetle more, mas'r, berry leetle," whispered Uncle 
 Sam. 
 
 " Fourteen and a quarter," said Hugh, the perspiration 
 starting out about his lips, as he thought how fast his pile 
 was diminishing, and that he could not go beyond it. 
 
 " Fourteen and a half," from the corner. 
 
 " Leetle more, mas'r," from Uncle Sam. 
 
 " Fourteen, seventy-five," from Hugh. 
 
 " Fifteen," from the man in the corner, and Hugh 
 groaned aloud, 
 
 " That's every dime I've got." 
 
 Quick as thought an acquaintance beside him slipped 
 a bill into his hand, whispering as he did so, 
 
 " It's a Y. I'll double it if necessary. I'm sorry for 
 the darky." 
 
 It was very exciting now, each bidder raising a quarter 
 each time, while Sam's "a leetle more, mas'r," and the vo 
 ciferous cheers of the croud, whenever Hugh's voice was 
 heard, showed him to be the popular party. 
 
 "Nineteen, seventy-five," from the corner, and Hugh 
 felt his courage giving way as he faintly called out, 
 
94 HUGH WGRTHESTGTON. 
 
 " Twenty." 
 
 Only an instant did the auctioneer wait, and then his 
 decisive, " Gone ! " made Hugh the owner of Uncle Sam, 
 who crouching down before him, blessed him with tears 
 and prayers. 
 
 " I knows you're good," he said ; " I knows it by yer 
 face ; and mebby, when the rheumatics gits out of my ole 
 legs I kin work for mas'r a heap. Does you live fur from 
 here?" 
 
 " Three miles or more," Hugh replied, bidding the negro 
 follow him. 
 
 The snow was melting, but out upon the turnpike it was 
 still so deep that Hugh had many misgivings as to the old 
 man's ability to walk, but Sam, intent on proving that he 
 was smarter than he seemed, declared himself perfectly 
 competent to go with "Mars'r " to the world's end, if ne 
 cessary. 
 
 " It's mighty cold, though," he said, as he emerged into 
 the open air, and the chilly wind penetrated the thin rags 
 which covered him. " It's mighty cold, and my knees is 
 all'a shakin', but I'll git over it bimeby." 
 
 It was not in Hugh's nature to see the old man shiver 
 so, and taking off his own thick shawl he wrapped it round 
 the negro's shoulders, saying to the bystanders, 
 
 " My blood is warmer than his." 
 
 Another cheer from the crowd, another, " God bless you, 
 mas'r," and the strange pair started on their homeward 
 tour, Hugh riding very slowly, and accommodating Rock 
 et's steps to the hubbling old man, who wheezed and puff 
 ed, and sweat w T ith the wondrous efforts he made, and at 
 last when only a mile was gone, gave out entirely, and 
 pitched headlong into the snow. 
 
 " It's my dumb knees. They allus was crooked and sha 
 ky," he gasped, becoming more and more entangled in the 
 shawl, which he was not accustomed to wearing. 
 
 " Look here, Sam," and Hugh laughed heartily at the 
 
95 
 
 negro's forlorn appearance, as, regaining his feet, he assum 
 ed a most deprecating attitude, asking pardon for tumbling 
 down, and charging it all to his shaky knees. " Look 
 here, there's no other way, except for you to ride and me 
 to walk. Rocket won't carry double," and ere Sam could 
 remonstrate, Hugh had dismounted and placed him in the 
 saddle. 
 
 Rocket did not fancy the exchange, as was manifest by 
 an indignant snort, and an attempt to shake Sam off, but 
 a word from Hugh quieted him, and the latter offered the 
 reins to Sam, who was never a skillful horseman, and felt 
 a mortal terror of the high-mettled steed beneath him. 
 With a most frightened expression upon his face, he grasp 
 ed the saddle pommel with both hands, and bending near 
 ly double, gasped out, 
 
 " Sam ain't much use't to gemman's horses. Kind of 
 hold me on, mas'r, till I gits de hang of de critter. He 
 hists me round mightily." 
 
 So, leading Rocket with one hand, and steadying Sam 
 with the other, Hugh got on but slowly, and 'Lina had 
 looked for him many times ere she spied him from the 
 window as he came up the lawn. 
 
 " In the name of wonder, what is that on Rocket ! " she 
 exclaimed, as she caught sight of Sam, whose rags were 
 fluttering in the wind. "An old white-headed nigger, as I 
 live ! " and she hastened to the door, where the servants 
 were assembling, all curious like herself to see the new ar 
 rival. 
 
 Very carefully Hugh assisted him to dismount, but 
 Sam's knees, cramped up so long on Rocket, refused to 
 straighten at once, and Lulu was not far out of the way 
 when she likene"d him to a toad, while her mischievous 
 brother Jim called out, 
 
 " How d'ye, old bow legs ? " 
 
 " Jest tol'able, thankee," was Sam's meek reply, then 
 spying 'Lina he lifted his hat politely, bowing so low that 
 
96 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 his knees gave out again, and he would have fallen had 
 not Hugh held him up. 
 
 " Who is he, and what did you get him for ? Mrs. 
 Worthington asked, as Hugh led him into the dining 
 room. 
 
 Briefly Hugh explained to her why he had bought the 
 negro. 
 
 " It was foolish, I suppose, but I'm not sorry yet," he 
 added, glancing toward the corner, where the poor old 
 man was sitting, warming his shriveled 'hands by the 
 cheerful fire, and muttering to himself blessings on 
 " young mas'r." 
 
 Supper had been delayed for Hugh, and as he took his 
 seat at the table, he inquired after Adah. 
 
 " Pretty well when I left," said his mother, adding that 
 Lulu had been there since, and reported 'her as looking 
 pale and worn, while Aunt Eunice seemed worried with 
 Willie, who was inclined to be fretful. 
 
 " They need some one," Hugh said. Can't you spare 
 Lulu ? " 
 
 Mrs. Worthington did not know, but 'Lina, to whom 
 Lulu was a kind of waiting-maid, took the matter up, and 
 said, 
 
 " Indeed they couldn't. There was no one at Spring 
 Bank more useful, and it was preposterous for Hugh to 
 think of giving their best servant to Adah Hastings. Let 
 her take care of her baby herself. She guessed it wouldn't 
 hurt her. Any way, they couldn't afford to keep a servant 
 for her." 
 
 With a long drawn sigh, Hugh finished his supper, and 
 was about lighting his cigar when he felt some one touch 
 ing him, and turning round he saw that Sam had grasped 
 his coat. The negro had heard the conversation, and 
 drawn correct conclusions. His new master was not rich. 
 He could not afford to buy him, and having bought him 
 could not afford to keep him. There was a sigh in the 
 
'UNA'S PURCHASE AND HUGH'S. 97 
 
 old man's heart, as he thought how useless he was, hut 
 when he heard about the baby, his spirits rose at once. 
 In all the world there was nothing so precious to Sam as 
 a little white child, with waxen hands to pat his old black 
 face, and his work was found. 
 
 " Mas'r," he whispered, " Sam kin take keer that baby. 
 He knows how, and the little childrens in Georgy, whar I 
 corned from, used to be mighty fond of Sam. I'll tend to 
 the young lady too. May I, Mas'r ? " 
 
 Sam did not look much like Hugh's ideas of a child's 
 nurse or a ladie's waiting maid, but necessity knows no 
 choice, and thinking the old man might answer for Willie 
 until something better offered, he replied, 
 
 " Perhaps you may. I will see to-morrow." 
 
 Then, stepping to the door he called Claib, and bidding 
 him show Sam where he was to sleep, repaired himself 
 to his own cold chamber which seemed doubly comfort 
 less and dreary from its contrast with the warm pleasant 
 sitting room where the selfish 'Lina, delighted at his ab 
 sence, was again admiring the handsome silk, which Adah 
 was to make. 
 
98 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 SAM AND ADAH. 
 
 With heavy eyes and aching head Adah worked day 
 after day upon the dress, which 'Lina had coaxed her to 
 make, saying both to her and Aunt Eunice that, as she 
 wished to surprise Hugh with a sight of herself in full ar 
 ray, they were not to tell him that the dress was new, but 
 suffer him to think it the old pink silk which she was fix 
 ing. 
 
 " I hardly suppose he'd know the difference," she said, 
 " but if you can arrange it not to work when he is here, I 
 wish you would." 
 
 ' Lina could be very gracious when she chose, and as 
 she saw a way by which Adah might be useful to her, she 
 chose to be so now, and treated the unsuspecting girl so 
 kindly, that Adah promised to undertake the task, which 
 proved a harder one than she had anticipated. Anxious 
 to gratify 'Lina, and keep what she was doing a secret 
 from Hugh, who came to the cottage often, she was oblig 
 ed to work early and late, bending over the dress by the 
 dim candle light, until her head seemed bursting with 
 pain, and rings of fire danced before her eyes. She never 
 would have succeeded but for Uncle Sam, who proved a 
 most efficient member of the household, fitting in every 
 niche and corner, until Aunt Eunice wondered how she 
 had ever lived without him. Particularly did he attach 
 himself to Willie, relieving Adah from all care, and thus 
 enabling her to devote every spare moment to the party 
 dress. 
 
 " You's workin' yourself to death," he said to her, as 
 late on Saturday night she sat bending to the tallow can- 
 
SAM AND ADAH. 99 
 
 die, her hair brushed back from her forehead and a pur 
 plish glow upon her cheek. 
 
 "I know I'm working too hard," Adah replied, and lean 
 ing back in her chair she closed her eyes wearily, while 
 Sam, gazing admiringly at her continued " You 'minds 
 me some of de young lady in Virginny. Has I ever tole 
 you 'bout her ? " 
 
 ".No, who was she ? " Adah said, and Sam replied, 
 
 " She's what teached me the way to God. She took 
 my dried-up-hand in dem little soft ones of hern, white as 
 cotton bats, and lead me up to de narrow gap. She push 
 me in and say, ' Go on now, Sam. You've got in de 
 right track, that leads to glory hallelujah.' Didn't word it 
 just dem words, be sure, but that's the heft of the mean 
 ing. I tell you Sam was mighty nigh as shipwrecked as 
 dat Polio somebody what Miss Ellis read about in the 
 good book. 
 
 " Miss who?" Adah asked, and Sam replied, 
 
 " Miss Ellis. I done forget de other name. Ellis they 
 call her way down thar whar Sam was sold, when dat 
 man with the big splot on his forerd steal me away and 
 sell me in Virginny. Miss ever hearn tell o' dat ? " 
 
 "Big what?" Adah asked, and Sam replied, "Big 
 scar or mark kinder purple, on his forrid, right clus to the 
 har." 
 
 Adah shuddered, for the one she knew as her guardian 
 was marked in that way, and she asked Sam to tell her 
 more of the man with the splot. 
 
 Delighted to tell the story which he never tired of tell 
 ing, Sam, in his own peculiar dialect, related how four 
 years before, a man calling himself Sullivan had appear 
 ed in the neighborhood of his former master's plantation, 
 ingratiating himself into the good graces of the negroes, 
 and secretly offering to conduct any to the land of free 
 dom who would put themselves under his protection. 
 
 " I had an idee," Sam said, " that freedom was sweet as 
 
100 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 bumble bees' honey and I hankered to get a taste, so me 
 and two more fools steal away from the old cabin one 
 rainy night, and go with Mas'r Sullivan, who strut round 
 mighty big, with his three niggers, tellin' us not to say 
 one word ef we not want to be cotched. We thinks he's 
 takin' a bee line for Canada, when fust we knows we's in 
 ole Virginny, and de villain not freein' us at all. He sells 
 us. Me he most give away, 'case I was old, and. the 
 mas'r who buy some like Mas'r Hugh, he sorry for ole 
 shaky nigger. Sam tell him on his knees how he corned 
 from Kaintuck, but Mas'r Sullivan say he bought 'em jfar, 
 and that the right mas'r sell 'em sneakin like to save rais 
 in a furse, and he show a bill of sale. They believe him 
 spite of dis chile, and so Sam 'long to anodder mas'r." 
 
 " Mas'r Fitzhugh live on big plantation and one day she 
 corned, with great trunk, a visitin'. She'd been to school 
 with Miss Mabel, Mas'r Fitzhugh's daughter. 
 
 " They all think heap of Miss Ellis, and I hear de blacks 
 tellin' how she berry rich, and corned from way off thar 
 whar white niggers live Masser-something." 
 
 "Massachusetts," suggested Adah. 
 
 " Yes ; that's the very mas'r. I'se got mizzable memory, 
 and I disremembers her last name. The folks call her 
 Mlis,-aud the blacks Miss Ellis." 
 
 "A queer name for a first one," Adah thought, while 
 Sam continued, 
 
 " She jest like bright angel, in her white gownds and 
 dem long curls, and Sam like her so much. She talk to 
 Sam, too, and her voice so sweet, just like falling water 
 when the moon is shining on it. Sam very sick, want to 
 go home so much, and lie all day in his little cabin, when 
 she come in, holdin' up her skirts so dainty like, and set 
 right down with me. Ki, wasn't her little hand soft 
 though when she put it on my head and said, ' Poor Sam, 
 Ellis is sorry.' Sam cry berry much then ; cry so loud 
 Miss Mabel hear, and come in, tellin' Miss Ellis, c Pooh 
 
SAM AND ADAH. 101 
 
 he's only homesick ; says he was stole from Kentucky, 
 but papa don't believe him. Do come out of this hole, 
 but Miss Ellis not go. She say, 'Then he needs comfort 
 ing,' and she do that very thing. She talk so good, she 
 ax Sam all 'bout it, and Sam feel she b'lieve him. She 
 promise to write to Mas'r Brown and tell him whar I is. 
 I didn't cry loud then heart too full. I cry whimperin' 
 like, and she cry too. Then she tell me about God, and 
 Sam listen, oh, listen so much, for that's what he want to 
 hear so long. Miss Nancy, in Kentuck, be one of them 
 that reads her pra'rs o' Sundays, and ole mas'r one that 
 hollers 'em. Sam liked that way best, seemed like gettin' 
 along and make de Lord hear, but it don't show Sam the 
 way, and when the ministers come m,he listen, but them that 
 reads and them that hollers only talk about High and 
 IJOTJO Jack and the Game, or something, Sam misremem- 
 bers so bad ; got mizzable memory. He only knows he 
 not find the way, till Miss Ellis tell him of Jesus, once a 
 man and always God. It's very queer, but Sam believe 
 it and then she sing, ' Come unto me.' 
 
 " Oh, so fine, the very rafters hold their breff, and Sam 
 find the way. Sam feel the hand she say was stretched 
 out for him. He grasp it tight. He never let it go, 
 never cease thankin' God that 'Come unto me' mean just 
 such an ole nigger as Sam, or that Miss Ellis was sent to 
 him. She teach me ' Our Father,' and I say it every day, 
 and I 'members her, too, and now I puts her and Mas'r 
 Hugh in de same words. Seems ef they make good span, 
 only Mas'r Hugh not so fixed up as she, but he's good." 
 
 " Where is Miss Ellis now ? " Adah asked, and Sam 
 replied, 
 
 " Gone home. Gone to Masser what you say once 
 but not till letter come to her from Mas'r Brown, 
 sayin' Sam was stealed, and 'fore long Mas'r Brown come 
 on hisself after me and the others. Miss Ellis so glad, 
 and Mas'r Fitzhugh, too. Sam not much 'count, he say, 
 
102 HUGH WOHTHINGTON. 
 
 and let me go easy, that's the way I come home. Miss 
 Ellis gived me five dollars and then ask what else. I 
 look at her and say, * Sam wants a spear or two of yer 
 shinin' har,' and Miss Mabel takes shears and, cut a little 
 curl. I'se got 'em now. I never spend the money,' and 
 from an old leathern wallet Sam drew a bill and a soft 
 silken curl which he laid across Adah's hand. 
 
 "And where is Sullivan ?" asked Adah, a chill creep 
 ing over her as she remembered how about four years ago 
 the man she called her guardian was absent for some 
 time, and came back to her with colored hair and whis 
 kers. 
 
 " Oh, he gone long before, nobody know whar. Sam 
 b'lieves, though, he hear they cotch him, but misremem- 
 bers, got such mizzable memory." 
 
 " You said he had a mark ? " Adah continued. And 
 Sam replied, " Yes, queer mark, must of been thar 
 when he was borned, showd better when he's cussin mad. 
 You ever seen him ? " 
 
 " I do not know," and Adah half groaned aloud at the sad 
 memories which Sam's story had awakened within her. 
 
 She could scarcely doubt that Sullivan the negro-steal er, 
 and Redfield, her guardian, were 'the same, but where 
 was he now, and why had he treated her so treacher 
 ously, when he had always seemed so kind? Why did 
 everybody desert her ? What had she done to deserve 
 so sad a fate? All the old bitter anguish was welling up 
 again, and desirous of being alone, she bade Sam leave 
 her, as it was growing late. 
 
 " Miss Adah prays," the old man answered, " Won't 
 she say Our Father with Sam ? " 
 
 Adah could not refuse, and falling on her knees she 
 joined her voice with that of Sam's in that most beauti 
 ful of all prayers the one our Saviour taught. Sam 
 did not know it correctly, but God heard him all the 
 same ; heard too, the strangely-worded petition that " He 
 
SAM AND ADAH. 103 
 
 would bless Mas'r Hugh, Miss Ellis, and Miss Adah, and 
 fotch 'em all right some time. 
 
 Surely Hugh's sleep was sweeter that night for th.e 
 prayer breathed by the lowly negro, and even the wild 
 tumult in "Adah's heart was hushed by Sam's simple, 
 childlike faith that God would bring all right at last. 
 
 Early on Monday afternoon 'Lina, taking advantage 
 of Hugh's absence, came over for her dress, finding much 
 fault, and requiring some of the work to be done 
 twice ere it suited her. Without a murmur Adah obeyed, 
 but when the last stitch was taken and the party dress 
 was gone, her overtaxed frame gave way, and Sam him 
 self helped her to her bed, where she lay moaning,, with 
 the blinding pain in her head, which increased so fast 
 that she scarcely saw the tempting little supper which 
 Aunt Eunice brought, asking her to eat. Of one thing, 
 however, she was conscious, and that of the dark form, 
 bending over her pillow and whispering soothingly the 
 passage which had once brought Heaven to him, "Come 
 unto me, and I will give you rest." 
 
 Dear old Sam ! there was a world of kindness in his 
 breast, and if he could he would gladly have taken 
 Adah's suffering upon himself. 
 
 The night had closed in dark and stormy, and the win 
 try rain beat against the windows ; but for this he did 
 not hesitate a moment when at midnight Aunt Eunice, 
 alarmed at Adah's rapidly increasing fever, asked if he 
 could find his way to Spring Bank, and in a few moments 
 the old, shriveled form was out in the darkness, groping 
 its way over the fences, and through the pitfalls, stumbling 
 often, and losing his hat past recovery, so that the snowy 
 hair was dripping wet when Spring Bank was reached and 
 he stood upon the porch. 
 
 In much alarm Hugh dressed himself and hastened to 
 the cottage. But Adah did not know him and only talked 
 of dresses and parties, and George, whom she begged to 
 
104 HUGH WOKTIIINGTON. 
 
 come "back and restore her good name. The dresses and 
 the party were enigmas to Hugh, and as Aunt Eunice kept 
 silent for fear of his wrath, he gathered nothing from Sam's 
 muttered jumble about, " working herself blind for Miss 
 'Lina over dar." He knew she must have medical advice, 
 and giving a few directions to Aunt Eunice he went him 
 self for the family physician and then returned to Spring 
 Bank in quest of his mother, who, he was sure, would not 
 hesitate to brave the storm for Adah's sake. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 WHAT FOLLOWED. 
 
 i 
 
 There was a bright light in the sitting room, and through 
 the half-closed shutters Hugh caught glimpses of a blazing 
 fire. 'Lina had come home, and half wishing she had 
 staid a little longer, Hugh entered the room, starting with 
 an exclamation of surprise at the sight which met his view. 
 Divested of her gorgeous apparel, her ample dimensions 
 considerably reduced, and her face indicative of her feel 
 ings, 'Lina stood upon the hearth, wringing her long black 
 hair, which hung loosely about her shoulders, while her 
 mother bent with deep concern over the mud-bespattered, 
 ruined dress, which had cost so much. 
 
 Poor 'Lina! The party had proved a most unsat 
 isfactory affair. She had not made the sensation she ex 
 pected to make. Harney had scarcely noticed her at all, 
 having neither eyes nor ears for any one save Ellen Tiffton, 
 who surely must have told that Hugh was not invited, for, 
 in no other way could 'Lina account for the remark she 
 heard touching her want of heart in failing to resent a 
 brother's insult. Added to this, it was very annoying to be 
 quizzed, as she was, concerning Adah, of whom everybody 
 
WHAT FOLLOWED, 105 
 
 seemed resolved to talk. In the most unenviable of 
 moods, 'Lina left at an early hour, and though Harney did 
 accompany her to the carriage, saying something about be 
 ing sorry that she should go so soon when he meant to see 
 more of her, it did not atone for his past neglect or for his 
 holding the umbrella so that the little greenish streams of 
 water dripped directly down her back, making her fidget 
 with terror lest her rose-colored dress should be soiled. 
 Coolly bidding him good night, she bade Caesar drive care 
 fully, as it was very dark, and the rain was almost blinding, 
 so rapidly it fell. 
 
 " Ye-es, Mis-s, Caas he he done been to party fore 
 now. Git 'long dar, Sorrel," hiccoughed the negro, who, 
 in Colonel Tiffton's kitchen had indulged rather too freely 
 to insure the safety of his mistress. 
 
 Still the horses knew the road, and kept* it until they 
 left the main highway and turned into the fields. Even 
 then they would probably have made their way in safety, 
 had not their drunken driver persisted in turning them into 
 a road which led directly through the deepest part of the 
 creek, swollen now by the melted snow and the vast 
 amount of rain which had fallen since the sun-setting, 
 Not knowing they were wrong, 'Lina did not dream of 
 danger until she heard Caesar's cry of " Who'a dar, Sor 
 rel. Git up, Henry. Dat's nothin' but de creek," while 
 a violent lurch of the carriage sent her to the opposite side 
 from where she had been sitting. 
 
 "What is the matter, Caesar? Where are we?" she 
 screamed, as she heard the waters splashing almost against 
 the windows. 
 
 " Lor', Miss, I do' know whar we is, 'cept we're in 
 the river. I never seen no creek so high as this," was the 
 frightened negro's answer as he tried to extricate the noble 
 brutes floundering in the stream and struggling to reach 
 the opposite bank. 
 
 A few mad plunges, another wrench, which pitched 
 5* 
 
106 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 'Lina headlong against the window, and the steep, shelv 
 ing bank was reached, but in endeavoring to climb it the 
 carriage was upset, and 'Lina found herself in pitchy 
 darkness, her mouth and nostrils filled with the soft mud, 
 which, at first, prevented her screaming, and herself wet 
 to her neck with the rushing water. Perfectly sobered 
 now, CaBsar extricated her as soon as possible, and carry 
 ing her up the bank placed her upon her feet beneath a 
 tree, whose leafless branches but poorly shielded her from 
 the rain. The carriage was broken one wheel was off 
 entirely, he said, and thus there was no alternative save 
 for 'Lina to walk the remaining distance home. It was 
 not far, for the scene of the disaster was within sight of 
 Spring Bank, but to 'Lina, bedraggled with mud and wet 
 to the skin, it seemed an interminable distance, and her 
 strength was giving out just as she reached the piazza, and 
 called on her mother for help, sobbing hysterically as she 
 repeated her story, but dwelling most upon her ruined 
 dress. 
 
 "What will Hugh say? It was not paid for either. 
 Oh dear, I most wish I was dead ! " she moaned, as her 
 mother removed one by one the saturated garments. 
 
 The sight of Hugh called forth her grief afresh, and 
 forgetful of her dishabille, she staggered toward him, and 
 impulsively winding her arms around his neck sobbed 
 out, 
 
 " Oh, Hugh, I've had such a doleful time. I've been 
 in the creek, the carriage is broken, the horses are lamed, 
 Cassar is drunk, and and oh, Hugh, I've spoiled my 
 dress ! " 
 
 The last came gaspingly, as if this were the straw too 
 many, the crowning climax of the whole, the loss which 
 'Lina most deplored. Surely here was a list of disasters 
 for which Hugh, with his other trouble, was not prepared. 
 But amid it all there was a glimmer of light, and Hugh's 
 great, warm heart seized it eagerly. 'Lina's arms were 
 
WHAT FOLLOWED. 107 
 
 round his neck, 'Lina's tears were on his cheek, 'Lina her 
 self had turned to him for comfort, and he would not 
 withhold it. Laughing merrily he held her off at a little 
 distance, likening her to a mermaid fresh from the sea, 
 and succeeding at last in quieting her until she could give 
 a more concise account of the catastrophe. 
 
 " Never mind the dress," he said, good humoredly, as 
 she kept recurring to that. " It isn't as if it were new. 
 An old thing is never so valuable." 
 
 " Yes ; but, Hugh you don't know oh, dear, dear," 
 and 'Lina, who had meant to tell the whole, broke down 
 again, while Hugh rejoined, 
 
 "Of course I don't know just how a girl feels to 
 spoil a pretty dress, but I wouldn't cry so hard. You 
 shall have another some time," and in his generous heart 
 the thought arose, that the first money he got should be 
 appropriated to the purchase of a new dress in place of 
 the one whose loss 'Lina so loudly bewailed." 
 
 It was impossible now for Mrs. Worthington to accom 
 pany Hugh to the cottage, so he returned alone, while 
 'Lina, with aching head and shivering limbs, crept into 
 bed, crying herself to sleep, and waking in the morning 
 with a burning fever, scarcely less severe than that raging 
 in Adah Hastings' veins. 
 
 During the gloomy weeks which followed, Hugh's heart 
 and hands were full, inclination tempting him to stay by 
 Adah, and stern duty, bidding him keep with 'Lina, who, 
 strange to say, was always more quiet when he was near, 
 taking readily from him the medicine refused when offered 
 by her mother. Day after day, week after week, Hugh 
 watched alternately at their bedsides, and those who came 
 to offer help felt their hearts glow with admiration for the 
 worn, haggard man, whose character they had so mistaken, 
 never dreaming what depths of patient, all-enduring 
 tenderness were hidden beneath his rough exterior. Even 
 Ellen Tiffton was softened, and forgetting the Ladies 
 
108 HUGH WOKTHmGTON. 
 
 Fair, rode daily over to Spring Bank, ostensibly to inquire 
 after 'Lina, but really to speak a kindly word to Hugh, to 
 whom she felt she had done a wrong. How long these 
 fevers ran, and Hugh began to fear that 'Lina's never 
 would abate, sorrowing much for the harsh words which 
 passed between them, wishing they had been unsaid, for 
 he would rather than none but pleasant memories should 
 be left to him of his only sister. But 'Lina did not die, 
 and as her disease had from the first assumed a far more 
 violent form than Adah's, so it was the first to yield, and 
 February found her convalescent. With Adali it was 
 different, and the neighbors grew tired of asking how she 
 was and receiving always the same doubtful answer. But 
 there came a change, a morning when she awoke from the 
 deathlike stupor which had clouded her faculties so long, 
 and the attending physician said to Hugh that his services 
 would be needed but a little longer. There was joy at 
 the cottage then, old Uncle Sam stealing away to his 
 accustomed place of prayer down by the Willow Spring, 
 where he so oft had asked that Miss Adah might be 
 spared, and where now he knelt to thank the God who 
 had restored her. Joy at Spring Bank, too, when Mrs. 
 Worthington wept tears almost as joyful as any she had 
 shed when told that 'Lina would live. Joy, too, unobtrusive 
 joy in Hugh's heart, a joy which would not be clouded by 
 thoughts of the heavy bills which he must meet ere long. 
 Physicians' bills, together with that of Harney's yet 
 unpaid, for Harney, villain though he was, would not 
 present it when Hugh was full of trouble ; but the hour 
 was coming when it must be settled, and Hugh at last re 
 ceived a note, couched in. courteous terms, but urging 
 immediate payment. 
 
 "I'll see him to-day. I'll know the worst at once," 
 he said, and mounting Rocket, he dashed down the 
 Frankfort turnpike, and was soon closeted with Harney 
 
HOW HUGH PAID HIS DEBTS. 109 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 HOW HUGH PAID HIS DEBTS. 
 
 The perspiration was standing in great drops about 
 Hugh's quivering lips, and his face was white as ashes, as, 
 near the close of that interview, he hoarsely asked, 
 
 " Do I understand you, sir, that Rocket will cancel 
 this debt and leave you my debtor for one hundred 
 dollars ?" 
 
 " Yes, that was my offer, and a most generous one, too, 
 considering how little horses are bringing," and Harney 
 smiled villianously as he thought within himself, " Easier 
 to manage than I supposed. I believe my soul I offered 
 too much. I should have made it an even thing." 
 
 He did not know Hugh "Worthington, or dream of the 
 volcano pent up beneath that calm exterior. Hugh had 
 demurred to the fifty-dollar silk as a mistake, and when 
 convinced that it was not, his wrath had known no bounds. 
 Forgetting Golden Hair he had sworn so roundly that 
 even Harney cowered before the storm ; but that was over 
 now, and ashamed of his passion, Hugh was making a 
 strong effort to meet his fate like a man. Step by step 
 as he knew so well how to do, Harney had reached the 
 point of which for more than a year he had never lost 
 sight. 
 
 " If Mr. Worthington had not the ready money, and, 
 in these hard times, it was natural to suppose he had not, 
 why then he would, as an accommodation, take Rocket, 
 paying one hundred dollars extra, and Hugh's debt would 
 be cancelled." 
 
 Hugh knew how long this plan had been premeditated, 
 and his blood boiled madly when he heard it suggested, 
 as if that moment had given it birth. Still he restrained 
 
110 HUGH WOKTHESTGTON. 
 
 himself, and asked the question we have recorded, adding, 
 after Harney's reply, 
 
 " And suppose I do not care to part with Rocket ? " 
 
 Harney winced a little, but answered carelessly, 
 
 "Money, of course, is just as good. You know how 
 long I've waited. Few would have done as well." 
 
 Yes, Hugh knew that, but Rocket was as dear to him 
 as his right eye, and he would almost as soon have pluck 
 ed out the one as sold the other. 
 
 " I have not the money," he said frankly, " and I cannot 
 part with Rocket. Is there nothing else? I'll give a 
 mortgage on Spring Bank." 
 
 Harney did not care for a mortgage, but there was 
 something else, and the rascally face brightened, as, step 
 ping back, while he made the proposition, he faintly sug 
 gested " Lulu." He would give a thousand dollars for 
 her, and Hugh could keep his horse. For a moment the 
 two young men regarded each other intently, Hugh's eyes 
 flashing gleams of fire, and his whole face expressive of 
 the contempt he felt for the wretch who cowed at last be 
 neath the look, and turned away muttering that " he saw 
 nothing so very heinous in wishing to purchase a nigger 
 wench." 
 
 Then, changing his tone to one of defiance, he added, 
 
 "You'll be obliged to part with her yet, Hugh Worth- 
 ington. I know how you are straitened and how much 
 you think of her. You may not have another so good a 
 chance to provide her with a kind master. Surely, you 
 should be satisfied with that fair-haired New York damsel, 
 and let me have the nigger." 
 
 Harney tried to smile, but the laugh died on his lips, as, 
 springing to his feet, Hugh, with one blow, felled him to 
 the floor, exclaiming, 
 
 " Thus do I resent the insult offered to Adah Hastings, 
 as pure and true a woman as your own sister. Villain ! " 
 and he shook fiercely his prostrate foe struggling to rise. 
 
HOW HUGH PAID HIS DEBTS. Ill 
 
 Some men are decidedly better for being knocked down, 
 and Harney was one of them. Feminine in figure and 
 cowardly in disposition, he knew he was no match for the 
 broad, athletic Hugh, and shaking down his pants when 
 permitted to stand upright, he muttered something about 
 "hearing from him again." Then, as the sight of the un 
 paid bill brought back to his mind the cause of his pres 
 ent unpleasant predicament he returned to the attack, by 
 saying, 
 
 " Since you are not inclined to part with either of your 
 pets, you'll oblige me with the money, and before to- 
 . morrow night. You understand me, I presume ? " 
 
 " I do," and bowing haughtily, Hugh passed through 
 the open door. 
 
 In a kind of desperation he mounted Rocket, and 
 dashed out of town at a speed which made more than 
 one look after him, wondering what cause there was for 
 his headlong haste. A few miles from the city he slacked 
 his speed, and dismounting by a running brook, sat down 
 to think. The price offered for Lulu would set him free 
 from every pressing debt, and leave a large surplus, but 
 not for a moment did he hesitate. 
 
 " I'd lead her out and shoot her through the heart, be 
 fore I'd do that," he said. 
 
 Then turning to the noble animal cropping the grass 
 beside him, he wound his arms around his neck, and tried 
 to imagine how it would seem to know the stall at home 
 was empty, and Rocket gone. He could not sell him, 
 he said, as he looked into the creature's eyes, meeting 
 there an expression almost human, as Rocket rubbed his 
 nose against his sleeve, and uttered a peculiar sound. 
 
 " If I could pawn him," he thought, just as the sound 
 of wheels was heard, and he saw old Colonel Tiffton driv 
 ing down the turnpike. 
 
 Stopping suddenly as he caught sight of Hugh, the 
 colonel called out cheerily, " How d'ye, young man ? 
 
112 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 What are you doing there by the brook? Huggin' your 
 horse, as I live ! Well, I don't wonder. That's a fine 
 nag of yours. My Nell is nigh about crazy for me to buy 
 him. What'll you take?" 
 
 Hugh knew he could trust the colonel, and after a mo 
 ment's hesitation told of his embarrassments, and asked 
 the loan of five hundred dollars, offering Rocket as secu 
 rity, with the privilege of redeeming him in a year. 
 Hugh's chin quivered, and the arm thrown across Rock 
 et's neck pressed more tightly as he made this offer. Ev 
 ery change in the expression of his face was noted by 
 the colonel, and interpreted with considerable accuracy. 
 He had always liked Hugh. There was something in his 
 straight-forward manner which pleased him, and when 
 he learned why he was not at his daughter's birth-day 
 party, he had raised a most uncomfortable breeze about 
 the capricious Nellie's ears, declaring she should apolo 
 gize, but forgetting to insist upon it as he at first meant 
 to do. 
 
 "You ask a steep sum," he said, crossing one fat limb 
 over the other and snapping his whip at Rocket, who 
 eyed him askance. " Pretty steep sum, but I take it, you 
 are in a tight spot and don't know what else to do. Got 
 too many hangers on. There's Aunt Eunice you can't 
 help her, to be sure, nor your mother, nor your sister, 
 though I'd break her neck before I'd let her run me into 
 debt. Your bill at Harney's, I know, is most all of her 
 contracting, though you don't tell me so, and I respect 
 you for it. She's your sister blood kin. But that girl 
 in the snow bank I'll be hanged if that was ever made 
 quite clear to me." 
 
 " It is to me, and that is sufficient," Hugh answered 
 haughtily, while the old colonel laughingly replied, 
 
 " Good grit, Hugh. I like you for that. In short, I 
 like you for every thing, and that's why I was sorry about 
 that New York lady. You see, it may stand in the way 
 of your getting a wife by and by, that's all." 
 
HOW HUGH PAID HIS DEBTS. 113 
 
 " I shall never marry," Hugh answered, moodily, kick 
 ing at a decaying stump, and involuntarily thinking of 
 the Golden Haired. 
 
 " No ? " the colonel replied, interrogatively. " Well 
 there ain't many good enough for you, that's a fact ; " there 
 ain't many girls good for any body. I never saw but one 
 except my Nell, that was worth a picayune, and that was 
 Alice Johnson" 
 
 " Who ? Who did you say ? " And Hugh grew white 
 as marble, while a strange light gleamed in the dark eyes 
 fastened so eagerly upon the colonel's face. 
 
 Fortunately for him the colonel was too much absorbed 
 in dislodging ^fly from the back of his horse to notice his 
 agitation ; but he heard the question and replied, " I said 
 Alice Johnson, twentieth cousin of mine blast that fly ! 
 lives in Massachusetts ; splendid girl hang it all, can't 
 I hit him ? I was there two years ago. Never saw a 
 girl that made my mouth water as she did. Most too pi 
 ous, though, to suit me. Wouldn't read a newspaper 
 Sunday, when that's the very day I take to read 'em 
 there, I've killed him." And well satisfied with the achieve 
 ment, the old colonel put up his whip, never dreaming of 
 the effect that name had produced on Hugh, whose heart 
 gave one great throb of hope, and then grew heavy and 
 sad as he thought how impossible it was that the Alice 
 Johnson the colonel knew, could be the Golden Haired. 
 
 " There are fifty by that name, no doubt," he said, " and 
 if there were not, she is dead. But oh, if it could be 
 that she'were living, that somewhere I could find her." 
 
 There was a mist before Hugh's vision, and the arm en 
 circling Rocket's neck clung there now for support, so 
 weak and faint he grew. He dared not question the col 
 onel farther, and was only too glad when the latter came 
 back to their starting point and said, " If I understand you, 
 I can have Rocket for five hundred dollars, provided I let 
 you redeem him within a year. Now that's equivalent to 
 
114 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 my lending you five hundred dollars out and out. I see, 
 but seeing it's you, I reckon I'll have to do it. As luck 
 will have it, I was going down to Frankfort this very day 
 to put some money in the bank, and if you say so, we'll 
 clinch the bargain at once ; " and taking out his leathern 
 wallet, the colonel began to count the required amount. 
 
 Alice Johnson was forgotten in that moment of pain 
 ful indecision, when Hugh felt as if his very life was dy 
 ing out. 
 
 " Oh, I can't let Rocket go," he thought, bowing his face 
 upon the animal's graceful neck. Then chiding himself as 
 weak, he lifted up his head and said : " I'll take the mon 
 ey. Rocket is yours." 
 
 The last words were like a smothered sob ; and the gen 
 erous old man hesitated a moment. But Hugh was in 
 earnest. His debts must be paid, and five hundred dol 
 lars would do it. 
 
 " I'll bring him round to-morrow. Will that be time 
 enough ? " he asked, as he rolled up the bills. 
 
 " Yes," the colonel replied, while Hugh continued en- 
 treatingly, " and, colonel, you'll he kind to Rocket. He's 
 never been struck a blow since he was broken to the sad 
 dle. He wouldn't know what it meant." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I see Rarey's method. Now I never could 
 make that work. Have to lick 'em sometimes, but I'll re 
 member Rocket. Good day," and gathering up his reins 
 Col. Tiffton rode slowly away, leaving Hugh in a maze of 
 bewilderment. 
 
 That name still rang in his ears, and he repeated it 
 again and again, each time assuring himself how impossi 
 ble it was that it should be she the only she to him in 
 all the world. And supposing it were, what did it 
 matter? What good could her existence do him? She 
 would despise him now no position, no name, no mon 
 ey, no Rocket, and here he paused, for above all thoughts 
 of the Golden Haired towered the terrible one that 
 
HOW HUGH PAID HIS DEBTS. 115 
 
 Rocket was his no longer that the evil he most 
 dreaded had come upon him. " But I'll meet it like a 
 man," he said, and springing into his saddle he rode back 
 to Frankfort and dismounted at Harney's door. 
 
 In dogged silence Harney received the money, gave his 
 receipt, and then, without a word, watched Hugh as he 
 rode again from town, muttering to himself, " I shall remem 
 ber that he knocked me down, and some time I'll repay 
 
 It was dark when Hugh reach home, his lowering 
 brow and flashing eyes indicating the fierce storrn which 
 was gathering, and which burst the moment he entered the 
 room where 'Lina was sitting. In tones which made 
 even her tremble he accused her of her treachery, pouring 
 forth such a torrent of wrath that his mother urged him 
 to stop, for her sake if no other. She could always 
 quiet Hugh, and he calmed down at once, hurling but 
 one more misssile at his sister, and that in the shape 
 of Rocket, who, he said, was sold for her extravagance. 
 
 'Lina was proud of Rocket, and the knowledge that he 
 was sold touched her far more than all Hugh's angry 
 words. But her tears were of no avail ; the deed was 
 done, and on the morrow Hugh, with an unflinching hand, 
 led his idol from the stable and rode rapidly across the 
 fields, leading another horse which was to bring him 
 home. 
 
 Gloomily the next morning broke, and at rather a late 
 hour for him, Hugh, with a heavy sigh, had raised himself 
 upon his elbow, wondering if it were a dream, or if during 
 the night he had really heard Rocket's familiar tramp 
 upon the lawn, when Lulu came running up the stairs, 
 exclaiming, joyfully, 
 
 " He's done come home, Rocket has. He's at the kitchen 
 door." 
 
 It was as Lulu said, for the homesick brute, suspecting 
 
116 HUGH WOKTHINGTON. 
 
 something wrong, had broken- from his fastenings, and 
 bursting the stable door had come back to Spring Bank, 
 his halter dangling about his neck, and himself looking 
 very defiant, as if he were not again to be coaxed away. 
 At sight of Hugh he uttered a sound of joy, and bounding 
 forward planted both feet within the door ere Hugh had 
 time to reach it. 
 
 " Thar's the old colonel now," whispered Claib, just as 
 the colonel appeared to claim his runaway. 
 
 But Rocket kept them all at bay, snapping, striking, 
 and kicking at every one who ventured to approach him. 
 With compressed lip and moody face Plugh watched the 
 proceeding for a time, now laughing at the frightened 
 negroes hiding behind the lye leach to escape the range 
 of Rocket's heels, and again groaning mentally as he met 
 the half human look of Rocket's eyes turned to him as if 
 for aid. At last rising from the spot where he had been 
 sitting he gave the whistle which Rocket always obeyed, 
 and in an instant the sagacious animal was at his side, 
 trying to lick the hands which would not suffer the caress 
 lest his courage should give way. 
 
 " I'll take him home myself," he said to the old colonel, 
 emerging from his hiding place behind the leach, and 
 bidding Claib follow with another horse, Hugh went a 
 second time to Colonel Tiffton's farm. 
 
 Leading Rocket into the stable he fastened him to the 
 stall, and then with his arms around his neck talked to 
 him as if he had been a refractory, disobedient child. We 
 do not say he was understood, but after one long, despair 
 ing cry, which rang in Hugh's ears for many a day and 
 night, Rocket submitted to his fate, and staid quietly 
 with the colonel, who petted him if possible more than 
 Hugh had done, without, however, receiving from him 
 the slightest token of affection in return. 
 
m 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MKS. JOHNSON'S LETTEE. 
 
 The spring had passed away, and the warm June sun 
 was shining over Spring Bank, whose mistress and ser 
 vants were very lonely, for Hugh was absent, and with him 
 the light of the house had departed. Business of his late 
 uncle's had taken him to New Orleans, where he might 
 possibly remain all summer. 'Lino, was glad, for since 
 the fatal dress affair there had been but little harmony 
 between herself and her brother. The tenderness awak 
 ened by her long illness seemed to have been forgotten, 
 and Hugh's manner toward her was cold and irritating to 
 the last degree, so that the young lady rejoiced to be 
 freed from his presence. 
 
 " I do hope he'll stay," she said one morning, when 
 speaking of him to her mother. " I think it's a heap ni 
 cer without him, though dull enough at the best. I wish 
 we could go to some watering place. There's the Tiff- 
 tons just returned from New York, and I don't much be 
 lieve they can afford it more than we, for I heard their 
 place was mortgaged to Harney. Oh, bother, to be so 
 poor," and the young lady gave a little angry jerk at the 
 hair she was braiding. 
 
 " Whar's ole miss? " asked Claib, who had just return 
 ed from Versailles. " Thar's a letter for her," and depos 
 iting it upon the bureau, he left the room. 
 
 " Whose writing is that ? " 'Lina said, catching it up 
 and examining the postmark. Ho, mother ! here's a let 
 ter in a strange hand- writing. Shall I open it ? " she 
 called, arid ere her mother could reply, she had broken 
 
]J8 HUGH WORTHmGTON. 
 
 the seal, and held in her hand the draft which made her 
 the heiress of one thousand dollars. 
 
 Had the fabled godmother of Cinderilla appeared to 
 her suddenly, she would scarcely have been more bewil 
 dered. 
 
 " Mother," she screamed again, reading aloud the " Pay 
 to the order of Adaline Worthington,' etc. What does 
 it mean, and who could have sent it ? Isn't it splendid ? 
 Who is Alice Johnson ? Oh, I know, that old friend of 
 yours, who came to see you once when I was gone. 
 What does she say ? 'My dear Eliza, feeling that I have 
 
 not Ipng to live ' What dead ? Well, I'm sorry 
 
 for that, but, I must say, she did a very sensible thing 
 sending me a thousand dollars. We'll go somewhere 
 now, won't we ? " and clutching fast the draft, the heart 
 less girl yielded the letter to her mother, who with 
 blanched cheek and quivering lip read the last message 
 of her friend ; then burying her face in her hands she 
 sobbed as the past came back to her, when the Alice 
 now forever at rest and herself were girls together. 
 
 'Lina stood a moment, wishing her mother had not 
 cried, as it made it very awkward then, for want of 
 something better to do took up the letter her mother had 
 dropped and read it through, commenting as she read. 
 Wants you to take her daughter Alice. Is the woman cra 
 zy. And her nurse, DensieDensmore. Say, mother, you've 
 cried enough, let's talk the matter over. Shall you let Alice 
 come ? Ten dollars a week, they'll pay. Five hundred 
 and twenty dollars a year. Whew ! We are rich as 
 Jews. It won't cost half that sum to keep them. Our 
 ship is really coming in." 
 
 By this time Mrs. Worthington was able to talk of a 
 matter which had apparently so delighted 'Lina. Her 
 first remark, however, was not very pleasing to the young 
 lady. 
 
 " As far as I am concerned I would willingly give Alice 
 
119 
 
 a home, but it's not for me to say. Hugh alone can de 
 cide it. We must write to him." 
 
 "You know he'll refuse," was 'Lina's angry reply. 
 " He hates young ladies." " So if it hangs on his decision, 
 you may as well save your postage stamp to New Or 
 leans, and write at once to Miss Johnson that she cannot 
 come, on account of a boorish clown." 
 
 " 'Lin a," feebly interposed Mrs. Worthington, feeling 
 how inefficient .she was to cope with 'Lina's stronger 
 will. "Lina, we must write to Hugh." 
 
 " Mother, you shall not," and 'Lina spoke determinedly. 
 " I'll send an answer to this letter myself, this very day. 
 I will not suffer the chance to be thrown away. Hugh 
 may swear a little at first, but he'll get over it." 
 
 " Hugh never swears," and Mrs. Worthington spoke up 
 at once. 
 
 " He don't, hey ? Maybe you've forgotten when he 
 came home from Frankfort, that time he heard about my 
 dress. As old Sam says, I've got a mizzable memory,' 
 but I have a very distinct recollection that oaths were 
 thick as hail stones. Didn't his eyes blaze though ! " 
 
 " I know he swore then ; but he never has since, I'm 
 sure, and I think he is better, gentler, more refined than he 
 used to be, since since Adah came." 
 
 A contemptuous " pshaw ! " came from 'Lina's lips, and 
 then she proceeded to speak of Alice Johnson, asking for 
 her family. Were they the F. F. V.'s of Boston? and so 
 forth. 
 
 To this Mrs. Worthington gave a decided affiamative ; 
 repeating to her daughter many things which Mrs. John 
 son had herself told Alice in that sad interview when she 
 lay on her sick bed with Alice sobbing near. 
 
 So far as she was concerned, Alice Johnson was welcome 
 to Spring Bank; but justice demanded that Hugh should 
 be consulted ere an answer were returned. 'Lina, how 
 ever, overruled her arguments as she always did, and with 
 
120 HUGH WORTHINGTO5f. 
 
 a sigh she yielded the point, hoping there would be some 
 way by which Hugh might be appeased. 
 
 " Now let us talk a little about the thousand dollars," 
 'Lin a said, for already the money was beginning to burn 
 in her hands. 
 
 " I'm going to Saratoga, and you are going, too. We'll 
 have heaps of dresses. We'll take Lu, for a waiting 
 maid. That will be sure to make a sensation at the 
 North. c Mrs. Worthington, daughter, and colored servant, 
 Spring Bank, Kentucky.' I can almost see that on the 
 clerk's books. Then I can manage to let it be known that 
 I'm an heiress, as I am. We needn't tell that it's only a 
 thousand dollars, most of which I have on my back, and 
 maybe I'll come home Adaline somebody else. There are 
 always splendid matches at Saratoga. We'll go north the 
 middle of July, just three weeks from now." 
 
 'Lina had talked so fast that Mrs. Worthington had 
 been unable to put in a word ; but it did riot matter. 
 'Lina was invulnerable to all she could say. She'd go to 
 town that very day and make her purchases. Miss Allis, 
 of course, must be consulted for some of her dresses, while 
 Adah could make the rest. With regard to Miss Alice, 
 they would write to her at once, telling her she was wel 
 come to Spring Bank, and also informing her of their in 
 tentions to come north immediately. She could join 
 them at Saratoga, or, if she preferred, could remain at 
 Snowdon until they returned home in the autumn. 
 
 'Lina's decision with regard to their future movements 
 had been made so rapidly and so determinedly, that Mrs. 
 Worthington had scarcely ventured to expostulate, and 
 the few remonstrances she did advance produced no im 
 pression. 'Lina wrote to Alice Johnson that morning, 
 went to Frankfort that afternoon, to Versailles and Lex 
 ington the next day, and on the morning of the third, af 
 ter the receipt of Mrs. Johnson's letter, Spring Bank prer 
 sented the appearance of one vast show-room, so full of 
 
121 
 
 silks, and muslins, and tissues, and flowers, and ribbons, 
 and laces, while amidst it allj in a maze of perplexity as 
 to what was required of her, or where first to commence, 
 sat Adah, who had come at 'Lina's bidding. 
 
 Womanlike, the sight of 'Lina's dresses awoke in 
 Adah a thrill of delight, and she entered heartily into the 
 matter without a single feeling of envy. 
 
 " I's goin', too. Did you know that ? " Lulu said to 
 her, as she sat bending over a cloud of lace and soft blue 
 silk. 
 
 " You ? For what ? " and Adah lifted her brown eyes 
 inquiringly. 
 
 " Oh, goin' to wait on 'em. It's grand to have a nigger, 
 and Miss 'Lina keeps trainin me how to act and 
 what to say. I ain't to tell how mean Spring Bank is 
 furnished, nor how poor master Hugh is. Nothin' of 
 the kind. We're to be fust cut. Oh, so nice, Miss 'Lina 
 an, Airey, and when we get home, if I does well, I'm to 
 hev that gownd, all mud, what Miss 'Lina wared to the 
 Tiffton party, whew ! " and in the mischievous glance of 
 Lulu's saucy eyes, Adah read that the quick-witted negro 
 was not in the least deceived with regard to the "Airey," 
 as' she called Miss 'Lina. 
 
 Half amused at Lulu's remarks and half sorry that she 
 had listened to them, Adah resumed her work, just as 
 'Lina appeared, saying to her, " Here is Miss Tiffton's 
 square-necked bertha. She's just got home from New 
 York, and says they are all the fashion. You are to cut 
 me a pattern. There's a paper, the Louisville Journal, I 
 guess, but nobody reads it, now Hugh is gone," and with 
 a few more general directions, Lina hurried away, having 
 first tossed into Adah's lap the paper containing Anna 
 Richards' advertisement. 
 
 ,- r v 
 
 In spite of the doctor's predictions and consignment of 
 that girl to Georgia, or some warmer place, it had reached 
 her at last. The compositor had wondered at its wording, 
 
 6 
 
122 HUGH WORTHINGTOl*. 
 
 a few casual readers had wondered at it, too a western 
 editor, laughing jocosely at its " married or unfortunate 
 woman with a child a few months old," had copied it into 
 his columns, thus attracting the attention of his more 
 south-western neighbor, who had thought it too good to 
 lose, and so given it to his readers with sundry remarks 
 of his own. But through all its many changes, Adah's 
 God had watched it, and brought it around to her. She 
 did not see it at first, but just as her scissors were raised 
 to cut the pattern, her eyes fell on the spot headed, " A 
 curious advertisement," and suspending her operations 
 for a moment, she read it through, a feeling rising in her 
 heart that it was surely an answer to her own advertisement 
 sent forth months ago, with tearful prayers that it might 
 be successful. She did not know that " A. E. R." meant it 
 for her, and no one else. She only felt that at Terrace 
 Hall there was a place for her, a home where she would 
 no longer be dependent on Hugh, whose straits she under 
 stood perfectly well, knowing why Rocket was sold, and 
 how it hurt his master to sell him. Oh, if she only could 
 redeem him, no toil, no weariness would be too great ; but 
 she never could, even if " A. E. R." should take her 
 the pay would be so small that Rocket would be old and 
 worthless ere she could earn five hundred dollars ; but she 
 could do something toward it, and her heart grew light and 
 happy as she thought how surprised Hugh would be to 
 receive a letter containing money earned by the feeble 
 Adah, to whom he had been so kind. 
 
 Adah was a famous castle-builder, and she went on 
 rearing castle after castle, until Lina came back again and 
 taking a seat beside her, began to talk so familiarly and 
 pleasantly that Adah felt emboldened to tell her of the 
 advertisement and her intention to answer it. Averse 
 as Lina had at first been to Adah's remaining at 
 Spring Bank, she now saw a channel through which she 
 could be made very useful, and would far rather that she 
 
MRS. JOHNSON'S LETTER. 123 
 
 should remain. So she opposed the plan, urging so many 
 arguments against it that Adah began to think the idea a 
 foolish one, and with a sigh dismissed it from her mind 
 until another time, when she might give it more consider 
 ation. 
 
 That afternoon Ellen Tifilon rode over to see 'Lina, 
 who told her of Alice Johnson, whom they were expect 
 ing. 
 
 " Alice Johnson," Ellen repeated ; " why, that's the 
 girl father says so much about. Fortieth or fiftieth cous 
 in. He was at their house in Boston a few years ago, and 
 when he came home he annoyed me terribly by quoting 
 Alice continually, and comparing me with her. Of course 
 I fell in the scale, for there was nothing like Alice, Alice 
 so beautiful, so refined, so sweet, so amiable, so reli 
 gious? 
 
 " Religious ! " and 'Lina laughed scornfully. Adah pre 
 tends to be religious, too, and so does Sam, while Alice 
 will make three. Pleasant prospects ahead. I wonder 
 if she's the blue kind thinks dancing wicked, and all 
 that." 
 
 Ellen could not tell. She only knew what her father 
 said ; but she did not fancy Miss Alice to be more mo 
 rose or gloomy at all events she would gladly have her for 
 a companion, and she thought it queer that Mrs. Johnson 
 should send her to a stranger, as it were, when they 
 would have been so glad to receive her. " Pa won't like it 
 a bit, I know, and I quite envy you," she said, as she took 
 her leave, her remarks raising Alice largely in 'Lina's 
 estimation, and making her not a little proud that Spring 
 Bank had been selected as Miss Johnson's home. 
 
 One week later, and there came a letter from Alice her 
 self, saying that at present she was stopping in Boston 
 with her guardian, Mr. Liston, who had rented the cottage 
 in Snowdon, but that she would meet Mrs. Worthington 
 and daughter at Saratoga. Of course she did not now 
 
124 HUGH WOKTHINGTON. 
 
 feel like mingling in gay society, and should consequently 
 go to the Columbian, where she could be comparatively 
 quiet ; but this need not interfere with their arrangements, 
 as they could see each other often. 
 
 The same day also brought a letter from Hugh, making 
 many kind inquiries after them all, saying his business was 
 turning out better than he expected, and enclosing forty 
 dollars, fifteen of which, he said, was for Adah, and the 
 rest for Ad, as a peace offering for the harsh things he had 
 said to her. Hugh's conscience when away was always 
 troubling him with regard to 'Lina, and knowing that 
 money with her would atone for a score of sins, he had 
 felt so happy in sending it, giving her the most because he 
 had sinned against her the most. Once the thought sug 
 gested itself that possibly she might keep the whole, but 
 he repudiated it at once as a base slander upon 'Lina. 
 
 Alas, he little suspected the treachery of which she was 
 capable. , As a taste of blood makes wild beasts thirst for 
 more, so Mrs. Johnson's legacy had made 'Lina greedy for 
 gold, and the sight of the smooth paper bills sent to her 
 by Hugh, awoke her avaricious passions. Forty dollars 
 was just the price of a superb pearl bracelet in Lexing 
 ton, and if Hugh had only sent it all to her instead of a 
 part to Adah ! What did Adah want of money, any way, 
 living there in the cornfield, and seeing nobody ? Besides 
 that, hadn't she just paid her three dollars, and a muslin 
 dress, and was that not enough for a girl in her circumstan 
 ces ? Nobody would be the wiser if she kept the whole, 
 for her mother was not present when Claib brought the 
 letter. She'd never know they'd heard from Hugh ; and 
 on the whole she believed she'd keep it, and so she went 
 to Lexington next day in quest of the bracelet, which 
 was pronounced beautiful by the unsuspecting Adah, who 
 never dreamed that her money had helped to pay for it. 
 Truly 'Lina was heaping up against herself a dark cata 
 logue of sin to be avenged some day, but the time was 
 not yet. 
 
SARATOGA. 125 
 
 Thus far every thing went swimmingly. The dresses fit 
 ted admirably, and nothing could exceed the care with which 
 they had been packed. Her mother no longer annoyed her 
 about Hugh. Lulu was quite well posted with regard to 
 her duty. Ellen Tiffton had lent her quizzing-glass and 
 several ornaments, while Irving Stanley, grand-nephew, 
 like Hugh, to Uncle John, was to be at Saratoga, so 'Lin a 
 incidentally heard, and as there was a kind of relationship 
 between them, he would of course notice her more or 
 less, and from all accounts, to be noticed by him was a 
 thing to be desired. 
 
 Thus it was in the best of humors that 'Lina tripped 
 from Spring Bank door one pleasant July morning, and 
 was driven with her mother and Lulu to Lexington, 
 where they intended taking the evening train for Cincin 
 nati. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 SARATOGA. 
 
 " MRS. WORTHINGTON, daughter, and colored servant. 
 Spring Bank, Ky." 
 
 " DR. JOHN RICHARDS and mother, New York City." 
 
 " IRVING STANLEY, Esq., Baltimore." 
 
 These were the last entries made by the clerk at Union 
 Hall, which was so crowded, that for the new comers no 
 rooms were found except the small, uncomfortable ones 
 far up in the fourth story of the Ains worth block, and 
 thither, in not the most amiable mood, 'Lina followed her 
 trunks, and was followed in turn by her mother and Lulu, 
 the crowd whom they passed deciphering the name upon 
 the trunks and whispering to each other, " From Spring 
 Bank, Kentucky. Haughty looking girl, wasn't she ? " 
 
126 HUGH WOBTHINGTON. 
 
 From his little twelve by ten apartment, where the 
 summer sun was pouring in a perfect blaze of heat, Dr. 
 Richards saw them past, and after wondering who they 
 were, gave them no farther thought, but sat jamming his 
 pen-knife into the old worm-eaten table, and thinking 
 savage thoughts against that capricious lady, Fortune, 
 who had compelled him to come to Saratoga, where rich 
 wives were supposed to be had for the asking. Too late 
 he had discovered the ruse imposed on him by Mr. Liston 
 had discovered that Alice was the heiress of more than 
 $50,000, and following the discovery came the mortifying 
 knowledge that not one dime of it would probably ever 
 be used for defraying his personal expenses. Alice had 
 learned how purely sordid and selfish was the man whom 
 she had thought so misunderstood by the Snowdonites, 
 and in Dr. Richard's vest pocket there lay at this very mo 
 ment a note, the meaning of which was that Alice Johnson 
 declined the honor of becoming his wife. They would still 
 be friends, she said ; would meet as if nothing had oc 
 curred, but she could not be his wife. This it was which 
 had brought him to Saratoga, indignant, mortified and 
 desperate. There were other heiresses beside Alice John 
 son others less fastidious ; and he could find them, too. 
 Love was out of the question, as that had died with poor 
 Lily, so that now he was ready for the first chance that 
 offered, provided that chance possessed a certain style, and 
 was tolerably good-looking. He did not see 'Lina at all, 
 for she had passed the door before he looked up, so he 
 only saw the mother, with Lulu trudging obediently be 
 hind, and hearing them enter the room, returned to his 
 cogitations. 
 
 From his pleasanter, airier apartment, on the other side 
 of the narrow hall, Irving Stanley looked through his 
 golden glasses, pitying the poor ladies condemned to that 
 slow roast, thinking how, if he knew them, he would sure 
 ly offer to exchange, as it did not matter so much where a 
 
SARATOGA. 127 
 
 man was stowed away, he was so seldom in his room, while 
 ladies must necessarily spend half their time there at 
 least in dressing ; and with a sigh for unfortunate ladies 
 in general, the kind-hearted Irving Stanley closed his door 
 and proceeded to make his own toilet for dinner, then on 
 ly an hour in the future. 
 
 How hot, and dusty, and cross 'Lina was, and what a 
 look of dismay she cast around the room, with its two 
 bedsteads, its bureaus, its table, its washstand, and its doz 
 en pegs for her two dozen dresses, to say nothing of her 
 mother's. She'd like to know if this was Saratoga, and 
 these its accommodations. It was not fit to put the pigs in, 
 and she wondered what the proprietor was thinking of 
 when he sent her up there. 
 
 " I s'pects he didn't know how you was an Airey? Lu 
 lu said, demurely, her eyes brimming with mischief. 
 
 'Lina turned to box her ears, but the black face was so 
 grave and solemn in its expression that she changed her 
 mind, thinking she had been mistaken in Lulu's ironical 
 tone. 
 
 How tired and faint poor Mrs. Worthington was, and 
 how she wished she had staid at home, like a sensible wo 
 man, instead of coming here to be made so uncomfortable 
 in this hot room. But it could not now be helped, 'Lina 
 said; they must do the best they could ; and with a for 
 lorn glance at the luxuriant patch of weeds, the most prom 
 inent view from the window, 'Lina opened one of her 
 trunks, and spreading a part of the contents upon the bed, 
 began to dress for dinner, changing her mind three times, 
 driving her mother and Lulu nearly distracted, and finally 
 deciding upon a rich green silk, which, with its crimson 
 trimmings, was very becoming to her dark style, but ex 
 cessively hot-looking on that sultry day. But 'Lina meant 
 to make a good first impression. Everything depended 
 upon that, and as the green was the heaviest, richest thing 
 she had, so she would first appear in it. Besides that, the 
 
128 HUGH WOBTHINGTON. 
 
 two young men who had looked at her from the door had 
 not escaped her observation. She had seen them both, de 
 ciding that Dr. Richards was the most distingue of the 
 two, though Irving Stanley was very elegant, very refined, 
 and very intellectual looking in those glasses, which gave 
 him so scholarly an appearance. 'Lina never dreamed 
 that this was Irving Stanley, or she would have occupied 
 far more time in brushing her hair and coiling among its 
 braids the bandeau of pearls borrowed of Ellen Tiffton. 
 As it was, the dinner bell had long since ceased ringing, 
 and the tread of feet ceased in the halls below ere she de 
 scended to the deserted parlor, followed by her mother, 
 nervous and frightened at the prospect of this, her first 
 appearance at Saratoga. 
 
 " Pray, rouse yourself," 'Lina whispered, as she saw 
 how white she was, when she learned that their seats 
 were at the extreme end of the dining-room that in 
 order to reach it, nearly one thousand pair of eyes must 
 be encountered, and one thousand glances braved. 
 " Rouse yourself, do ; and not let them guess you were 
 never at a watering-place before," and 'Lina thoughtfully 
 smoothed her mother's cap by way of reassuring her. 
 
 But even 'Lina herself quailed when she reached the 
 door and caught a glimpse of the busy life within, the ter 
 rible ordeal she must pass. 
 
 " Oh, for a pair of pantaloons to walk beside one, even 
 if Hugh were in them," she thought, as her own and her 
 mother's lonely condition rose before her. 
 
 But Hugh was watching a flat boat on the Mississippi, 
 that summer afternoon, and as there was no other person 
 on whom she had a claim, she must meet her. fate alone. 
 
 " Courage, mother," she whispered again, and then ad 
 vanced into the room, growing bolder at every step, for 
 with one rapid glance she had swept the hall, and felt 
 that amid that bevy of beauty and fashion there were 
 few more showy than 'Lina Worthington in her rustling 
 
dress of green, with Ellen Tiffton's bracelet on one arm ; 
 and the one bought with Adah's money on the other. 
 
 " Here, madam," and their conductor pointed to chairs 
 directly opposite Dr. Richards, watching them as they 
 came up to the hall, and deciding that the young lady's 
 arms were most too white for her dark skin, and her 
 cheeks a trifle too red. 
 
 "It's put on skillfully, though," he thought, while the 
 showily dressed old lady beside him whispered, 
 
 " What elegant bracelets, and handsome point lace col 
 lar! "just as 'Lina haughtily ordered the servant to move 
 her chair a little farther from the table. 
 
 Bowing deferentially, the polite attendant quickly drew 
 back her chair, while she spread out her flowing skirts to 
 an extent which threatened to envelop her mother, sink 
 ing meekly into'her seat, confused and flurried. - But alas 
 for 'Lina. The servant did not calculate the distance 
 aright, and the lady, who had meant to do the thing so 
 gracefully, who had intended showing the people that she 
 had been to Saratoga before, suddenly found herself, 
 prostrate upon the floor, her chair some way behind her, 
 and the plate, which, in her descent, she had grasped un 
 consciously, flying off diagonally past her mother's head, 
 and fortunately past the head of her mother's left-hand 
 neighbor. 
 
 Poor 'L'ina ! How she wished she might never get up 
 again. How she hoped the floor beneath would open and 
 swallow her up, and how she mentally anathematized the 
 careless negro, choking with suppressed laughter behind 
 her. As she struggled to arise she was vaguely conscious 
 that a white hand was stretched out to help her, that the 
 same hand smoothed her dress and held her chair 
 safely. Too much chagrined to think who it was render 
 ing her these little attentions, she took her seat, glancing 
 up and down the table to witness the effect of her 
 mishap. 
 
 6* 
 
130 HUGH WOBTHINGTON. 
 
 There was a look of consternation on Dr. Richards' 
 face, but he was too well bred to, laugh, or even to smile, 
 though there was a visible desire to do so, an expression, 
 which 'Lina construed into contempt for her awkwardness, 
 and then he went on with his previous occupation, that 
 of crumbling his bread and scanning the ladies near, while 
 waiting for the next course. There was also a look of 
 surprise in the face of the lady next to him, and then she 
 too occupied herself with something else. 
 
 At first, 'Lina thought nothing could keep her tears 
 back, they gathered so fast in her eyes, and her voice 
 trembled so that she could not answer the servant's ques 
 tion, 
 
 " Soup, madam, soup?" 
 
 But he of the white hand did it for her. 
 
 " Of course she'll take soup," then in an aside, he said 
 to her gently, "Never mind, you are not the first lady 
 who has been served in that way. It's quite a common 
 occurrence." There was something reassuring in his voice, 
 and turning toward him 'Lina caught the gleam of the 
 golden glasses, and knew that her vis-a-vis up stairs was 
 also her right-hand neighbor. How grateful she felt for 
 his kind attentions, paid so delicately, and with an evi 
 dent desire to shield her from remark, and how she won 
 dered who he was, as he tried, by numberless unobtrusive 
 acts, to quiet her. 
 
 Kind and gentle as a woman, Irving Stanley was some 
 times laughed at by his own sex, as too gentle, too 
 feminine in disposition ; but those who knew him best 
 loved him most, and loved him, too, just because he was 
 not so stern, so harsh, so overbearing as men are wont to be. 
 A woman was a sacred piece of mechanism to him a 
 something to be. petted, humored and caressed, and still 
 treated as an equal. The most considerate of sons, the 
 most affectionate of brothers, he was idolized at home, 
 while the society in whi'ch he mingled, knew no greater 
 
SARATOGA. 131 
 
 favorite, and 'Lina might well be thankful that her lot was 
 cast so near him. He did not talk to her at the table fur 
 ther than a few commonplace remarks, but when after 
 dinner was over, and his Havana smoked, he found her 
 siuing with her mother out in the grove, apart from 
 everybody, and knew that they were there alone, he 
 went to them, and ere many minutes had elapsed discovered 
 to his surprise that they were his so called cousins from 
 Kentucky. Nothing could exceed 'Lina's delight. He 
 was there unfettered by mother or sister or sweetheart, 
 and of course would attach himself exclusively to her. 
 'Lina was very happy, and more than once her loud laugh 
 rang out so loud that Irving, with all his charity, had a 
 faint suspicion that round his Kentucky cousin, there 
 might linger a species of coarseness, not altogether 
 agreeable to one of his refinement. Still he sat chatting 
 with her until the knowing dowagers, who year after year 
 watch such things at Saratoga, whispered behind their 
 fans of a flirtation between the elegant Mr. Stanley and 
 that haughty-looking girl from Kentucky. 
 
 " I never saw him so familiar with a stranger upon so 
 short an acquaintance," said Mrs. Buford, whose three 
 daughters would any one of them have exchanged their 
 name for Stanley. "I wonder if he knew her before. Up 
 on my word, that laugh of her's is rather coarse, let her 
 be who she will." 
 
 " Yes, but that silk never cost less than three dollars a 
 yard at Stewart's. See the lustre there is on it," and old 
 Mrs. Richards, who had brought herself into the field by 
 way of assisting her son in his campaign, levelled her glass 
 at 'Lina's green silk, showing well in the bright sunlight- 
 " Here, John," she called to her son, who was passing, 
 " can you tell me who that young lady is the one who 
 so very awkwardly sat down upon the floor at dinner ? " 
 
 " I do not know, and I cannot say that I wish to," was 
 the nonchalant reply, as the doctor took the vacant chair 
 
132 HUGH WOBTHINGTON. 
 
 his mother had so long been keeping for him. " I hardly 
 fancy her, style. She's too brusque to suit me, though 
 Irving Stanley seems to find her agreeable." 
 
 " Is that Irving Stanley?" and Mrs. Richards levelled 
 her glass again, for Irving Stanley was not unknown to 
 her by reputation. " She must be somebody, John, or he 
 would not notice her," and she spoke in an aside, adding 
 in a louder tone, " I wonder who she is. There's their ser 
 vant. I mean to question her," and as Lulu came near, 
 she said, " Girl, who do you belong to ? " 
 
 " 'Longs to them," jerking her head toward 'Lina and 
 Mrs. Worthington. 
 
 " Where do you live ? " was the next query, and Lulu 
 replied. 
 
 " Spring Bank, Kentucky. Missus live in big house, 
 most as big as this." Then anxious to have the ordeal 
 passed, and fearful that she might not acquit herself satis 
 factorily to 'Lina, who, without seeming to notice her, had 
 drawn near enough to hear, she. added, " Miss 'Lina is an 
 
 airey, a very large airey, and has a heap of of 
 
 Lulu hardly knew what, but finally in desperation added, 
 " a heap of ars," and then fled away ere another question 
 could be asked her. 
 
 " What did she say she was ? " Mrs. Richards asked, 
 and the doctor replied, 
 
 " She said an airey. She meant an heiress." 
 
 " Oh, yes, an heiress. I don't doubt it, from her ap 
 pearance, and Mr. Stanley's attentions. Stylish looking, 
 isn't she ? " 
 
 " Rather, yes magnificent eyes at all events," and the 
 doctor stroked his mustache thoughtfully, while his moth 
 er, turning to Mrs. Buford, began to compliment 'Lina'S 
 form, and the fit of her dress. 
 
 Money, or the reputation of possessing money, is an all 
 powerful charm, and in a few places does it show its pow 
 er more plainly than at Saratoga, where it was soon known 
 
SARATOGA. 133 
 
 that the lady from Spring Bank was heiress to immense 
 wealth in Kentucky, how immense nobody knew, and va 
 rious were the estimates put upon it. Among Mrs. Bu- 
 ford's clique it was twenty thousand ; farther away and 
 in another hall it was fifty, while Mrs. Richards, ere the 
 supper hour arrived, had heard that it was at least a hun 
 dred thousand dollars. How or where she heard it she 
 hardly knew, but she endorsed the statement as correct, 
 and at the tea table that night was exceedingly gracious 
 to 'Lina and her mother, offering to divide a little private 
 dish which she had ordered for herself, and into which 
 poor Mrs. Worthington inadvertently dipped, never 
 dreaming that it was not common property. 
 
 "It was not of the slightest consequence, Mrs. Richards 
 was delighted to share it with her," and that was the way 
 the conversation commenced. 
 
 'Lina knew now that the proud man whose lip had 
 curled so scornfully at dinner, was Dr. Richards, and Dr. 
 Richards knew that the girl who sat on the floor was 'Li 
 na Worthington, from Spring Bank, where Alice Johnson 
 was going. 
 
 " I did not gather from Mr. Liston that these Worth- 
 ingtons were wealthy," he said to himself, "but if the old 
 codger would deceive me with regard to Miss Johnson, he 
 would with regard to them," and mentally resolving to 
 make an impression before they could see and talk with 
 Alice, the doctor was so polite that 'Lina scarcely knew 
 whose attentions to prefer, his or Irving Stanley's, who, 
 rather glad of a co-worker, yielded the field without a 
 struggle, and by the time tea was over the doctor's star 
 was in the ascendant. 
 
 How 'Lina wanted to stay in the crowded parlors, but 
 her mother had so set her heart upon seeing Alice John 
 son, that she was forced to humor her, and repaired to her 
 room to make a still more elaborate toilet, as she wished 
 to impress Miss Johnson with a sense of her importance. 
 
134 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 A pale blue silk, with white roses in her hair, was final 
 ly decided upon, and when, just as the gas was lighted, 
 she descended with her mother to the parlor, her opera 
 cloak thrown gracefully around her uncovered shoulders, 
 and Ellen Tiffton's glass in her hand, she had the satisfac 
 tion of knowing that she created quite a sensation, and 
 that others than Dr. Richards looked after her admiringly 
 as she swept through the room, followed by her mother 
 and Lulu, the latter of whom was answering no earthly 
 purpose save to show that they had a servant. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE COLUMBIAN. 
 
 It was very quiet at the Columbian, and the few gen 
 tlemen seated upon the piazza seemed to be of a different 
 stamp from those at the more fashionable houses, as there 
 were none of them smoking, nor did they stare imperti 
 nently at the gayly dressed lady coming up the steps, 
 and inquiring of the clerk if Miss Alice Johnson were 
 there. 
 
 " Yes, she was, and her room was No. . Should he 
 send up the lady's card ? Miss Johnson had mostly kept 
 her room." 
 
 'Lina had brought no card, but she gave her name and 
 passed on into the parlor, which afforded a striking con 
 trast to the bee-hive down town. In a corner two or 
 three were sitting ; another group occupied a window ; 
 while at the piano were two more, an old and a young 
 lady ; the latter of whom was seated upon the stool, and 
 with her foot upon the soft pedal, was alternately strik 
 ing a few sweet musical chords, and talking to her com 
 panion, who seemed to be a servant. Taking her seat 
 
THE COLUMBIAN. 135 
 
 near these last, 'Lina watched them curiously ; a thought 
 once crossing her mind that this might be Alice ,7bhnson 
 But no ; Alice, of course, would be habited in deepest 
 black, while the dress this lady wore was a simple, pure 
 white, unrelieved by any color save the jet bracelets upon 
 the snowy arms and the jet pin at the throat. This was 
 not Alice sure, and she felt glad to know it^for she would 
 rather that Alice Johnson should be a shade less lovely 
 than the young girl before her. How dazzling she was 
 in her radiant beauty, with all that wealth of chestnut 
 hair shading her fair brow and falling almost to her waist ; 
 but the soft, dreamy eyes of blue, with their long silken 
 lashes, were to 'Lina the chief attraction. None could 
 withstand those eyes, now cast down upon the keys as 
 if heavy with unshed tears, and now upraised to the 
 woman beside her who appeared to regard her with a spe 
 cies of adoration, occasionally laying her hand caress 
 ingly upon the sunny hair, and letting it slide down until 
 it rested upon the shoulder. 
 
 As the minutes went by 'Lina grew very impatient at 
 Alice's long delay. 
 
 " I mean to ring," she said, just as the servant to whom 
 she had delivered her message appeared. 
 
 Very haughtily 'Lina asked if he had found Miss. John 
 son. " If she's not in, we don't care to stay here all 
 night," she said, angrily, whereupon she became conscious 
 that the blue eyes of the lady were fixed inquiringly 
 upon her, as if wondering how a well bred person could 
 betray so much ill nature. 
 
 " Miss Johnson ? I beg pardon, I supposed you knew 
 her and had found her, as she was iiThere. This is Miss 
 Johnson," and the waiter bowed toward the musician, 
 who, quick as thought seized upon the truth, and spring 
 ing to Mrs. Worthington's side, exclaimed, 
 
 " It's Mrs. Worthington, I know. Why did you sit 
 here so long without speaking to me ? I am Alice John 
 son," and overcome with emotions awakened by the sight 
 
136 HUGH WOKTHINGTO^. 
 
 of her mother's early friend, Alice hid her face with child 
 like confidence in Mrs. Worthington's bosom, and sobbed 
 for a moment bitterly. 
 
 Then growing calm, she lifted up her head, and smil 
 ing through her tears, said, 
 
 " Forgive me for this introduction. It is not often I 
 give way, ibr I know and am sure it was best and right 
 that mother should die. I am not rebellious now, but the 
 sight of you brought it back so vividly. You'll be my 
 mother, won't you ? " and the impulsive girl nestled clos 
 er to Mrs. Worthington, looking up into her face with a 
 confiding affection which won a place for her at once in 
 Mrs. Worthington's heart. 
 
 "My darling," she said, winding her arm around her 
 waist, " as far as I can I will be to you a mother, and 
 ''Lina shall be your sister. This -is 'Lina, and she turned 
 to 'Lina, who, piqued at having been so long unnoticed, 
 was frowning gloomily. 
 
 But 'Lina never met a glance purer or more free from 
 guile than that which Alice gave her, and it disarmed her 
 at once of all jealousy, making her return the orphan's 
 kisses with as much apparent cordiality as they had been 
 given. 
 
 Sitting down beside them Alice made many inquiries 
 concerning Kentucky, startling them with the anouncement 
 that as she had that day received a letter from Col. 
 Tiffton, who she believed was a friend of theirs, urging 
 her to come on at once, and spend a few weeks with 
 him, she had about decided to do so, and only waited for 
 Mrs. Worthington's advice ere answering the colonel's 
 friendly letter. They heard from you what were mother's 
 plans for my future, and also that I was to meet you 
 here. They must be very thoughtful people, for they 
 seem to know that I cannot be very happy here." 
 
 For a moment, 'Lina and Jier mother looked aghast, and 
 neither knew what to say. 'Lina, as usual, was the first 
 
THE COLUMBIAN. 137 
 
 to rally and calculate results. Had Alice been less beauti 
 ful she would have opposed her going to Colonel Tiffton's 
 where she might possibly hear something unfavorable of 
 herself from Ellen, but, as it was, it might be well enough 
 to get rid of her, as she was sure to prove a most formid 
 able rival. Thus it was pure selfishness which prompted 
 her to adopt the most politic course which presented it 
 self to her mind. 
 
 " They were very intimate at Colonel Tiffton's. She 
 and Ellen were fast friends. It was very pleasant there, 
 more so than at Spring Bank ; and all the objection she 
 could see to Alice's going was the fear lest she should be 
 come so much attached to Moss Side, the colonel's resi 
 dence, as to be homesick at Spring Bank." 
 
 Against this Alice disclaimed at once. She was not 
 apt to be homesick. She had made up her mind to be 
 happy at Spring Bank, and presumed she should. 
 
 " I am so glad you approve my plan, for my heart is 
 really set on going," and she turned to Mrs. Worthington, 
 who had not spoken yet. 
 
 It was not what she had expected, and she hardly knew 
 what to say, though, of course, " she should acquiesce in 
 whatever Alice and 'Lina thought best." 
 
 "If she's going, I hope she'll. go .before Dr. Richards 
 sees her, though perhaps he knows her already his 
 mother lives in Snowdon," 'Lina thought, and rather 
 abruptly she asked if Alice knew Dr. Richards, who was 
 staying at the Union. 
 
 Alice blushed crimson as she replied, 
 
 "Yes, I know him well, and his family, too. 
 
 " His mother is here," 'Lina continued, " and I like her 
 so much. She is very familiar and friendly, don't you 
 think so ? " 
 
 Alice would not tell a lie, and she answered frankly, 
 
 " She does not bear that name in Snowdon. They 
 consider her very haughty there. I think you must be a 
 favorite." 
 
138 HUGH WORTIIINGTOX. 
 
 " Are they very aristocratic and wealthy ? " 'Lina asked, 
 and Alice answered, 
 
 "Aristocratic, but not wealthy. They were very kind 
 to me, and the doctor's sister Anna is one of the sweetest 
 ladies I ever knew." Then as if anxious to change the 
 conversation she spoke of Hugh. Where was he now ? 
 How did he look, and should she like him ? 
 
 'Lina and her mother exchanged rapid glances, and 
 then, in spite of the look of entreaty visible on Mrs. Wor- 
 thington's face, 'Lina replied, 
 
 " To be candid with you, Miss Johnson, I'm afraid you 
 won't like Hugh. He has many good traits, but I'm sor 
 ry to say we have never succeeded in cultivating him one 
 particle, so that he is very rough and boorish in his man 
 ner, and will undoubtedly strike you unfavorably. I may 
 as well tell you of this, as you will probably hear it from 
 Ellen Tiffton, and must know it when you see him. He 
 is not popular with the ladies ; he hates them all, unless 
 it is a Mrs. Hastings, whom he took in from the street." 
 
 Alice looked up inquiringly, while 'Lina began to tell 
 her of Adah. She had not proceeded far, however, when 
 with a cry of terror she sprang up as a large beetle, attract 
 ed by the light, fastened itself upon her hair. 
 
 Mrs. Worthington was the first to the rescue, while Lu 
 lu, who had listened with flashing eye when Hugh was 
 the subject of remark, came laggardly, whispering slily to 
 Alice, 
 
 " That's a lie she done tell you about Mas'r Hugh. He 
 ain't rough nor bad, and we blacks would die for him any 
 day." 
 
 Alice was confounded by this flat contradiction between 
 mistress and servant, while a faint glimmer of the truth 
 began to dawn upon her. The " horn-bug " being dispos 
 ed of, 'Lina became quiet, and might, perhaps, have taken 
 up Hugh again, but for a timely interruption in the shape 
 of Irving Stanley, who had walked up to the Columbian, 
 
THE COLUMBIAN. 139 
 
 and seeing 'Lina and her mother through the window, 
 sauntered leisurely into the parlor. 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Stanley," and 'Lina half rose from her chair, 
 thus intimating that he was to join them. "Miss John 
 son, Mr. Stanley," and she watched jealously to see what 
 effect Alice's beauty would have upon the young man. 
 
 He was evidently pleased, an-d this was a sufficient rea 
 son for 'Lina to speak of returning. She would not has 
 ten Mr. Stanley, she said, but Irving arose at once and 
 bidding Alice good night, accompanied the ladies back to 
 Union hall, where Mrs. Richards sat fanning herself in 
 dustriously, and watching John with motherly interest as 
 he sauntered from one group of ladies to another, won 
 dering what made Saratoga so dull, and where Miss Wor- 
 thington had gone. It is not to be supposed that Dr. 
 Richards cared a fig -for Miss Worthington as Miss Wbr- 
 tMngton. It was simply her immense figure he admired, 
 and as, during the evening, he had heard on good au 
 thority that said figure was made up mostly of cotton 
 growing on some Southern field, the exact locality of 
 which his informant did not know, he had decided that of 
 course Miss 'Lina's fortune was over estimated. Such 
 things always were, but still she must be wealthy. He 
 had no doubt of that, and he might as well devote him 
 self to her as to wait for some one else. Accordingly, the 
 moment he spied her in the crowd he joined her, asking 
 if they should not take a little turn up and down the pi 
 azza. 
 
 " Wait till I ask mamma's permission to stay up a lit 
 tle longer. She always insists upon my keeping such ear 
 ly hours," was 'Lina's very filial and childlike reply as 
 she walked up to mamma, not to ask permission, but to 
 whisper rather peremptorily, " Dr. Richards wishes me to 
 walk with him, and as you are tired you may as well go to 
 bed." 
 
 Mrs. Worthington was tired, but motherlike, she 
 
140 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 thought it would be pleasant to stay where she could see 
 her daughter walking with Dr. Richards, and then, too, 
 she wanted to hear the band playing in the court. 
 
 " Oh, I ain't very tired," she said. " I begin to feel rest 
 ed, and I guess I'll set a little while with Mrs. Richards 
 on the sofa yonder. She seems like one of our folks." 
 
 'Lina did not care to leave her truthful, matter of-fact 
 mother with Mrs. Richards, so she said, rather angrily, 
 
 " How do you know Mrs. Richards wants you to sit by 
 her ? She has her own set, and you are not much acquaint 
 ed ; besides, I shall feel easier to know you are up stairs. 
 Go, do. He's waiting for me," and in the black eyes there 
 was a gleam which Mrs. Worthington always obeyed. 
 
 With a sigh, and a lingering glance at the comfortable 
 sofa, where Mrs. Richards sat in solemn state, she left the 
 camparatively cool parlor, and climbing the weary flights 
 of stairs, entered her hot, sultry room, and laying her head 
 upon the table, cried a grieved kind of cry, as she recalled 
 'Lina's selfishness and evident desire to be rid of her. 
 
 " She's ashamed of me," and the chin quivered as the 
 white lips whispered it. " She wants me out of the way 
 for fear I'll do something to mortify her. Oh, 'Lina, 'Lina, 
 I'm glad I've got one child who is not ashamed of his 
 mother," and the tears dropped like rain upon the table, as 
 Mrs. Worthington remembered Hugh, longing for him so 
 much, and reproaching herself so bitterly for having con. 
 sented to receive Alice Johnson without even consulting 
 him. "I'll write to-night," she said. "I'll confess the 
 whole," and glad of something to occupy her mind, Mrs. 
 Worthington took out her writing materials, and com 
 menced the letter, which should have been written long 
 before. 
 
 Meantime the doctor and 'Lina were walking up and 
 down the long piazza, chatting gayly, arid attracting much 
 attention from 'Lina's loud manner of talking and laugh 
 ing. 
 
THE COLUMBIAN. 141 
 
 " By the way, I've called on Miss Johnson, at the Co 
 lumbian," she said. " Beautiful, isn't she ? " 
 
 " Ra-ather pretty, some would think," and the doctor 
 had an uncomfortable consciousness of the refusal, in his 
 vest pocket. 
 
 If Alice had told ; but no, he knew her better than that. 
 He could trust her on that score, and so the dastardly 
 coward affected to sneer at what he called her primness, 
 charging 'Lina to be careful what she did, if she did 
 not want a lecture, and asking if there were any ragged 
 children in Kentucky, as she would not be happy unless 
 she was running a Sunday school ! 
 
 " She can teach the negroes ! Capital ! " and 'Lina 
 laughed so loudly that Mrs. Richards joined them, laugh 
 ing, too, at what she did not know, only " Miss Worthing- 
 ton had such spirits ; it did one good ; and she wished An-, 
 na was there to be enlivened. Write to her John, won't 
 you ? " 
 
 John mentally thought it doubtful. Anna and 'Lina 
 would never assimilate, and he would rather not have his 
 pet sister's opinion to combat until his own was fully made 
 up. 
 
 As it was growing rather late Mrs. Richards ere long 
 expressed a wish to retire, and hoping to see more of 
 Miss Worthington to-morrow, she bowed good night, and 
 left the doctor alone with 'Lina. 
 
 But, somehow, he did not get on well without his moth 
 er. There was nothing in common between himself and 
 'Lina, except deception. She had read but little, and 
 only talked well on commonplace matters, of which he 
 soon grew tired. But she was rich, and perfectly willing 
 to be admired by him, so he put aside his weariness, and 
 chatted with her until the parlors were deserted, and the 
 servants came to extinguish some of the burners. 
 
 " She had no idea it was so late, or she would not have 
 staid for anything, He must excuse her. What would 
 
142 HUGH WORTHINGTON". 
 
 mamma think ? " and bidding him good night, 'Lina hur 
 ried up to where mamma sat waiting for her, the traces 
 of tears still on her patient face, which looked white and 
 worn. 
 
 " In the name of the people, what are you sitting up 
 for?" was Lina's first remark, followed by a glowing ac 
 count of what Dr. Richards had said, and the delightful 
 time she'd had. "Only play our cards well, and I'm sure 
 to go home the doctor's fiancee. The doctor thinks I'm 
 very rich. So do all the people here. Lulu has told that 
 I'm an heiress ; now don't you upset it all with your 
 squeamishness about the truth. Nobody will ask you 
 how much I'm worth, so you won't be compelled to a lie 
 direct. Just keep your own counsel, and leave the rest to 
 me. Will you?" 
 
 There was, as usual, a feeble remonstrance, and then 
 the weak woman yielded so far as promising to keep 
 silent was concerned, but she asked timidly, 
 
 " What will you do if you succeed ? He must then 
 know how you've deceived him." 
 
 " Humph ! so far, it will be an easy thing. 
 
 <c He thinks I am rich, and I am supposed to think- he 
 is. It's no thanks to him that I know better. But they 
 are very aristocratic, and family position is sometimes 
 better than money. On the whole, I prefer it to wealth. 
 " It will be something in this wise," she continued ; " after 
 the honeymoon is past, and my lord hears nothing about 
 bank stock, negroes r lands, he'll come straight out, and 
 say, ' Mrs. Richards, I supposed you were rich ! ' while 
 Mrs. Richards would retort, ' And I thought you were 
 rich ! ' Don't you see, it will be an equal thing, and 
 I shall take my chance." 
 
 Meantime the doctor sat in his own room near by, 
 thinking of 'Lina Worthington, and wishing she were a 
 little more refined. 
 
 "Where does she get that coarseness?" he thought. 
 
THE COLUMBIAN. 143 
 
 " Not from her mother, certainly. She seems very gentle 
 and lady-like. It must be from the Worthingtons," and 
 the doctor wondered where he had heard that name be 
 fore, and why it affected him rather unpleasantly, bring 
 ing with it memories of Lily. " Poor Lily," he sighed 
 mentally. "Your love would have made me a better 
 man if I had not cast it from me. Dear Lily, the moth 
 er of my child," and a tear half trembled in his eye lash 
 es, as he tried to fancy that child ; tried to hear the pat 
 ter of the little feet running to welcome him home, as 
 they might have done had he been true to Lily ; tried to 
 hear the baby voice calling him " papa ; " to feel the baby 
 hands upon his face his bearded face where the 
 great tears were standing now. " I did love Lily," he 
 murmured ; " and had I known of the child I never could 
 have left her. Oh, Lily, come back to me, come ! " and 
 his arms were stretched out into empty space, as if he fain 
 would encircle again the girlish form he had so often held 
 in his embrace. 
 
 It was very late ere Dr. Richards slept that night, and 
 the morning found him pale, haggard, and nearly 
 desperate. Thoughts of Lily all were gone, and in their 
 place was a fixed determination to follow on in the course 
 he jiad marked out, to find him a rich wife, to cast remorse 
 to the winds, and be as happy as he could. In this state 
 of feeling 'Lina did not find it hard to keep him at her side, 
 notwithstanding that Alice herself came down in the 
 course of the day. Mrs. Richards had not quite given 
 up all hopes of Alice, and she received her very cordially, 
 watching closely when the doctor joined them. A 
 casual observer would not have seen the flush on Alice's 
 cheek or the pallor upon his, so soon both came and 
 passed away, but they did not escape 'Lina's notice, and 
 she felt glad when told that she intended starting for 
 Kentucky on the morrow. 
 
 " So soon," she said faintly, feeling that something like 
 
144 HUGH WORTHINGTOltf. 
 
 remonstrance was expected from her, but Alice was not 
 in the least suspicious, and when next day she stood at the 
 depot with Mrs. Worthington and 'Lina she never dreamed 
 how glad the latter was, in knowing that the coming 
 train would take away one whom she dreaded as a rival. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 HUGH. 
 
 An unexpected turn in Hugh's affairs made it no longer 
 necessary for him to remain in the sultry climate of New 
 Orleans, and just one week from his mother's departure 
 from Spring Bank he reached it, expressing unbounded 
 surprise when he heard from Aunt Eunice where his 
 mother had gone, and how she had gone. 
 
 " Fool and his money soon parted," Hugh said, 
 
 " But who is that woman, the one who sent the 
 money?" 
 
 " A Mrs. Johnson, an old friend of your mother," 
 Aunt Eunice replied, while Hugh looked up quickly, 
 wondering why the Johnsons should be so continually 
 thrust upon him, when the only Johnson for whom he 
 cared was dead years ago. 
 
 " And the young lady what about, her?" he asked, 
 
 while Aunt Eunice told him the little she knew, which 
 
 was that Mrs. Johnson wished her daughter to come to 
 
 Spring Bank, but she did not know what they had con- 
 
 ' eluded upon. 
 
 " That she should not come, of course," Hugh said. 
 " They had no right to give her a home without my con 
 sent, and I've plenty of young ladies at Spring Bank now. 
 Oh, it was such a relief when I was gone to know that in 
 
HUGH. 145 
 
 all New Orleans there was not a single hoop annoyed on 
 my account. I had a glorious time doing as I pleased," 
 and helping his aunt to mount the horse which had brought 
 her to Spring Bank, Hugh returned to the house, which 
 seemed rather lonely, notwithstanding that he had so of 
 ten wished he could once more be alone, just as he was 
 before his mother came. 
 
 On the whole, however, he enjoyed his freedom from re 
 straint, and very rapidly fell back into his old loose way 
 of living, bringing his dogs into the parlor, and making it 
 a repository for both his hunting and fishing apparatus. 
 
 " It's splendid to do as I'm a mind to," he said, one hot 
 August morning, nearly three weeks after his mother's de 
 parture, as with his box of worms upon the music stool, 
 in the little room which 'Lina claimed as exclusively her 
 own, he sat mending his long fish line, whistling merrily, 
 and occasionally thrusting back from his forehead the mass 
 of curling hair, which somewhat obstructed his vision. 
 
 Around him upon the floor lay half a dozen dogs, some 
 asleep, and others eyeing his movements curiously, as if 
 they knew and appreciated what he was doing. 
 
 " There isn't a finer lot of dogs in Kentucky," soliloquiz 
 ed the young man, as he ran his eye over them ; " but 
 wouldn't my lady at Saratoga rave if she knew I'd taken 
 her boudoir for a kennel, and kept my bootjack, my black 
 ing brush, and Sunday shirts all on her piano ! Good place 
 for them, so handy to get at, though I don't suppose it's 
 quite the thing to live so like a savage. Halloo, Mug, what 
 do you want ? " he asked, as a little mulatto girl appeared 
 in the door. 
 
 " Claib done buy you this yer," and the child handed 
 him the letter from his mother, which had been to New 
 Orleans was forwarded from there. 
 
 The first of it was full of affection for her boy, and Hugh 
 felt his heart growing very tender as he read, but when 
 he reached the point where poor, timid Mrs.Worthingtou 
 7 
 
146 HUGH WORTFIINGTOX. 
 
 tried to explain about Alice, making a wretched bungle, 
 and showing plainly how much she was swayed by 'Lina, it 
 began to harden at once. 
 
 " What the plague ! " he exclaimed as he read on, 
 " Supposes I remember having heard her speak of her old 
 school friend, Alice Morton? I don't remember any such 
 thing. Her daughter's name's Alice Alice Johnson? 
 and Hugh for an instant turned white, so powerfully that 
 name always affected him. 
 
 Soon rallying, however, he continued, " Heiress to fifty 
 thousand dollars. Unfortunate Alice Johnson ! better be 
 lying beside the Golden Haired ; but what ! actually com 
 ing to Spring Bank, a girl worth fifty thousand, the most 
 refined, most elegant, most beautiful creature that ever 
 was born, ooming where ./am, without my consent, too! 
 That's cool upon my word ! " and for a moment Hugh 
 went off in a towering passion, declaring " he wouldn't 
 Btand it, and bringing his foot down upon the little bare 
 toes of Muggins, crouched upon the floor beside him. 
 
 Her loud outcry brought him to himself, and after quiet 
 ing her as well as he could, he finished his mother's letter, 
 chafing terribly at the thought of a strange young lady be 
 ing thrust upon him whether he would have her or not. 
 
 " She is going to Colonel Tiffton's first, though they've 
 all got the typhoid fever, I hear, and that's no place for 
 her. That fever is terrible on Northerners terrible on 
 anybody. I'm afraid of it myself, and I wish this horrid 
 throbbing I've felt for a few days would leave my head. 
 It has a fever feel that I don't like," and the young man 
 pressed his hand against his temples, trying to beat back 
 the pain which so much annoyed him. 
 
 Just then Colonel Tiffton was announced, his face wear 
 ing an anxious look, and his voice trembling as he told 
 how sick his Nell was, how sick they all were, and then 
 spoke of Alice Johnson. 
 
 " She's the same girl I told you about the day I bought 
 
HUGfH. 147 
 
 Rocket; some little kin to me, and that makes it queer 
 why her mother should leave her to you. I knew she 
 would not be happy at Saratoga, and so we wrote for hei 
 to visit us. She is on the road now, will be here day af 
 ter to-morrow, and something must be done. She can't 
 come to us, without great inconvenience to ourselves and 
 serious danger to her. Hugh, my boy, there's no other 
 way she must come to Spring Bank," and the old col 
 onel laid his hand on that of Hugh, who looked at him 
 aghast, but made no immediate reply. 
 
 He saw at a glance that Alice could not go to Moss Side 
 with impunity, and if not there she must, of course come 
 to Spring Bank. 
 
 " What can I do with her? Oh, Colonel, it makes me 
 sweat like rain just to think of it, and my head thumps 
 like a mill-hopper, but, I suppose, there's no help for it. 
 You'll meet her at the depot. You'll give her an inkling 
 of what I am. You'll tell her what a savage she may ex 
 pect to find, so she won't go into fits at sight of me." 
 
 "Yes, yes, I'll fix it; but, I thought, maybe, you'd have 
 Aunt Eunice come over till your mother's return. Wo 
 men are gossipping things, and they'd talk if she was to 
 live here alone with you. I tell you, she's handsome ; and 
 if I's you, I'd be a little good, that is, I wouldn't walk the 
 lots Sundays, but go to church instead." 
 
 " I always do, sir," and Hugh spoke quickly, for slowly, 
 surely, Adah Hastings was influencing him for good, 
 and more changes than one were already apparent in 
 him. 
 
 " That's right," rejoined the colonel. " Going to church 
 is well enough for them that like it, which I can't say I 
 do, but I'll see her, I'll meet her ; I'll tell her. Good bye, 
 my boy. Now, I think of it, you look mighty nigh sick. 
 Your face is as red as a beetle, and eyes kind of blood 
 shot. The very way my wife looked. Are you sick ? " 
 
148 HUGH 
 
 " No, not sick, but this hot weather affects my head 
 which feels much as if there were a snare-drum inside." 
 
 " No, that ain't the symptom. My wife's felt like abum- 
 ble-bee's nest. You are all right if you'll take an emetic, 
 a good big one, such as will turn your stomach inside out. 
 Good bye Nelly's awful sick. Struck to her brain last 
 night. Good bye. I wouldn't lose Nell for a farm, if she 
 is a little gritty," and wringing Hugh's hand, the colonel 
 hurried off, leaving Hugh to his own reflections. 
 
 " A pretty state of things, and a pretty place to bring 
 a young lady," he muttered, glancing ruefully round the 
 room, and ennumerating the different articles he knew 
 were out of place. " Fish-worms, fish-hooks, fish-lines, 
 boot-jack, boot-blacking, and rifle, to say nothing of the 
 dogs and ME !" 
 
 The last was said in a tone as if the me were the most 
 objectionable part of the whole, as, indeed, Hugh thought 
 it was. 
 
 " I wonder how I do look to persons wholly unpreju 
 diced ! " Hugh said, and turning to Muggins he asked what 
 she thought of him. 
 
 " I thinks you berry nice. I likes you berry much," the 
 child replied, and Hugh continued, 
 
 " Yes ; but how do I look, I mean ? What do I look 
 like, a dandy or a scarecrow ?" 
 
 Muggins regarded him for a moment curiously, and then 
 replied, 
 
 " I'se dunno what kind of thing that dandy is, but I 
 'members dat yer scarecrow what Claib make out of 
 mars'r's trouse's and coat, an' put up in de cherry tree. 
 1 thinks dat look like Mas'r Hugh yes, very much 
 like ! " 
 
 Hugh laughed long and loud, pinching Mug's dusky 
 cheek, and bidding her run away. 
 
 " Pretty good," he exclaimed, when he was left alone. 
 " That's Mug's opinion. Look like a scarecrow. I mean 
 
HUGH. 149 
 
 to see for myself," and going into the sitting-room, where 
 the largest mirror was hung, he scanned curiously the 
 figure which met his view, even taking a smaller glass, 
 and holding it so as to get a sight of his back. " Tall, 
 broad-shouldered, straight, well built. My form is well 
 enough," he said. " It's the clothes that bother. I mean 
 to get some new ones. Then, as to my face," and Hugh 
 turned himself around, "I never thought of it before; 
 but my features are certainly regular, teeth can't be beaten, 
 good brown skin, eyes to match, and a heap of curly hair. 
 I'll be hanged if I don't think I'm rather good-looking! " 
 and with his spirits proportionably raised, Hugh whistled 
 merrily as he went in quest of Aunt Chloe, to whom he 
 imparted the startling information that on the next day 
 but one, a young lady was coming to Spring Bank, and 
 that, in the meantime, the house must be cleaned from 
 garret to cellar, and everything put in order for the ex 
 pected guest. 
 
 With growing years, Aunt Chloe had become rather 
 cross and less inclined to work than formerly, frequently 
 sighing for the days when " Mas'r John didn't want no 
 clarin' up, but kep' things lyin' handy." With her hands 
 on her fat hips she stood, coolly regarding Hugh, who 
 was evidently too much in earnest to be opposed. Alice 
 was coming, and the house must be put in order. 
 
 Accordingly, two hours afterwards, there was a strong 
 smell of soap suds arising from one room, while from 
 another a cloud of dust was issuing, as Hugh himself bent 
 over the broom, wondering where all that dirt came from, 
 inasmuch as his six dogs had only lain there for a few 
 days ! 
 
 Aunt Eunice, too, was pressed into the service, and 
 greatly against her will, come to play the hostess for Hugh, 
 who drove both herself and Aunt Chloe nearly distracted 
 with his orders and counter orders. 
 
 Particularly was he interested in what was to be Alice's 
 
150 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 room, sending for Adah to see if it were right, and would 
 be likely to strike a young lady favorably. 
 
 The cleaning and arranging was finished at last, and 
 everything within the house was as neat and orderly 
 as Aunt Eunice and Adah could make it, even Aunt Chloe 
 acknowledging that " things was tip-top," but said " it 
 was no use settin' 'em to rights when Mas'r Hugh done 
 on-sot 'em so quick," but Hugh promised to do better. 
 He would turn over a new leaf; so by way of commence 
 ment, on the moVning of Alice's expected arrival he 
 deliberately rolled up his towel and placed it under his 
 pillow instead of his night-shirt, which was hung con 
 spicuously over the wash-stand. His boots were put 
 behind the fireboard, his every day hat jammed into the 
 bandbox where 'Lina kept her winter bonnet, and then, 
 satisfied that so far as his room was concerned, every 
 thing was in order, he descended the stairs and went into 
 the garden to gather fresh flowers with which to adorn 
 Alice's room. Hugh was fond of flowers, and two 
 beautiful bouquets were soon arranged and placed in the 
 vases brought from the parlor mantel, while Muggins, 
 who trotted beside him, watching his movements 
 and sometimes making suggestions, was told to see that 
 they were freshly watered, and not allowed to stand 
 where the sun could shine on them, as they might fade 
 before Miss Johnson came. 
 
 " You likes her ? " and Mug looked inquiringly at him. 
 
 "I never saw her," he replied, "but I mean to like her, 
 yes," and Hugh spoke the truth. 
 
 He could not account for it, but now that it came so 
 near, there was something enlivening in the prospect of 
 Alice's coming. He meant to like her meant that she 
 should like him. Not as the Golden Haired might have 
 done had she lived, but as a friend, a sister. He'd try 
 his best to win her respect before 'Lina came to prejudice 
 her against him, if indeed she had not done so already 
 
HUGH. 151 
 
 and a pang shot through his heart as he thought how pos 
 sible it was that Alice Johnson was prepared already to 
 dislike him. But no, Ad could not be so mean as that, 
 and Hugh went down to the breakfast which Aunt Eu 
 nice had prepared, and of which he could scarcely taste a 
 morsel. 
 
 During the excitement of the last few days, the pain 
 in his head had in a measure been forgotten, but it had 
 come back this morning with redoubled force, and the 
 veins upon his forehead looked almost like bursting with 
 their pressure of feverish blood. Hugh did not think it 
 possible for him to be sick, and he tried hard to forget 
 the giddy, half blinding pain warning him of danger, and 
 after forcing himself to sip a little coffee in which he 
 would indulge this morning, he ordered Claib to bring 
 out the covered buggy, as he was going up to Lexington, 
 hoping thus to obtain a sight of Alice without being 
 himself seen, or at least known as Hugh Worthington. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 MEETING OF ALICE AND HUGH. 
 
 Could 'Lina have seen Hugh that morning as he emerg 
 ed from a fashionable tailor's shop, she would scarcely 
 have recognized him, so greatly was he improved by the 
 entire new suit in which he had been indulging, and 
 which gave him so stylish an appearance that Hugh for a 
 moment felt uncomfortable, and was glad that one whole 
 hour must elapse before the cars from Cincinnati were due, 
 as he could thus become a little accustomed to himself, 
 and not be so painfully conscious. The hour passed rap 
 idly away, and its close found Hugh waiting at the ter 
 minus of the Lexington and Cincinnati Railroad. A mo- 
 
152 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 ment more, and the broad platform was swarming with 
 passengers, consrjicuous among whom were an old lady 
 and a young, both dressed in black, both closely veiled, 
 and both entire strangers, as was evinced by their anxie 
 ty to know what they were next to do, or where to go. 
 
 " These are ours," the young lady said, pointing to a 
 huge pile of trunks, distinctly marked " A. J.," and Hugh 
 drew so near to her that her long black veil swept against 
 his coat, as she held out her checks in her ungloved hand. 
 
 Hugh noticed the hand, saw that it was very small and 
 white and fat, but the face he could not see, and he looked 
 in vain for the magnificent hair about which even his 
 mother had waxed eloquent, and which was now put 
 plainly back, so that not a vestige of it was visible. Still 
 Hugh felt sure that this was Alice Johnson, so sure that 
 when he had ascertained the hotel where she would wait 
 for the Frankfort train, he followed on, and entering the 
 back parlor, the door of which was partly closed, sat 
 down as if he too were a traveller, waiting for the train. 
 It never occurred to Hugh that he was acting the part of 
 an eaves-dropper, so anxious he was to see Alice without 
 being seen, and taking up an old paper, he pretended to 
 be greatly interested in its columns, which, for any infor 
 mation he gleaned from them, might as well have been 
 bottom side up. 
 
 Meantime, in the room adjoining, Alice divested her 
 self of her dusty wrappings, and taking out her combs 
 and brushes, began to arrange her hair, talking the while 
 to Densie, her nurse, reclining on the sofa. How the tones 
 of that voice thrilled on Hugh's ear like some forgotten 
 music, heard he knew not when or where, and how still 
 he sat, when at Inst the conversation turned upon his 
 mother and 'Lina, about whom Alice talked freely, never 
 dreaming of Hugh's proximity. 
 
 It would seem that Alice's own luxuriant tresses sug 
 gested her first remark, for she said to Densie, "That 
 
MEETING OF ALICE AND HUGH. 153 
 
 Miss "Worthington had beautiful hair, so glossy, and so 
 wavy, too. I wonder she never curls it. It looks as 
 if she might." 
 
 A smile fitted over Hugh's face as he thought of the 
 tags, and wondered what Alice would say could she see 
 Ad early in the morning, with a red silk handkerchief 
 tied round her head by way of covering what he called 
 tags. "It would take a steam engine to make Ad's hair 
 curl," he said to himself, while Alice continued, 
 
 " I did not like her eyes; they were too much like coals 
 of fire, when they flashed angrily on that poor Lulu, who 
 evidently was not well posted in the duties of a waiting- 
 maid. If mother had not so decided, I should shrink 
 from being an inmate of Mrs. Worthington's family. I 
 like her very much, but I am afraid I shall not get on 
 with 'Lin a." 
 
 "I know you won't. I honor your judgment," was 
 Hugh's mental comment, while Alice went on. 
 
 " And what she told me of her brother was not calcula 
 ted to impress me favorably." 
 
 Nervously Hugh's hands grasped each other, and he 
 could distinctly hear the beating of his heart as he 
 leaned forward so as not to lose a single word. 
 
 " She seemed trying to prepare me for him by telling 
 how rough he was ; how little he cared for etiquette ; and 
 how constantly he mortified her with his uncouth man* 
 ners." 
 
 The perspiration fairly dripped from Hugh's flushed 
 face, as with clenched fist and a muttered curse upon his 
 white lips he listened while Alice went on. 
 
 " Mother never dreamed he was such a man. Indeed, 
 she was prepossessed in his favor, remembering his dis 
 tress when he lost his little sister, who was mysteriously 
 abducted by her father, and as mysteriously returned. 
 He was a fine, handsome boy, mother said, and she thought 
 I would like him. Bad as he may be, he is evidently a 
 7* 
 
154 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 favorite with his negroes, for Lulu resented what her mis 
 tress said of him, and, in her peculiar way, told me it was 
 false." 
 
 "Heaven bless Lulu!" Hugh mentally exclaimed. 
 " I'll set her free the day that she's eighteen ; but Ad, oh, 
 must it go on thus ? Will she always be a thorn to 
 me?" 
 
 Alice did not hear the sigh of pain or see the mournful 
 look which stole over Hugh's face. She did not even sus 
 pect his presence, and she continued to speak of Spring 
 Bank, wondering if Hugh would be there before his moth 
 er returned, half hoping he would not, as she rather dread 
 ed meeting him, although she meant to like him if she 
 could. 
 
 Poor Hugh ! How he winced and trembled, and wish 
 ed he was away. How madly the hot blood poured through 
 his swollen veins, and how fast the pain increased about 
 his temples, while little sparks of fire danced before his 
 eyes. Alice should have her wish, he said bitterly. She 
 should not find Spring Bank encumbered with its hateful 
 owner. 'Lina should not find him there when she return 
 ed, she sWbuld never blush again for him, for he would go 
 away. With a stifled, noiseless moan, Hugh rose to leave 
 the room, glancing once toward the narrow opening in 
 the folding-doors. Then, as if petrified with what he saw, 
 he stood riveted to the spot, his quivering lips apart, his 
 head bent forward, and his eyes almost black, so strangely 
 bright they grew. 
 
 Alice's long, bright hair, was arranged at last, and the 
 soft curls fell about her face, giving to it the same look it 
 had worn in childhood the look which was graven on 
 Hugh's heart, as with a pencil of fire ; the look he never 
 had forgotton through all the years which had come and 
 gone since first it shone on him ; the look he had never hop 
 ed to see again, so sure was he that it had been quenched 
 by the waters of Lake Erie. Alice's face was turned fully 
 
MEETING OF ALICE AND HUGH. 155 
 
 toward him. Through the open window at her back the 
 August sunlight streamed, falling on her chestnut hair, and 
 tinging it with the yellow gleam which Hugh remembered 
 so well. For an instant the long lashes shaded the fail- 
 round cheek, and then were uplifted, disclosing the eyes 
 of blue, which, seen but once, could never be mistaken, 
 and Hugh was not mistaken. One look of piercing scru 
 tiny at the face unconsciously confronting him, one migh 
 ty throb, which seemed to bear away his very life, and 
 then Hugh knew the grave had given up its dead. 
 
 She was not lost for she stood there before him. She 
 whose memory had saved him oftentimes from sin. She, 
 for whom he would almost lay him down and die. She, 
 the Golden Haired. Changed, it is true, from a lovely 
 child of thirteen to a far more lovely woman, but not past 
 his recognition. The golden locks his hands had touched 
 but once, and that when the mad waves were dashing ov 
 er them, had put on a richer, darker tinge, and fell in 
 heavier masses about her brow and neck. The face, too, 
 with its piquant nose, was more mature ; only the eyes 
 were wholly unchanged. In them, the same truthful lov 
 ing light was shining, and the curve of the silken lashes 
 was just the same as when they drooped coyly, beneath 
 the compliment which the tall youth had paid them. 
 
 Golden Hair had come back, but, alas, prejudiced against 
 him. She hoped he might be gone. She would be hap 
 pier if he never crossed her path. " And I never, never 
 will," Hugh thought, as he staggered from the room and 
 sought a small outer court, whose locality he knew, and., 
 where he could be alone to think. 
 
 The throbbing in his head had increased in violence, 
 and what before were gleams of fire dancing before his 
 eyes, were now like rings of blood, of which the sultry 
 air seemed full. How sick and faint he was sitting there 
 in that dingy court, with his head upon his hands, half 
 wishing he might die, and so trouble no one any more. 
 
156 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 He felt that the dearest treasure he had ever possessed 
 was wrested from him that in losing Golden Hair's 
 good opinion he had lost all that made life desirable. 
 
 " Oh, Adaline," he murmured, " what made you so 
 cruel to me? I would not have served you so." 
 
 There was a roll of .wheels before the door, and Hugh 
 knew by the sound that it was the carriage for the cars. 
 She was going. They would never meet again, Hugh 
 said, and she would never know that the youth who tried 
 to save her life was the same for whose coming they 
 would wait and watch in vain at Spring Bank the Hugh 
 for whom his mother would weep awhile ; and for whose 
 dark fate even Ad might feel a little sorry. She was not 
 wholly depraved she had some sisterly feeling, and his 
 loss would waken it to life. They would appreciate him 
 after he was gone, and the poor heart which had known 
 so little love throbbed joyfully, as Hugh thought *of being 
 loved at last even by the selfish 'Lina. 
 
 Fiercely the August sun poured down into that pent- 
 up court, creating a drowsiness which Hugh did not care 
 to shake off. Unconsciousness was welcome at any price, 
 and leaning his aching head against the damp, mouldy 
 wall, he fell at last into a heavy sleep. 
 
 Meantime Alice and Densie proceeded on their way to 
 the Big Spring station, where Col. Tiffton was waiting for 
 them, according to his promise. There was a shadow in 
 the colonel's good-humored face, and a shadow in his 
 heart, His idol, Nellie, was very sick, while added to 
 this was the terrible certainty that he alone must pay a 
 $10,000 note on which he had foolishly put his name, be 
 cause Harney had preferred it. He was talking with 
 Harnoy when the cars came up, and the villain, while ex 
 pressing regret that the colonel should be compelled to 
 pay so much for what he never had received, had said 
 with a relentless smile, " But it's not my fault, you know, 
 I can't afford to lose it." 
 
MEETING OF ALICE AND HUGH. 157 
 
 From that moment the colonel felt he was a ruined man, 
 but he would not allow himself to appear at all discom 
 posed. 
 
 " Wait awhile," he said ; " do nothing till my Nell lives 
 or dies," and with a sigh as he' thought how much dearer 
 to him was his youngest daughter than all the farms in 
 Woodford, he went forward to meet Alice, just appearing 
 upon the platform. 
 
 The colonel explained to Alice why she must go to 
 Spring Bank, adding by way of consolation, that she 
 would not be quite as lonely now Hugh was at home. 
 
 " Hugh at home ! " and Alice shrank back in dismay, 
 feeling for a moment that she could not go there. 
 
 But there was no alternative, and after a few tears 
 which she could not repress, she said, timidly, 
 
 " What is this Hugh ? What kind of a man, I mean ? " 
 
 She could not expect the colonel to say anything bad 
 of him, but she was not prepared for his frank response. 
 
 " The likeliest chap in Kentucky. Nothing dandified 
 about him, to be sure. Wears his trouser legs in his boots 
 as often as any way, and don't stand about the very latest 
 cut of his coat, but he's got a heart bigger than an ox 
 yes, big as ten oxen ! I'd trust him with my life, and know 
 it was safe as his own. You'll like Hugh Nell does." 
 
 The colonel never dreamed of the comfort his words 
 gave Alice, or how they changed her feelings with regard 
 to one whom she had so dreaded to meet. 
 
 " There 'tis ; we're almost there," the colonel said at 
 last, as they turned off from the highway, and leaning 
 forward Alice caught sight of the roofs and dilapidated 
 chimneys of Spring: Bank. "'Tain't quite as fixey as 
 Yankee houses that's a fact, but we that own niggers nev 
 er do have things so smarted up," the colonel said, guess 
 ing how the contrast must affect Alice, who felt so deso 
 late and homesick as she drew up in front of what, for a 
 time at least,was to be her home. 
 
158 HUGH WOKTHINGTON. 
 
 At a single glance she took in every peculiarity, from the 
 mossy, decaying" eaves, where the swallows were twitter 
 ing their songs, to the group of negroes ranged upon the 
 piazza, staring curiously at her as she alighted, followed 
 by Densie Densmore. Where was Hugh ? Surely he 
 should be there to greet her, and with a return of some 
 thing like the olden terror Alice looked nervously in all 
 directions, as if expecting some vampyre to start out and 
 seize her. But only Aunt Eunice, in trim white cap and 
 black silk apron, appeared, welcoming the strangers with 
 a motherly kindness, which went to Alice's heart. 
 
 Aunt Eunice saw that she looked very tired, and asked 
 if she would not go at once to her room and lie down. 
 Glad to be alone, Alice followed her through the hall and 
 up the stairs to the pleasant chamber in which Hugh had 
 been so interested. 
 
 " You are tired and homesick, too, I guess," Aunt Eunice 
 said, " but you'll get over it by and by. Spring Bank is a 
 pleasant place, and if Hugh could he'd make it a handsome 
 one. He has the taste." 
 
 " Where is Hugh ? " Alice asked. 
 
 Aunt Eunice would not say he had gone to Lexington 
 for the sake, perhaps, of seeing her, so she replied, 
 
 " He went to town this morning, but he'll be back pret 
 ty soon. He has done his best to make it pleasant for 
 you. You'll like Hugh. There, try to go to sleep," and 
 kind Aunt Eunice bustled from the room just as Densie 
 entered it, together with Aunt Chloe. The old negress 
 was evidently playing the hostess to Densie, for she was 
 talking quite loud, and all about "Mas'r Hugh." "Pity 
 he wasn't thar, 'twould seem so different ; 'tain't de same 
 house without him. You'll like Mas'r Hugh? ancl she, 
 too glided from the room. 
 
 Was this the password at Spring Bank, "You'll like 
 Mas'r Hugh ? " It would seem so, for when at last Han 
 nah brought up the waffles and tea, which Aunt Eunice 
 
MEETING OF ALICE AND HUGH. 159 
 
 had prepared, she sat down her tray, and after a few in 
 quiries concerning Alice's head, which was now aching 
 sadly, she, too, launched forth into a panegyric on Mas'r 
 Hugh, ending, as the rest had done, " You'll like Mas'r 
 Hugh." 
 
 Alice began to believe she should, and with a silent 
 thanksgiving that the great bugbear of Spring Bank was 
 likely to prove so harmless, she waited and listened for 
 any sounds which might herald Hugh's approach. But 
 the summer evening waned and the summer night closed 
 quietly around Spring Bank, without bringing its master 
 home. One by one the negroes went to their cabins, and 
 when at last the clock struck twelve, Aunt Eunice, who 
 had been waiting for her boy, lighted her tallow candle 
 and stole noiselessly to her room, where ty the open win 
 dow she sat for a long, long time, listening to the howl of 
 Rover, who, sat upon the steps and filled the air with his 
 lonely cries. Aunt Eunice was not superstitious, but Ro 
 ver's howl sounded painfully in her ear, and when at last 
 she crept slowly to her pillow there was a dread fear at 
 her heart lest something had befallen Hugh. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 ALICE AND MUGGINS. 
 
 Had an angel appeared suddenly to the blacks at Spring 
 Bank they would not have been more surprised or delighted 
 than they were with Alice when she came down to breakfast, 
 looking so beautifully in her muslin wrapper, with a simple 
 white blossom and geranium leaf twined among her flowing 
 curls, and an expression of content upon her childish face 
 which said that she had resolved to make the best of the 
 place to which Providence had so clearly led her for some 
 
100 HUGH WOKTHINGTON. 
 
 wise purpose of his own. She had arisen 'early and ex 
 plored the premises in quest of the spots of sunshine 
 which she knew were there as well as elsewhere, and she 
 had found them, too, in the grand old elms and maples 
 which shaded the wooden building, in the clean, grassy 
 lawn and the running brook, in the well kept garden of 
 flowers, and in the few choice volumes arranged in the old 
 bookcase at one end of the hall. Who read those books? 
 Not 'Lina, most assuredly, for Alice' reminiscences of 
 her were not of the literary kind; nor yet Mrs. Worthing- 
 ton, kind, gentle creature as she seemed to be. Who 
 then but Hugh could have pored over those pages? And 
 with a thrill of joy she was turning from the corner, when 
 the patter of little naked feet was heard upon the stairs, 
 and a bright mulatto child, apparently seven or eight years 
 old, appeared, her face expressive of the "admiration with 
 which she regarded Alice, who asked her name. 
 
 Curtesying very low the child replied, 
 
 " I dunno, missus ; Mas'r Hugh don nickname me Mug 
 gins, and every folks do that now. You know Mas'r Hugh ? 
 He done rared when he read you's comin' ; do this way 
 with his boot,' By George, Ad will sell the oldiiut yet with 
 out 'sultin' me,' " and the little darkey's fist came down 
 upon the window sill in apt imitation of her master. 
 
 A crimson flush overspread Alice's face as she wondered 
 if it were possible that the arrangements concerning her 
 coming there had been made without reference to Hugh's 
 wishes. 
 
 " It may be ; he was away," she sighed ; then feeling an 
 intense desire to know more, and being only a woman 
 and mortal, she said to Muggins, walking round her in 
 circles, with her fat arms folded upon her bosom, "Your 
 master did not know I was coming till he returned from 
 New Orleans and found his mother's letter?" 
 
 "Who tole you dat ar?" and Muggin's face was per 
 fectly comical in its bewilderment at what she deemed 
 
ALICE AND MUGGINS. 161 
 
 Alice's foreknowledge. " But dat's so. I hear Aunt Chloe 
 say so, and how't was right mean in Miss 'Lina. I hate 
 Miss^Lina! Phew-ewl" and Muggins' face screwed it 
 self into a look of such perfect disgust that Alice could not 
 forbear laughing outright. 
 
 " You should not hate any one, my child," she said, while 
 Muggins rejoined, 
 
 " I can't help it none of us can; she's so mean 
 and so low-flung, Claib says. She hain't any bizzens or- 
 derin' us round nuther, and I will hate her ! " 
 
 " But, Muggins, the Bible teaches us to love those who 
 treat us badly, who are mean, as you say." 
 
 " Who's he ? " and Muggins looked up quickly. " I nev 
 er hearn tell of him afore, or, yes, I has. ^ Thar's an old 
 wared out book in Mas'r Hugh's chest, what he reads in 
 every night, and oncet when I axes him what was it, he 
 say ' It's a Bible, Mug.' Dat's what he calls me for short, 
 Mug." 
 
 There was a warm spot now in Alice's heart for Hugh. 
 A man who read his Bible every night could not be very 
 bad, and she blessed Mug for the cheering news, little 
 dreaming whose Bible it was Hugh read, or whose curl 
 of yellow hair served him for a book mark. Mug's pry 
 ing eyes had ferreted that out, too, and delighted with so 
 attentive a listener as Alice, she continued : 
 
 " Dat's the thing, then, what teaches us to love the hate 
 ful s. Mug don't want to read him, though I reckon Mas'r 
 Hugh done grow some better, for he hain't been boppin' 
 mad this good while, like he got at Miss 'Lina 'bout that 
 dress and Miss Adah. He was awful then. He swared^ 
 he did." 
 
 " Muggins, you must not tell me these things of your 
 master. It is not right," Alice interposed and Muggins 
 replied, 
 
 " Well, then, I done took 'em back. He didn't swared, 
 but he do read the Bible, and he do kiss dat curl of yal- 
 
162 HUGH WOKTHINGTON. 
 
 ler har what he keeps in it. I see him through the do' 
 and I hear him whisper 'bout Golden Har, or somethin' 
 mighty like him." 
 
 Alice was in a tremor of distress. She knew Muggins 
 ought not to disclose Hugh's secrets, and she saw no way 
 to stop her except by sending her away, and this she was 
 about to do when a new idea was suggested to her. Pos 
 sibly she could keep her from repeating the story to others, 
 so she asked if " Muggins had ever told this about the 
 curl to any one else." 
 
 "Nobody but Chloe, and she boxtmy ears so that I done 
 forgot till I see you, and that har of your'n makes me 
 'member the one MasV Hugh kissed real smaekin' loud, 
 so," and Muggins illustrated on her own hand. 
 
 " Well, then," Alice said, " promise you will not. Your 
 master would be very angry to know you watched him 
 through the door, and then told what you saw. You 
 must be a good girl, Muggins. God will love you if you 
 do. Do you ever pray ? " 
 
 " More times I do, and more times when I'se sleepy I 
 don't," was Muggins ' reply, her face brightening up as 
 she continued, " But I can tell you who does Miss Adah 
 and Uncle Sam, over dar in the cornfield. They prays, 
 both of 'em, and Sam, is powerful, I tell you. I hears 
 him at the black folk's meetin'. Hollers oh ! oh ! " and 
 Muggins stopped her ears, as if even the memory of Sam's 
 prayers were deafening ; but if the ears stopped, the tongue 
 was just as busy as the talkative child went on-' 
 ' Sam prays for Mas'r Hugh, that God would fotch him 
 right some day, and Miss Adah say God will, 'case she say 
 he see and hear everyting. Mug don't believe dat ; can't 
 cheat dis chile, 'case if he hear and see, what made him 
 hold still dat time Miss 'Lina licked me for telling Mas'r 
 Harney how't she done up her har at night in fourteen lit 
 tle braids, and slep' in great big cap to make it look wavy 
 like yourn. Does you twist yourn up in tails ? " and as 
 
ALICE AND MUGGINS. 163 
 
 she had all along been aching to do, Muggins laid her 
 hands on the luxuriant tresses, which Alice assured her 
 were not done up in tails. 
 
 Here was a spot where Alice might do good ; this half- 
 heathen, but sprightly, African child needed her, and she 
 began already to get an inkling of her mission to Ken 
 tucky. She was pleased with Muggins^ and suffered the 
 little dusky hands to caress her curls as long as they 
 pleased, while she questioned her of the bookcase and its 
 contents, whose was it, 'Lina's or Hugh's ? 
 
 "Mas'r Hugh's in course. Miss 'Lina can't read!" was 
 Muggins' reply, which Alice fully understood. 
 
 'Lina was no reader, while Hugh was, it might be, and 
 she continued to speak of him. Did he read evenings to 
 his mother, or did 'Lina play to them ? 
 
 " More'n we wants, a heap ! " and Muggins spoke scorn 
 fully. " We can't bar them things she thumps out. Now 
 we likes Mas'r Hugh's the best got good voice, sing 
 Dixie, oh, splendid! Mas'r Hugh loves flowers, too. 
 Tend all them in the garden." 
 
 "Did he?" and Alice spoke with great animation, for 
 she had supposed that 'Lina's or at least Mrs. Worthing- 
 ton's hands had been there. 
 
 But it was all Hugh, and in spite of what Muggins 
 had said concerning his aversion to her coming there 
 she felt a great desire to see him. She could understand 
 in part why he should be angry at not having been con 
 sulted, but he was over that, she was sure from what Aunt 
 Eunice said, and if he were not, it behooved her to try 
 her best to remove any wrong impression he might have 
 formed of her. "He shall like me," she thought; "not 
 as he must like that golden haired maiden, whose exis 
 tence this sprite of a negro has discovered, but as a friend, 
 or sister," and a softer light shone in Alice's blue eyes, 
 as she foresaw in fancy Hugh gradually coming to like 
 
164 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 her, to be glad that she was there, and to miss her when 
 she was gone. 
 
 " What time did he come home last night ? " she asked, 
 feeling more disappointed than she cared to confess at 
 Mtiggin's answer that, " he hadn't come at all ! " 
 
 Alice was but human, and it must be confessed that she 
 had made her toilet that morning with a slight reference 
 to Hugh's eyes, wxmdering if he liked w r hite, and wonder 
 ing, too, if he liked flowers, when she placed the wax 
 ball in her hair. 
 
 "You are sorry?" Mug said, interpreting her looks 
 aright. 
 
 " Yes, I am sorry. I want to see your master, Hugh. 
 I mean to like him very much." 
 
 " I'll tell him dat ar," thought Muggins. " I 'members 
 how't he say oncet that nobody done love him," and, spy 
 ing Claib in the distance, the little tattler ran off to tell 
 him how beautiful the new missus was, and how she let 
 her smooth her har, all she wanted to. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 POOR HUGH. 
 
 Could Hugh have known the feelings with which Alice 
 Johnson already regarded him, and the opinion she had 
 expressed to Muggins, it would perhaps have stilled the 
 fierce throbbings of his heart, which sent the hot blood 
 so swiftly through his, veins, and made him from the first 
 delirious. They had found him in the quiet court just 
 after the sun setting, and his uncovered head was already 
 wet with the fulling dew, and the profuse perspiration 
 induced by his long, heavy sleep. He was well known at 
 the hotel, and measures were immediately taken for appris- 
 
POOR HUGH. 165 
 
 ing his family of the sudden illness, and for removing him 
 to Spring Bank as soon as possible. 
 
 Breakfast was not yet over at Spring Bank, and Aunt 
 Eunice was wondering what could have become of Hugh, 
 when from her position near the window she discovered 
 ahorsernan riding across the lawn at arate which betokened 
 some important errand. Alice spied him too, and the 
 same thought flashed over both herself and Aunt Eunice. 
 " Something had befallen Hugh." 
 
 Alice was the first upon the piazza, where she stood 
 waiting till the rider came up, 
 
 " Are you Miss Worthington ? " he asked, doffing his 
 soft hat, and feeling a thrill of wonder at sight of her 
 marvellous beauty. 
 
 " Miss Worthington is not at home," she said, going 
 down the steps and advancing closer to him, " but I can 
 take your message. Is any thing the matter with Mr. 
 Worthington ? " 
 
 Aunt Eunice had now joined her, and listened breath 
 lessly while the young man told of Hugh's illness, which 
 threatened to be the prevailing fever. 
 
 " They were bringing him home," he said "were now 
 on the way, and he had ridden in advance to prepare 
 them for his coming." 
 
 Aunt Eunice seemed literally stunned and wholly incapa 
 ble of action, while the negroes howled dismally for Mas'r 
 Hugh, who, Chloe said, was sure to die. 
 
 Alice alone was calm and capable of acting. A room 
 must be prepared, and somebody must direct, but to find 
 the somebody was a most difficult matter. Chloe couldn't 
 Hannah couldn't, Aunt Eunice couldn't, and consequently 
 it all devolved upon herself. Throwing aside the feelings 
 of a stranger she summoned Densie to her aid, and then 
 went quietly to work. By dint of questioning Muggins, 
 who hovered near her constantly, she ascertained which 
 was Hugh's sleeping room, and entered it to reconnoiter. 
 
166 HUGH WORTHnTGTON. 
 
 It was the most uncomfortable room in the house, for 
 during two thirds of the day the hot sun poured down upon 
 the low roof, heating the walls like an oven, and rendering 
 it wholly unfit for a sick man. Hugh must not be put 
 there, and after satisfying herself that her own chamber 
 was the coolest and most convenient in the house, Alice 
 came to a decision, and regardless of her own personal 
 comfort, set to work to remove, with Densie's help, her 
 various articles of luggage. 
 
 By this time Aunt Eunice had rallied a little, and hearing 
 what Alice was doing, offered a faint remonstrance. 
 Hugh would never be reconciled to taking Miss Johnson's 
 room, she said, but Alice silenced every objection, and 
 Aunt Eunice yielded the point, feeling intuitively that 
 the sceptre had passed from her hand into a far more 
 efficient one. The pleasant chamber, in which only yester 
 day morning Hugh himself had been so interested, was 
 ready at last. The wide north windows were open, and 
 the soft summer air came stealing in, lifting the muslin 
 curtains which Alice had looped back, blowing across the 
 snowy pillows which Alice's hands had arranged, and 
 kissing th'e half withered flowers which Hugh had picked 
 for Alice. 
 
 " I'll done get some fresher ones. Mas'r Hugh love the 
 posies," Muggins said, as she saw Alice bending over the 
 vase. 
 
 " Poor Hugh ! " Alice sighed, as Muggins ran off for the 
 flowers, which she brought to Miss Johnson, who arrang 
 ed them into beautiful bouquets for the sick man now just 
 at the gate. Alice saw the carriage as it stopped, and saw 
 the tall form which the men were helping up the walk ; 
 and that was all she saw, so busily was she occupied in 
 hushing the outcries of the excitable negroes, while Hugh 
 was carried to the room designated by Densie, and into 
 which he went unwillingly. " It was not his den," he 
 said, drawing back with a bewildered look; " his was hot ? 
 
POOE HUGH. 167 
 
 and close, and dingy, while this was nice and cool a 
 room such as women had ; there must be a mistake," and 
 he begged of them to take him away. 
 
 " No, no, my poor boy. This is right ; Miss Johnson 
 said you must come here just because it is cool and nice. 
 You'll get well so must faster," and Aunt Eunice's tears 
 dropped on Hugh's flushed face. 
 
 "Miss Johnson!" and the wild eyes looked up eagerly 
 at her. " Who is she ? Oh, yes, I know, I know," and a 
 moan came from his lips as he whispered, "Does she know 
 I've come ? Does it make her hate me worse to see me in 
 such a plight ? Ho, Aunt Eunice, put your ear down close 
 while I tell you something. Ad said you know Ad 
 she said I was I was I can't tell you what she said 
 for this buzzing in my head. Am I very sick, Aunt Eu 
 nice ? " and about the chin there was a quivering motion, 
 which betokened a ray of consciousness, as the brown eyes 
 scanned the kind, motherly face bending over him. 
 
 "Yes, Hugh, you are very sick," and Aunt Eunice's 
 tears dropped upon the face of her boy, so fearfully chang 
 ed since yesterday. 
 
 He wiped them away himself, and looked inquiringly 
 at her. 
 
 " Am I so sick that it makes you cry ? Is it the fever 
 I've got ? " 
 
 " Yes, Hugh, the fever," and Aunt Eunice bowed her 
 face upon his burning hands. 
 
 . For a moment he lay unconscious, then raising himself 
 up, he fixed his eyes piercingly upon her, and whispered 
 hoarsely, 
 
 "Aunt Eunice, I shall die ! I have never been sick in 
 my life ; and the fever goes hard with such. I shall sure 
 ly die. It's been days in coming on, and I thought to 
 fight it off, I don't want to die. I'm not prepared," and 
 in the once strong man's voice there was a note of fear, 
 such as only the dread of death could have wrung from 
 
168 HUGH WOBTHINGTON. 
 
 him. "Aunt Eunice," and the voice was now a kind of 
 sob, " tell Adah and Sam to pray. I shall lose my senses 
 soon, they go and come so fast; and tell Miss Johnson, 
 (I've heard that she too prays) tell her when she watches 
 by me, as perhaps she will, tell her to pray, though I do 
 not hear it, pray that I need not die, not yet, not yet. Oh 
 if I had prayed sooner, prayed before," and the white lips 
 moved as if uttering now the petitions too long left un 
 said. 
 
 Then the mind wandered again, and Hugh talked of 
 Alice and Golden Hair, not as one and the same, but as 
 two distinct individuals, and then he spoke of his moth 
 er. 
 
 " You'll send for her ; and if I'm dead when she comes, 
 tell her I tried to be a dutiful son, and was always sorry 
 when I failed. Tell her I love my mother more than she 
 
 ever dreamed ; and tell Ad " Here he paused, and 
 
 the forehead knit itself into great wrinkles, so intense 
 were his thoughts. " Tell Ad no, not tell her anything. 
 She'll be glad when I'm dead, and trip back from my grave 
 so gaily ! " 
 
 He was growing terribly excited now, and Aunt Eunice 
 hailed the coming of the doctor with delight. Hugh 
 knew him, offering his pulse and putting out his tongue 
 of his own accord. The doctor counted the rapid pulse, 
 numbering even then 130 per minute, noted the rolling 
 eyeballs and the dilation of the pupils, felt the fierce throb 
 bing of the swollen veins upon the temple, and then shook 
 his head. Half conscious, half delirious, Hugh watched 
 him nervously, until the great fear at his heart found ut 
 terance in words, 
 
 Must I die ? " 
 
 "We hope not. We'll do what we can to save you. 
 Don't think of dying, my boy," was the physician's reply, 
 as he turned to Aunt Eunice, and gave out the medicine, 
 which niu&t be most carefully admininistered. 
 
POOR HUGH. 169 
 
 Too much agitated to know just what he said, Aunt 
 Eunice listened as one who heard not, noticing which 
 the doctor said, 
 
 " You are not the right one to take these directions. 
 Is there nobody here less nervous than yourself? Who 
 was that young lady standing by the door when I came 
 in. The one in white, I mean, with such a quantity of 
 curls." 
 
 u Miss Johnson our visitor. She can't do anything," 
 Aunt Eunice replied, trying to compose herself enough to 
 know what she was doing. 
 
 But the doctor thought differently. Something of a 
 physiognomist, he had been struck with the expression of 
 Alice's face, and felt sure that she would be a more efficient 
 aid than Aunt Eunice herself. " I'll speak to her," he said, 
 stepping to the hall. But Alice was gone. She had stood 
 by the sick room door long enough to hear Hugh's impas 
 sioned words concerning his probable death long 
 enough to hear him ask that she might pray for him ; and 
 then she stole away to where no ear, save that of God, 
 could hear the earnest prayer that Hugh Worthington 
 might live or that dying, there might be given him a 
 space in which to grasp the faith, without which the grave 
 is dark and terrible indeed. 
 
 " I'm glad I came here now," she whispered, as she rose 
 from her knees. " I know my work in part, and may God 
 give me strength to do it." 
 
 " Is you talkin' to God, Miss Alice ? " said a little voice, 
 and Mug's round black face looked cautiously in. 
 
 " Yes, Muggins, I was talking to God." 
 
 "I'd mighty well like to know what you done say," was 
 Mug's next remark, as she ventured across the threshold. 
 
 " I asked him to make your Master Hugh well again, or 
 else take him to heaven," was Alice's reply ; whereupon 
 the great tears gathered in the eyes of the awe-struck 
 child, who continued, . 
 8 
 
170 HUGH WORTHING TOX. 
 
 " I wish I could ax God, too. Would he hear black 
 nigger like me ? " 
 
 " Yes, Muggins, God hears everybody, black as well as 
 white." 
 
 "Then I jest go down in the woods whar Claib can't 
 see me, and ax Him to cure Mas'r Hugh, not take him to 
 heaven. I don't like dat ar." 
 
 It was in vain that Alice tried to explain. Muggins' 
 mind grasped but one idea. Master Hugh must live ; and 
 she started to leave the room, turning back to ask, " if 
 God could hear allthe same if she got down by the brook 
 where the bushes were so thick that Claib nor nobody 
 could find her if they tried." Assured that he would, she 
 stole from the house, and seeking out the hiding place 
 kneeled down upon the tall, rank grass, and with her face 
 hidden in the roots of the alder bushes, she asked in her 
 peculiar way, that " God would not take Mas'r Hugh to 
 heaven, but give him a heap of doctor's stuff, and make 
 him well again," promising, if he did, that " She would 
 not steal any more jam from the jars in the cellar, or any 
 more sugar from the bowl in the closet." She could not 
 remember for whose sake Alice had bidden her pray, so 
 she said, " for the sake of him what miss done tell me," 
 adding quickly, " Miss Alice, I mean, not 'Miss 'Lina ! 
 Bah!" 
 
 Muggins intended no irreverence, nor did she dream 
 that she was guilty of any. She only felt that she had 
 done her best, and into her childish heart there crept a 
 trusting faith that God had surely heard, and Mas'r Hugh 
 would live. 
 
 And who shall say that He did not hear and answer Mug- 
 gin's prayer, made by the running brook, where none but 
 Him could hear ? 
 
 Meantime, the Hugh for whom the prayer was made 
 had fallen into a heavy sleep, and Aunt Eunice noiselessly 
 left the room, meeting in the hall with Alice, who asked 
 
POOR HUGH. 171 
 
 permission to go in and sit by him until he awoke. Aunt 
 Eunice consented, and with noiseless footsteps Alice ad 
 vanced into the darkened room, and after standing still 
 for a moment to assure herself that Hugh was really sleep 
 ing, stole softly to his bedside and bent down to look at 
 him, starting quickly at the resemblance to somebody seen 
 before. Who was it? Where was it? she asked herself, 
 her brain a labyrinth of bewilderment as she tried in vain 
 to recall the time or place a face like this reposing upon 
 the pillow had met her view. But her efforts were all in 
 vain to bring the past to mind, and thinking she was mis 
 taken in supposing she had ever seen him before, she sat 
 softly down beside him. 
 
 How disappointed Alice was in him, asking herself if 
 it could be the dreaded Hugh. There was surely nothing 
 to be dreaded from him now, and as if she had been his 
 sister she wiped the sweat drops from his face. 
 
 There was a tremulous motion of the lids, a contract 
 ing of the muscles about the mouth, and then the eyes 
 opened for a moment, but the stare he gave to Alice was 
 wholly meaningless. He evidently had no thought of her 
 presence, though he murmured the name " Golden Hair," 
 and then fell away again into the heavy stupor which con 
 tinued all the day. Alice would not leave him. She 
 had heard him say, " When she watches by me as perhaps 
 she will, though I may not know her," and that was suffi 
 cient to keep her at his side. She was accustomed to sick 
 ness, she said, and in spite of Aunt Eunice's entreaties, 
 she sat by his pillow, bathing his burning hands, holding 
 the cooling ice upon his head, putting it to his lips, and 
 doing those thousand little acts which only a kind woman 
 ly heart can prompt, and silently praying almost constant 
 ly as Hugh had said she must. 
 
 There were others than Alice praying for Hugh that 
 summer afternoon, for Muggins had gone from the brook 
 to the cornfield, startling Adah with the story of Hugh's 
 
172 HUGH WORTHLNGTON. 
 
 sickness, and then launching out into a glowing descrip 
 tion of the new miss, " with her white gownd and curls as 
 long as Rocket's tail." 
 
 "She talked with God, too," she said, "like what you 
 does, Miss Adah. She axes him to make Mas'r Hugh well, 
 and He will, woa't He ? " 
 
 " I trust so," Adah answered, her own heart going si 
 lently up to the Giver of life and health, asking, if it were 
 possible, that her noble friend might be spared. 
 
 Old Sam, too, with streaming eyes stole out to his 
 bethel by the spring, and prayed for the dear " Massah 
 Hugh" lying so still at Spring Bank, and insensible to all* 
 the prayers going up in his behalf. 
 
 How terrible that death-like stupor was, and the phy 
 sician, when later in the afternoon he came again, shook his 
 head sadly. 
 
 " I'd rather see him rave till it took ten men to hold 
 him," he said, feeling the wiry pulse which were now be 
 yond his count. 
 
 " Is there nothing that will rouse him ? " Alice asked, 
 " no name of one he loves more than another ? " 
 
 The doctor answered " no ; love for woman-kind, save 
 as he feels it for his mother or his sister, is unknown to 
 Hugh Worthington." 
 
 But Alice did not think so. The only words he had 
 whispered since she sat there, together with Muggins' 
 story of the Bible and the curl, would indicate that far 
 down in Hugh's heart, where the world had never seen, 
 there was hidden a mighty, undying love for some one. 
 How she wished they were alone, that she might whisper, 
 that name in his ear, but with the doctor there, and Aunt 
 Eunice and Densie close at hand, she dared not, lest she 
 should betray the secret she had no right to possess. 
 
 "I'll speak to him of his mother," she said, and 
 moistening with ice the lips which were now of a purple 
 hue she said to him softly, 
 
POOR HUGH. 173 
 
 "Mr. Worthington." 
 
 " Call him Hugh," Aunt Eunice whispered, and Alice 
 continued, 
 
 " Hugh, do you know I'm speaking to you ? " 
 
 She bent so low that her breath lifted the rings of hair 
 from his forehead, and her auburn curls swept his cheek. 
 There was a quivering of the lids, a scarcely perceptible 
 moan, and thus encouraged, Alice continued, 
 
 "Hugh, shall I write to your mother? She's gone, you 
 know, with 'Lina." 
 
 To this there was no response, and taking advantage 
 of something outside which had suddenly attracted her 
 three auditors to the window, Alice said again softly, lest 
 she should be heard, 
 
 "Hugh, shall I call Golden Haired?" 
 
 " Yes, yes, oh yes," and the heavy lids unclosed at once, 
 while the eyes, in which there was no ray of conscious 
 ness, looked wistfully at Alice. 
 
 " Are you the Golden Haired ? " and he laid his hand 
 caressingly over the shining tresses just within his reach. 
 
 Alice was about to reply, when an exclamation from 
 those near the window, and the heavy tramp of horse's 
 feet, arrested her attention, and drew her also to the 
 window, just as a beautiful grey, saddled but riderless, 
 came dashing over the gate, and tearing across the yard? 
 until he stood panting at the door. Rocket had come 
 home for the first time since his master had lead him 
 away ! 
 
 Hearing of Hugh's illness, the old colonel had ridden 
 over to inquire how he was, and fearing lest it might be 
 difficult to get Rocket away if once he stood in the 
 familiar yard, he had dismounted in the woods, and 
 fastening him to a tree, walked the remaining distance 
 But Rocket was not thus to be cheated. Ever since 
 turning into the well-remembered lane he had seemed 
 like a new creature, pricking up his ears, and dancing and 
 
174 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 curvetting daintily along, as he had been wont to do on 
 public occasions when Hugh was his rider instead of the 
 fat colonel. In this state of feeling it was quite natural 
 that he should resent being tied to a tree, and as if divining 
 why it was done, he broke his halter the moment the 
 colonel was out of sight, and went galloping through the 
 woods like lightning, never for an instant slackening his 
 speed until he stood at Spring Bank door, calling, as well as 
 he could call, for Hugh, who heard and recognized that call. 
 
 Throwing his arms wildly over his head, he raised 
 himself in bed, and exclaimed joyfully, 
 
 "That's he! that's Rocket! I knew he'd come. I've 
 only been waiting for him to start on that long journey. 
 Ho ! Aunt Eunice ! Pack my clothes. I'm going away 
 where I shan't mortify Ad any more. Hurry up. Rock 
 et is growing impatient. Don't you hear him pawing the 
 turf? I'm coming, my boy, I'm coming ! " and he attempt 
 ed to leap upon the floor, but the doctor's strong arm 
 held him down, while Alice, whose voice alone he heeded, 
 strove to quiet him. 
 
 "I wouldn't go away to-day," she said soothingly. 
 " Some other time will do as well, and Rocket can wait." 
 
 " Will you stay with me ? " Hugh asked. 
 
 " Yes, I'll stay," was Alice's reply. 
 
 " All right, all right. Tell Claib to put up Rocket, till 
 another day, and then we'll go together, you and I," and 
 Hugh sank back upon his pillow, just as the wheezy col 
 onel come in, greatly alarmed and surprised to find the 
 young man so ill. 
 
 " It beats all," he said, " how symptoms difler. That 
 buzzing he complained of wasn't an atom like my wife's 
 beats all;" then turning to Alice he delivered a mes 
 sage from Ellen who was better, and had expressed a wish 
 to see Miss Johnson, hoping she might be induced to re 
 turn with her father. 
 
POOK HUGH. 175 
 
 But Alice would not leave Hugh, and she declined the 
 colonel's invitation. 
 
 " That's right. Stick to him," the colonel said. " He's 
 a noble fellow, odd as Dick's hat band, but got the right 
 kind of spirit. Poor boy, It makes me feel to see him 
 some as I felt when my Hal lay ravin' mad with the dumb 
 fever in his head. Poor Hal ! He is up in the grave-yard 
 now. Good day to you all. I've got a pesky job on hand 
 getting that Rocket home." 
 
 And the colonel was right, for Rocket stubbornly re 
 fused to move, kicking and biting as he had done once' 
 before when any one approached him. He had taken his 
 stand near by the block where Hugh had been accustom 
 ed to mount him, and there he staid, evidently waiting for 
 his master, sometimes glancing toward the house and ut 
 tering a low whinney. 
 
 " I reckon I'll have to leave him here for a spell," the 
 colonel said at last when every stratagem had been re 
 sorted to in vain. 
 
 " Yes, I 'specs mas'r will," returned the delighted Claib, 
 who, had let one or two good opportunities pass for seiz 
 ing Rocket's bridle. " I'll get Mas'r Tiffton anodder nag," 
 and with great alacrity the negro saddled a handsome bay, 
 on which the colonel was soon riding away from Spring 
 Bank, leaving Rocket standing patiently by the block, and 
 waiting for the master who might never come to him 
 again. 
 
 " I'm glad he's roused up," the doctor said of Hugh, 
 " though I don't like the way his fever increases," and 
 Alice knew by the expression of his face, that there was 
 but little hope, determining not to leave him during the 
 night. 
 
 Aunt Eunice might sleep on the lounge, she said, but 
 the care, the responsioility should be hers. To this the doc 
 tor willingly acceded, thinking that Hugh was safer with 
 her than any one else. Exchanging the white wrapper 
 
176 HUGH WOKTHINGTON. 
 
 she had worn through the day for one more suitable, Al 
 ice, after an hour's rest in her own room, returned to Hugh, 
 who had missed her and who knew the moment she carne 
 back to him, even though, he seemed to be half asleep. 
 
 Softly the summer twilight faded and the stars came 
 out one by one, while the dark night closed over Spring 
 Bank, which held many anxious hearts. Never had a 
 cloud so black as this fallen upon the household. There 
 had been noisy, clamorous mourning when John Stanley 
 died, but amid that storm of grief there was one great 
 comfort still, Hugh was spared to them, but now he, too, 
 was leaving them they feared, and the sorrow which at 
 first had manifested itself in loud outcries had settled 
 down into a grief too deep, too heart-felt for noisy demon 
 strations. In the kitchen where a light was burning 
 casting fitful, ghastly glances over the dusky forms con 
 gregated there, old Chloe, as the patriarchess of the flock, 
 sat with folded arms, talking to those about her of her 
 master's probable death, counting the few who had ever 
 survived that form of fever, and speculating as to who 
 would be their next owner. Would they be sold at 
 auction ? Would they be parted one from, the other, and 
 sent they knew not whither ? The Lord only knew, old 
 Chloe said, as the hot tears rained over her black face, 
 
 " Mas'r Hugh won't die," and Muggins faith came to 
 the rescue, throwing a ray of hope into the darkness- 
 " Miss Alice axed God to spar him, and so did I ; now he 
 will, won't he, miss ? " and she turned to Adah, who with 
 Sam, had just come up to Spring Bank, and hearing voices 
 in the kitchen had entered there first. " Say, Miss Adah, 
 won't God cure Mas'r Hugh' case I axed him oncet ? " 
 
 "You must pray more than once, child ; pray many, 
 many times," was Adah's reply ; whereupon Mug looked 
 aghast, for the idea of praying a second time had never 
 entered her brain. 
 
 Still, if she must, why, she must, and she stole quietly 
 
POOR HUGH. 177 
 
 from the kitchen. But it was now too dark to go down 
 in the woods \)y the running brook, and remembering 
 Alice had said that God was every where, she first cast 
 around her a timid glance, as if fearful she should see him, 
 and then kneeling in the grass, wet with the heavy night 
 dew, the little negro girl prayed again for Master Hugh, 
 starting as she prayed at the sound which met her ear 
 and which came from the spot where Rocket was standing 
 by the block, waiting for his master. 
 
 Claib had offered him food and drink, but both- had been 
 refused, and opening the stable door so that he could go in 
 whenever he chose, Claib had left him there alone. 
 
 Muggins knew that it was Rocket, and stole up to him, 
 whispering as she laid her hand on his neck, 
 
 " Poor Rocket, I'm sory too for Mas'r Hugh, but he 
 won,t die, 'case I've prayed for him. I has prayed twicet, 
 and I knows now he'll live. If you could only pray I 
 wonder if horses can ! " and thinking she would ask the 
 new miss, Mug continued to stroke the horse, who suffered 
 her caress, and even rubbed his face against her arm, eating 
 the tuft of grass she plucked for him. Once Mug thought 
 of trying to lead him to the stall, but he looked so tall 
 and formidable, towering up above her, that she dared not, 
 and after a few more assurances that Mas'r Hugh would 
 live, she left him to himself, with the very sensible advice, 
 that if she's he, she wouldn't ac so, but would go to bed, 
 in the stable like a good boy." 
 
 Returning to the house Mug stole up stairs to the door, 
 of the sick room, where Alice was now alone with Hugh. 
 
 He was awake, and for an instant seemed to know 
 her, for he attempted to speak, but the rational words 
 died on his lips, and he only moaned, as if in distress. 
 
 " What is it ? " Alice said, bending over him. 
 
 " Are you the Golden Haired ? " he asked again as her 
 curls swept his face. 
 8* 
 
178 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 " No, I'm not Golden Hair," she answered, soothingly. 
 " I'm Alice, come to nurse you. You have heard of Alice 
 Johnson. 'Lina told you of her." 
 
 "Adf" he almost screamed. "Do you know Ad? I 
 am sorry for you. W ho are you ? " and as if determined 
 to solve the mystery he raised himself upon his elbow, 
 and stretching out his hand, pushed her flowing curls back 
 from her sunny face, muttering as he did so, " ' There an 
 gels do always behold his face.' That's in her Bible. I'm 
 reading it through. I began last winter, when Adah came. 
 Have you heard of Adah ? " 
 
 Alice had heard of Adah and suggested sending for 
 her, asking "if he would not like to have her come." 
 
 " And you go away ? " he said, grasping her hand and 
 holding it fast. " No, you must not go. There's some 
 thing in your face that makes me happy, something like 
 hers. When I say her or she, I mean Golden Hair. There's 
 only one her to me." 
 
 " Who is Golden Hair ? " Alice asked, and instantly the 
 great tears gathered in Hugh's dark eyes as he replied, 
 
 "Don't say who is she, but who was she. I've never 
 told a living being before. Golden Hair was a bright angel 
 who crossed my path one day, and then disappeared forev 
 er, leaving behind the sweetest memory a mortal man ever 
 possessed. It's weak for men to cry, but I have cried 
 many a night for her, when the clouds were crying, too, 
 and I heard against my window the rain which I knew 
 was falling upon her little grave." 
 
 He was growing excited, and thinking he had talked 
 too much, Alice was trying to quiet him, when the door 
 opened softly and Adah herself came in. Bowing polite 
 ly to Alice she advanced to Hugh's bedside, and bending 
 over him spoke his name. He knew her, and turning to 
 Alice, said, "This is Adah ; you will like each other; I 
 am sure." 
 
 And they did like each other at once, Alice recogni- 
 
POOK HUGH. 179 
 
 zing readily a refinement of feeling and manner which 
 showed that however unfortunate Adah might have been, 
 she was still the true-born lady, while Adah felt intuitively 
 that in Alice she had found a friend in whom she could trust. 
 For a few moments they talked together, and then 
 in the hall without there was a shuffling sound and Adah 
 knew that Sam was coming. With hobbling steps the 
 old rnan came in, scarcely noticing either of the ladies so 
 intent was he upon the figure lying so still arid helpless, 
 before him. 
 
 " Massah Hugh, my poor, dear Massah Hugh," he cried, 
 bending over his young master. 
 
 " You may disturb him," Adah said, putting from her 
 lap little Willie, who had come in with Sam, and at whom 
 Alice had looked with wonder, marvelling at the striking 
 resemblance between him and Hugh. 
 
 " Could it be ? " and Alice grew dizzy with that dread 
 ful thought. " Could it be f No, no, oh, no. Adah was 
 too pure, too good, while Hugh was too honorable," and 
 Alice felt a pang at this injustice to both. 
 
 Taking the child in her lap while Adah spoke with Sam 
 she smoothed his soft, brown hair, and scanned his infant 
 ile features closely, tracing now another look than Hugh's, 
 a look which made her start as if smitten suddenly. The 
 eyes, the brow, the hair were Hugh's, but for the rest ; 
 the delicate mouth, with its drmpled corners, the curve of. 
 the lip, the nose, the whole lower part of the face was like, 
 oh, so like, sweet Anna Richards, and she was like her 
 brother. Alice had heard from Tina that Adah professed 
 to have had a husband who deserted her and as she held 
 Willie in her lap, there wer*e all sorts of fancies in her 
 bewildered brain nor was it until a loud outcry from Sam, 
 fell on her ear that she roused herself from the castle she 
 was building as to what might be if Willie were indeed 
 of the Richard's line. Sam had turned away from Hugh, 
 and with his usual politeness was about making his obeis- 
 
180 HUGH WORTHINGTOtf. 
 
 ance to Alice, when the words, " Your servant, Miss," were 
 changed into a howl of joy, and falling upon his knees, he 
 clutched at Alice's dress, exclaiming, 
 
 "Now de Lord be praised, I'se found her again. I'se 
 found Miss Ellis, an' I feels like singin' ''Glory Hallelujah.' 
 Does ye know me, lady ? Does you 'member shaky ole 
 darkey, way down in Virginny? You teach him de way 
 an' he's tried to walk dar ever sence. Say, does you know 
 ole Sam?" ancl the dim eyes looked eagerly into Alice's 
 face. 
 
 She did remember him, and for a moment seemed speech 
 less with surprise, then, stooping beside him, she took his 
 shrivelled hand and pressed it between her own, asking 
 how he came there, and if Hugh had always been his 
 master. 
 
 " You 'splain, Miss Adah. You speaks de dictionary 
 better than Sam," the old man said, and thus appealed to, 
 Adah told what she knew of Sam's coming into Hugh's 
 possession. 
 
 "He buy me just for kindness, nothing else, for Sam 
 aint wo'th a dime, but Massa Hugh so good. I prays for 
 him every night, and I asks God to bring you and him to 
 gether. Oh, I'se happy chile to-night. I prays wjd a big 
 heart, 'case I sees Miss Ellis again," and in his great joy 
 Sam kissed the hem of Alice's dress, crouching at her feet 
 and regarding her with a look almost idolatrous. 
 
 At sight of his nurse Willie had slid from Alice's lap 
 and with his arm around Sam's neck, was lisping the only 
 words he as yet could speak, " Up, up, Tarn, Willie up," 
 meaning that he must be taken. Struggling to his feet 
 Sam took Willie on his shoulder, then with another bless 
 ing on Miss Ellis and a pitying glance at Hugh,.he left 
 the room, Willie looking down from his elevated position 
 triumphant as a young lord, and crowing in childish glee 
 as he buried his hands in Uncle Sam's white wool. 
 
 In every move which Willie made there was a decided- 
 
POOR HUGH. 181 
 
 Jy Richards' air, a manner such as would have been ex 
 pected from John Richards' son playing in the halls of 
 Terrace Hill. 
 
 " Is Willie like his father ? " Alice asked as the door 
 closed after Sam. 
 
 " Yes," and a shadow flitted over Adah's face. 
 
 She did not like to talk of Willie's father and was glad 
 when Hugh at last claimed their attention. They watch 
 ed together that night, tending Hugh so carefully that 
 when the morning broke and the physician came, he pro 
 nounced the symptoms so much better that there was hope, 
 he said, if the faithful nursing were continued. Still Hugh 
 remained delirious, lying often in a kind of stupor from 
 which nothing had power to arouse him unless it were 
 Alice's voice, whispering in his ear the name of " Golden 
 Hair," or the cry of Rocket, who for an entire week wait 
 ed patiently by the block, his face turned towards the door 
 whence he expected his master to appear. During the 
 day he would neither eat nor drink, but Claib always found 
 the food and drink gone, which was left in the stall at 
 night, showing that Rocket must have passed the hours of 
 darkness in his old, accustomed place. With the dawn of 
 day, however, he returned to his post by the block, and 
 more than one eye filled with tears at sight of the noble 
 brute waiting so patiently and calling so pitifully for one 
 who never came. But Rocket grew tired at last, and they 
 missed him one morning at Spring Bank, while Col. Tiff- 
 ton on that same morning was surprised and delighted to 
 find him standing demurely by the gate and offering no 
 resistance when they lead him to the stable which he nev 
 er tried to leave again. He seemed to have given Hugh 
 up and a part of the affection felt for his young master 
 was transferred to the colonel, who petted and caressed 
 the beautiful animal, sighing the while as he thought how 
 improbable it was that Hugh ever could redeem him, and 
 how if he did not, the time was coming soon when Rock- 
 
182 HUGH WOJJTHINGTON. 
 
 et must again change masters, and when Harness long 
 cherished wish to possess him would undoubtedly be grati 
 fied. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 ALICE AND ADAH. 
 
 At Alice's request, Adah and Sam staid altogether at 
 Spring Bank, but Alice was the ruling power Alice, 
 the one whom Chloe and Claib consulted ; Alice to whom 
 Aunt Eunice looked for counsel, Alice, who remembered all 
 the doctor's directions, taking the entire charge of Hugh's 
 medicines herself and Alice, who wrote to Mrs. Worth- 
 ington, apprising her of Hugh's illness. They hoped he 
 was not dangerous, she said, but he was very sick, and 
 Mrs. Worthington would do well to come at once. She 
 did not mention 'Lina, but the idea never crossed her 
 mind that a sister could stay away from choice when a 
 brother was so ill ; and it was with unfeigned surprise 
 that she one morning saw Mrs. Worthington and Lulu 
 alighting at the gate, but no 'Lina with them. 
 
 " She was so happy at Saratoga," Mrs. Worthington 
 said, when a little over the first flurry of her arrival. 
 " So happy, too, with Mrs. Richards that she could not 
 tear herself away, unless her mother should find Hugh 
 positively dangerous, in which case she should, of course, 
 come at once." 
 
 This was the mother's charitable explanation, made 
 with a bitter sigh as she recalled 'Lina's heartless anger 
 when the letter was received, as if Hugh were to blame, as 
 indeed, 'Lina seemed to think he was. 
 
 " What business had he to come home so quick ? If he'd 
 staid in New Orleans, he might not have had the fever. 
 
ALICE AND ADAH. 183 
 
 Any way, she was'nt going home. Alice had said he was 
 not dangerous yet, so if her mother went, that ^as 
 enough ; " and utterly forgetful of the many weary hours 
 and days when Hugh had watched by her, the heartless 
 girl had stifled every feeling of self reproach, and hurried 
 her mother off, entrusting to her care a note for Alice? 
 who, she felt, would wonder at her singular conduct. 
 
 Giving the note to Alice, Mrs. Worthington hastened to 
 her child, with whom Adah and Sam were sitting. He 
 had just awakened from a quiet sleep, and knew his mother 
 at once. "Winding his arms around her, he kissed her 
 forehead and lips, and then his eyes wandered past her 
 towards the door through which she had entered, as if 
 in quest of some one else. His mother did not observe 
 the glance, or know for whom he was looking so wistfully 
 until the white lips whispered, " 'Lina, mother, where is 
 she ? " 
 
 It was strange for him to call her 'Lina. Indeed, the 
 mother could remember no other time when he had done 
 so, but he called her 'Lina now, speaking it tenderly, as if 
 her presence would be very welcome to him. There was a 
 hesitancy en the part of the mother, and then she said, 
 " 'Lina staid in Saratoga. She is very happy there. She 
 will come if you grow worse. She sent her love." 
 
 Poor Mrs. Worthington ! She mentally asked^forgive- 
 ness for this fabrication. 'Lina had sent no love, and the 
 mother only said so because she must say something. 
 Wistfully, eagerly, Hugh's eyes sought her's for a moment, 
 and then filled with tears which dropped upon the pil 
 low. 
 
 " Did you want 'Liiia to come ? " Mrs. Worthington 
 asked, 
 
 "Yes," and Hugh's lip quivered like a grieved child. 
 " I'm going to die, and I wanted to tell her how sorry I 
 am for the harsh things I've said to her. I've been crazy 
 some, I guess, for nothing was clear in my mind nothing 
 
184 HUGH WOKTHINGTON. 
 
 but the words u Forgive as ye would be forgiven.' They 
 were the last I ever read in that little Bible you never 
 saw. It's in my trunk, and when I'm gone you'll give it 
 to Miss Johnson. I think she's here ; and you'll tell 
 'Lina I was sorry, and if if if she's ever sorry, tell 
 her I forgive her, and wanted her to come so much. I 
 thought, maybe, she'd KISS me ; she never has since she was 
 a little child. If she comes before you put me out of 
 sight, ask her to kiss me in the coffin, because I was her 
 brother. I shall be sure to know it. Will you, moth 
 er?" 
 
 Mrs. Worthington could only sob as she pressed the 
 hands she held between her own and tried to quiet him. 
 
 Meantime Alice, in her own room, was reading 'Lina's 
 note, containing a most glowing description of the delight 
 ful time she was having at Saratoga, and how hard it would 
 be to leave. 
 
 " I know dear Hugh is in good hands," she wrote, " and 
 it is so pleasant here that I really do want to stay a little 
 longer. What a delightful lady that Mrs. Richards is 
 not one bit stiff as I can see. I don't know what people 
 mean, to call her proud. She has promised, if mamma 
 will leave me here, to be my chaperon, and it's possible we 
 may visit New York together, so as to be there when the 
 Prince ^arrives. Won't that be grand ? She talks so 
 much of you that sometimes I'm really jealous. Perhaps 
 I may go to Terrace Hill before I return, but I rather 
 hope not, it makes me fidgetty to think of meeting the 
 Misses Richards, though, of course, I know I shall like them, 
 particularly Anna." 
 
 Not a word was there in this letter of the doctor, but 
 Alice understood it all the same. He was the attraction 
 which kept the selfish girl from her brother's side. " May 
 she be happy with him," was Alice's mental comment, 
 shuddering as she recalled the time when she was pleased 
 with the handsome doctor, and silently thanking God who 
 had saved her from much sorrow. 
 
ALICE AND ADAH. 185 
 
 Just then Adah came in, and sitting down by the win 
 dow seemed to be looking at something far away, some 
 thing, which brought to her face the sad hopeless express 
 ion, which Alice had often observed before. Drawing near 
 to her Alice said softly, " Of what are you thinking, 
 Adah?" 
 
 There were no reserves now between the two girls, and 
 laying her head in Alice's lap, Adah sobbed, " I'm think 
 ing of Willie's father. Will he never come back ? Can 
 it be he meant to deceive me, Miss Johnson ? " and Adah 
 lifted up her head, disclosing a face which Alice scarcely 
 recognized, for the strange expression there. " Miss John 
 son, if I knew that George deliberately planned my ruin 
 under the guise of a mock marriage, and then when it 
 suited him deserted me as a toy of which he was tired, 1 
 should hate him ! " 
 
 She hissed the words between her shut teeth, and Alice 
 involuntarily shuddered at the hard, relentless look, which 
 only a deceived, deserted woman can wear. She did not 
 dream that Adah, who had seemed so gentle, so good, could 
 put on such a look, and she gazed at her in astonish 
 ment, as in clear, determined tones she repeated the words, 
 " Yes, I should hate him ! " 
 
 " I know it's wrong," she continued, " and I've asked 
 God many a time to take the feeling away, but it's in me 
 yet, and sometimes, when I get to thinking of the time 
 before he came, when I was a happy, innocent school-girl, 
 without a care for anything, my heart turns into stone, 
 and the prayer I would say will not come. Miss Johnson, 
 you don't know what it is to love with your whole soul 
 one who, to all appearance, was worthy of your love, and 
 who, the world would say, was above you in position 
 to trust him implicitly, to worship the very earth he trod, 
 to feel 'twas Heaven where he was, to have no shadow of 
 suspicion, to believe yourself his lawful wife, and then 
 some dreadful morning wake up and find him gone, you 
 
186 HUGH WOKTH1NGTON. 
 
 know not where to wait and watch through weary 
 weeks and months of agonizing pain, and then to hear at 
 last, in his own handwriting, that you were not a wife, 
 that the whole was a mockery, a marriage of convenience, 
 which circumstances rendered it necessary for him to 
 break, that his proud family would not receive you, that 
 though lie loved you still, his bride must be rich to please 
 his aristocratic mother, and then to end with the hope 
 thrown out that sometime he might come back and make 
 you truly his. But for that 1 should have died, and, as it 
 was, I felt my heart-strings snapping, one by one, felt the 
 blood freezing in my veins, felt that I was going mad. I 
 frighten you, Miss Johnson," she said, as she saw how 
 Alice shrunk away from the dark eyes in which there 
 was a fierce, resentful gleam, unlike sweet Adah Hastings. 
 " I used to frighten myself when I saw in my eyes the de 
 mon which whispered suicide." 
 
 " Oh, Adah, Mrs. Hastings," and Alice involuntarily 
 wound her arm around the young girl-woman as if to 
 shield her from sin. " You could not have dreamed of 
 that ! " 
 
 " I did," and Adah spoke sadly now. " I forgot God 
 awhile, and He left me to myself, but followed me still, 
 going with me all through those crowded streets, 
 close at my side, though I did not know it, and holding 
 me back at the last moment, when the tempter was about 
 to triumph, and the river rolling at my feet looked so in 
 vitingly to poor, half crazed me, He put other thoughts 
 in my head, and where I went to throw my life away, I 
 knelt down and prayed. It was kind in God to save me, 
 and I've tried to love Him better since, to thank Him for 
 His great goodness in leading me to Hugh, as He surely 
 did ; but there's something savage in my nature, which 
 has not been all subdued, and sometimes I'm rebellious, 
 just as you see me now, and my heart, which at first was 
 full of love for George, goes out against him for his base 
 treachery." 
 
ALICE AND ADAH. 187 
 
 " And yet you love him still ? " Alice said, inquiringly^ 
 as she smoothed the beautiful brown hair. 
 
 " I suppose I do. A kind word from^him would bring 
 me back, but will it ever be spoken ? Shall we ever meet 
 again ? " 
 
 She was silent a moment, and then Alice said, " I do 
 not seek your confidence unless you are willing to give it. 
 As you have told me your story in part, will you tell me 
 the whole ? " 
 
 There was no vindictiveness now in Adah's face, and 
 the soft brown eyes drooped mournfully beneath the heavy 
 lashes as she told the story of her wrongs. Told of 
 a young girl at Madam Dupont's school, of the elegant 
 stranger present at one examination, and who watched 
 her with unfeigned interest as she worked out upon the 
 board a most difficult problem in Euclid, standing so near 
 to her that once when she accidentally dropped her crayon 
 he picked it up and offered it to her with a few whispered 
 words of commendation for her skill in mathematics. Of 
 a chance meeting in the street. Of walks and rides, ami 
 blissful interviews at her own cozy little room in the 
 boarding-house, where she had lived for years. Of mar 
 riage proposed at last, and sanctioned by her guardian. 
 Of the necessity urged upon her why it should be kept a 
 secret until the proud relatives were reconciled. Of go 
 ing one night with her lover, her guardian and another wit 
 ness, far out into the suburbs of the city to the house of 
 a justice, who made her Geqrge's wife. Of her guardian's 
 sudden departure, she^knew not whither. Of a removal 
 to another boarding-house more obscure, and in a part of 
 the city where she never met again with any whom she 
 had known before. Of months of perfect happiness. 
 Of the hope growing within her that she was gradually 
 leading George to God. Of letters from home which made 
 him blue, and which she never saw. Of his leaving her at 
 last without a word or sign that he was going or had grown 
 
188 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 weary of her. Of the terrible suspense, the cruel letter, 
 the attempt to take her life, of Willie's birth, of her being 
 turned from, the house as a disreputable character, and 
 coming at last to Spring Bank in quest of Hugh, and of 
 the gradual dying out, as she sometimes feared, of her love 
 for George Hastings. 
 
 " And Hugh ? " Alice said, when Adah paused. " Why 
 did you come to him ? Had you known him before ? " 
 
 "Hugh was that other witness. I never saw him till 
 that night, neither, I think, did George. My guardian 
 planned the whole." 
 
 " Hugh Worthington is not the man I took him for," 
 and Alice spoke bitterly, a look of horror on her face which 
 Adah quickly detected. 
 
 " You mistake him," she cried eagerly. " He is all you 
 imagine him to be, the noblest, truest man, and the best 
 friend I ever had. My guardian possessed a most singular 
 power over all young men, and Hugh was fresh from the 
 country. I don't know where or how they met, but at a 
 hotel, I think. He did not know it was a farce. He went 
 in perfect good faith, although he says since that it did 
 once occur to him that something might be wrong. 
 
 " And your guardian," interrupted Alice, " is it not 
 strange that he should have acted so cruel a part, partic 
 ularly if, as you sometimes fancied, he was your father ? " 
 
 " Yes, that's the strangest part of all. I cannot under 
 stand it, or where he is, though I sometimes imagined he 
 must be dead, or in prison," .and Adah thought of what 
 Sam had said concerning Sullivan, t the negro stealer. 
 
 " What do you mean ; why should he be in prison ? " 
 Alice asked in some surprise, and Adah replied by telling 
 her what Sam had said, and the reason she had for think 
 ing Sullivan and her guardian, Redfield, one and the 
 same. 
 
 Just then Willie's voice was heard in the hall, and has 
 tening to the door Alice admitted him into the room. 
 
ALICE AND ADAH. - 189 
 
 Taking him in her lap she kissed'his rosy cheek, and push 
 ing back his soft curls said to Adah, "Do you know I 
 think he looks like Hugh f " 
 
 " Yes," and Adah spoke sadly. " I know he does, and 
 I am sorry for Hugh's sake, as it must annoy him. Nei 
 ther can I account for it, for I am certainly nothing to 
 Hugh. But there's another look in Willie's face, his fath 
 er's. Oh, Miss Johnson, George was handsome, and 'twas 
 his face which first attracted me." 
 
 " Can you describe him, or will it be too painful ? " Al 
 ice asked, and forcing back her tears, Adah told how 
 George Hastings looked, while Alice's hands worked ner 
 vously together, and her heart beat almost audibly, for, 
 save the absence of moustache and whiskers, which might 
 have been grown since, Adah was describing Dr. Rich 
 ards. 
 
 " And you've never seen him since, nor heard from him, 
 nor guessed where his mother lived ? " 
 
 "Never, and when only the wrong is remembered, I 
 think I never care to see or hear from him again ; but 
 when the love I bore him comes surging back, as it some 
 times does, I'd crawl to the end of the world for one more 
 tender look from him. I'd lay his boy at his feet and die 
 there myself so willingly. I used to form all sorts of cas 
 tles about his coming after me, but they are all blown 
 down, and I've learned to look the future in the face, to 
 know that I must meet it alone. I wish there was some 
 thing I could do to relieve Hugh of the expense I am to 
 him. I did not know till after I was sick last spring how 
 very poor he was, and how many self-denials he had to 
 make for his family. I heard his mother talking with 
 Aunt Eunice when they thought I was asleep, and it 
 almost broke 'my heart. He goes without decent clothes^ 
 without a fire in his room on wintry nights, goes without 
 every thing, and then ^Lina calls him mean and stingy. 
 The noble, self-denying Hugh ! I would almost die for 
 
190 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 him ; and I ask God eveVy day to bring him some good 
 fortune at last." 
 
 " I never knew that Mr. Worthington was so straight 
 ened said Alice. Was Rocket sold to Col. Tifflon for 
 debt ? " 
 
 " Yes, for 'Lina's debts, contracted at Harney's and for 
 my sick bills, too. I've cried the hardest over that, for I 
 know how Hugh loved that horse, but the worst of it is 
 that Col. Tiffton has in some way become indebted to 
 Harney for an immense sum of money. I don't under 
 stand it, but the colonel signed a note for ten thousand 
 dollars with somebody and for somebody, both of which 
 somebodys have failed, and the colonel has to pay. It 
 will take his home, they say, and his personal property, 
 including Rocket, whom Harney is determined to secure. 
 I've heard of his boasting that Hugh should yet be com 
 pelled to see him galloping down the pike upon his idol." 
 
 " He never shall ! " and Alice spoke under her breath, 
 asking further questions concerning the sale of Colonel 
 Tiffton's house, and how much Mosside was worth. 
 
 Adah could not tell. She only knew that Rocket was 
 pawned for five hundred dollars. " Once I insanely hoped 
 that I might help redeem him that God would find a 
 work for me to do and my heart was so happy for a 
 moment." 
 
 " What did you think of doing ? ' f Alice asked, glancing 
 at the delicate young girl, who looked so unaccustomed 
 to toil of any^kind. 
 
 " I thought to be a governess or waiting-maid," and 
 Adah's lip began to quiver as she told how, before coming 
 to Spring Bank, she had advertised for such a situation 
 how she had waited and watched for an answer, and 'how 
 at last it came, or at least the words seemed addressed to 
 her, and she had thought to answer it, but had been dis 
 couraged by 'Lina. 
 
 " Do you remember the address ? " and Alice waited cu 
 riously for the answer. 
 
ALICE AND ADAH. 191 
 
 " Yes, c A. E. R, SXOWDON.' You came from Snowdon, 
 Miss Johnson, and I've wanted so much to ask if you 
 knew 4 A. E. R.,' 
 
 Alice was confounded. Surely the leadings of Provi 
 dence were too plainly evident to be unnoticed. There 
 was a reason why Adah Hastings must go to Anna Rich 
 ards, and Alice hastened to explain who the Richards fam 
 ily were. 
 
 " Oh, I can't go there. They are too proud. They 
 (vould hate me for Willie, and ask me for his father," Ad 
 ah cried, the tears breaking through the fingers she press 
 ed before her eyes. 
 
 Very gently Alice talked to her of Anna, so lovely in 
 disposition, so beautiful in her mature womanhood. 
 Adah would be happy with her, she said, and Anna would 
 be a second mother to her child. She did not hint of her 
 suspicions that at Terrace Hill Adah would find George 
 for fear she might be mistaken, but she talked of Snow 
 don and Anna Richards, whom Adah was sure to like. 
 
 " I'm so glad for your sake that it has come round at 
 last," she said. u Will you write to her to-day, or shall I 
 for you ? Perhaps I had better." 
 
 " No, no, oh, no and Adah's voice trembled, for she 
 shrank nervously from the thought of meeting the Rich 
 ards family. 
 
 If 'Lina liked the old lady, she certainly could not, and 
 the very thought of these elder sisters, in all their prim 
 ness, dismayed and disheartened her. 
 
 " There's a young man, is there not a Dr. Richards ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " Yes ; but he is not often at home. He need be no bug 
 bear. He is practicing in New York, when practicing at 
 all. At present he is at Saratoga." 
 
 Adah looked up quickly, guessing, in a moment, what 
 was keeping 'Lina there, and feeling more averse than 
 ever to Terrace Hill. 
 
192 HUGH WOBTHIXGTON. 
 
 Gradually, however, as Alice continued to talk of Anna, 
 her feelings changed and she said at last, " I will go to 
 Miss Richards, but not till Hugh is better, not till he 
 knows and approves. Do you think it will be long before 
 he regains his reason ! " 
 
 Alice could not tell. She hoped for the best, and 
 thought with Adah that she ought to stay until he could 
 be consulted. 
 
 " Do you correspond with Miss Richards ? " Adah sud- . 
 denly asked, after a long reverie. 
 
 " No, she dreads writing letters above all things else, 
 while I am a wretchedly negligent correspondent. I will 
 send a note of introduction by you, though." 
 
 " Please don't and Adah spoke pleadingly, " I should 
 have to give it if you did, and I'd rather go by myself. 
 I know it would be better to have your influence, but it 
 is a fancy of mine not to say that I ever knew you or any 
 one at Spring Bank. I imagine this Dr. likes 'Lina, and 
 they might question me of her. I could not say much 
 that was good, and I should not like to say bad things 
 of Hugh's sister. Then, too, Miss Richards never need 
 know of my past life unless I choose to let her, as I 
 should have to do in telling her how I came at Spring 
 Bank." 
 
 Alice could understand Adah's motives in part, and 
 feeling sure that whatever she might say would be the 
 truth, she did not press the matter, but suffered her to 
 proceed in her own way. Now it was settled that Adah 
 should go, she felt a restless, impatient desire to be gone, 
 questioning the doctor closely with regard to Hugh, who, 
 it seemed to her, would never waken from the state of 
 unconsciousness into which he had fallen, and from which 
 he only rallied for an instant, just long enough to recog 
 nize his mother, but never Alice or herselfj both of whom 
 watched over him day and night, waiting anxiously for 
 the first symptom, which should herald his return to rea 
 son. 
 
WAKING TO CONSCIOUSNESS. 193 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 WAKING TO CONSCIOUSNESS. 
 
 The warm still days of September were gone and a wild 
 October storm was dying out in a gentle shower, when 
 Hugh awoke from the sleep which had so long hung over 
 him, and listened, with a vague kind of delicious happi 
 ness, to the lulling music of the rain falling so softly upon 
 the window sill, and sifting 'through the long boughs of 
 the trees, visible from where he lay. Gazing about him 
 in a maze of perplexity, he wondered what had happened, 
 or where he could bo. 
 
 " I must have been sick," he whispered, and pressing his 
 hand to his head, he tried to recall and form into some de 
 finite shape the events which had seemed, and which seem 
 ed to him still, like so many phantoms of the brain. 
 
 Was it a dream his mother's tears upon his face, his 
 mother's sobs beside him ? Was it a dream that Adah 
 had bent over him with words of tenderness, praying for 
 him that he might not die, as he was sure he had heard 
 her ? And, oh how Hugh started as he thought this ; 
 Was it, all a dream that the Golden Haired had been with 
 him constantly ? 
 
 No, that was not a dream, and Hugh lay panting on 
 his pillow, as gleam after gleam flashed across his mind, 
 bringing remembrance of the many times when another 
 voice than Adah's had asked that he might live, had plead 
 ed as only Golden Hair could plead with God for him. She 
 did not hate him, else she had not prayed, and words of 
 thanksgiving were going up to Golden Hair's God, when 
 a footstep in the hall announced the approach of some one, 
 Alice perhaps, and Hugh lay very Btill, with half shut 
 9 
 
194 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 eyes, until Muggins, instead of Alice, appeared. She had 
 been deputed to watch by her master while the family 
 were at dinner, pleased with the confidence reposed in her, 
 determined strictly to obey Alice's injunction to be very 
 quiet, and not wake him if he were sleeping. 
 
 He was asleep, she said, as, standing on tiptoe, she 
 scanned his face, in her own dialect, Muggins talked to 
 herself about him as he lay there so still, not a muscle 
 moving, save those about the corners of his mouth, where 
 a smile was struggling for life, as Hugh listened to Mug's 
 remarks. 
 
 " Nice Mas'r Hugh most as white as Miss Alice. De 
 sweat has washed de dirt all off. Pretty Mas'r Hugh ! " 
 and Mug's little black hand was laid caressingly on the 
 face -she admired so much. "I mean to ask God about 
 him, just like I see Miss Alice do,' 2 she continued, and 
 stealing to the opposite side of the room, Muggins kneeled 
 down, and with her face turned towards Hugh, she said, 
 first, the prayer taught by Alice after an immense amount 
 of labor and patience, after which she contiuued, " If 
 God is hearin' me, will he please do all dat Miss Alice ax 
 him 'bout curin' Mas'r Hugh, only not take him to heav 
 en as she say, and sense Mug, who is nothin' but poor 
 little lazy nigger, all-us round under foot." 
 
 This was too much for Hugh. The sight of that ig 
 norant negro child, kneeling by the window, with her 
 hands clasped supplicatingly together, as she prayed for 
 him in imitation of the Golden-Haired, unmanned him 
 entirely, and hiding his head beneath the sheets, he 
 sobbed aloud. With a nervous start, Mug arose from 
 her knees, and coming towards him, stood for an instant 
 gazing in mute terror at the trembling of the bed-clothes 
 which hid her master from sight. 
 
 "I'll bet he's in a fit. I mean to screech for Miss 
 Alice," and. Muggins was about darting away, when 
 Hugh's long arm caught and held her fast. " Oh, de gra- 
 
WAKING TO CONSCIOUSNESS. 195 
 
 cious, Mas'r Hugh," she cried, "you skeers me so. 
 Does you know me, Mas'r Hugh ?" and somewhat reliev 
 ed by the expression of his face, she took a step towards 
 him. 
 
 " Yes, I know you, and I want to talk a little. Where 
 am I, Mug ? What room, I mean ? " 
 
 " Why, Miss Alice's in course. She 'sisted, and 'sisted, 
 till 'em brung you in here, 'case she say it cool and nice. 
 Oh, Miss Alice so fine." 
 
 " In Miss Johnson's room," and Hugh looked perfectly 
 bewildered, while Mug explained how Miss Alice "had 
 prayed for Mas'r Hugh, and cried for Mas'r Hugh, and 
 she didn't know but she had actually kissed Mas'r Hugh ; 
 any way, she got mighty clus to him sometimes. 
 " Where is she now ? " Hugh asked, and Mug replied, 
 " Eatin' her dinner, she watched las' night and bimeby 
 she's gwine to lie down. I hearn her say so, an' old Miss 
 comin' to set long of you ! " 
 
 Hugh felt a pang of disappointment that he should not 
 probably see Alice that afternoon. But she needed sleep, 
 he knew, and he was mentally chiding himself for his 
 selfishness, when his mother stepped into the room. 
 She looked so pale and thin that Hugh involuntarily 
 groaned as he thought how she had grown weary and 
 worn for him who had sometimes accused her of indiffer 
 ence. The groan caught Mrs. Worthington's ear, and 
 bending over him she said, 
 
 " What is it, Hugh ? " " Are you worse ? Do you want 
 anything ? " 
 
 "ISTo, I'm better the cobwebs are gone. I am myself 
 again dear, darling mother/' and Hugh stretched his 
 hands towards her. 
 
 " Oh, my boy, I am so glad, so glad ! God is good to 
 give you back, when I've never served Him all my life, 
 but I'm trying to now. Oh, Hugh, my heart is so full," 
 and Mrs. Worthington's tears dropped fast, as like a wea- 
 
196 HUGH WORTIIINGTON. 
 
 ry child, which wanted to be so-Jthed, she laid her head 
 upon his bosom, crying quietly. 
 
 . And Hugh, stronger now than she, held the poor, tired 
 head there, and kissed the white forehead, where there 
 were more wrinkles than when he last observed it. 
 
 Folding his weak arms about her, mother and son wept 
 together in that moment of perfect understanding and 
 union with each other. Hugh was the first to rally. It 
 seemed so pleasant to lean on him, to know that he cared 
 so much for her, that Mrs. Worthington would gladly have 
 rested on his bosom longer, but Hugh who noticed that 
 she held an open letter in her hand brought her back to 
 something of the old, sad life, by asking. 
 
 " If the letter were from 'Lina ? " 
 
 " Yes, and I cant make it all out you know she writes 
 so blind." 
 
 " It never troubles rne, and I feel perfectly able to read 
 it," Hugh said, and taking the letter from her unresisting 
 hand, he asked that another pillow should be placed 
 beneath his head, while he read it aloud. 
 
 The pillow was arranged, and then Mrs. Worthington 
 sat down upon the bed to hear the letter, which read as 
 follows : 
 
 " FIFTH AVENUE HOTEL, NEW YORK, 
 
 " October, 1860 : 
 " DEAR MOTHER, 
 
 " What a little eternity it is since I heard from you, and 
 how am I to know that you are not all dead and buried. 
 Were it not that no news is good news, I should some 
 times fancy that Hugh was worse, and feel terribly for not 
 having gone home when you did. But of course if he 
 were worse, you would write, and so I settle down upon 
 that, and quiet my troublesome conscience. 
 
 "Now, then, to business, I want Hugh, to send me some 
 money, or all is lost. Let me explain. 
 
WAKING TO CONSCIOUSNESS. 197 
 
 " Here I am at Fifth Avenue Hotel, as good as any la 
 dy, if my purse is almost empty. Plague on it, why didn't 
 that Mrs. Johnson send me two thousand instead of one ? 
 It would not hurt her, and then I should get through 
 nicely." 
 
 " You see that thousand is almost gone and as board is 
 two and a half dollars per day, I can't stay long and shop 
 in Broadway with old Mrs. Richards as I am expected to 
 do in my capacity of heiress. There never was so lucky 
 a hit as that, or anything that took so well, just think I, 
 Adeline Worthington, nee Adeline Murdoch, who used to 
 help wash her own clothes in Elmwood, and who once 
 talked of learning a vulgar trade, and did sew a week for 
 old Aunt Jerusha Tubbs, here am I, metamorphosed into 
 a Kentucky heiress, who can say and do anything she 
 pleases on the strength of being an heiress, and hailing 
 from a State where folks own niggers. I tell you, Spring 
 Bank, Kentucky has done wonders for me in the way 
 of getting me noticed. 
 
 " You see I am a pure Southern woman here ; nobody 
 but Mrs. Richards knows that I was born, mercy knows 
 where. But for you, she never need have known it eith 
 er, but you must tell that we had not always lived in Ken 
 tucky. Honestly, I was glad when you left. 
 
 " But to do Mrs. Richards justice, she never alludes to 
 my birth, and you ought to hear her introduce me to some 
 of her friends, ' Mrs. So and So, Miss Worthington, from 
 Spring Bank, Kentucky,' then in an aside, which I am not 
 supposed to hear, she adds, ' A great heiress, of a very re 
 spectable family. You may have heard of them.' Some 
 how, this always makes me uncomfortable, as it brings up 
 certain cogitations touching that scamp you were silly 
 enough to marry, thereby giving me to the world, which 
 my delectable brother no doubt thinks would have been 
 better off without me. But to proceed 
 
 " We left Saratoga a week ago old lady Richards 
 
198 HUGH WORTHLNGTON. 
 
 wanted to go to Terrace Hill awhile and show me to Anna, 
 who it seems is a kind of family oracle. If she approve 
 Johnny's choice, it is all right.** 
 
 " Who is Johnny f " Hugh asked, his face a purplish 
 hue and contrasting strangely with the ashen one resting 
 on his shoulder. 
 
 Mrs. "Worthington explained to him what she knew of 
 Dr. Richards, and Hugh went on : 
 
 "After counting the little gold eagles in my purse, I said 
 perhaps I'd go for a few days, though I dreaded it terri 
 bly, for the doctor had not yet bound himself fast, and I 
 did not know w T hat the result of those three old maid sis 
 ters, sitting on me, would be. Old lady was quite happy 
 in prospect of going home, when one day a letter come 
 from Anna.* I happened to have a headache, and was ly_ 
 ing on madam's bed, when the dinner bell rang. Of course 
 I insisted that madam should go down without me, and 
 of course she went. It was tedious lying there alone, 
 and to pass away the time I just peeped into the letter, 
 feeling amply rewarded by the insight I obtained into the 
 family secrets. 
 
 " They are poorer than I supposed, but that does not 
 matter, position is what I want. Anna has an income of 
 her own, and, generous soul that she is, gives it out to her 
 mother. You see there had been some talk of her coming 
 to Saratoga, and in referring to it, said, ' Much as I might 
 enjoy it, I cannot afford to come, I can pay your bills for 
 some time longer, if you really think the water a benefit, 
 but my presence would just double the expense. Then, 
 if brother does marry, I wish to surprise him with a hand 
 some set of pearls for his bride, and I am economizing to 
 do so.' (Note by 'Lina) Isn't she a clever old soul ? 
 Don't she deserve a better sister-in-law than I shall make 
 her, and won't I find the way to her purse often?" 
 
 Hugh groaned aloud, and the letter dropped from his 
 hand. 
 
WAKING TO CONSCIOUSNESS. 199 
 
 " Mother," he gasped, " it must not be. 'Lina shall not 
 thrust herself upon them. This Anna shall not be so cru 
 elly deceived. I don't care a picayune for the doctor or 
 the old lady. They are much like 'Lina, I reckon, but 
 this Anna awakens my sympathy. I mean to warn her." 
 
 " Hugh," and in the mothers voice there was a tone 
 which startled him, "Hugh, let her alone. Let Dr. 
 Richards marry her if he will. You and I shall be " 
 
 The trembling voice faltered, for it could not say " hap 
 pier without her," but Hugh understood it, and smoothing 
 the soft, thin hair of the head nestling close to him, he re. 
 plied, 
 
 " Yes we should be happier with 'Lina gone, but there's 
 a right and there's a wrong, which is it best to choose ? '> 
 
 " I don't know. Oh, I don't know. The right, I suppose. 
 We'll decide by and by. Read on." 
 
 And Hugh did read on, feeling as if he, too were guilty, 
 thus to know what Anna Richards had intended only for 
 her mothers eye. 
 
 " ' From some words you have dropped, I fancy that 
 Miss Worthington does not suit you in all respects, and 
 you wish me to see her. Dear mother, John marries for 
 himself, not for ^s, and though I could wish my new sis 
 ter to be every way congenial, I shall try to like her, even 
 if there are certain little coarse points about her. These 
 may result from education rather than bad blood, and if 
 so, they can easily be rubbed off. If she is bright and 
 observing she will soon learn that slang phrases together 
 with loud talking and laughing, are not lady-like or marks 
 of cultivation. But we must be very cautious not to let 
 her know what we are doing. Extreme kindness and af 
 fection must mark every action, and in the end we shall 
 succeed. If John is satisfied and happy, that is all I ask. 
 Asenath and Eudora think you had better persuade her 
 to come home with you for a few days before going to 
 New York, and I concur in their wishes. The house will 
 
200 ' HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 ii 
 
 seem dull to her, no doubt, after Saratoga gayeties, but 
 we will make it as pleasant as possible. 
 
 " ' When will you come ? Asenath has sent the cur 
 tains in the north chamber to the laundress, but will go 
 no farther until we hear for certain that Miss Worthing- 
 ton is to be our guest. Write immediately . 
 
 " ' Yours, affectionately, ANNA.' 
 " ' Remember me to John and Miss W ' 
 
 " There then, this is what I read, lying on madam's 
 bed, and it decided my future course. Do you suppose 
 I'm going to Terrace Hill to be watched by that trio of 
 
 old maids ? No, ma'am, not by a , I was going to 
 
 say 'jug full,' but remembered slang phrases just in time. 
 Anna would be delighted with that improvement. 
 
 " I am resolved now to win Dr. Richards at all haz 
 ards. Only let me keep up the appearance of wealth, 
 and the thing is easily accomplished ; but I can't go to 
 Terrace Hill yet, cannot meet this Anna, for, I dread her 
 decision more than all the rest, inasmuch as I know it 
 would have more weight with the doctor. 
 
 "But to come back to madam. - I was fast asleep 
 when she returned. Had not read Annans letter, nor any 
 thing ! You should have seen her face when I told her I 
 had changed my mind, that I could not go to Terrace Hill, 
 that mamma (that's you !) did not think it would be proper, 
 inasmuch as I had no claim upon them. You see, I made 
 her believe I had written to you on the subject, receiving 
 a reply that you disapproved of my going, and brother 
 Hugh, too, I quote him a heap, making madam laugh till 
 she cries with repeating his odd speeches, she does so 
 want to see that eccentric Hugh, she says." 
 
 Another groan from Mrs. Worthington something 
 sounding like an oath from Hugh, and he went on : 
 
 " I said, brother was afraid it was improper under the 
 
WAKING TO CONSCIOUSNESS, jf 201 
 
 circumstances for me to go, afraid lest people should talk . 
 that I preferred going at once to New York. So it was 
 finally decided, to the doctor's relief, I fancied, that we 
 come here, and here we are hotel just like a beehive> 
 and my room is in the fifth story. 
 
 It is very expensive staying here at two dollars and a 
 half per day, and I want so much to see England's future 
 king. Then, too, I am determined to bring the doctor to 
 terms, and so rid you and Hugh of myself, but to do 
 this, I must have more money, and you must manage 
 some way to get it. Beg, borrow, pawn, or steal, any 
 thing to get it at once. 
 
 " Your distracted 
 
 Lina." 
 
 " P. S. One day later. Rejoice, oh, rejoice ! and give 
 ear. The doctor has actually asked the question, and I 
 blushingly referred him to mamma, but he seemed to 
 think this unnecessary, took alarm at once, and pressed 
 the matter until I said yes. Aren't you glad ? But one 
 thing is sure Hugh must sell a nigger to get me a 
 handsome outfit. There's Mug, always under foot, doing 
 no one any good. She'll bring six hundred any day, 
 she's so bright and healthy. Nobody will think of abus 
 ing her either, she's so cunning, and thus Hugh can 
 swallow his Abolition principles for once, and bestir him 
 self to find a buyer for Muggins. Lulu he must give 
 me out and out for a waiting maid. There's no other al 
 ternative." 
 
 ; , So absorbed were Hugh and his mother, as not to hear 
 the low howl of fear echoing through the hall, as Mug 
 fled in terror from the dreaded new owner to whom Mas 
 ter Hugh was to sell her. Neither did they hear the cat 
 like tread with which Lulu glided past the door, taking 
 the same direction Mug had gone, namely, to Alice John- 
 
202 HUGH WOBTHIXGTON. 
 
 Lulu had been sitting by the open window at the end 
 of the hall, and had heard every word of this letter, while 
 Mug, sent by Chloe on some errand to Mrs. Worthington, 
 had reached the threshold in time to hear all that was 
 said about selling her. Instinctively both turned for pro 
 tection to Alice, but Mug was the first to reach her. 
 Throwing herself upon her knees and hiding her face in 
 Alice's dress she sobbed frantically, 
 
 " You buys me, Miss Alice. You give Mas'r Hugh six 
 hundred dollars for me, so't he can get Miss 'Lina's wed- 
 din' finery. I'll be good, I will. I'll learn de Lord's prar, 
 ebery word on't ; will you, Miss Alice, say ? " 
 
 In amazement Alice tried to wrest her muslin dress from 
 the child's grasp, asking what she meant. 
 
 " I know, I'll tell," and Lulu scarcely less excited, but 
 more capable of restraining herself, advanced into the room, 
 and ere the bewildered Alice could well understand what 
 it all meant, or make more than a feeble attempt to stop 
 her, she had repeated rapidly the entire contents of 'Lina's 
 letter, omitting nothing of any consequence, but, as was 
 quite natural, dwelling longest upon the engagement, as 
 that was the point which particularly concerned herself 
 and Muggins. 
 
 Too much amazed at first to speak, Alice sat motionless, 
 then rallying her scattered senses, she said to Lulu, 
 
 " I am sorry that you told me this, sorry you knew it 
 to tell. It was wrong in you to listen, and you must not 
 repeat it to any one else. Will you promise ? " 
 
 Lulu would do anything which Alice asked, and she 
 gave the required promise, then with terror in every line 
 ament of her face she said, 
 
 " But, Miss Alice, must I be Miss 'Lina's waiting maid? 
 Will Master Hugh permit it ? " 
 
 Alice did not know Hugh as well as we do, and in her 
 heart there was a fear lest for the sake of peace he might 
 be overruled, resolving in her mind that Lulu and Mug- 
 
WAKING TO CONSCIOUSNESS. 208 
 
 gins should change owners ere the capricious 'Lina's re 
 turn, and endeavoring as far as she could to quiet both. 
 It was no easy task, however, to soothe Muggins, 
 and only Alice's direct avowal that if possible she 
 would herself become her purchaser, checked her cries at 
 all, but the moment this was said her sobbing ceased, and 
 Alice was able to question Lulu as to whether it was re 
 ally Hugh who had read the letter. 
 
 Lulu assured her that it was, and feeling that he must 
 be better, Alice dismissed both Lulu and Mug, and then 
 sat down to reflect as to her next best course of action. 
 
 Adah must go to Terrace Hill, and if Alice's suspicions 
 were correct the projected marriage would be prevented 
 without further interference, for Lina was not bad enough 
 deliberately to take for a husband one who had so cruelly 
 wronged another, and even if she were, Anna had power 
 to stop it. Adah must go, and Alice's must be the purse 
 which defrayed all the expense of fitting her up. If ever 
 Alice felt thankful to God for having made her rich in 
 this world's goods, it was that morning when so many 
 calls for money seemed crowding on her at once. Only 
 the previous night she had heard from Col. Tiffton that 
 the day was fixed for the sale of his house, that he had 
 no hope of redeeming it, and that Nell had nearly cried 
 herself into a second fever at the thpughts of leaving 
 Mosside. " Then there's Rocket? the colonel had said, 
 " Hugh cannot buy him back, and he's so bound up in 
 him too, poor Hugh," and with quivering lip the colonel 
 had wrung Alice's hand, hurrying off ere she had time to 
 suggest what all along had been in her mind. 
 
 " It does not matter," she thought. " A surprise will 
 be quite as pleasant, and then Mr. Liston may object to 
 it as a silly girl's fancy." 
 
 This was the previous night, and now this morning 
 another demand had come in the shape of Muggins weep- 
 
204 HUGH WOETHINGT01S-. 
 
 ing in her lap, and Lulu begging to be saved from 'Lina 
 Worthington. 
 
 Meantime in the sick room there was a consultation 
 between mother and son, touching the money for which 
 'Lina had asked, and which Hugh declined sending to 
 her. She had shown herself too heartless for any 
 thing, he said, and were it not for Anna, who was too 
 good to be so terribly duped, he should be glad when 
 that Dr. took her off his hands ; then he spoke of Alice 
 asking many questions concerning her, and -at last ex 
 pressing a wish to see, and talk with her. This wish 
 Mrs. Worthington at once communicated to Alice, who 
 rather reluctantly went to his room, feeling that it was 
 to all intents and purposes her first meeting with Hugh. 
 
 " This is Miss Johnson," Mrs. Worthington said, as 
 Alice drew near, a bright flush spreading over her face 
 as she met Hugh's look, expressive of more than grati 
 tude. 
 
 " I fancy I am to a certain degree indebted to Miss 
 Johnson for my life," Hugh said, offering her his hand, 
 while Ije thanked her for her kindness to him during the 
 long weeks of his illness. 
 
 " I was not wholly unconscious of your presence," he 
 continued, still holding her hand. " There were moments 
 when I had a vagute idea of somebody different from those 
 I have always known bending over me, and I fancied, too, 
 that this somebody was sent to save me from some great 
 evil. I am glad you were here, Miss Johnson ; I shall not 
 forget your kindness." 
 
 He dropped her hand then, while Alice attempted to 
 stammer out some reply. 
 
 " Adah, too, had been kind," she said, " quite as kind as 
 herself." 
 
 " Yes, Adah is a dear, good girl," Hugh replied. c .' She 
 is to me all a sister could be. Do you like Adah ? " 
 
 " Yes, very much." 
 
WAKING TO CONSCIOUSNESS. 205 
 
 " I'm glad, for she is worthy of your love. She has 
 been terribly wronged, sometime she may tell you." 
 
 " She has told me," Alice replied, while Hugh continu 
 ed, " I am sure you will respect her just the same." 
 
 Alice had not intended to talk with him of Adah then, 
 but he had introduced the subject and so she said to him, 
 
 " I had thought to tell you of a plan which Mrs. Hast 
 ings has in view, but perhaps, I had better wait till you 
 are stronger." 
 
 " I am strong enough now stronger than you think. 
 Tell me of the plan," and Hugh urged the request until 
 Alice told him of Terrace Hill and Adah's wish to go 
 there. 
 
 For a few minutes Hugh lay perfectly still. Once he 
 would have spurned the idea, for Spring Bank would be 
 so lonely without Adah and the little boy, but Alice was 
 there now ; Alice was worth a dozen Adahs, and so he 
 said at last, " I have heard of the Richards family before. 
 You know the Dr. I believe. Do you like him ? Is he a 
 man to be trusted ? " 
 
 " Yes, I know Dr. Richards," Alice replied, half resolv 
 ing to tell Hugh all she feared, but feeling that possibly 
 she might be wrong in her suspicions, she concluded not 
 to do so, Adah's presence at Terrace Hill would settle that 
 matter, and she asked again if he did jiot think it well for 
 her to go. 
 
 " Yes, on some accounts," Hugh answered, thinking of 
 'Lina. But it looks too much like sending her out alone 
 into the world. Does she wish to go ? Is she anxious ? 
 Call her, please. 1 would hear from her what she has to 
 say." 
 
 Adah came at once, advancing so many reasons why 
 she should go that Hugh consented at last, and it was 
 finally settled that she should leave as soon as the neces 
 sary additions could be made to her own and Willie's, 
 wardrobe. 
 
206 HUGH WOKTHINGTON. 
 
 This being arranged, Alice and Adah withdrew, and 
 Hugh was left alone to think over the incidents of his 
 interview with Alice. He had not expected her to recog 
 nize him by his name, because she had not learned it when 
 on board the steamer, neither did he really expect her to 
 recognize his features, for he knew he had changed ma 
 terially since that time, still he was conscious of a feeling 
 of disappointment that she did not remember him, and 
 once he thought to tell her who he was, but he would 
 rather she should find that out herself; and while wonder 
 ing what she would do and say when it did come to her 
 knowledge that he was the lad who tried to save her life, 
 he fell away to sleep. 
 
 Three weeks later there came another letter from 'Lina, 
 and with his mother sitting beside him, Hugh read it 
 aloud, learning " that Irvkig Stanley's widowed sister, Mrs. 
 Carrie Ellsworth, was in New York and had come to the 
 hotel with her brother, that having an object in view 'Lina 
 had done her best to cultivate Mrs. Ellsworth, presuming 
 a great deal on their relationship, and making herself so 
 agreeable to her child, a most ugly piece of deformity, 
 that cousin Carrie^ who had hired a furnished house for 
 the winter, had invited her to spend the season with her, 
 and she was now snugly ensconced in most delightful 
 quarters on Twenty-second street, between Fifth and Sixth 
 avenues. Sometimes," she wrote, "I half suspect Mrs 
 Ellsworth did not think I would jump at her invitation so 
 quick, but I don't care. The doctor, for some reason or 
 other, has deferred our marriage until spring, and dear 
 knows I am not coming to Spring Bank any sooner than 
 I can help. The doctor, of course, would insist upon ac 
 companying me, and that would explode my bubble at 
 once. When I am ready to return, Hugh must do the 
 brotherly, and come for me, so that the first inkling the 
 doctor gets of Spring Bank will be when he comes to 
 have tied the nuptial knot. I'm half sorry to think how 
 
WAKING TO CONSCIOUSNESS. 207 
 
 disappointed he will be, for I begin to like him, and mean 
 to make up in goodness what I lack in gold. 
 
 " By the way, Adah must not go to Terrace Hill as 
 you wrote she thought of doing. You are crazy to think of 
 it, of course they would quiz her to death about me and 
 Spring Bank. So tie her up, or throttle her, or do some 
 thing if she persists in going. 
 
 "I shall buy my bridal trousseau under Mrs. Ellsworth's 
 supervision. She has exquisite taste, and Hugh must 
 send the money. As I told him before, he can sell Mug. 
 Harney will buy her. He likes pretty darkies." 
 
 " Oh, horror ! can Ad be a woman, with womanly feel 
 ings ! " Hugh exclaimed, as he deliberately tore the let 
 ter in fragments, and scattered them, over the floor, feel 
 ing for a moment as if he hated his sister. 
 
 But he struggled hard to cast the bitterness away, and 
 after a moment was able to listen and answer calmly, 
 while his mother asked if it would not be better to per 
 suade Adah riot to go to Terrace Hill. 
 
 " It may interfere with 'Lina's plans," she said, " and 
 now it's gone so far, it seems a pity to have it broken up. 
 I know it is not right to deceive him so, but but I 
 don't know what. It's it's very pleasant with 'Lina 
 gone," and with a choking sob, Mrs. Worthington laid 
 her face upon the pillow, ashamed and sorry that the 
 real sentiments of her heart were thus laid bare. 
 
 It was terrible for a mother to feel that her home 
 would be happier for the absence of an only daughter, 
 but she did feel so, and it made her half willing that Dr. 
 Richards should be deceived. But Hugh shrank from 
 the dishonorable proceeding. He would not interfere 
 himself, but if Adah could be the agent through whose 
 instrumentality the fraud was prevented, he would be 
 glad, and he answered decidedly that " She must go." 
 
 Mrs. Worthington always yielded to Hugh, and she 
 did so now, mentally resolving, however, to say a few 
 
208 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 words to Adah, relative to her not divulging anything 
 which could possibly harm 'Lin a, such as telling how 
 poor they were, or anything like that. This done, Mrs. 
 Worthington felt easier, and as Hugh looked tired and 
 worried, she left him for a time, having first called Mug 
 gins to gather up the fragments of 'Lina's letter which 
 Hugh had thrown upon the carpet. 
 
 " Yes, burn every trace of it," Hugh said, watching the 
 child as she picked up piece by piece, and threw them 
 into the grate. 
 
 " I means to save dat ar. I'll play I has a letter for 
 Miss Alice," Mug thought, as she came upon a bit larger 
 than the others, and when she left the room there was 
 hidden in her bosom that part of 'Lina's letter relating 
 to herself and Harney. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE SALE. 
 
 Col. Tiffton could not pay the $10,000 note which he 
 had foolishly endorsed, and as Harney knew no mercy 
 where his interest was concerned. Mosside must be sold 
 and the day of the sale had come. There was a crowd 
 of people out and they waited anxiously for the shrill 
 voice and hammer of the auctioneer, a portly little man, 
 who felt more for the family than his appearance would 
 indicate. 
 
 There had been a long talk that morning between him 
 self and a young lady, whose beauty had thrilled his heart, 
 just as it did every heart beating beneath a male's attire. 
 The lady had seemed a little nervous, as she talked, cast 
 ing anxious glances up the Lexington turnpike, and asking 
 several times when the Lexington cars were due. 
 
THE SALE. 209 
 
 " It shan't make no difference. I'll take your word," the 
 auctioneer had said in reply to some doubts expressed by 
 her. " I'd trust your face for a million," and with a profound 
 bow by way of emphasising his compliment, the well 
 meaning Skinner went out to the group assembled in the 
 yard, while the lady returned to the upper chamber where 
 Mrs. Tiffton and Ellen were weeping bitterly and refusing 
 to be comforted. 
 
 From Ellen's chamber a small glass door opened out 
 upon an open balcony, where the Colonel sat leaning on 
 his cane, and watching the movements in the yard below. 
 To this balcony, and the glass door communicating with 
 it, many eyes were directed, for it was known the family 
 were in that vicinity, and it was also whispered that Miss 
 Johnson, the beautiful young lady from Spring Bank was 
 there, and great was the anxiety of some for a sight of 
 her. But neither Ellen nor Alice were visible for the first 
 hour, and only the white-haired colonel kept watch while 
 one after another of his household goods were sold. 
 
 The crowd grew weary at last they must have brisk 
 er sport, if they would keep warm in that chilly Novem 
 ber wind, and cries for the " horses " were heard. 
 
 " Your crack ones, too. I'm tired of this," growled 
 Harney, and Ellen's riding pony was led out, the one she 
 loved and petted almost as much as Hugh had petted 
 Rocket. The Colonel saw the playful animal, and with 
 a moan tottered to Ellen's chamber, saying, 
 
 " They are going to sell Beauty, Nell. Poor Nellie, 
 don't cry," and the old man laid his hand on his weeping 
 daughter's head. 
 
 " Colonel Tiffton, this way please," and Alice spoke in 
 a whisper. " I want Beauty, and I expected I thought 
 " here she glanced again up* the turnpike, but seeing 
 no one continued, " Couldn't you bid for me, bid all you 
 would be willing to give if you were bidding for Ellen ? " 
 
 The colonel looked at her in a kind of dazed, bewil - 
 
210 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 dered way, as if not fully comprehending her, till she re 
 peated her request ; then mechanically he went back to 
 his post on the balcony, and just as Harney's last bed was 
 about to receive the final gone, he raised it twenty dollars 
 and ere Harney had time to recover his astonishment? 
 Beauty was disposed of, and the Colonel's servant Ham 
 led her in triumph back to the stable. 
 
 With a fierce scowl of defiance Harney called for Rock 
 et. He had not forgotten that knock-down months before, 
 when Hugh resented the insult offered to Adah Hastings. 
 He had hated him ever since had sworn to have revenge, 
 and as one mode of taking it, he would secure Rocket at 
 all hazards. Even that morning as he rode past Spring 
 Bank, he had thought with a fiendish exultation, how he 
 would seek the opportunity to provoke to restlessness and 
 then cowhide Rocket in Hugh's presence as a means of 
 repaying the knock-down ! And this was the savage, 
 who, with eager, expectant look upon his visage, stood 
 waiting for Rocket. 
 
 Suspecting something wrong the animal refused to come 
 out, and planting his fore feet firmly upon the floor of his 
 stable, kept them all at bay. With a fierce oath, the bru 
 tal Harney gave him a stinging blow, which made the ten 
 der flesh quiver with pain, but the fiery gleam in the ani 
 mal's eye warned him not to repeat it. Suddenly among 
 the excited group of dusky faces he spied that of Claib, 
 and bade him lead out the horse. 
 
 " I can't. Oh, mars'r, for the dear " Claib began, 
 
 but Harney's riding whip silenced him and he went sub 
 missively in to Rocket, who became as gentle beneath his 
 touch as a lamb. 
 
 Loud were the cries of admiration which hailed his ap 
 pearance ; and Alice would have known that something 
 important was pending without the colonel's groan, 
 
 " Oh, Rocket ! Poor Hugh ! It hurts me for the boy 
 more than any thing -else ! " 
 
THE SALE. 211 
 
 With one last despairing glance up the still lonely 'pike 
 Alice hurried to the door, and looked out upon the eager 
 throng. Gathered in a knot around Rocket were all the 
 noted horse-dealers of the country, and conspicuous among 
 them was Harney, his face wearing a most disagreeable 
 expression, as in reply to some remark of one of his com 
 panions he said, by way of depreciating Rocket, and thus 
 preventing bids, 
 
 " Yes, quite a fancy piece, but ain't worth a row of pins. 
 Been fed with sugar plums too much. Why, it will take 
 all the gads in Kentucky to break him in." 
 
 The bids were very rapid, for Rocket was popular, but 
 Harney bided his time, standing silently by, with a look 
 on his face of cool contempt for those who presumed to 
 think they could be the fortunate ones. He was prepared 
 to give more than any one else. Nobody would go above 
 his figure, he had set it so high higher even than Rock 
 et was really worth. Five hundred and fifty, if necessa 
 ry. No one would rise above that, Harney was sure, and 
 he quietly waited until the bids were far between, and the 
 auctioneer still dwelling upon the last, seemed waiting ex 
 pectantly for something. 
 
 " I believe my soul the fellow knows I mean to have 
 that horse," thought Harney, and with an air which said, 
 that settles it," he called out in loud, clear tones, " Four 
 Hundred," thus adding fifty at one bid. 
 
 There was a slight movement then in the upper balco 
 ny, an opening of the glass door, and a suppressed whis 
 per ran through the crowd, as Alice came out and stood 
 by the colonel's side. 
 
 The bidding went on briskly now, each bidder raising 
 a few dollars, till $450 were reached, and then there 
 came a pause, broken at last by a silvery half-tremulous 
 voice, which passed like an electric shock through the 
 eager crowd, and roused Harney to a perfect fury. 
 
 "Five Hundred." 
 
212 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 There was no mistaking the words, and with a mut 
 tered curse Harney yelled out his price, all he had meant 
 to give. Again that girlish voice was heard, this time 
 clear and decisive as it added ten to Harney's five hundred 
 and fifty. Harney knew now who it was that bid against 
 him, for, following the eyes of those around him, he saw 
 her where she stood, her long curls blowing about her 
 fair, flushed face, one little hand resting on the colonel's 
 shoulder, the other holding together Ellen Tiffton's crim 
 son scarf, which she had thrown over her black dress to 
 shield her from the cold. There was nothing immodest 
 or unmaidenly in her position, and no one felt that there 
 was. Profound respect and admiration were the only 
 feelings she elicited from the spectators, unless we except 
 the villain Harney, and even he stood gazing at her for a 
 moment, struck with her marvellous beauty, and the look 
 of quiet resolution upon her childish face. Had Alice 
 been told six months before that she would one day 
 mingle conspicuously in a Kentucky horse-sale as ^the 
 competitor of such a man as Harney, she would have 
 scoffed at the idea, and even now she had no distinct 
 consciousness of what she was doing. 
 
 Up to the latest possible moment she had watched the 
 distant highway, and when there was no longer hope, 
 had stolen to the colonel's side, and whispered in his ear 
 what he must say. 
 
 " It will not do for me," he replied. " Say it yourself. 
 There's no impropriety," and, almost ere she was aware 
 of it, Alice's voice joined itself with the din which ceased 
 as her distinct " Five Hundred " came ringing through 
 the air. 
 
 Harney was mad with rage, for he knew well for whom 
 that fair Northern girl was interested. He had heard 
 that she was rich how rich he did not know 
 but fancied she might possibly be worth a few paltry 
 thousands, and so, of course she was not prepared to 
 
THE SALE. 213 
 
 compete with him, who counted his gold by hundreds of 
 thousands. Five hundred was. all she would give for 
 Rocket. How, then, was he surprised and chagrined 
 when, with a coolness equal to his own, she kept steadily 
 on, scarcely allowing the auctioneer to repeat his bid be 
 fore she increased it and once, womanlike, raising on her 
 own. 
 
 " Fie, Harney ! Shame to go against a girl ! Better 
 give it up, for don't you see she's resolved to have him ? 
 She's worth half Massachusetts, too, they say." 
 
 These and like expressions met Harney on every side 
 until at last, as he paused to answer some of them, grow 
 ing heated in the altercation, and for the instant forget 
 ting Rocket, the auctioneer brought the hammer down 
 with a click which made Harney leap from the ground, 
 for by that sound he knew that Rocket was sold to Alice 
 Johnson for six hundred dollars ! There was a horrid oath 
 a fierce scowl at Alice passing from his view, and then, 
 with the muttered sneer, "I wonder if she intends to buy 
 the farm and niggers ? " Harney tried to hide his discom 
 fiture by saying, " he was glad on the whole, for he did 
 not really want the horse, and had only bidden from 
 spite ! " 
 
 Meantime Alice had sought the friendly shelter of El 
 len's room, where the tension of nerve endured so long 
 gave way, and sinking upon the sofa she fainted just as 
 down the Lexington turnpike came the man looked for so 
 long in the earlier part of the day. Alice had written to 
 Mr. Liston a few weeks previous to the sale, and indulg. 
 ent almost to a fault to his beautiful ward, he had replied 
 that he would surely be at Mosside in time. 
 
 He had kept his word, and it was his familiar voice 
 which brought Alice back to consciousness ; and pressing 
 his hand, she told him what she had done, and asked if it 
 were unmaidenly. She could not err, in Mr. Liston's esti 
 mation, and with his assurance that all was right, Alice 
 
214 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 grew calm, and in a hurried consultation explained to him 
 more definitely than her letter had done, what her wishes 
 were Colonel Tiffton must not be homeless in his old 
 
 age. There were 10,000 dollars lying in the Bank in 
 
 Massachusetts, and she would have Mosside purchased in 
 her name for Colonel Tiffton, not as a gift, for he would 
 not accept it, but as a loan, to be paid at his convenience. 
 This was Alice's plan, and Mr. Listen acted upon it at 
 once. Taking his place in the motley assemblage, he bid 
 quietly, steadily, until the whisper ran round, " Who is 
 that man in that butternut-colored coat ? " 
 
 None knew who he was though all came to the conclu 
 sion that Harney's hope of securing Mosside was as futile 
 as had been his hope of getting Rocket. There were 
 others disappointed, too the fair matrons who coveted 
 Mrs. Tiffton's carpets, mirrors, and cut-glass, all of which 
 passed to the stranger. When it came to the negroes he 
 winced a little, wondering what his abolition friends would 
 say to see him bidding off his own flesh and blood, but 
 the end answered the means, he thought, and so he kept 
 on until at last Mosside, with its appurtenances, belonged 
 ostensibly to him, and the half glad, half disappointed 
 people wondered greatly who Mr. Jacob Liston could be, 
 or from what quarter of the globe he had suddenly drop 
 ped into their midst. 
 
 Col. Tiffton knew that nearly every thing had been pur 
 chased by him, and felt glad that a stranger rather than 
 a neighbor was to occupy what had been so dear to him, 
 and that his servants would not be separated. With El 
 len it was different. A neighbor might allow them to re 
 main there a time, she said, while a*stranger would not, 
 and she was weeping bitterly, when, as the sound of 
 voices and the tread of feet gradually died away from the 
 yard below, Alice came to her side, and bending over her 
 said softly, " Could you bear some good news now ; 
 bear to know who is to inhabit Mosside ? " 
 
THE HIDE. 215 
 
 " Good news ? " and Ellen looked up wonderingly. 
 
 " Yes, good news, I think you will call it," and then as 
 delicately a$ possible Alice told what had been done, and 
 that the colonel was still to occupy his old home. " As 
 my tenant, if you like," she said to him, when he began 
 to demur. " You will not find me a hard landlady," and 
 with playful raillery she succeeded in bringing a smile to 
 his face, where tears also were visible. 
 
 When at last it was clear to the old man, he laid his 
 hand upon the head of the young girl and whispered 
 huskily, " I cannot thank you as I would, or tell you 
 what's in my heart. God bless you, Alice Johnson. I 
 wish I too, had found him early as you have, for I know 
 it's He that put this into your mind. God bless you, God 
 bless my child." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 * 
 
 THE HIDE. 
 
 That night after her return from Mosside, Alice had 
 playfully remarked to Hugh, "The Doctor says you stay 
 too closely in the house. You need more exercise, and 
 to-morrow I am going to coax you to ride with me, I am 
 getting quite proud of my horsemanship, and want your 
 opinion, I shall not take an excuse. You are mine for a 
 part of to-morrow," she added, as she saw him about to 
 speak, and casting upon him her most bewildering smile, 
 she hastily quitted the room, but not until she heard his 
 smothered sigh and guessed that he was thinking of Rock 
 et. He had not asked a question concerning Mosside, and 
 only knew that a stranger had bought it with all its ap 
 purtenances. Rocket he had not mentioned, though his 
 pet was really uppermost in his mind, and when he woke 
 
216 HUGH WORTHINGTOX. 
 
 next morning from his feverish sleep and remembered 
 Alice's proposal to ride, he said to himself, " I cannot go, 
 much as I might enjoy it. No other horse would carry 
 me as gently as Rocket. Oh, Rocket ! " 
 
 This was always the despairing cry with which Hugh 
 ended his cogitation of Rocket, and he said it now bitter 
 ly, without the shadow of a hope. 
 
 It was a bright, balmy morning, unlike the chilly one 
 of the previous day, and Hugh, as he walked slowly to 
 the window and inhaled the fragrant air, felt that it would 
 do him good. "But I shan't go," he said, and when, af 
 ter breakfast was over, Alice came, reminding him of the 
 ride, telling him she was going then to get herself in 
 readiness, and should expect to find him waiting when 
 she came back, he began an excuse, but his resolution 
 quickly gave way before her sprightly arguments, and he 
 finally assented, saying, however, by way of apology, " You 
 must not expect a gay cavalier, for I am still too weak, and 
 I have no horse fit to ride. 
 
 " Yes, I know," and Alice ran gaily to her room and 
 donned her riding dress, while not less eager than herself, 
 Mrs. Worthington, Aunt Eunice, and Adah stood by, won 
 dering what Hugh would say and how Rocket would act. 
 
 He was out in the back yard now, pawing and curvet 
 ting, and rubbing his nose against all who came near him, 
 while Claib, never so happy in his life, was holding him 
 by his bridle and talking to him of Mars'r Hugh, which 
 name the animal was supposed to recognize. 
 
 " There, I'm ready," Alice said, running down to Hugh, 
 who was so pale, that but for the surprise in store for 
 him, Alice's kind heart would at once have prompted her 
 to give up the project. 
 
 "With a sigh Hugh rose and followed her to the door, 
 where Dido, held by Lulu, stood waiting for them. 
 
 " Where's Jim ? " Hugh asked, glancing round in 
 quest of the huge animal he expected to mount, 
 
THE BIDE. 217 
 
 " Claib lias your horse. He's coming," and with great 
 apparent unconcern Alice worked industriously at one 
 of her gauntlets, which obstinately refused to be buttoned, 
 while the entire household including Mr. Liston, who had 
 come to Spring Bank with Alice, congregated upon the 
 piazza, waiting anxiously for Rocket. 
 
 Suddenly Adah flew to Hugh's side, and said, eagerly, 
 
 " Hugh, please whistle as you used to do for Rocket 
 just once, and let Miss Johnson hear you." 
 
 Hugh felt as if she were mocking him, and answered 
 no, but when Alice added her entreaties to Adah's, and 
 even laid her hand coaxingly on his arm, he yielded, 
 while like a gleam of lightning the shadow of a suspicion 
 flitted across his mind. It was a loud, shrill whistle, pen 
 etrating even to the woods, and as it had never yet failed 
 of its object, so it did not now, for the instant the old fa 
 miliar sound fell on Rocket's ear he started as if a shell 
 had exploded beneath his feet, and breaking away from 
 Claib went tearing round the house, answering that call 
 with the neigh he had been wont to give when sum 
 moned by his master. Utterly speechless Hugh stood 
 gazing at him as he came up, his neck arched proudly, 
 and his silken mane flowing as gracefully as on the day 
 when he was led away to Col. Tiffton's stall. 
 
 " Mother, what does it mean oh, mother ! " and lean 
 ing himself against the pillar of the piazza for support, 
 Hugh turned to his mother for an explanation, but sho 
 did not heed him, so intent was she in watching Rocket, 
 who had reached his master, and seemed to be regard 
 ing him in some perplexity, as if puzzled at his changed 
 appearance. 
 
 Possibly pity is an emotion unknown to the brute crea 
 tion, but surely if pity can be felt by them, it was ex 
 pressed by Rocket, as he stood eyeing his pale, wasted 
 young master; then," with a low c'ry of joy, he lifted his 
 head to Hugh's face, and rubbed against it, trying in va 
 rious ways to evince his delight at seeing him again. 
 
218 HUGH WORTHING TON. 
 
 " Won't anybody tell me what it means ? " Hugh gasp 
 ed, stretching out his hands towards Rocket, who even 
 attempted to lick them. 
 
 At this point Alice stepped forward, and taking Rock 
 et's bridle, laid it across Hugh's lap, saying, softly 
 
 " It means that Rocket is yours, purchased by a friend, 
 saved from Harney, for you. Mount him, and see if he 
 rides as easily as ever. I am impatient to be off." 
 
 But had Hugh's life depended upon it, he could not 
 have mounted Rocket then. He knew the friend was Al 
 ice, and the magnitude of the act overpowered him. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Johnson," he cried, " what made you do it ? 
 It must not be. I cannot suffer it." 
 
 " Not to please me ? " and Alice's face wore its most 
 winning look. " It's been my fixed determination ever 
 since I heard of Rocket, and knew how much you loved 
 him. I was never so happy doing an act in my life, and 
 you must not spoil it all by refusing. Mr. Liston knew 
 and approved of my doing it," and she turned to her 
 guardian, who advanced towards Hugh, and in a few low- 
 spoken words told him how Alice's heart had been set 
 upon redeeming Rocket, and how hurt she would be if 
 Hugh did not accept him. 
 
 " As a loan then, not as a gift," Hugh whispered. "It 
 shall not be a gift." 
 
 " It need not," Alice rejoined, " You shall pay for Rock 
 et if you like, and I'll tell you how on our ride. Shall 
 we go ? " 
 
 There was no longer an excuse for lingering, and with 
 Claib's help Hugh was once more seated in his saddle 
 while Rocket's whole frame quivered with apparent joy 
 at bearing his young master again. They made a splendid 
 looking couple on horseback, and the family watched 
 them admiringly until Hugh, feeling stronger with every 
 breath he drew, struck into a gentle canter, and the hill 
 hid them from view. 
 
THE HIDE. 219 
 
 Once out upon the highway where there were no mud 
 holes to shun, no gates to open and shut, Hugh broached 
 the subject of Rocket again, when Alice told him unhesi 
 tatingly how he could, if he would, pay for him and leave 
 her greatly his debtor. The scrap of paper, which Mug 
 gins had saved from the letter thrown by Hugh upon the 
 carpet, had been placed by the queer little child in an old 
 envelope, which she called her letter to Miss Alice. 
 Handing it to her with the utmost gravity she had asked 
 her to read "Mug's letter," and Alice had read the brief 
 lines written by 'Lina, " Hugh must send the money, as I 
 told him before. He can sell Mug, Harney likes pretty 
 darkies." There was a cold, sick feeling at Alice's heart, 
 a shrinking with horror from 'Lina Worthington, and then 
 she came to a decision. Mug should be hers, and so, as 
 skillfully as she could she brought it round, that having 
 taken a great fancy both to Lulu and Muggins, she wished 
 to buy them both, giving whatever Hugh honestly thought 
 they were worth. Rocket, if he pleased, should be taken 
 as part or whole payment for Mug, and so cease to be a 
 gift. 
 
 Hugh was confounded. Could Alice know what 'Lina 
 had written ? It did not seem possible, and yet she had 
 laid her hand upon the very dilemma which was troubling 
 him so much. If Ad should marry that doctor, she would 
 want money as she had said, and money Hugh could not 
 get unless he sold his negroes. He had said he never 
 would part with them ; but selling them to Alice was vir 
 tually setting them at liberty, and Hugh felt his own 
 heart throb as he thought of Mug's delight when told 
 that she was free. A slave master can love his bond ser 
 vant, and Hugh loved the little Mug so much that the 
 idea of parting with her as he surely must at some future 
 time if he assented to Alice's plan, made him hesitate, and 
 Alice's best arguments were called into requisition ere he 
 came to a decision. But he decided at last, influenced 
 
220 HUGH WOKTHINGTON. 
 
 not so much by need of money as by knowing how much 
 real good the exchange of ownership would do to the two 
 young girls. In return for .Rocket Alice should have 
 Muggins, while for Lulu she might give what she liked. 
 Seven hundred, he had been offered, but he would take 
 less. 
 
 " Heaven knows," he added, as he saw by the expres 
 sion of Alice's face how distasteful to her was the whole 
 idea of bargaining for human flesh and blood, " Heaven 
 knows it is not my nature to hold any one in bondage, and 
 I shall gladly hail the day which sees the negro free. But 
 I cannot now help myself more than others around me. 
 Our slaves are our property. Take them from us and we 
 are ruined wholly. Miss Johnson, do you honestly believe 
 that one in forty of those northern abolitionists would de 
 liberately give up ten twenty fifty thousand dollars 
 as the case might be, just because the thing valued at that 
 was man and not beast ? No, indeed. It's very easy for 
 them to tell what must be done, but hard finding one to 
 do it. Southern people, born and brought up in the midst 
 of slavery can't see it as the North do, and there's where 
 the mischief lies. Neither understands the other, and I 
 greatly fear the day is not far distant when our fair Union 
 shall be torn in tatters by enraged and furious brothers." 
 
 He had wandered from Lulu and Muggins to the sub 
 ject which then, far more than the North believed, was 
 agitating the Southern mind, but Alice, more interested 
 in her purchases than in Secession, of which she had no 
 fears, brought him back to the point, by suggesting that 
 the necessary papers be made out at once, so there could 
 be no mistake. 
 
 They had ridden far enough by this time, for Hugh was 
 beginning to look tired, and so they turned their horses 
 homeward, talking pleasantly of whatever presented itself 
 to Alice's mind. Once as Hugh gave her a look which 
 had often puzzled and mystified her, she said, " Do you 
 
HUGH AND ALICE. 221 
 
 know it seems to me I must have seen you before I came 
 to Kentucky, for at times there is something very familiar 
 in your face." 
 
 For a moment Hugh was tempted to tell her where 
 they had met before, but feeling that he was not quite 
 ready yet to do so, he refrained, and making her some 
 evasive reply, relapsed into a thoughtful mood which con 
 tinued until Spring Bank was reached. 
 
 CHAPTER XXY. 
 
 HUGH AND ALICE. 
 
 Three weeks had passed away since that memorable 
 ride. Mr. Listen after paying to the proper recipients the 
 money due for Mosside, had returned to Boston, leaving 
 the neighborhood to gossip of Alice's generosity, and to 
 wonder how much she was worth. It was a secret yet 
 that Lulu and Muggins were hers, but the story of Rock 
 et was known, and numerous were the surmises as to what 
 would be the result of her familiar intercourse with Hugh. 
 Already was the effect of her presence visible in his gen 
 tleness of manner, his care to observe all the little points 
 of etiquette never practiced by him before, and his atten 
 tion to his own personal appearance. His trousers were no 
 longer worn inside his boots, or his soft hat jammed into 
 every conceivable shape, while Ellen Tiffton, who came 
 often to Spring Bank, and was supposed to be good author 
 ity, pronounced him almost as stylish looking as any man 
 in Woodford. 
 
 It is strange how much dress and a little care as to its 
 adjustment can do for one. It certainly did wonders for 
 Hugh, who knew how much he was improved, and to whose 
 influence he owed it, just as he knew of the mighty love 
 
222 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 he bore this gentle girl, working so great a good at Spring 
 Bank. 
 
 To Hugh, Alice was every thing, and sometimes the 
 thought crossed his mind that possibly he might win her 
 for himself, but it was repudiated as soon as formed, for it 
 could not be, he said, that one like Alice Johnson should 
 ever care for him ; and so, between hope and a kind of 
 blissful despair, Hugh lived on until the evening of the day 
 when Adah left Spring Bank for Terrace Hill. She had 
 intended going immediately after the sale at Mosside, but 
 Willie had been ailing ever since, and that had detained 
 her. But now she was really gone; Hugh had accompani 
 ed her to Frankfort, seeing her safely off, and spending the 
 entire day in town, so that it was rather late when he re 
 turned to Spring Bank. Being unusually fatigued Mrs* 
 Worthington had already retired and as Alice was not in 
 sight, Hugh sat down alone by the parlor fire. 
 
 . He was sorry Adah was gone and he missed her sadly, 
 but it was not so much of her he was thinking as of Al 
 ice. During the last few days she had puzzled him great 
 ly. Her manner had been unusually kind, her voice un 
 usually soft and low when she addressed him, while sev 
 eral times he had met her eyes fixed upon him with an 
 expression he could not fathom, and which had made his 
 heart beat high as hope whispered of what might perhaps 
 be, in spite 'of all his fears. Poor Hugh ! he never dream 
 ed that Alice's real feelings towards him during those 
 few days were those of pity, as she saw how silent and 
 moody he grew, and attributed it to his grief at parting 
 with Adah. She was of course very dear to him, she 
 supposed, and Alice's kind heart went out toward him 
 with a strong desire to comfort him, to tell him how she, 
 as far as possible, would fill Adah's place. Had she dream 
 ed of his real feelings, she never would have done what 
 she did, but she was wholly unconscious of it, and so 
 when, late that night, she returned to the parlor in quest 
 
HUGH AND ALICE. 223 
 
 of something she had left, and found him sitting there 
 alone, she paused a moment on the threshold, wondering 
 if she had better join him or go away. His back was to 
 ward her, and he did not hear her light step, so intently 
 was he gazing into the burning grate, and trying to frame 
 the words he should say if ever he dared tell Alice John 
 son of his love. 
 
 There was much girlish playfulness in Alice's nature? 
 and gliding across the carpet, she clasped both her hands 
 before his eyes, and exclaimed 
 
 " A penny for your thoughts." 
 
 Hugh started as suddenly as if some apparition had 
 appeared before him, and blushing guiltily, clasped and 
 held upon his face the little soft, warm hands which did 
 not tremble, but lay still beneath his own. It was Prov 
 idence which sent her there, he thought ; Providence in 
 dicating that he might speak, and he would. 
 
 " I am glad you have come. I wish to talk with you," 
 he said, drawing her down into a chair beside him, and 
 placing his arm lightly across its back. " What sent you 
 here, Alice ? I supposed you had retired," he continued, 
 bending upon her a look which made her slightly uncom 
 fortable. 
 
 But she soon recovered, and answered laughingly 
 
 " I came for my scissors, and finding you here alone, 
 thought I would startle you, but you have not told me 
 yet of what you were thinking." 
 
 "Of the present, past and future," he replied; then, 
 letting his hand drop from the back of the chair upon 
 her shoulder, he continued, " May I talk freely with you ? 
 May I tell you of myself, what I was, what I am, what I 
 hope to be ? " 
 
 His hand upon her shoulder made Alice a little uneasy ; 
 but he had put it there in such a quiet, matter of course 
 way, that he might think her prudish if she objected. 
 Still her cheeks burned, and her voice was not quite 
 steady, as, rising from her seat, she said, 
 
224 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 "I like a stool better than this chair. Til bring it and 
 sit at your feet. There, now I am ready ; " and seating 
 herself at a safe distance from him, Alice waited for him 
 to commence. 
 
 But Hugh was in no hurry then ; that little act of 
 hers had chilled him somewhat. Perhaps she did not 
 like his arm around her, perhaps she never would, 
 and that was the saddest thought of all. She had never 
 looked! to him as she did to-night, sitting there beside 
 him with the firelight falling upon her bright fair hair, 
 curling so gracefully about her forehead and neck. 
 
 On the high mantel a large mirror was standing, and 
 glancing towards it, Hugh caught the reflection of both 
 their figures, and with his usual depreciation of himself 
 felt the contrast bitterly. This beautiful young girl 
 could not care for him ; it were folly to think of it, and 
 he sat for a moment silent, forgetting that Alice was 
 waiting for him to speak. She grew tired of waiting at 
 last, and turning her eyes upon him, said gently, 
 
 "You seem unhappy about something. Is it because 
 Adah has gone ? I am sorry, too ; but, Hugh, 1 will do 
 what I can to fill her place. I will be the sister you 
 need so much. Don't look so wretched ; it makes me feel 
 badly to see you." 
 
 Alice's sympathy was getting the better of her again, 
 and she moved her stool nearer to Hugh, while she invol 
 untarily laid her hand upon his knee. That decided 
 him ; and while his heart throbbed almost to bursting, he 
 began by saying, 
 
 " I am in rather a gloomy mood to-night, I'll admit. I 
 do feel Adah's leaving us very much ; but that is not all. 
 1 have wished to talk with you a long time wished to 
 tell you how I feel. May I, Alice ? may I open to you 
 my whole heart, and show you what is there ? " 
 
 For a moment Alice felt a thrill of fear a dread of 
 what the opening of his heart to her might disclose. 
 
HUGH AND ALICE. 225 
 
 Then she remembered Golden Hair, whose name she had 
 never heard him breathe, save as it passed his delirious 
 lips. It was of her he would talk ; he would tell trer of 
 that hidden love whose existence she felt sure was not 
 known at Spring Bank. Alice would rather not have 
 had this confidence, for the deep love-life of such as 
 Hugh Worthington seemed to her a sacred thing; but he 
 looked so white, so care-worn, so much as if it would be 
 a relief, that Alice answered at last : 
 
 " Yes, Hugh, you may tell, and I will listen." 
 
 She moved her stool still nearer to him, beginning now 
 to feel anxious herself to hear of one whose very memo 
 ry had influenced Hugh for good. 
 
 So sure was Alice that it was Golden Hair of whom he 
 would talk, that when, by way of a commencement, he 
 said to her, " Can you guess what I would tell you ?" she 
 answered involuntarily : 
 
 " I guess it is of somebody you have loved, or do love 
 still." 
 
 There was no tremor in her voice, no flush in her cheek, 
 no drooping of the long lashes to cover her confusion ; 
 and yet deluded Hugh believed she knew his secret, and 
 alas! believed his love reciprocated; else why should she 
 thus encourage him to go on ! It was the happiest mo 
 ment Hugh had ever known, and for a time he could not 
 speak, as he thought how strange it was that a joy so 
 perfect as this should come to be his lot. Poor, poor 
 Hugh ! 
 
 He began at last by telling Alice of his early boyhood, 
 uncheered by a single word of sympathy save as it came 
 from dear Aunt Eunice, who alone understood the way 
 ward boy whom people thought so bad. 
 
 " Then mother ' and Ad. cajjae to Spring Bank, and 
 that opened to me a new era. In my odd way, I loved 
 my mother so much but Ad. say, Alice, is it wicked 
 in me if I can't love Ad. ? " 
 
226 HUGH WOBTHLNGTON. 
 
 " She is your sister," was Alice's reply; and Hugh re 
 joined: 
 
 " Yes my sister. I'm sorry for it, even if it's wicked 
 to be sorry. I tried to do my best with her tried to be 
 as gentle as, I could; but she did not understand me. 
 She gave me back only scorn and bitter words, until my 
 heart closed up against her, and I harshly judged all oth 
 ers by her all but one ; and Hugh's voice grew very 
 low and tender in its tone, while Alice felt that now he 
 was nearing the Golden Hair. 
 
 " Away off in New England there was a pure white 
 blossom growing, a blossom so pure, so fair, that very 
 few were worthy even so much as to look upon it, as 
 day by day it unfolded some new beauty. There was 
 nothing to support this flower but a single parent stalk, 
 which snapped asunder one day, and Blossom was left 
 alone. It was a strange idea, transplanting it to another 
 soil ; for the atmosphere of Spring Bank was not suited 
 to such as she. But she came, and, as by magic, the 
 whole atmosphere was changed changed at least to one 
 the bad, wayward Hugh, who dared to love this fair 
 young girl with a love stronger than his life. For her he 
 would do anything, and beneath her influence he did im 
 prove rapidly. He was conscious of it himself conscious 
 of a greater degree of self-respect a desire to J)e what 
 she would like to have him. 
 
 " She was very, very beautiful ; more so than anything 
 Hugh had ever looked upon. Her face was like an angel's 
 face, and her hair much like yours, Alice ; " and he laid 
 his hand on the bright head, now bent down, so that he 
 could not see that face so like an angel's. 
 
 The little hand, too, had slidden from his knee, and, 
 fast-locked within the otlier, was buried in Alice's lap, as 
 she listened with throbbing heart to the story Hugh was 
 telling. 
 
 " In all the world there was nothing so dear to Hugh as 
 
HUGH AND ALICE. 227 
 
 this young girl. He thought of her by day and dreamed 
 of her by night, seeing always in the darkness her face, 
 with its eyes of blue bending over him hearing the mu 
 sic of her voice, like the falling of distant water, and even 
 feeling the soft touch of her hands as he fancied them 
 laid upon his brow. She was good, too, as beautiful ; and 
 it was this very goodness which won on Hugh so fast, 
 making him pray often that he might be worthy of her 
 for, Alice, he came at last to dream that he could win 
 her ; she was so kind to him she spoke to him so softly, 
 and, by a thousand little acts, endeared herself to him 
 more and more. 
 
 " Heaven forgive her if she misled him all this while ; 
 but she did not. It were worse than death to think she 
 did to know I've told her this in vain have offered her 
 my heart only to have it thrust back upon me as some 
 thing she does- not want. Speak, Alice ! in mercy, speak ! 
 Can it be that I'm mistaken ? " 
 
 Something in her manner had wrung out this cry of fear, 
 and now, bending over her as she sat with her face buried 
 in her lap he waited for her answer. It had come like a 
 thunderbolt to Alice, that she, and not Golden Hair, was 
 the subject of his story she the fair blossom growing 
 among the New England hills. She did not guess that 
 they were one and the same, for Hugh would not have 
 her swayed ever so slightly by gratitude. 
 
 Alice saw how she had led him on, and her white lips 
 quivered with pain, for, alas ! she did nfct love him as he 
 should be loved, and she could not deceive him, though 
 every fibre of her heart bled and ached for him. Lifting 
 up her head at last she exclaimed, 
 
 " You don't mean me, Hugh ? Oh, you don't mean 
 me?" 
 
 " Yes, darling," and he clasped in his own the hand 
 raised imploringly toward him. " Yes, darling, I mean 
 you. I love you and you must be mine. I shall die with- 
 
228 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 out you. Tou can mould me at your will. You can 
 teach me the narrow way I want to find, Alice, more 
 than you guess. We will walk it hand in hand, yours 
 the stronger one at first, mine the stronger last, when 
 I've been taught by you. Will you, Alice, will you be 
 my wife, my darling, my idol ? I know I have no 
 money, just as I know you do not care for that. You 
 will not prize me less for daring to ask you, an heiress, to 
 be mine. I have no money, no position, but I have will 
 ing hands and a loving heart, which will answer in their 
 stead. Will you be my wife ? " 
 
 Alice had never before heard a voice so earnest, so full 
 of meaning, as the one now pleading with her to be what 
 she could not be, and a pang keener than any she had 
 ever felt, or believed it possible for her to feel, shot 
 through her heart as the dread conviction was forced 
 upon her that she was to blame for all this. She had 
 misled hirn, unwittingly, ,it is true, but that did not help 
 him now ; the harm, the wrong were just the same, and 
 they loomed up before her in all their appalling magni 
 tude. What could she do to atone? Alas ! there was 
 nothing except to be what he asked, and that she could not 
 do. She could not be Hugh's wife. She would as soon 
 have married her brother, if she had one. But she must 
 do something, and sliding from her stool she sank upon 
 her knees her proper attitude upon her knees before 
 Hugh, whom she had wronged so terribly, and burying 
 her face in Hugh* own hands, she sobbed, 
 
 " Oh, Hugh, Hugh, you don't know what you ask. I 
 love you dearly, but only as my brother believe me, 
 Hugh, only as a brother. I wanted one so much one 
 of my own, I mean ; but God denied that wish, and gave 
 me you instead. I did not like you at first that is, be 
 fore I saw you. I was sorry you were here, but I got 
 over that, I pitied first, and then I came to like or love 
 you so much, but only as my brother ; and if I let you 
 
HUGH AND ALICE. 229 
 
 see that love, it was because it is my nature to caress 
 those whom I love because I thought you understood 
 that 'twas only as my brother. I cannot be your wife. 
 I oh, Hugh, forgive me for making you so unhappy. 
 I'm sorry I ever came here, but I cannot go away. I've 
 learned to love my Kentucky home. Let me stay just 
 the same. Let me really be what I thought I was, your 
 sister. You will not send me away ? " 
 
 She looked up at him now, but quickly turned away, 
 for the expression of his white, haggard face was more 
 than she could bear, and she knew there was a pain, 
 keener than any she had felt, a pang which must be terri 
 ble, to crush a strong man as Hugh was crushed. 
 
 "Forgive me, Hugh," she said, as he did not speak, but 
 sat gazing at her in a kind of stunned bewilderment. 
 " You would not have me for your wife, if I did not love 
 you?" 
 
 " Never, Alice, never ! " he answered ; " but it is not any 
 easier to bear. I don't know why I asked you, why I 
 dared hope that you could think of me. I might have 
 known you could not. Nobody does. I cannot win their 
 love. I don't know how." 
 
 He put her gently from him, and arose to leave the room, 
 but something mastered his will, and brought him back 
 again to where she knelt, her face upon his chair, as she 
 silently prayed to know just what was right. Something 
 she had said about his sending her away rang in his ears, 
 and he felt that the knowing she was gone would be the 
 bitterest dreg in all the bitter cup, so he said to her, en- 
 treatingly 
 
 " Alice, I know you cannot be my wife I do not ex 
 pect it now, but I want you here all the same. Promise 
 that you will stay, at least until my rival claims you." 
 
 Alice neither looked up nor moved, only sobbed pite- 
 ously, and this more than aught else helped Hugh to 
 choke down his own sorrow for the sake of comforting 
 
230 HUGH WOBTHINGTON. 
 
 her. The sight of her distress moved him greatly, for he 
 knew it was grief that she had so cruelly misled him. 
 
 " Alice, darling," he said again, this time as a mother 
 would soothe her child. " It hurts me more to see you 
 thus- than your refusal did. I am not wholly selfish in 
 my love. I'd rather you should be happy than to be hap 
 py myself. I would not for the world take to my bosom 
 an unwilling wife. I should be jealous even of my own 
 caresses, jealous lest the very act disgusted her more and 
 more. You did not mean to deceive me. It was I that 
 deceived myself. I forgive you fully, and ask you to for 
 get that to-night has ever been. It cut me sorely at first ? 
 Alice, to hear you tell me so, but I shall get over it ; the 
 wound will heal." 
 
 He said this falteringly, for the wound bled and throb 
 bed at every pore, but he would comfort her. She should 
 not know how much he suifered. " The wound will heal. 
 Even now I am feeling better, can almost see my way 
 through the darkness." 
 
 Poor Hugh ! He mentally asked forgiveness for that 
 falsehood told for her. He could not see his way through, 
 his brain was giddy, and his soul sick with that dull 
 dreadful pain which is so hard to be borne, but he could 
 hide his misery, for her sake, and he would. 
 
 " Please, don't cry," he said, stooping over her, and 
 lifting her tenderly up. " I shall get over it. A man can 
 bear better than a woman, and even if I should not, I 
 would rather have loved and lost you, than not to have 
 known and loved you at all. The memory of what might 
 have been will keep me from much sin. There, darling, 
 let me wipe the tears away, let me hear you say you are 
 better." 
 
 "Oh, Hugh, don't, you break my heart. I'd rather 
 you should scorn or even hate me for the sorrow I have 
 brought. Such unselfish kindness will kill me," Alice 
 
HUGH AND ALICE. 231 
 
 sobbed, for never had she been so touched as by this in 
 sight into the real character of the man she had refused. 
 
 He would not hold her long in his arms, though it were 
 bliss to do so, and putting her gently in the chair, he lean 
 ed his own poor sick head upon the mantel, while Alice 
 watched him with streaming eyes and an aching heart, 
 which even then half longed to give itself into his keep 
 ing. She did not love him with a wife-like love, she knew 
 but she might in time, and she pitied him so much. And 
 Hugh had need for pity. He had tried to quiet her ; had 
 said it was no matter, that he should get over it, that he 
 need not care, -but the agony it cost him to say all this 
 was visible in every feature, and Alice looked at him with 
 wondering awe as he stood there silently battling with 
 the blow he would not permit to smite him down. 
 
 At last it was Alice's turn to speak, hers the task to 
 comfort. The prayer she had inwardly breathed for gui 
 dance to act aright had not been unheard, and with a 
 strange calmness she arose, and laying her hand on Hugh's 
 arm, bade him be seated, while she told him what she had 
 to say. He obeyed her, sinking into the offered chair, 
 and then standing before him, she began, 
 
 " You do not wish me to go away, you say. I have no 
 desire to go, except it should be better for you. Even 
 though I may not be your wife, I can, perhaps, minister to 
 your happiness ; and, Hugh, we will forget to-night, and 
 be to each other what we were before, brother and sister. 
 There must be no particular perceptible change of man 
 ner, lest others should suspect what has passed between 
 us. Do you agree to this ? " 
 
 He bowed his head, and Alice drew a step nearer to 
 him, hesitating a moment ere she continued. 
 
 " You speak of a rival. But believe me, Hugh, you 
 have none, there is not a man in the wide world whom I 
 
 like as much as I do you, and Hugh " the little hand 
 
 pressed more closely on Hugh's shoulder, while Alice's 
 
232 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 breath came heavily, " And, Hugh, it may be, that in time 
 I can conscientiously give you a different answer from 
 what I did to-night. I may love you as your wife should 
 love you ; and and, if I do, I'll tell you so at the prop 
 er time." 
 
 There was a gleam of sunshine now to illumine the 
 thick darkness, and, in the first moments of his joy Hugh 
 wound his arm around the slight form, and tried to bring 
 it nearer to him. But Alice stepped back and answered, 
 
 " No, Hugh, that would be wrong. It may be I shall 
 never come to love you save as I love you now, but I'll 
 try I will try," and unmindful of her- charge to him 
 Alice parted the damp curls clustering around his fore 
 head, and looked into his face with an expression which 
 made his heart bound and throb with the sudden hope, 
 that even now she loved him better than she supposed. 
 
 It was growing very late, and the clock in the adjoin 
 ing room struck one ere Alice bade Hugh good night, say 
 ing to him, 
 
 " No one must know of this. "We'll be just the same 
 to each other as we have been." 
 
 "Yes, just the same, if that can be," Hugh answered, 
 and so they parted, Alice to her room, where, in the soli 
 tude, she could pray for that guidance without which she 
 was nothing, and Hugh to his, where he, too, prayed, this 
 night with a greater earnestness than ever he had done 
 before not for Golden Hair to come back, as of old, 
 but that he might be led into the path she trod, and so 
 be worthy of her, should the glad time ever come when 
 she might be his. 
 
 Hugh had not yet learned the faith which asks for 
 good, that God shall be glorified rather than our own de 
 sires fulfilled ; but he who prays, ever so imperfectly, is 
 better for it, because the very act of praying implies a 
 faith in somebody to hear ; and so soothed into compara 
 tive quiet by the petition offered, Hugh fell into a quiet 
 
233 
 
 slumber, and slept on undisturbed until Muggins came to 
 wake him. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 The night express from Rochester to Albany was crowd 
 ed. Every car was full, and the clamorous bell rang out 
 its first summons for all to get on board, just as a 
 frightened-looking woman, bearing in her arms a sleeping 
 boy, stepped upon the platform of the rear carriage, and 
 looked wistfully in at the long, dark line of passengers fill 
 ing every seat. Wearily, anxiously, she had passed 
 through every car, beginning at the first, her tired eyes 
 scanning each occupant, as if mutely begging some one 
 to have pity on her ere exhausted nature failed entirely, 
 and she sank fainting to the floor. None had heeded 
 that silent appeal, though many had marked the pallor 
 of her girlish face, and the extreme beauty of the baby 
 features nestling in her bosom. She could not hold out 
 much longer, and when she reached the last car and saw 
 that too was full, the chin quivered, and a tear glistened 
 in the long eyelashes, sweeping the colorless cheek. 
 
 Slowly she passed up the aisle until she came to where 
 there was a vacant seat, only a gentleman's shawl was 
 piled upon it, and the gentleman looking so unconcernedly 
 from the window, and apparently oblivious of her close 
 proximity to him, would not surely object to her sitting 
 there. How the tired woman did wish he would turn to 
 ward her and give some token that she was welcome. But 
 no, his eyes were only intent on the darkness without ; he 
 had no care for her, though he knew she was there. He 
 had seen the shrinking figure with its sleeping burden, as 
 
234 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 it came in, and the selfishness which was so much a part 
 of his whole being, prompted him to cover the seat as far 
 as possible with his long limbs, while leaning his elbow 
 upon the window stool, he seemed absorbed in something 
 outside, peering into the foggy darkness, for it was a 
 rainy winter's night, as persistently as if there w.ere stand 
 ing before him no half-fainting form, ready to sink down 
 at his feet. 
 
 The oil lamp was burning dimly, and the girl's white 
 face was lost in the shadow, when the young man first 
 glanced at her, so he had no suspicion of the truth, 
 though a most undefinable sensation crept over him when 
 he heard the timid footfall, and the rustling of female gar 
 ments as Adah Hastings drew near with her boy in her 
 arms. 
 
 He heard its faint breathings, and half turned his head 
 just as Adah passed on, her weary sigh falling distinctly 
 on his ear, but failing to awaken a feeling of remorse for 
 his unmanly conduct. 
 
 " I'm glad she's gone. I can't be bothered," was his 
 mental comment as he settled himself more comfortably, 
 feeling a glow of satisfaction when the train began to 
 move, and he knew no more women with their babies 
 would be likely to trouble him. 
 
 With that first heavy strain of the machinery Adah 
 lost her balance, and would have fallen headlong but for 
 the friendly hand put forth to save the fall. 
 
 " Take my seat, miss. It is not very convenient, but 
 it is better than none. I can find another." 
 
 It was the friendliest voice imaginable which said these 
 words to Adah, and the kind tone in which they were 
 uttered wrung the hot tears from her eyes. She did not 
 look up at him. She only knew that a gentleman had 
 risen and was bending over her ; that a hand, was laid 
 upon her shoulder, putting her gently into the narrow 
 seat next the saloon ; that the same hand took from her 
 
ADAH'S JOURNEY. 235 
 
 and hung above her head the little satchel which was so 
 much in her way, and that the manly voice, so sympa 
 thetic in its tone, asked if she would be too warm, so 
 near the fire. 
 
 She did not know there was a fire. She only knew 
 that she had found a friend, and with the delicious feel 
 ing of safety which the knowledge brought, the tension 
 of her nerves gave way, and burying her head on Wil 
 lie's face she wept for a moment silently. Then lifting it 
 up she tried to thank her benefactor, looking now at him 
 for the first time, and feeling half overawed to find him 
 so tall, so stylish, so exceedingly refined in every look and 
 action. Why had he cared for her ? What was there 
 about her to win attention from such as he ? Nothing ; 
 his kindness was natural ; it sprang from the great warm 
 heart, shining out from the eyes, seen beneath the glasses 
 which he wore ! 
 
 Irving Stanley was a passenger on that train, bound 
 for Albany. Like Dr. Richards, he had hoped to enjoy a 
 whole seat, even though it were not a very comfortable 
 one, but he would not resort to meanness for the sake of 
 his own ease ; so when he saw how pale and tired Adah 
 was, he rose at once to offer his seat. He did not then 
 observe her face, or dress, or manner. He only saw she 
 was a delicate woman, travelling alone, and that was 
 enough to elicit his attention. He heard her sweet, low 
 voice as she tried to thank him, and felt intuitively that 
 she was neither coarse nor vulgar. He saw, too, the 
 little, soft, white hands, holding so fast to Willie. Was 
 he her brother or her son ? She was young to be his 
 mother ; but, there was no mistaking the mother-love 
 shining out from the brown eyes turned so quickly upon 
 the boy when he moaned, as if in pain, and seemed about 
 to waken. 
 
 " He's been sick most all the way," she said, holding 
 him closer to her bosom. " There's something the mat- 
 
236 HUGH WOBTHINGTON. 
 
 ter witn his ear. Do children ever die with the ear 
 ache ? " and the eyes, swimming in tears, sought the face 
 of Irving Stanley as eagerly as if on his decision hung 
 little Willie's life. 
 
 Irving Stanley hardly thought they did. At all events 
 he never heard of such a case, and then, after suggesting 
 a remedy, should the pain return, he left his new acquain 
 tance and walked down the car in quest of another seat. 
 
 " A part of your seat, sir, if you please," and Irving's 
 voice was rather authoritative than otherwise, as he 
 claimed the half of what the doctor was monopolizing. 
 
 It was of no use for Dr. Richards to pretend he was 
 asleep, for Irviifg spoke so quietly, so like a man who 
 knew what he was doing, that the doctor was compelled 
 to yield, and turning about, recognized his Saratoga ac 
 quaintance. The recognition was mutual, and after a 
 few natural remarks, Irving explained how he had given 
 his seat to a lady whose little child, was suffering from 
 the ear-ache. 
 
 " By the way, doctor," he added, " you ought to know 
 the remedy for such ailments. Suppose you prescribe in 
 case it returns. 
 
 " I know but little about babies or their aches" the Dr. 
 answered, just as a scream of pain reached his ear, accom 
 panied by a suppressed effort on the mother's part to 
 soothe her suffering child. 
 
 Irving Stanley felt the sneer implied in the doctor's 
 words, and it kept him silent for a time, while scream 
 after scream filled the car, and roused every sleeping occu 
 pant to ask what was the matter. Some, and among them 
 the doctor, cursed the child thus disturbing their slum 
 bers ; some wished it anything but complimentary wish 
 es ; some felt and evinced real sympathy, while nearly all 
 glanced backward at the dark corner where the poor 
 mother sat bending over her infant, unmindful of the 
 
237 
 
 many curious looks cast upon her. The pain must have 
 been intolerable, for the little fellow, in his agony, writhed 
 from Adah's lap and sank upon the floor, his whole form 
 quivering with anguish as he cried, " Oh, ma ! ma ! ma ! 
 ma!" 
 
 The hardest heart could scarce withstand that scene, 
 and many now gathered near, offering advice and help, 
 while even Dr. Richards experienced a most- unaccounta 
 ble sensation as that baby cry smote on his ear. Foremost 
 among those who offered aid was Irving Stanley. His 
 was the voice which breathed comfort to the weeping 
 Adah, his the hand extended to take up little Willie, his 
 the arms which held and soothed the struggling boy, his 
 the mind which thought of everything available that could 
 possibly bring ease, until at last the outcries ceased and 
 Willie lay quietly in his arms. 
 
 " I'll take him now," and Adah put out her hands ; but 
 Willie refused to go, and clung closer to Mr. Stanley, who 
 said, laughingly, " You see that I am preferred. He is 
 too heavy for you to hold. Please trust him to me, 
 awhile." 
 
 And Adah yielded to that voice, and leaning against 
 the window, rested her tired head upon her hand, w T hile 
 Irving carried Willie to his seat beside the doctor. 
 There was a slight sneer on the doctor's face as he saw tho 
 little boy, but Irving Stanley he knew was not one whose 
 acts could be questioned by him ; so he contented himself 
 with saying, " You must be fond of young ones." 
 
 " Fond of children," Irving replied, laying great stress 
 on the word children. " Yes, I am, very ; and even if I 
 were not, pity would prompt me to take this one from his 
 mother, who is so tired, besides being very pretty, and 
 that you knows goes far with us men." 
 
 " You don't like children, I reckon," Irving continued, 
 as the doctor drew back from the little feet which uncon 
 sciously touched his lap. 
 
238 HUGH WOBTHINGTON. 
 
 " No, I hate them," was the answer, spoken half sav 
 agely, for at that moment a tiny hand was deliberately 
 laid on his, as Willie showed a disposition to be friendly. 
 " I hate them," and the little hand was pushed rudely off. 
 
 Wonderingly the soft, large eyes of the child looked up 
 to his. Something in their expression riveted the doctor's 
 gaze as by a spell. There were tears in the baby's eyes, 
 and the pretty lip began to quiver. The doetor's finer 
 feelings, if he had any, were touched, and muttering to 
 himself, " I'm a brute," he slouched his riding cap still 
 lower down upon his forehead, and turning away to the 
 window, relapsed into a gloomy reverie, in which thoughts 
 of Lily were strangely mingled with thoughts of the 
 dark-haired 'Lina, his bride elect, waiting for him in New 
 York. The Dr. was more than half tired of his engage 
 ment, and ere returning to the city, he was going to Ter 
 race Hill to have a long talk with Anna, to tell her frank 
 ly of his fears that 'Lina never could be congenial to them, 
 and perhaps he would tell her the ichole of Lily's story. 
 
 But how should he commence a tale which would 
 shock his gentle sister so terribly ? He did not know, 
 and while devising the best method, he forgot the two 
 little feet which in their bright-colored hose were 
 stretched out until they rested entirely upon his lap, 
 while the tiny face was nestled against Irving Stanley's 
 fatherly bosom, where it lay for hours, until Adah, wak 
 ing from her refreshing slumber, came forward to relieve 
 him. 
 
 "You had better not go on this morning. You ought 
 to rest," Irving said to Adah, when at last the train 
 stopped in Albany. " I have a few moments to spare. 
 I will see that you are comfortable. You are going to 
 Snowdon, I think you said," and taking Willie in his 
 arms he conducted Adah to the nearest hotel. 
 
 There were but a few moments ere he must leave, and 
 standing by her side, he said, 
 
239 
 
 " The meeting with you has been to me a pleasant in 
 cident, and I shall not soon forget it. I trust we may 
 meet again. There is my card, and he placed it in her 
 hand. 
 
 At a glance Adah read the name, knowing now who 
 had befriended her. It was Irving Stanley, second cous 
 in to Hugh, and 'Lin a was with his sister in New York. 
 He was going there, he might speak of her, and if she 
 told her name, her miserable story would be known to 
 more than it was already. It was a false pride which 
 kept Adah silent when she knew -that Irving Stanley 
 was waiting for her to speak, and while she was strug 
 gling to overcome it, Irving's time expired and he must 
 go if he would not be left. Taking her hand he said 
 good bye, while she tried again to thank him for his great 
 kindness to her ; but she did not tell her name, and as 
 Irving would not ask it, he left her without the knowl 
 edge, thinking of her often as he went his way to New 
 York, and wondering if they would ever meet again. 
 ****** 
 
 In the office below, Dr. Richards, who had purposely 
 stopped for the day in Albany, smoked his expensive 
 cigars, ordered oysters and wine sent to his room wrote 
 an explanatory note to 'Lina feeling half tempted to 
 leave out the "Dear," with which he felt constrained to 
 preface it thought again of Lily thought once of the 
 strange woman and the little boy, in whom Irving Stan 
 ley had been so interested, wondered where they were 
 going, and who it w*as the boy looked a little like 
 thought of Anna in connection with that boy ; and then, 
 late in the afternoon, sauntered down to the Boston depot, 
 and took his seat in the car which, at about 10 o'clock 
 that night, would deposit him at Snowdon. There were 
 no children to disturb him, for Adah, unconscious of his 
 proximity, was in the rear car weary, and nervous with 
 the dread which her near approach to Terrace Hill inspir- 
 
240 HUGH TVORTHINGTON. 
 
 ed. What if, after all, Anna should not want her ? And 
 this was a possible contingency, notwithstanding Alice 
 had been so sanguine. 
 
 " I can find employment somewhere God will direct 
 me," she whispered softly, drawing her veil over her tired 
 face, and thinking, she scarcely knew why, of Irving 
 Stanley. 
 
 Darkly the December night closed in, and still the train 
 kept on, until at last Danville was reached, and she must 
 alight, as the express did not stop again until it reached 
 Worcester. With a chill sense of loneliness, and a vague, 
 confused wish for the one cheering voice which had greet 
 ed her ear since leaving Spring Bank, Adah stood upon 
 the snow-covered platform, holding Willie in her arms, 
 and pointing out her trunk to the civil baggage man, who, 
 in answer to her inquiries as to the best means of reach 
 ing Terrace Hill, replied, " You can't go there to-night ; 
 it is too late. You'll have to stay in the tavern kept right 
 over the depot, though if you'd kept on the train there 
 might have been a chance, for I see the young Dr. Rich 
 ards aboard ; and as he didn't get out, I guess he's coax 
 ed or hired the conductor to leave him at Snowdon." 
 
 The baggage man was right in his conjecture, for the 
 doctor had persuaded the polite conductor, whom he knew 
 personally, to stop the train at Snowdon ; and while Adah, 
 shivering with cold, found her way up the narrow stairs 
 into the rather comfortless quarters where she must spend 
 the night, the doctor was kicking the snow from his feet 
 and talking to Jim, the coachman from Terrace Hill. 
 
ADAH AT TERRACE HILL. 241 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 ADAH AT TERRACE HILL. 
 
 The next morning was cold and frosty, as winter morn 
 ings in New England are wont to be, and Adah, shivered 
 involuntarily as from her uncurtained window she looked 
 out upon the bare woods and the frozen fields covered 
 with the snow of yesterday. Oh, how cold and dreary and 
 desolate everything seemed on that December morning; and 
 only Adah's trust in Him who she knew would not forsake 
 her kept her heart from fainting. Even this could not keep 
 back her tears as she watched the coming of the eastern 
 train, and wished that she could take it and go back to 
 Spring Bank. Wistfully she watched the train which 
 paused for a single moment and then sped on its way, just 
 as there came a knock at the door, and the baggage man 
 appeared. 
 
 " If you please, ma'am," he began, " the Terrace Hill 
 carriage is here brung over the doctor, who has took 
 ^he train for New York. I told the driver how't you 
 wanted to go there. Shall I give him your trunk ? " 
 
 Adah answered in the affirmative, and then hastened 
 to wrap up Willie. She was ready in a moment and 
 descended to the room where Jim, the driver, stood wait 
 ing for her, eyeing her sharply, as if making up his mind 
 with regard to her position. 
 
 " A lady," was his mental comment, and with as much 
 politeness as if she had been Madam Richards herself, he 
 opened the carriage door and held Willie while she en 
 tered, asking if she were comfortable, and peering a little 
 curiously in Willie's face, which puzzled him somewhat. 
 " A near connection, I guess, and mighty pretty, too. 
 11 
 
HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 I'm most sorry she's come visiting just now, when old 
 madam and the others is so cross. Them old maids will 
 raise hob with the boy nice little shaver," thought the 
 kind hearted Jim, as he hurried up his horses, looking back 
 occasionally, and smiling at Willie, who had forgotten the 
 ache of yesterday, and was crowing with delight as the 
 carriage moved swiftly on. 
 
 Once, as Adah caught his good-humored eye, she 
 ventured to say to him, 
 
 " Has Miss Anna procured a waiting-maid yet ? " 
 
 There was a comical gleam in Jim's eye now, for Adah 
 was not the first applicant he had taken up to Terrace 
 Hill, and it was the memory of madam's reception of them 
 which made him laugh. He never suspected that this was 
 Adah's business, she was so unlike the others, and he 
 answered frankly, 
 
 "No, that's about played out. They don't come as 
 thick as they did. Madam turned the last one out 
 doors." 
 
 "Turned her out doors ? " and Adah's face was as white 
 as the snow rifts they were passing. 
 
 The driver felt that he had gossiped too much, and 
 relasped into silence, while Adah, in a paroxysm of terror 
 sat with clasped hands and closed eyes, unmindful of 
 Willie's attempt to make her look at the huge building, 
 just in sight. In her dread of Mrs. Richards she scarcely 
 knew what she was doing, and leaning forward, at last she 
 said, huskily, 
 
 " Driver, driver, do you think she'll turn me off too ? " 
 
 " Turn you off! " and in his surprise at the sudden sus 
 picion which for the first time darted across his mind, Jim 
 brought his horses to a full stop, while he held a parley 
 with the pale, frightened creature, asking so eagerly if 
 Mrs. Richards would turn her off. " Why should she ? 
 You ain't going there for that, be you ? " 
 
 " Not to be turned out of doors, no," Adah answered ; 
 
ADAH AT TERRACE HILL. 243 
 
 " but I I I want that place so much. 1 read Miss 
 Anna's advertisement ; but please turn back, or let me 
 get out and walk. I can't go there now. Is Miss Anna 
 like the rest ? " 
 
 Jim had recovered himself a little, and though he could 
 not have been more astonished had Adah proved to be a 
 washerwoman, than he was to find her a waiting-maid, it 
 did not abate his respect for her one whit. She had been, 
 a lady sure, and as such he should treat her. She had al 
 so appealed to him for sympathy, and he would not with 
 hold it. 
 
 " Miss Anna's an angel," he answered. " If you get 
 her ear, you're all right ; the plague is to get it with them 
 two she cats ready to tear your eyes out. If I'se you, I'd 
 ask to see her. I wouldn't tell my arrent either, till I did. 
 She's sick up stairs ; but I'll see if Pamely can't manage 
 it. That's my . woman Pamely ; been mine for four 
 years, and we've had two pair of twins, all dead ; so I feel 
 tender towards the little ones," and Jim glanced at Wil 
 lie, who had succeeded in making Adah notice the house 
 standing out so prominently against the winter sky, and 
 looking to the poor girl more like a prison than a home. 
 
 Only one part of it seemed inviting the two crimson- 
 curtained windows opening upon a verandah, from 
 which a flight of steps led down into what must be a 
 flower-garden. 
 
 " Miss Anna's room," the driver said, pointing towards 
 it ; and Adah looked out, vainly hoping for a glimpse of 
 the sweet face she hadin her mind as Anna's. 
 
 But Anna was sick in bed with a headache, induced by 
 the excitement of her brother's visit and the harsh words 
 which passed between him and his sisters, he telling them, 
 jokingly at first, that he was tired of getting married, and 
 half resolved to give it up ; while they, in return, abused 
 him for fickleness, taunted him with their poverty, and 
 sharply reproached him for his unwillingness to lighten 
 their burden, by taking a rich wife when he could get one. 
 
244 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 All this John had repeated to Anna in the dim twilight 
 of the morning, as he stood by her bedside to bid her 
 good-bye ; and she, as usual, had soothed him into quiet, 
 speaking kindly of his bride-elect, and saying she should 
 like her. 
 
 He had not told her Lily's story, as he meant to do. 
 There was no necessity for that, for the matter was fixed. 
 Lina should be his wife, and he need not trouble Anna 
 further ; so he had bidden her adieu, and was gone again, 
 the carriage which bore him away bringing back Adah and 
 her boy. 
 
 Jim opened the wide door for her, and ushered her in 
 to a little reception-room, where the Misses Richards re 
 ceived their morning calls. Drawing a deep arm-chair to 
 the fire, Adah sat down before the cheerful blaze, and 
 looked around her with that strange feeling one experien 
 ces where everything is new. 
 
 Willie seemed perfectly at home, seating himself upon 
 a little stool, covered with some of Miss Eudora's choicest 
 worsted embroidery, a piece of work of which she was 
 very proud, never allowing anything to touch it lest the 
 roses should be jammed, or the raised leaves defaced. 
 But Willie cared neither for leaves nor roses, nor yet for 
 Miss Eudora, and drawing the stool to his mother's side, 
 he sat kicking his little heels into a worn place of the 
 carpet, which no child had kicked since the doctor's days 
 of babyhood. The tender threads were fast giving way 
 to the vigorous strokes," when two doors opposite each 
 other opened simultaneously, and both Mrs. Richards and 
 Eudora appeared. 
 
 They had heard from Jim that a stranger was there, 
 and as all the cross questionings concerning Adah elicited 
 only tHe assertion, that "she was a lady," both had 
 made a slight change in their toilet ere starting for the 
 room which they reached together, Mrs. Richards taking 
 in at once the fit and material of Adah's traveling dress, 
 
ADAH AT TEEEACE HILL. 245 
 
 deciding that the collar, unbuttoned and shoved back from 
 the throat, was real mink, as were the wristlets on which 
 a pair of small white hands were folded together. She 
 noticed, too, the tiny linen cuffs, with the neat gold but 
 tons which Alice had made Adah wear. Everything was 
 in keeping, and their visitor was a lady. This was her 
 decision, while Eudora noticed only Willie on the bouquet 
 which had cost her so much labor, and the alarming size 
 of that worn spot in the carpet where the little high 
 heeled slipper still was busy. Her first impulse was to 
 seize him by the arm and transfer him to some other lo 
 cality, but the beauty of his face diverted her attention, 
 and she involuntarily drew a step nearer to the child, fas 
 cinated by him, just as her mother was attracted towards 
 Adah. 
 
 " Are you ah, yes you are the lady who Jim said 
 wished to see me," the latter began, bowing politely to 
 Adah, who had not yet dared to look up, and who when 
 at last she did raise her eyes, withdrew them at once, 
 more abashed, more frightened, more bewildered than ev 
 er, for the face she saw fully warranted her ideas of a 
 woman who could turn a waiting-maid from her door just 
 because she was a waiting-maid. 
 
 Something seemed choking Adah and preventing her 
 utterance, for she did not speak until Mrs. Richards said 
 again, this time with a little less suavity and a little more 
 hauteur of manner, " Have I had the honor of meeting 
 you before ? " then with a low gasp, a mental petition 
 for help, Adah rose up and lifting to Mrs. Richards' cold, 
 haughty face, her soft, brown eyes, where tears were al 
 most visible, answered faintly, " We have not met before. 
 Excuse me, madam, but my business is with Miss Anna, 
 can I see her please ? " 
 
 There was something supplicating in the tone with 
 which Adah made this request, and it struck Mrs. Rich 
 ards unpleasantly, making her answer haughtily, " My 
 
246 HUGH WOETH1NGTON. 
 
 daughter is sick. She does not see visitors, but I will 
 take your name and your errand." 
 
 Too much confused to remember anything distinctly, 
 Adah forgot Jim's injunction ; forgot that Pamelia was to 
 arrange it somehow ; forgot everything, except that Mrs. 
 Richards was waiting for her to speak. An ominous 
 cough from Eudora decided her, and then her reason for 
 being there came out. She had seen Miss Anna's adver 
 tisement, she wanted a place, and she had come so far to 
 get it ; had left a happy home that she might not be 
 dependent but earn her bread for herself and her little 
 boy. Would they take her message to Anna ? Would 
 they let her stay ? and Adah's voice took a tone of wild 
 entreaty as she marked the lowering of madam's brow, 
 and the perceptible change in her manner when she as 
 certained that, according to her creed, not a lady but a 
 menial stood before her. 
 
 " You say you left a happy home," and the thin, sneering 
 lips of Eudora were pressed so tightly together that the 
 words could scarcely find egress. " May I ask, if it was so 
 happy, why you left it ? " 
 
 There was a flush on Adah's cheek as she replied, " Be 
 cause it was a home granted at first from charity. It was 
 not mine. The people were poor, and I would not longer 
 be a burden to them." 
 
 " And your husband where is he ? " 
 
 This was the hardest question of all, and Adah's distress 
 was visible as she replied. "Willie's -father left me, and I 
 don't know where he is." 
 
 An incredulous, provoking smile flitted over Eudora's 
 face as she returned, " We hardly care to have a deserted 
 wife in our family it might be unpleasant." 
 
 " Yes," and the old lady took up the argument, " Anna 
 is well enough without a maid. I don't know why she 
 put that foolish advertisement in the paper, in answer, I 
 
ADAH AT TEKKACE HILL. 247 
 
 believe, to one equally foolish which she saw about an 
 unfortunate woman with a child.' " 
 
 "I am that woman. I wrote that advertisement when 
 my heart was heavier than it is now, and God took care of 
 it. He pointed it out to Miss Anna. He caused her to 
 answer it. He sent me here, and you will let me see her. 
 Think if it were your own daughter, pleading thus with 
 some one." 
 
 " That is impossible. Neither my daughter, nor my 
 daughter-in-law, if I had one, could ever come to a ser 
 vant's position," Mrs. Richards replied, not harshly, for 
 there was something in Adah's manner which rode down 
 her resentful pride ; and she might have yielded, but for 
 Eudora, whose hands had so ached to shake the little child, 
 now innocently picking at a bud. 
 
 How she did long to box his ears, and while her mother 
 talked, she had taken a step forward more than once, but 
 stopped as often, held in check by the little face and soft 
 blue eyes turned so trustingly upon her, the pretty lips 
 once actually putting themselves toward her, as if expecting 
 a kiss. Eudora could not harm that child sitting on her 
 embroidery as coolly as if he had a right ; but she could 
 prevent her mother from granting the stranger's request ; 
 so when she saw signs of yielding, she said, decidedly, 
 " She cannot see Anna, mother. You know how foolish 
 she is, and there's no telling what fancy she might take." 
 
 " Eudora," said Mrs. Richards in a low tone, "It might 
 be well for Anna to have a maid, and this one is certainly 
 different from the others who have applied." 
 
 "But we can't be bothered with a child. It would 
 drive us crazy." 
 
 " Yes, certainly, I did not think of that. A child would 
 be very troublesome," Mrs. Richards rejoined. 
 
 " So madam, you see how impossible it is for us to keep 
 you, but you can of course stay till car-time, when Jim 
 will carry you back to the depot." 
 
248 HUGH WOBTHIXGTON. 
 
 She said this so decidedly that all hope died out of 
 Adah's heart and she felt as if she were going to faint with 
 the crushing disappointment. 
 
 Just then the door-bell rang. It was the doctor, come 
 to visit Anna, and both Mrs. Richards and Eudora left 
 the room. 
 
 " Oh, why did I come here, and where shall I go ? " 
 Adah moaned, as a sense of her lonely condition came 
 over her. 
 
 She knew she would be welcome in Kentucky, but Hugh 
 could not afford to have her back, and she had so counted 
 on helping him with her first wages. 
 
 "Will my Father in Heaven direct me ? will he tell me 
 what to do ? " she murmured brokenly, praying softly to 
 herself that a way might be opened for her, a path which 
 she could tread. She could not help herself. All her de 
 pendence now was in her God, and in trusting him she 
 found rest at last. 
 
 She could not tell how it was, but a quiet peace stole 
 over her, a feeling which had no thought or care for the 
 future, and it had been many nights since she had slept as 
 sweetly or soundly as she did for one half hour with her 
 head upon the table in that little room at Terrace Hill, 
 Dr. Richard's home and Anna's. She did not see the 
 good-humored face which looked in at her a moment, nor 
 hear the whispering in the hall ; neither did she know 
 when Willie was coaxed from the room and carried up 
 the stairs into the upper hall, where he was purposely left 
 to himself, while Pamelia went to Anna's room, where 
 she was to sit for an hour or so, while the ladies had their 
 lunch. Anna's head was better; the paroxysms of pain 
 were less frequent than in the morning, and she lay upon 
 her pillow, so nearly asleep that she did not hear that 
 unusual sound for Terrace Hill, the patter of little feet in 
 the hall without. Tired of staying by himself, and spy 
 ing the open door, Willie hastened toward it, pausing a 
 
ADAH AT TERRACE HILL. 249 
 
 moment on the threshold as if to reconnoiter. Something 
 in Anna's attitude, as she lay with her long fair hair falling 
 over the pillow, must have reminded him of Alice, for 
 with a cry of delight, he ran forward, and patting the 
 white cheek with his soft baby hand, lisped out the word 
 " Arn-tee, arn-tee," making Anna start suddenly and gaze 
 at him in wondering surprise. 
 
 " Who is he ? " she said, drawing him to her at once 
 and pressing a kiss upon his rosy face. 
 
 Pamelia told her what she knew of the stranger wait 
 ing in the reception room, adding in conclusion, " I believe 
 they said you did not want her, and Jim is to take her to 
 the depot w T hen it's time. She's very young and pretty, 
 and looks so sorry, Jim told ine." 
 
 " Said I did not want her ! How did they know ? " and 
 something of the Richards' spirit flashed from Anna's 
 eyes. " The child is so beautiful, and he called me, Auntie, 
 too ! He must have an auntie somewhere. Little dear ! 
 how she must love him ! Lift him up, Pamelia ! " 
 
 The woman obeyed, and Willie was soon nestled close 
 to Anna, who kissed him again, smoothed his curls, pinch 
 ed his cheek, squeezed his soft hands, and then asked 
 whom he so much resembled. 
 
 Pamelia could not tell. The likeness had puzzled her, 
 but she never thought of finding it in her young mistress, 
 face. 
 
 " I must see his mother," Anna said, as she continued 
 to caress and fondle him. Perhaps I should like her. At 
 all events I will hear what she has to say. Show her up, 
 Pamelia ; but first smooth my hair a little and arrange 
 iry pillows," she added, feeling intuitively that the stran 
 ger was not like the others who had come to her on simi 
 lar errands. 
 
 Pamelia complied with her request, brushing back the 
 long, loose locks, and making the bed more smooth and 
 tidy in its appearance ; then leaving Willie with Anna, 
 11* 
 
250 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 she repaired to the reception room, and rousing the sleep 
 ing Adah, said to her hurriedly, 
 
 " Please, miss, come quick ; Miss Anna wants to see 
 you. The little boy is up there with her." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 ANNA AND ADAH. 
 
 For a moment Anna was inclined to think that Pamelia 
 had made a mistake and brought her the wrong individual, 
 but Willie set her right by patting her cheek again, while 
 he called out, " Mamma, arntee." 
 
 The look of interest which Anna cast upon him embol 
 dened Adah to say, 
 
 " Excuse him, Miss Richards ; he must have mistaken 
 you for a dear friend at home, whom he calls Auntie. I'll 
 take him down ; he troubles you." 
 
 "No, no, please not," and Anna passed her arm around 
 him. " I love children so much. I ought to have been a 
 wife and mother, my brother says, instead of a useless old 
 maid." 
 
 Adah was too much a stranger to disclaim against An 
 na's calling herself old, so she paid no attention to the re 
 mark, but plunged at once into the matter which had 
 brought her there. Presuming they would rather be alone, 
 Pamelia had purposely left the room, meeting in the low 
 er hall with lady Richards, who, in much affright, was 
 searching for the recent occupants of the reception room. 
 She had ordered^ Dixson to carry them some lunch, and 
 Dixson had returned with the news that there was no 
 woman or child to be seen. Where were they then ? 
 Had they decamped, taking with them anything valuable 
 which chanced to be in their way ? Of course they had, 
 
ANNA AND ADAH. 251 
 
 and Eudora in the parlor, and Asenath in the dining-room, 
 and Mrs. Richards in the hall, were hunting for missing 
 articles, when Pamelia quieted them by saying, " The lady 
 was in Miss Anna's room." 
 
 At any other time Mrs. Richards would have corrected 
 her domestic fbr calling a servant a lady, but she did not 
 mind it now in her surprise. 
 
 "How came she there ? " she said, angrily, while Pamelia 
 replied, evasively, 
 
 " The little boy got up stairs, and, as children will ? 
 walked right into Miss Anna's room. She was taken 
 with him at once, and asked who he was. I told her and 
 she sent for the lady. That's how it happened." 
 
 It could not now be helped, and Mrs. Richards hurried 
 up to Anna's chamber, where Willie still was perched by 
 Anna's pillow, playing with the rings upon her fingers, 
 while Adah, with her bonnet in her lap, sat a little apart, 
 traces of tears and agitation upon her cheeks, but a look 
 of happiness in the eyes fixed so wistfully on Anna's fair, 
 sweet face. 
 
 " Please, mother," said Anna, motioning her away," leave 
 us alone awhile. Shut the door, and see that no one comes 
 near." 
 
 Mrs. Richards obeyed, and Anna, waiting until she was 
 out of hearing, resumed the conversation just where it had 
 been interrupted. 
 
 "And so you are the one who wrote that advertisement 
 which I read. Let me see the very night my brother 
 came home from Europe. I remember he laughed because 
 I was so interested, and he accidentally tore off the name 
 to light his cigar, so I forgot it entirely. What shall I call, 
 you, please ? " 
 
 Adah was silent a moment and then she answered, 
 "Adah, Adah Hastings, but please do not ask where I 
 came from now. I will tell you of the past, though I did 
 not even mean to do that ; but something about you makes 
 
252 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 me know I can trust you." And then, amid a shower of 
 tears, in which Anna's, too, were mingled, Adah told her 
 sad story told of the mock marriage, the cruel desertion, 
 of Willie's birth, her utter wretchedness, her attempt at 
 suicide, her final trust in God, her going at last to one who 
 gave her a home, even when he could not afford it ; of her 
 accidentally finding Anna's advertisement, and its result, 
 No names were given, not even that of New York. It 
 was merely the city and the country, and forgetful of the 
 medium through which she first heard of Adah, Anna 
 fancied Boston to have been the scene of her trials. 
 
 " But why do you wish to conceal your recent home ? " 
 she asked, after Adah had finished. " Is there any reason ? " 
 
 For a moment Adah was tempted to tell the whole, but 
 when she remembered how on the day of her departure 
 from Spring Bank Mrs. Worthington had asked her not 
 to say any thing disparaging of 'Lina, and admitted that 
 it would be a great relief if the Richards family should not 
 know for the present at least that she came from Spring 
 Bank, she replied, 
 
 "At first there was none in particular, save a fancy I 
 had, but there came one afterwards the request of one 
 who had been kind to me as a dear mother. Is it wrong 
 not to tell the whole ? " 
 
 " I think not. You have dealt honestly with me so far, 
 and I am sure I can trust you." 
 
 She meant to keep her then. She was not going to 
 send her away, and Adah's face lighted up with a joy 
 which made it so beautiful that Anna gazed at her in 
 surprise, marveling that any heart could be so hard as to 
 desert that gentle girl. 
 
 " Oh, may I stay ? " Adah asked eagerly. 
 
 " Of course you may. Did you think I would turn you 
 away ? " was Anna's reply ; and laying her head upon the 
 white counterpane of the bed, Adah cried passionately ; 
 not a wild, bitter cry, but a delicious kind of cry which 
 
ANNA AND ADAH. 253 
 
 did her good, even though her whole frame quivered and 
 her low, choking sobs fell distinctly on Anna's ear. 
 
 " Poor child ! " the latter said, laying her soft hand on 
 the bowed head. " You have suffered much, but with me 
 you shall find rest. I want you for a companion, rather 
 than a maid. You are better suited for it, and we shall 
 be very happy together, I am sure, though I am so much 
 an invalid. I, too, have had my heart trouble ; not like 
 yours, but heavy enough to make me wish I could die. 
 I was young and wayward then. I had not learned 
 patience where alone it is to be found." 
 
 It was seldom that Anna alluded to herself in this way, 
 and to do so to a stranger was utterly foreign to the 
 Richards' nature. But Anna could not help it. There 
 was something about Adah which interested her greatly. 
 She knew she was above a waiting maid's position, that 
 in point of refinement and cultivation she was fully equal 
 to herself; and when she decided to keep her, it was with 
 the determination that she should be made to feel the 
 degradation of her position as little as possible. She 
 could not w r holly shield her from her mother's and sisters' 
 pride, but she would do what she could, and perhaps 
 some day the recreant lover would be found and brought 
 back to a sense of his duty. 
 
 Blessed Anna Richards, the world has few like her, 
 so gentle, so kind, so lovely, and as no one could long be 
 with her and not feel her influence, so Adah grew calm 
 at last, and at Anna's request laid aside her cloak and hat 
 in which she had been sitting. 
 
 " Touch that bell, if you please, and ring Pamelia up," 
 Anna said, " There's a little room adjoining this, opening 
 into the hall, and also in here that's the door, wi!h the 
 bureau against it. I mean to give you that. You will be 
 so near me, and so retired, too, when you like. John 
 that's my brother occupied it when a boy, but as he 
 grew larger he said it was too small. Still, I think it will 
 answer nicely for you." 
 
254 HUGH WOIITHINGTON. 
 
 Obedient to the ring, Pamelia came, manifesting no sur 
 prise when told by Anna to move the dressing-bureau 
 back to the corner where it used to stand, to unlock the 
 door and see if the little room was in order. " I know it 
 is," she said, " I put it so this morning. There's a fire, too ; 
 Miss Anna has forgot that Dr. John slept here last night, 
 because it did not take so long to warm up as his big 
 chamber." 
 
 "I do remember now," Anna replied. " Mrs. Hastings 
 can go in at once. She must be tired ; and, Pamelia, send 
 lunch to her room, and tell your husband to bring up her 
 trunk." 
 
 Again Pamelia bowed and departed to do her young 
 mistress' bidding, while Adah entered the pleasant room 
 where Dr. Richards had slept the previous night, leaving 
 behind him, as he always did, an odor of cigars. Adah 
 detected the perfume, but it was not disagreeable on 
 the contrary, it reminded her of George, and for a brief 
 moment there stole over her a feeling as if in some way 
 she were brought very near to him by being in Dr. Rich 
 ards' room! What a cosy place it was, and how she 
 wished the people at Spring Bank could know all about 
 it. How thankful they would be, and how thankful she 
 was for this resting-place in the protection of sweet Anna 
 Richards. It was better than she had ever dared to hope 
 for, and sinking down by the snowy-covered bed, she 
 murmured inaudibly the prayer of thanksgiving to Him 
 who had led her to Terrace Hill. 
 
 There were dark frowns on the faces of the mother and 
 elder sisters when they learned of Anna's decision with 
 regard to Adah, but Anna's income, received from the 
 Aunt for whom she was named, gave her a right to act as 
 she pleased, so they contented themselves with a few ill 
 natured remarks concerning her foolishness, and the airs 
 the waiting maid put on. Adah, or Hastings as they call 
 ed her, was not their idea of a waiting maid, and they 
 
ANNA AND ADAH. 255 
 
 watched her curiously whenever she came in their sight, 
 wondering at her cultivated manners and how Anna would 
 ever manage one apparently so much heix-equal. Anna 
 wondered so too, for it was an awkward business, requir 
 ing a menial's service of that lady-like creature, with lan 
 guage so pure and manner so refined, and she would have 
 been exceedingly perplexed had not Adah's good sense 
 come to the rescue, prompting her to do things unasked, 
 and to do them in such a way that Anna was at once re 
 lieved from all embarrassment, and felt that she had found 
 a treasure indeed. She did not join the family in the eve 
 ning, but kept her room instead, talking with Adah, and 
 caressing and playing with little Willie, who persisted in 
 calling her " Arntee," in spite of all Adah could say. 
 
 " Never mind," Anna answered, laughingly ; " I rather 
 like to hear him. No one has ever called me by that 
 name, and maybe never will, though my brother is engaged 
 to be married in the spring. I have a picture of his be- 
 throthed there on my bureau. Would you like to see 
 it?" 
 
 Adah nodded, and was soon gazing on the dark, haugh 
 ty face she knew so well, and which even from the casing, 
 seemed to smile disdainfully, upon her, just as the origi 
 nal had often done. There was Ellen Tiffton's bracelet up 
 on the rounded arm, Ellen's chain upon the bare neck, 
 while twined among the braids of her hair was something 
 which looked like a bandeau of pearls, and which had 
 been borrowed for the occasion of Mrs. Ellsworth, Irving's 
 sister. 
 
 " What do you think of her ? " Anna asked, wondering 
 a little at the expression of Adah's face. 
 
 Adah must say something, and she replied, 
 
 " I dare say people think her pretty." 
 
 " Yes ; but what do you think ? I asked your opinion," 
 persisted Anna, and thus beset Adah replied at last, 
 
 " I think her too showily dressed for a picture. She dis 
 plays too much jewelry." 
 
256 HUGH WORTHINGTOX. 
 
 Feeling a little piqued that a stranger should have seized 
 upon the very point which had seriously annoyed herself, 
 Anna began to defend her future sister, never dreaming 
 how much more than herself Adah knew of 'Lina Worth- 
 ington. 
 
 It seemed to Adah like a miserable deceit, sitting there 
 and listening while Anna talked of 'Lina, and she was 
 glad when at last she showed signs of weariness, and ex 
 pressed a desire to retire for the night. 
 
 " Would you mind reading to me from the Bible ? " 
 Anna asked, as Adah was about to leave her. 
 
 " Oh, no, I'd like it so much," and bringing her own 
 little Bible to Anna's bedside, Adah read her favorite 
 chapter, the one which had comforted her so often when 
 life was at its darkest. 
 
 And Anna, listening to the sweet, silvery tones reading, 
 " Let not your heart be troubled," felt her own sorrow 
 grow less, while there went silently up a prayer of thanks 
 giving to heaven who had sent her such a comfort as Adah 
 Hastings. 
 
 The chapter was ended, the little Testament closed, and 
 then for a moment Adah sat as if waiting for Anna to 
 speak. But Anna continued silent, her thoughts intent 
 upon those mansions her elder brother had gone home be 
 fore her to prepare. 
 
 " If you please," Adah said timidly, bending over the 
 sweet face resting on the pillow, " if you please, may I 
 say the Lord's Prayer here with you ? I shall sleep bet 
 ter for it. I used to say it with " 
 
 She stopped suddenly ere the loved name of Alice had 
 passed her lips, but Anna was kindly unconscious of the 
 almost mistake, and only answered by grasping Adah's 
 hand, and whispering to her, 
 
 " Yes, say it, do." 
 
 Then Adah knelt beside her, and Anna's fair hand rest 
 ed, as if in blessing, on her head, as they said together, 
 Our Father." 
 
ANNA AND ADAH. 257 
 
 It was a lovely sight, those two girls as it were, the 
 one mistress, the other the maid, yet both forgetting the 
 inequality in that expression of a common faith which 
 made them truly equals ; and Eudora, awed at the sight, 
 paused a moment on the threshold, and then moved si 
 lently away, lest they should know she had been there. 
 
 At first Adah's position at Terrace Hill was a very try 
 ing one, but Anna's unfailing kindness and thoughtfulness 
 shielded her from much that was unpleasant, while the 
 fact that Willie was finding favor in the eyes of those who 
 had considered him an intruder, helped to make her bur 
 den easy. 
 
 Accustomed to the free range of Spring Bank, Willie 
 asserted the same right at Terrdce Hill, going where he 
 pleased, and putting himself so often in Mrs. Richards' 
 way, that she began at last to notice him, and if no one 
 was near, to caress the handsome boy. Asenath and Eu 
 dora held out longer, but even they were not proof against 
 Willie's winning ways. His innocent prattle, and the 
 patter of his little feet, heard from day dawn till night, 
 thawed the ice from their hearts, until Asenath, the soft 
 er of the two, was once caught by Adah in the very un 
 dignified act of playing she was coach horse, while Wil 
 lie's whip, given to him by Anna, was snapped in close 
 proximity to her ears; Eudora, too, no longer hid her 
 worsted stool, and as the weeks went on, there gradually 
 came to be prints of little, soiled, dirty fingers on 
 the sideboard in the dining-room, on the hat-stand in 
 the hall, on the table in the parlor, and even on the 
 dressing bureau in Madame's bed chamber, where the 
 busy, active child had forced an entrance. 
 
 It was some weeks ere Adah wrote to Alice Johnson, 
 and when at last she did, she said of Terrace Hill, 
 
 " I am happier here than I at first supposed it possible. 
 The older ladies were so proud, that it made me very 
 wretched, in spite of sweet Anna's kindness. But there 
 
X 
 258 HUGH WORTHDSTGTON. 
 
 has come a perceptible change, and they now treat me 
 civilly, if nothing more, while I do believe they are fond 
 of Willie, and would miss him if he were gone." 
 
 Adah was right in this conjecture ; for had it now been 
 optional with the Misses Richards whether Willie should 
 go or stay, they would have kept him there from choice, 
 so cheery and pleasant he made the house. Adah was 
 still too pretty, too stylish, to suit their ideas of a ser 
 vant; but when they found she did not presume at 
 all on her good looks, but meekly kept her place, they 
 dropped the haughty manner they had at first assumed, 
 and treated her with civility if not with kindness. 
 
 With Anna it was different. Won by Adah's gentle 
 ness, and purity, she came at last to love her almost as 
 much as if she had been a younger sister. Adah was 
 not a servant to her, but a companion, a friend, with 
 whom she daily held familiar converse, learning from her 
 much that was good, and prizing her more and more as 
 the winter weeks went swiftly by. 
 
 She had also grown very confidential, telling Adah 
 much of her past life, talking freely of Charlie Millbrook 
 whose wife she had heard was dead, and for whose return 
 to America she was hoping. She was talking of him one 
 afternoon and blushing like a girl as Adah playfully sug 
 gested what might possibly ensue from his coming home, 
 when her mother came in evidently annoyed and dis 
 turbed at something. 
 
 " I have a letter from John," she said. " They are to be 
 
 married the day of April, which leaves us only five 
 
 weeks more, as they will start at once for Terrace Hill. 
 " I am so bothered. I want to see you alone," and she 
 cast a furtive glance at Adah, who left the room, while 
 madam plunged at once into the matter agitating her so 
 much. 
 
 She had fully intended going to Kentucky with her 
 son. It would be a good opportunity for seeing the 
 
ANNA AND ADAH. 259 
 
 country, besides showing proper respect to her daughter- 
 in-law, but ''Lina had objected, not in words, but in man 
 ner, objected, and the doctor had written, saying she 
 must not go, at the same time urging upon her the ne 
 cessity of having everything in perfect order, and in as 
 good style as possible for his bride. 
 
 " I have not the money myself," he wrote, " and I'll 
 have to get trusted for my wedding suit, so you must 
 appeal to Anna's good nature for the wherewithal with 
 which to fix the rooms. It's downright mean, I know, 
 but she's the only one of the firm who has money. Do, 
 pray, re-paper them ; that chocolate color is enough to 
 give one the blues ; and get a carpet too, something lively 
 and cheerful. She may stay with you longer than you 
 anticipate. It is too expensive living here as she would 
 expect to live. Nothing but Fifth Avenue Hotel would 
 suit her, and I cannot ask her for funds at once. I'd rath 
 er come to it gradually." 
 
 And this it was which so disturbed Mrs. Richards' 
 peace of mind. She could not go to Kentucky, and she 
 might as well have saved the money she had expended 
 in getting herl)lack silk velvet dress fixed for the occasion, 
 while worst of all she must have John's wife there for 
 months, perhaps, whether she liked it or not, and she must 
 also fit up the rooms with paper and paint and carpets, 
 notwithstanding that she'd nothing -to do it with, unless 
 Anna generously gave the necessary sum from her own 
 yearly income. This Anna promised to do, suggesting 
 that Adah should make the carpet, as that would save a 
 little. 
 
 " I wish, mother," she added, " that you would let her 
 arrange the rooms altogether. She has exquisite taste, 
 besides the faculty of making the most of things." Mrs. 
 Richards, too, had confidence in Adah's taste, and so it 
 was finally arranged that Adah should superintend the 
 bridal rooms, subject of course to the dictation of Madame 
 and her daughters. 
 
260 HUGH WOKTHINGTON 
 
 At first Eudora and Asenath demuiTed, but when they 
 saw how competent Adah was, and how modest withal in 
 giving her opinions, they yielded the point, so far as ac 
 tual overseeing was concerned, contenting themselves with 
 suggestions which Adah followed or not just as she 
 liked. 
 
 Frequently doubts crossed her mind as to the future, 
 when it might be known that she came from Spring Bank, 
 and knew the expected bride. Would she not be blamed 
 as a party in the deception ? Did God think it right for 
 her to keep silent concerning the past ? Ought she not 
 to tell Anna frankly that she knew her brother's betroth 
 ed ? She did not know, and the harassing anxiety wore 
 upon her faster than all the work she had to do. 
 
 The Dr. was expected home for a day before starting 
 for Kentucky, and Adah frequently caught herself won 
 dering if she should see him. She presumed she should 
 not unless it were by accident, neither did she care par 
 ticularly if she did not, and so on the morning of his ex 
 pected arrival, when the other members of the household 
 were anxious and watchful, she alone was quiet and self- 
 possessed, doing her duties as usual, and feeling no -pre 
 sentiment of the shock awaiting her. She was in the dining 
 room when the door bell rang, and she heard the tramp of 
 horses' feet as Jim drove round to the stable. The doctor 
 had come and she must go, but where was Willie? He 
 was with her a moment ago, but she could not see him 
 now. She hoped he was not in the parlor, for she knew 
 it would annoy Eudora, who had more than once said 
 something in her hearing about that "child forever under 
 foot." 
 
 "Willie, Willie," she called, in a tremor of distress, as 
 she heard his little feet pattering through the hall, togeth 
 er with the rush of other feet as madame, Asenath and 
 Eudora, all came down together to admit their son and 
 brother. 
 
THE RESULT. 261 
 
 But Willie paid no heed, and as Eudora had said, was 
 directly under foot, when she unlocked the door; his 
 the first form distinctly seen, his the first face which met 
 the doctor's view, and his fearless baby laugh the first 
 sound which welcomed the doctor home ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE EESULT. 
 
 It was not a disagreeable picture that chubby, 
 rosy-cheeked little boy, his white fat shoulders peeping 
 out from the dress of crimson and black, his fair curls 
 blowing around his forehead, and his eyes raised curiously 
 to the doctor's face. Willie had not expected to see a 
 stranger, and at sight of the tall figure, muffied above the 
 chin, he drew back timidly and half hid himself behind 
 Mrs. Richards, whom he intuitively knew to be the warmest 
 ally he had among the three ladies gathered in the hall. 
 
 As the doctor had said to Irving Stanley he disliked 
 children, but he could not help noticing Willie, and after 
 the first greetings were over he asked, " Whom have we 
 here? whose child is this? " 
 
 Eudora and Asenath tried to frown, but the expression 
 of their faces softened as they glanced at Willie, who had 
 followed them into the parlor, and who, with one little 
 foot thrown forward, and his fat hands pressed together, 
 stood upon the hearth rug, gazing at the doctor with that 
 strange look which had so often puzzled, bewildered, and 
 fascinated the entire Richards family. 
 
 " Anna wrote you that the maid she so much wanted 
 had come to her at last a very lady-like person, who 
 has evidently seen better days, and this is her boy, Willie. 
 
262 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 He is such a queer little fellow, that we allow him more 
 liberties than we ought." 
 
 It was Mrs. Richards who volunteered this explanation, 
 while her son stood looking down at Willie, wonder 
 ing what it was about the child which seemed familiar. 
 Anna had mentioned Mrs. Hastings in her letter had 
 said how much she liked her, had spoken of her boy, but 
 the Hastings had been badly blotted, and as the Doctor 
 was too niuch absorbed in his own affairs to care for An 
 na's waiting maid, he had not thought of her since, not 
 withstanding that 'Lina had tried many times to make 
 him speak of Anna's maid, so as to calculate her own safe 
 ty- 
 
 " So you've taken to petting a servant's child, for want 
 of something better," he said in answer to Mrs. Richards' 
 rather long speech concerning Willie. 
 
 Ere Mrs. Richards could reply Anna made her appear 
 ance, and the fastidious Doctor forgot the little fellow* 
 who was coaxed from the room by Pamelia, and taken to 
 his mother. 
 
 The doctor was not in as good humor as men are sup 
 posed to be on the eve of their marriage with heiresses. 
 He had offered to accompany 'Lina to Kentucky, but she 
 had peremptorily declined his escort, and rather, as it seem 
 ed to him, thrust herself upon a gentleman and lady who 
 were returning to Louisville. Several little things which 
 she had done at the last had displeased him, as showing 
 less refinement than he had given her credit for possess 
 ing, besides which he could not conceal from himself the 
 suspicion that Mrs. Ellsworth was heartily glad to be rid of 
 her, and had perhaps talked of going to Europe with her lit 
 tle girl as a ruse, and that she was not a favorite with 
 any one of his particular friends. Still he meant to mar 
 ry her, and after the late dinner was over he went with 
 Anna to inspect the rooms which Adah had fitted for his 
 bride. They were very pleasant, and he could find fault 
 
THE RESULT. 263 
 
 with nothing. The carpet, the curtains, the new light 
 furniture, the arm chair by the window where 'Lin a was 
 expected to sit, the fanciful work basket standing near, 
 and his chair not far away, all were in perfect taste, but 
 still there was a load upon his heart, making him so silent 
 and moody, that Anna forebore talking to him much and 
 did not even mention Adah, though she had meant to tell 
 him just what a treasure she was and perhaps have him 
 see her too. But the doctor was in no frame of mind to 
 talk of strangers, for thoughts of Lily were particularly 
 haunting him to-day. 
 
 It was a great mistake he made when he cast her off, 
 but it could not now be helped. No tears, no regrets, 
 could bring back the dear little form laid away beneath 
 the grassy sod, and so he would not waste his time in idle 
 mourning. He would do the best he could with 'Lina. 
 He did believe she loved him. He was almost, sure of it, 
 and as a means of redressing Lily's wrongs he would be 
 kind to her. Lily would bid him do so if she could 
 speak. She surely knew what he was doing; perhaps 
 she was very near to him ; he somehow felt that she was, 
 and more than once, he caught himself turning suddenly 
 with the fancy that Lily was behind him. The doctor 
 was not superstitious, but he began at last to feel that it 
 would be a relief to be freed from the Lily-laden atmos 
 phere pervading Terrace Hill, and rather joyfully he 
 watched the sun as it passed the meridian, and sank 
 lower and lower in the west, for by that token he knew 
 he had not a much longer time to stay at home, as he 
 would take the evening train bound for Albany. 
 ****** 
 
 Slowly the twilight shadows crept over Terrace Hill, 
 and into the little room where Adah was preparing for 
 her accustomed walk to the office. Willie was down 
 with Pamelia, who, when she came up for him, had told 
 Adah as something of which she should be proud, that 
 
264 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 the doctor had actually thrown Willie into the air and 
 pronounced him a splendid-looking child, "considering." 
 
 That " considering " wounded Adah, for she felt the 
 sneer at her position which it implied, and with a faint 
 smile, she dismissed Pamelia, and then went to the 
 closet for the over-shoes she would need in her damp 
 walk. But what was it which fell like a thunderbolt on 
 her ear, riveting her to the spot where she stood, rigid 
 and immovable. Between the closet and Anna's room 
 there was only a thin partition, and when the door was 
 open every sound was distinctly heard. The doctor had 
 just come in, and it was his voice, heard for the first time, 
 which sent the blood throbbing so madly through Adah's 
 veins, and made the sparks of fire dance before her eyes. 
 She was not deceived the tones were too distinct, too full, 
 too well remembered to be mistaken, and stretching out her 
 hands in the dim darkness, she moaned faintly : " George ! 
 'tis George ! " then sank upon the floor, powerless but 
 not fainting, nor yet unconscious of the terrible certainty 
 that George was so near to her that but for the partition 
 she might almost have touched him ! She could hear 
 him now saying to Anna, " Are we alone ? I wish to 
 speak my farewell words in private." 
 
 " Yes, all alone," Anna replied. " Mrs. Hastings has 
 gone to the Post-office. Was it any thing particular you 
 wished to tell me? " 
 
 The Doctor either did not hear the name " Mrs Has 
 tings," or did not notice it, and again the familiar tones 
 thrilled on Adah's ear as he replied, " Nothing very par 
 ticular. I only wished to say a few words of 'Lina. I 
 want you to like her, to make up, if possible, for the love 
 I ought to give her." 
 
 " Ought to give her ! Oh, brother, are you taking 
 'Lina without love ? Better never make the vow than 
 break it after it is made." 
 
 Anna spoke earnestly, and the doctor, who always 
 
THE RESULT. 265 
 
 tried to retain her good opinion, replied evasively, " I 
 suppose I do love her as well as half the world love 
 their wives before marriage, but she is different from any 
 ladies I have known ; so different from what poor Lily was. 
 Anna, let me talk with you again of Lily. I never told 
 you all but what is that?" he continued, as he indis 
 tinctly heard the choking, gasping, stifled sob, which 
 Adah gave at the sound of the dear pet name, which 
 used to make the blood thrill so ecstatically through her 
 veins, and which now, for a single moment, made her 
 heart bound with sudden joy ; but only for a moment. 
 " Poor Lily," said a hundred times, with a hundred fold 
 more tenderness than he was wont to say it, could not 
 atone for the past ; for the cruel desertion, for the decep 
 tion even of the name ; and so the poor, wounded heart 
 grew still again as lead, while Anna answered, " It's only 
 the rising wind. It sounds so always when it's in the 
 east. "What of Lily? Do you wish you were going 
 after her instead of Lina? " 
 
 Could Anna have seen then into the darkness of the 
 adjoining room, she would have shrunk in terror from the 
 figure, which, as she asked that question, struggled to its 
 knees, and creeping nearer to the door, turned its white, 
 spectral face toward her, listening eagerly for the answer. 
 Oh, why did the doctor hesitate a moment ? Why did 
 he suffer his dread of losing Anna's respect to triumph 
 over every other feeling ? He had meant to tell her all, 
 how he did love the gentle girl, who confided herself to 
 him how he loved even her memory now far more 
 than he loved 'Lina, but something kept the full confes 
 sion back, and he answered, 
 
 " 1 don't know. We must have money, and 'Lina is 
 rich, while Lily was very poor, and the only friend or re 
 lation she knew was one with whom I would not dare 
 have you come in contact, he was so wicked and reck 
 less." 
 
 12 
 
266 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 This was what the doctor said, and into the brown 
 eyes, now bloodshot and dim with anguish, there came 
 the hard, fierce look, before which Alice Johnson once 
 had shuddered, when Adah Hastings said, 
 
 " I should hate him ! " 
 
 And in that dark hour of agony Adah felt that she did 
 hate him. She knew now that what she before would 
 not believe was true. He had not made her a lawful 
 wife, else he had never dared to take another. She was 
 a degraded creature, Willie a child of sin, and he had 
 made them so. It was the bitterest dreg she had been 
 forced to take, and for an instant, she forgot the God she 
 served, forgot every thing save the desire to curse the 
 man talking so calmly of her, as if her ruin were nought 
 to him. But anon, the still small voice she always obey 
 ed spoke to her tumultuous spirit, and the curse on her 
 lips died away in the faint whisper, " Forgive me, Father, 
 and forgive him, too." 
 
 She did not hear him now, for with that prayer, all con 
 sciousness forsook her, and she lay on her face insensible, 
 while at the very last he did confess to Anna that Lily 
 was his wife. He did not say unlawfully so. He could 
 not tell her that. He said, 
 
 " I married her privately. I kept it from you all until 
 she died. I would bring her back if I could, but I cannot, 
 and I shall marry 'Lina." 
 
 "But," and Anna grasped his hand nervously, " I 
 thought you told me once, that you won her love, and 
 then, when mother's harsh letters came, left her without 
 a word. Was that story false ? " 
 
 The doctor was wading out in deep waters, and in 
 desperation he added lie to lie, saying, huskily 
 
 " Yes, that was false. I tell you I married her, and she 
 died. Was I to blame for that ? " 
 
 " No, no, oh, no. I'd far rather it were so. I respect 
 you more than if you had left her. I am glad, so glad not 
 
THE KESULT. 267 
 
 that she died, but that you are not so bad as I feared. 
 Sweet Lily," and Anna's tears flowed fast to the memory 
 of the poor girl whose early grave she saw in fancy some 
 where in a beautiful Greenwood. 
 
 There was a knock at the door, and Jim appeared, in 
 quiring if the doctor would have the carriage brought 
 round. It was nearly time to go, and with the whisper 
 ed words to Anna, "I have told you what no one else 
 must ever know," the doctor descended with his sister to 
 the parlor, where his mother was waiting for him. The 
 opening and shutting of the door caused a draught of air, 
 which, falling on the fainting Adah, restored her to con 
 sciousness, and struggling to her feet, she tried to think 
 what it was that had happened. She remembered 
 it soon, and with a shudder listened to know if George 
 was still in the adjoining chamber. All was quiet there. 
 He had gone, and tottering into the room, she knelt by the 
 chair where he knew she had sat. Then, as the last expir 
 ing throe of her love for him swept over her, she essayed 
 to wind her trembling arms around the chair, as she would 
 once have twined them about him. 
 
 " Oh, George ! George ! " she gasped, calling him still 
 George, for she almost hated that other name. " Oh, 
 George, I did love you so much," and she laid her poor, 
 tired head upon the chair as if it had been his lap. " I 
 loved you so much, but it is over now, or it soon will be. 
 I feel its death struggles at my heart. You are worse 
 than I believed. You have made me an outcast, and Willie 
 
 " The sentence ended with the wailing cry 
 
 " My boy, my boy ! that such a heritage should be yours." 
 
 Adah could not pray then, although she tried, but the 
 fitting words would not come, and with her head still rest 
 ing on his chair, she looked the terrible reality in the 
 face, and saw just where she stood. Heretofore the one 
 great hope, that she was really a wife, had buoyed her up 
 when everything else was dark. Like a drowning person 
 
268 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 grasping at a straw, she had clang to that, even against her 
 better judgment, but now it was swept away, and with it 
 the semblance of a name. He had deceived her even 
 there, and she had accepted the Hastings as something 
 tangible. He was a greater villain than she had imagined 
 a man could be, and again her white lips essayed to curse 
 him, but the rash act was stayed by the low words whis 
 pered in her ear, " Forgive as ye would be forgiven." 
 
 " If it were not for Willie, I might, but oh ! my boy, 
 my boy disgraced," was the rebellious spirit's answer, when 
 again the voice whispered, " And who art thou to contend 
 against thy God ? Know you not that I am the Father of 
 the fatherless." 
 
 There were tears now in Adah's eyes, the first which 
 she had shed. 
 
 " I'll try," she murmured, " try to forgive the wrong, but 
 the strength must all be thine," and then, though there 
 came no sound or motion ; her heart went out in agoniz 
 ing prayer, that she might forgive even as she hoped to 
 be forgiven. 
 
 She did not ask that the dead love might ever return 
 again. She had no desire for that, but she asked to feel 
 kindly towards him, that the resentful feeling might be re 
 moved, that God would show her what to do and where to 
 go, for she could not stay there now, in his home, whither 
 he would bring his bride ere many days were gone. She 
 must go away, not to Spring Bank, not anywhere where 
 he or Lina could ever find her. She would far rather die. 
 But Willie ! what would she do with him, her tender, in 
 nocent boy ? 
 
 " God tell me what to do with Willie ? " she sobbed, 
 starting suddenly as the answer to her prayer seemed to 
 come at once. "Oh! can I do that?" she moaned ; "can 
 I leave him here ? " 
 
 At first her whole soul recoiled from it, but when she 
 remembered Anna, and how much she loved the child, her 
 
THE RESULT. 269 
 
 feelings began to change. Anna would love him more 
 when she knew he was poor Lily's and her own brother's. 
 She would be kind to him for his father's sake, and for the 
 sake of the girl she had professed to like. Willie should 
 be bequeathed to Anna. It would break her heart to 
 leave him, were it not already broken, but it was better 
 so. It would be better in the end. He would forget her 
 in time, unless sweet Anna told him of her, as perhaps she 
 might. Dear Anna, how Adah longed to fold her arms 
 about her once and call her sister, but she must not. It 
 might not be well received, for Anna had some pride, as 
 her waiting-maid had learned. 
 
 " A waiting-maid ! " Adah repeated the name, smiling 
 bitterly as she thought, "A waiting-maid in his own 
 home! Who would have dreamed that I should ever 
 come to this, when he painted the future so grandly? Be 
 still, my heart, or I shall hate him yet, and I'm going to 
 forgive him." 
 
 Then there came over her the wild, yearning desire to 
 see his face once more, to know if he had changed, and 
 why couldn't she? They supposed her gone to the office, 
 and she would go there now, taking the depot on the way. 
 She would go closely veiled, and none would suspect her 
 errand. Rising mechanically, she donned her cloak and 
 hood, and stealing down the stairs which led from An 
 na's room into the garden, she was soon out beneath 
 the starry sky, inhaling the cool night air, so grateful to 
 her heated brain. 
 
 Apart in the ladies' room at Snowdon depot, a veiled 
 figure sat, waiting apparently for the cars, just as others 
 were. She was the only female present, and no one had 
 noticed her particularly when she came in, for the gentle 
 men walking up and down the room only glanced at her, 
 and then gave her no further thought. And there she sat, 
 Dr. Richards' deserted wife, waiting to look on his face 
 
270 HUGH WOKTHINGTON. 
 
 once more ere she fled she knew not whither. He camo 
 at last, Jim's voice speaking to his horses heralding his ap 
 proach. Adah could not see him yet, but she knew just 
 when his feet struck the platform as he sprang from the 
 carriage, and shivered as if it were a blow aimed at her 
 heart. 
 
 The group of rough-looking men gathered about the 
 office did not suit his mood, and so he came on to the la 
 dies' apartment, just as Adah knew he would. Pausing 
 for a moment on the threshold, he looked hastily in, his 
 glance falling upon the veiled figure sitting there so 
 lonely and motionless. She did not care for him, she 
 would not object to his presence, so he came nearer to 
 the stove, poising his patent leathers upon the hearth, 
 thrusting both hands into his pockets, and even humming 
 to himself snatches of a song, which Lily used to sing, up 
 the three flights of stairs in that New York boarding- 
 house. 
 
 Poor Adah ! How white and cold she grew, listening 
 to that air, and gazing upon the face she had loved so well. 
 It was changed since the night when, with his kiss warm 
 on her lips, he left her forever ; changed, and for the worse. 
 There was a harder, a more reckless, determined expression 
 there, a look which better than words could have done? 
 told that self alone was the god he worshipped. Adah 
 doubted if he could have won her love with that look up 
 on his face, and 'Lina Worthington was not envied the 
 honor in store for her. It was a bitter struggle to sit 
 there so quietly, to meet the eye before which she was 
 wont to blush with happiness, to know that he was look 
 ing at her, wondering it might be, who she was, but never 
 dreaming it was Lily. 
 
 Once, as he walked up and down the room, passing so 
 near to her that she might have touched him with her 
 hand, she felt an almost irresistible desire to thrust her 
 thick brown veil aside, and confronting him to his face, 
 
THE RESULT. 271 
 
 claim from him what she had a right to claim, his name 
 and a position as his wife. Only for Willie's sake, how 
 ever ; for herself she did not wish it. He was not wor 
 thy, and forcing back the wild impulse, she sat with throb 
 bing heart and bloodless lips watching him, as he still 
 walked np and down, his brows knit together as if absorb 
 ed in some unpleasant thought. 
 
 It was a relief when at last the roll of the cars was 
 heard, and buttoning his coat still closer around him, he 
 went out upon the platform and stepped mechanically in 
 to the car. 
 
 Quickly Adah, too, passed through the rear door out 
 into the street, and with a piteous moan for her ruined life, 
 kept on her way till the post-office was reached. 
 
 There was a letter for Anna in the box, and thrusting 
 it into her pocket Adah took her way back to Terrace 
 Hill. 
 
 The family, including Anna, were spending the evening 
 in the parlor, where there were callers, and thus none 
 thought of or noticed Adah as she passed through the 
 hall and crept up to her room. 
 
 Willie was asleep ; and as Pamelia, who brought him 
 up, had thoughtfully undressed and placed him in bed, 
 there was nothing for Adah to do but think. She should 
 go away, of course ; she could not stay there longer ; 
 but how should sho tell them why she went, and who 
 would be her medium for communication ? 
 
 " Anna," she whispered ; and lighting her little lamp, she 
 sat down to write the letter which would tell Anna 
 Richards who was the waiting-maid to whom she had 
 been so kind. 
 
 Adah was very calm when she began that letter, and as it 
 progressed, she seemed turning into stone, so insensible 
 she was to what, without that rigidity of nerve, would 
 have been a task more painful than she could well en 
 dure. 
 
272 HUGH TVORTHINGTON. 
 
 "Dear Anna," she wrote. "Forgive me for calling 
 you so this once, for indeed I cannot help it. I am going 
 away from you ; and when, in the morning, you wait for 
 me to come as usual, I shall not be here. I could not 
 ..stay and meet your brother when he returns. Oh, Anna, 
 Anna, how shall I begin to tell you what I know will 
 grieve and shock your pure nature so dreadfully? 
 
 " I love to call you Anna now, for you seem near to 
 me ; and believe me, while I write this to you, I am con 
 scious of no feeling of inferiority to any one bearing 
 your proud name. I am, or should have been, your sis 
 ter ; and Willie ! oh, my boy, when I think of him, I 
 seem to be going mad ! 
 
 " Cannot you guess ? don't you know now who I 
 am ? God forgive your brother, as I asked him to do, 
 kneeling there by the very chair where he sat an hour 
 since, talking to you of Lily. I heard him, and the 
 sound of his voice took power and strength away. I 
 could not move to let you know I was there, and I lay 
 upon the floor till consciousness forsook me ; and then, 
 when I woke again, you both were gone. 
 
 " I went to the depot, I saw him in his face to make 
 assurance sure, and Anna, I, oh I don't know what I 
 am. The world would not call me a wife, though I be 
 lieved I was ; but they cannot deal thus cruelly by Wil 
 lie, or wash from his veins his father's blood, for I , who 
 write this, I who have been a servant in the house 
 where I should have been the mistress, am Lily 
 wronged, deserted Lily and Willie is your brother's 
 child ! His father's looks are in his face. But when I 
 came here I had no suspicion, for he won me as George 
 Hastings ; that was the name by which I knew him, and 
 I was Adah Gordon. If you do not believe me, ask him 
 when he comes back if ever in his wanderings he met 
 with Adah Gordon, or her guardian, Mr. Redjfield. Ask 
 if he was ever present at a marriage where this Adah 
 
THE RESULT 273 
 
 gave her heart to one for whom she would then have lost 
 her life, erring in that she loved the gift more than the 
 giver; but God punishes idolatry, and he has punished 
 me, so sorely, oh so sorely, that sometimes my fainting 
 soul cries out, ' 'tis more than I can bear.' " 
 
 Then followed more particulars so that there should be 
 no doubt, and then the half crazed Adah took up the 
 theme nearest to her heart, her boy, her beautiful Willie. 
 She could not take him with her. She knew not where 
 she was going, and Willie must not suffer. Would Anna 
 take the child? Would she love him for his father's 
 sake ? Would she shield him from scorn, and when he 
 was older would she sometimes tell him of the mother 
 who went away that he might be spared shame ? 
 
 " I do not ask that the new bride should ever call him 
 hers," she wrote ; " I'd rather she would not. I ask that 
 you should give him a mother's care, and if his father 
 will sometimes speak kindly to him for the sake of the 
 olden time when he did love the mother, tell him 
 Willie's father, I mean tell him, oh I know not what 
 to bid you tell him, except that I forgive him, though "at 
 first it was so hard, and the words refused to come ; I 
 trusted him so much, loved him so much, and until I had 
 it from his own lips, believed I was his wife. But that 
 cured me ; that killed the love, if any still existed, and 
 now, if I could, I would not be his, unless it were for 
 Willie's sake. Don't deem me too proud when I say, that 
 to be his wife would be to me more terrible than any thing 
 which I yet have borne, except it were for Willie. I say 
 this because it's possible your kind heart would prompt 
 you at once to bring back your erring brother, and per 
 suade him at the last to do me justice. But I would not 
 have it so. Shield Willie ; nurture him tenderly ; teach 
 your mother to love him, and if you so desire it, I will 
 never cross his path, never come near to him, though at a 
 distance, if Heaven wills it, I shall watch my child. 
 
274 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 " And now farewell. God deal with you, dear Anna, 
 as you deal with ray boy." 
 
 Calmly, steadily, Adah folded up the missive, and lay 
 ing it with the other letter, busied herself next in making 
 the necessary preparations for her flight. Anna had been 
 very liberal with her in point of wages, paying her every 
 week, and paying more than at first agreed upon ; and as 
 she had scarcely spent a penny during her three months' 
 sojourn at Terrace Hill, she had, including what Alice 
 had given to her, nearly forty dollars. She was trying so 
 hard to make it a hundred, and so send it to Hugh some 
 day ; but she needed it most herself, and she placed it 
 carefully in her little purse, sighing over the golden coin 
 which Anna had paid Jier last, little dreaming for what 
 purpose it would be used. She would not change her 
 dress until Anna had retired, as that might excite suspi 
 cion ; so with the same rigid apathy of manner she sat 
 down by Willie's side and waited till Anna was 
 heard moving in her room. The lamp was burning dim 
 ly on the bureau, and so Anna failed to see the frightful 
 expression of Adah's face as she performed her accustom 
 ed duties, brushing Anna's hair, and letting her hands lin 
 ger caressingly amid the locks she might never touch 
 again. 
 
 It did strike Anna that something was the matter ; for 
 when Adah spoke to her, the voice was husky and unnat 
 ural. Still, she paid no attention, and the chapter was 
 read as usual, after which Adah bade her good-night and 
 went to her own room. Anna slept very soundly, and 
 when toward morning a light footstep glided across her 
 threshold she did not hear it, neither did she know when 
 two letters were laid softly on her pillow, where she could 
 not fail to find them when she awoke, nor yet was she 
 aware of the blessings breathed over her, as kneeling by 
 her side Adah prayed out her farewell. Not wept. She 
 could not do that, even when it carne to leaving Willie. 
 
EXCITEMENT. 275 
 
 Her tears were frozen into stone, and the mighty throes 
 of anguish which seemed forcing her heart from its na 
 tural position were of no avail to moisten the feverish lids, 
 drooping so heavily over the swollen eyes. A convulsive 
 prayer, in which her whole soul was embodied, a gasping 
 sob of bitter, bitter pain, and then Adah put from her the 
 little soft, warm, baby arm which Willie had unconscious 
 ly thrown across her neck when she laid her face by his. 
 She dared not look at him again lest the sight should un 
 nerve her, and with a decision born of desperation, she left 
 her sleeping boy and hurried down the stairs into the 
 gloomy hall, where not a sound was audible &s her feet 
 pressed the soft thick carpet on her passage to the outer 
 door. The bolt was drawn, the key was turned, and just 
 as the clock struck three, Adah stood outside the yard, 
 leaning on the gate and gazing back at the huge building 
 looming up so dark and grand beneath the starry sky- 
 One more prayer for Willie and the mother-auntie to whose 
 care she had left him, one more straining glance at the 
 window of the little room where he lay sleeping, and she 
 resolutely turned away, nor stopped again until the Dan 
 ville depot was reached, the station where, in less than five 
 minutes after her arrival, the night express stood for an in 
 stant, and then went thundering on, bearing with it ano 
 ther passenger, bound for she knew not, cared not whi 
 ther. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 EXCITEMENT. 
 
 They were not early risers at Terrace Hill, and the 
 morning following Adah's flight Anna slept later than 
 usual ; nor was it until Willie's cry, calling for mamma, 
 
276 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 was heard, that she awoke, and thinking Adah had gone 
 down for something, bade Willie come to her. Putting 
 out her arms she lifted him carefully into her own bed, 
 and in so doing brushed from her pillow the letters left 
 for her. But it did not matter then, and for a full half 
 hour she lay waiting for Adah's return. Growing impa- . 
 tient at last, she stepped upon the floor, her bare feet touch 
 ing something cold, something which made her look down 
 and find that she was stepping on a letter not one, but 
 two and in wondering surprise she turned them to the 
 light, half fainting with excitement, when on the back of 
 the first one examined, she saw the old familiar handwrit 
 ing, and knew that Charlie had written. 
 
 Anna had hardly been human had she waited an instant 
 ere she tore open the envelope and learned that Charlie 
 had returned from India and had not forgotten her. The 
 love of his early manhood had increased with his maturer 
 years, and he could not be satisfied until he heard from 
 her that he was remembered and still beloved, that if .this 
 letter did not bring a reply he should come himself and 
 brave the proud woman who guarded the entrance to Ter 
 race Hill. 
 
 This was Charlie's letter, this what Anna read, and de 
 licious tears of joy flowed over her beautiful face, as 
 pressing the paper to her lips, she murmured, 
 
 "Dear Charlie ! darling Charlie ! I thank the kind Fath 
 er for bringing him at last to me." 
 
 Hiding it in her bosom, Anna took the other letter, and 
 throwing her shawl around her, sat down by the window 
 and read it through read it once, read it twice, read it 
 thrice, and then Sure never were the inmates of Ter 
 race Hill thrown into so much astonishment and alarm as 
 they were that April morning, when, in her cambric night 
 robe, her long hair falling unbound about her shoulders, 
 and her bare feet, gleaming white and cold upon the floor, 
 Miss Anna went screaming from room to room, demand- 
 
EXCITEMENT. 277 
 
 ing of the startled inmates if they had seen Adah Has 
 tings if they knew where she had gone bidding Jim 
 find her at his peril, telling Pamelia to join in the search, 
 and asking her wonder-stricken mother and sisters " if they 
 had any idea who it was that had been an inmate of their 
 house for so many weeks." 
 
 " Come . with me," she almost screamed, and dragging 
 her mother to her room, where Willie sat up in bed, look 
 ing curiously about him and uncertain whether to cry or 
 to laugh, she exclaimed, " Look at him, mother, and you, 
 too, Asenath and Eudora ! " turning to her sisters, who had 
 followed. " Tell me who is he like ? Mother, surely 
 you ought to know ought to recognize your own son's 
 offspring, for he is, he certainly is, John's child ! and Adah 
 was Lily, the young girl whom you forbade him to marry ! 
 Listen, mother, you shall listen to what your pride has 
 done ! " and grasping the bewildered Mrs. Richards by 
 the arm, Anna held her fast while she read aloud the 
 letter left by Adah. 
 
 Mrs. Richards fainted. It was the best thing under the 
 circumstance which she could do, as it gave them all a 
 little diversion from the exciting matter in hand. She 
 soon recovered, however, and listened eagerly while Anna 
 repeated all her brother had ever told her of Lily. 
 
 " I believe it is true," she said, and taking the letter she 
 read it for herself, feeling an added respect for Adah, as she 
 marked the flashes of pride gleaming out here and there, 
 and showing themselves in the resentful manner with 
 which she spurned the thought of now being the doctor's 
 wife, except it were for Willie. 
 
 .Poor Willie ! He was there in the bed, looking curious 
 ly at the four women, none of whom seemed quite 
 willing to own him, save Anna. Her heart took him in at 
 once. He had been given to her. She would be faithful 
 to the trust, and folding him in her arms, she cried softly 
 over him, kissing his little face and calling him her dar 
 ling. 
 
278 HUGH WOliTHINGTON. 
 
 " Anna, how can you fondle such as he ? " Eudora asked, 
 rather sharply, for her nature was the hardest, coldest of 
 them all, and rebelled against the innocent boy. 
 
 " He is our brother's child. Our blood is in his veins, 
 and that is why we all must love him. Mother, you will 
 not turn from your grandson," and Anna held the boy 
 toward her mother, who did not refuse to take him. 
 
 Asenath always went with her mother, and at once 
 showed signs of relenting by laying her hand on Willie's 
 head and calling him "poor boy." Eudora held out 
 longer, but Anna knew she w r ould yield in time, and 
 satisfied with Willie's reception so far, went on to speak 
 of Adah. Where was she, did they suppose, and what 
 were the best means of finding her. 
 
 At this Mrs. Richards demurred, as did Asenath with 
 her. 
 
 " Adah was gone, and they had better let her go 
 quietly. She was nothing to them, and if they took 
 Willie, it was all that could be required of them. Had 
 Adah been John's wife, it would of course be different, 
 but she was not, and his marriage with 'Lina must not 
 now be prevented. Neither must any one save themselves 
 and John ever know who Willie was. It was not neces 
 sary to bruit their affairs abroad. It was very wicked 
 and bad in John, of course, but other young men were as 
 bad." 
 
 This was Mrs. Richards' reasoning, but Anna's was 
 different. 
 
 " John had distinctly said, ' I married Lily, and she 
 died.' Adah was mistaken about the marriage being un 
 lawful. It was a falsehood he told her. She was his 
 wife, and he must not be permitted to commit bigamy. 
 He loved Lily far better than he did 'Lina. He would 
 move heaven and earth to find her, did he know that she 
 was living. And he should know of it. She was going to 
 Kentucky herself to tell him. She would not trust to 
 
EXCITEMENT. 279 
 
 the telegraph, and should start that very night. There 
 would be no scene. She would only tell John in private. 
 They need not try to dissuade her, for she should go." 
 
 This was what Anna said, and all in vain were her 
 mother's entreaties to let matters take their course. An 
 na only replied by going deliberately on with the prepa 
 rations for her sudden journey, pausing now and then to 
 dream a moment over her own new happiness, taking the 
 letter from her bosom and whispering, " Dear Charlie," 
 and then as Willie cried for his mother, she essayed to 
 quiet him, hugging him in her arms and mingling her 
 own tears with his. The servants were told that Mrs. 
 Hastings had run away, Eudora, the informer, hinting of 
 insanity, and so this accounted for the sudden interest 
 manifested for Willie by the other ladies, who had him 
 in at their breakfast, and kept him with them in the par- 
 loi, in spite of Pamelia's endeavors to coax him away. 
 This accounted, too, for Anna's journey. She was going 
 to iind Adah, and blessing her for this kindness to one 
 whom they had liked so much, Dixson and Pamelia 
 helped to get her ready, both promising the best of care 
 to Willie in her absence, both asking where she was 
 going first, and both receiving the same answer, " To Al 
 bany." 
 
 Mrs. Richards was too much stunned clearly to com 
 prehend what had happened or what would be the re 
 sult ; and in a kind of apathetic maze she bade Anna 
 good-bye, and then went back to where Willie sat upon 
 the sofa, examining and occasionally tearing the costly 
 book of foreign prints which had been given him to 
 keep him still and make him cease his piteous wail for 
 " mam-ma." It seemed like a dream to the three ladies 
 sitting at home that night and talking about Anna ; won 
 dering that a person of her weak nerves and feeble health 
 should suddenly become so active, so energetic, so deci 
 ded, and of her own accord start off on a long journey 
 alone and unprotected. 
 
280 HUGH WOKTIIINGTON. 
 
 And Anna wondered at herself when the excitement 
 of leaving was past, and the train was bearing her swiftly 
 along on her mission of duty. She had written a few 
 lines to Charlie Millbrook, telling him of her unaltered 
 love, and bidding him come to her in three weeks time, 
 when she would be ready to see him. She had unselfish 
 ly put the interview off thus long because she did not 
 know what might occur in the interim, and when he 
 came she wished to be quiet and free from all excitement. 
 She had herself dropped the letter in the post-office as 
 she came down to the depot. She knew it was safe, and 
 leaning back in her seat in the car she felt a happy 
 peace which nothing could disturb, not even thoughts of 
 Adah Lily she called her wandering she knew not 
 where. 
 
 It was very dark and rainy, and the passengers jostled 
 each other rudely as they passed from the cars in Albany 
 and hurried to the boat. It was new business to Anna, 
 traveling alone and in the night, and a feeling akin to 
 fear was creeping over her as she wondered where she 
 should find the eastern train. 
 
 "Follow the crowd," seemed yelled out for her benefit, 
 though it was really intended for a timid, deaf old lady, 
 who had anxiously asked what to do of one whose laco 
 nic' reply was, " Follow the crowd." And Anna did fol 
 low the crowd, which led her safely to the waiting cars. 
 Snugly enconsced in a seat all to herself, she vainly im 
 agined there was no more trouble until Cleveland, or 
 Buffalo at least, was reached. How, then, was she disap 
 pointed when, alighting for a moment at Rochester, she 
 found herself in a worse Babel, if possible, than had ex 
 isted at Albany. Where were all these folks going, and 
 which was the train. " I ought not to have alighted at 
 all," she thought ; " I might have known I never could 
 find my way back." Never, sure, was poor, little woman 
 so confused and bewildered as Anna, and it is not strange 
 
EXCITEMENT. 281 
 
 that she stood directly upon the track, unmindful of the 
 increasing din and roar as the train from Niagara Falls 
 came thundering into the depot. It was in vain that the 
 cabman nearest to her halloed to warn her of the im 
 pending danger. She never dreamed that they meant her, 
 or suspected her great peril, until from out the group 
 waiting to take that very train, a tall figure sprang, and 
 grasping her light form round the waist, bore her to a 
 place of safety not because he guessed that it was An 
 nie, but because it was a human being whom he would 
 save from a fearful death. 
 
 " Excuse me, madam," he began, as with the long train 
 between them and the people, they stood comparatively 
 alone, but whatever she might have said was lost in the 
 low, thrilling scream of joy with which Anna recognized 
 him. 
 
 " Charlie, Charlie I oh, Charlie ! " she cried, burying her 
 face in his bosom and sobbing like a child. 
 
 There was no time to waste in explanations ; scarcely 
 time, indeed, for Charlie to ask where she was going, and 
 if the necessity to go on were imperative. If her arrange 
 ments could not bend to his, why his must bend to hers, 
 and unmindful of the audience away to the eastward 
 who would that night wait in vain for the appearance of 
 Mr. Millbrook, the returned missionary, Charlie wound his 
 arm around the half fainting form, dearer than his own 
 life, and carried rather than led her to a seat in the car 
 just on the point of rolling from the depot. 
 
 " You won't leave me," Anna whispered, clinging closer 
 to him, as she remembered how improbable it was that 
 he was going the same way with herself. 
 
 " Leave you, darling ? no," and pressing the little fin 
 gers twining so lovingly about his own, Charlie replied, 
 "I'shall not leave you again." 
 
 He needed no words to tell him of her unaltered love, 
 and satisfied to have her at last, he drew her closely to 
 
282 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 him, and laying her tired head upon his bosom, gazed 
 fondly at the face he had not seen in many years. That 
 dear face he had once thought so beautiful and had 
 dreamed about so often, even when another was sleep 
 ing at his side, was it changed ? Yes, slightly. The 
 fresh, girlish bloom of only eighteen summers was gone, 
 but Anna wore her thirty-three years lightlyj and if 
 possible, the maturer face was more beautiful to Char 
 lie than the laughing maiden's had been, for he traced 
 on it unmistakable marks of that peace which Anna had 
 found in her later life ; and without questioning her at 
 all, Charlie Millbrook knew his darling Anna had chosen 
 the better part, and that in the next world -she would 
 be his, even as he hoped to call her his own for the re 
 mainder of his sojourn on earth. Curious, tittering maid 
 ens, of whom there are usually one or two in every car, 
 looked at that couple near the door and whispered to their 
 companions, 
 
 " Bride and groom. Just see how he hugs her. Some 
 widower, I know, married to a young wife." 
 
 But neither Charlie nor Anna cared for the speculations 
 to which they were giving rise. They had found each 
 other, and the happiness enjoyed during the two hours 
 which elapsed ere Buffalo was reached, more than made 
 amends for all the lonely years of wretchedness they had 
 spent apart from each other. Charlie had told Anna brief 
 ly of his life in India had spoken feelingly, affectionate 
 ly, of his gentle Hattie, who had died, blessing him with 
 her last breath for the kindness he had ever shown to her; 
 of baby Annie's grave, by the side of which he buried 
 the young mother ; of his loneliness after that, his failing 
 health, his yearning for a sight of home, his embarkation 
 for America, his hope through all that she might still be 
 won ; and his letter which she received. And then Anna 
 told him where she was going, sparing her brother as much 
 as possible, and dwelling long upon poor Lily's gentleness 
 and beauty. 
 
MATTERS AT SPRING BANK. 283 
 
 So it was settled that Charley should go with her, and 
 his presence made her far less impatient than she would 
 otherwise have been, when, owing to some accident, they 
 were delayed so long that the Cleveland train was gone, 
 and there was no alternative but to wait in Buffalo. At 
 Cincinnati there was another detention, and it was not 
 until the very day appointed for the wedding that, with 
 Charlie still beside her, Anna entered the carriage hired 
 at Lexington, and started for Spring Bank, whither for a 
 little we will precede her, taking up the narrative prior to 
 this day, and about the time when 'Lina first returned 
 home from New York, laden with arrogance and airs. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 MATTERS AT SPRING BANK. 
 
 It had been a bright, pleasant day in March, when 'Lina 
 was expected home, and in honor of her arrival the house 
 at Spring Bank wore its most cheery aspect; not that any 
 one was particularly pleased because she was coming, un 
 less it were the mother ; but it was still an event of some 
 importance, and so the negroes cleaned and scrubbed and 
 scoured, wondering if " Miss 'Lina done fotch 'em anything," 
 while Alice arranged and re-arranged the plainly-furnished 
 rooms, feeling beforehand how the contrast between them 
 and the elegancies to which 'Lina had recently been ac 
 customed, would affect her. 
 
 Hugh had thought of the same thing, and much as it 
 hurt him to do it, he sold one of his pet colts, and giv 
 ing the proceeds to Alice, bade her use it as she saw fit. 
 
 It was astonishing how far Alice made the hundred 
 dollars go. Hugh had no idea it would buy so much, and 
 in blissful ignorance that Alice herself had supplied many 
 
284 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 articles from her own funds, he assisted in nailing down 
 carpets and oil-cloths, and putting up , curtains, while he 
 even ventured to try his hand at painting, succeeding ad 
 mirably, but spoiling an entire suit of clothes, and leaving 
 more than one mark of his brush on Alice's black dress. 
 Spring Bank had never looked one-half so well before, and 
 the negroes were positive there was no where to be found 
 so handsonie a room as the large airy parlor, with its new 
 Brussels carpet and curtains of worsted brocatelle. 
 
 Even Hugh was somewhat of the same opinion, but 
 then he only looked at the room with Alice standing in 
 its centre, so it is not strange that he should judge it favor 
 ably. Ad, would be pleased, he knew, and he gave or 
 ders that the carriage and harness should be thoroughly 
 cleaned, and the horses well groomed, for he would make 
 a good impression upon his sister. 
 
 Alas, she was not worth the trouble, the proud, selfish 
 creature, who, all the way from Lexington to the Big 
 Spring station had been hoping Hugh would not take it 
 into his head to meet her, or if he did, that he would not 
 have on his homespun suit of grey, with his pants tucked 
 in his boots, and so disgrace her in the eyes of Mr. and 
 Mrs. Ford, her traveling companions, who would see him 
 from the window. ' Yes, there he was, standing expectant 
 ly upon the platform, and she turned her head the other 
 way, pretending not to see him until the train moved on, 
 and Hugh compelled her notice by grasping her hand and 
 calling her " sister 'Lina," 
 
 She had acquired a certain city air by her sojourn in 
 "New York, and in her fashionably made traveling dress 
 and hat was far more stylish looking than when Hugh 
 last parted from her. But nothing abashed he held her 
 hand a moment while he inquired about her journey, and 
 then playfully added, 
 
 " Upon my word, Ad, j r ou have improved a heap, in 
 looks I mean. Of course^I don't know about the temper. 
 
MATTERS AT SPRING BANK. 285 
 
 Spunky as ever, eh ?" and he tried to pinch her glowing 
 cheek. 
 
 " Pray don't be foolish," was 'Lina's impatient reply, as 
 she drew away from him, and turned, with her blandest 
 smile, to a sprig of a lawyer from Frankfort, who chanced 
 to be there too. 
 
 Chilled by her manner, Hugh ordered the carriage, and 
 told her they were ready. Once alone with him, 'Lina's 
 tongue was loosened, and she poured out numberless 
 questions, the first of which was, " What they heard from 
 Adah, and if it were true, as her mother had written, that 
 no one at Terrace Hill knew of her- acquaintance with 
 Spring Bank." 
 
 u Yes, he supposed it was," and he did not like it either. 
 Ad," and he turned his honest face full toward her, " does 
 that doctor still believe you rich ? " 
 
 " How do I know ? " 'Lina replied, frowning gloomily. 
 " I'm not to blame if he does. I never told him I was." 
 
 " But your actions implied as much, which amounts to 
 the same thing. It's all wrong, Ad, all wrong. Even if 
 he loves you, and it is to be hoped he does, he will respect 
 you less when he knows how you deceived him." 
 
 " Hadn't you better interfere and set the matter right ?" 
 asked 'Lina, now really roused. 
 
 " I did think of doing so once," Hugh rejoined, but ere 
 he could say more, 'Lina grasped his arm fiercely, her face 
 dark with passion as she exclaimed, 
 
 " Hugh, if you meddle, you'll rue the day. It's my own 
 afiair, and I know what I'm doing." 
 
 She was very angry, and her black eyes fairly blazed as 
 they glanced at Hugh, who once would have returned her 
 scorn for scoin. But Hugh was learning to govern his hot 
 temper. The diamond was polishing; besides that, he 
 would not quarrel with her on this first day of her re 
 turn, so he answered in the same kind tone of voice he 
 had assumed toward her. 
 
286 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 " I do not intend to meddle, though I encouraged Adah 
 in her wild plan of going to Terrace Hill, because I thought 
 they would learn from her just how rich we are. But 
 Adah foolishly says nothing of Spring Bank. I don't like 
 it, neither does Miss Johnson. Indeed, I sometimes think 
 she is more anxious than I am." 
 
 " Miss Johnson," and 'Lina spoke disdainfully, " I'd 
 thank her to mind her own business. She's only jealous 
 and wants the doctor herself." 
 
 Hugh made her no reply, and they proceeded on in 
 silence, until they came in sight of Spring Bank, when 
 'Lina broke out afresh, 
 
 " Such a tumble-down shanty as that ! It was not fit for 
 decent people to live in, and mercy knew she was glad her 
 sojourn there was to be short." 
 
 " You are not alone in that feeling," came dryly from 
 Hugh, who could not forbear that remark. 
 
 'Lina said he was a very affectionate brother ; that she 
 was glad there were those who appreciated her, even if 
 he did not, and then the carriage stopped at Spring Bank, 
 where the family stood waiting for her upon the long 
 piazza. Mrs. Worthington was hearty in her welcome, for 
 her mother heart went out warmly towards her daughter, 
 who, as bride-elect of a Richards, was, in her estimation, a 
 creature of more importance than plain 'Lina had been, 
 with nothing in prospect. Oh, what airs 'Lina did put on, 
 and what pains she took to appear eityfied, merely noticing 
 the expectant negroes with a " how dye," offering the tips 
 of her fingers to good Aunt Eunice, trying to patronize 
 Alice herself, and only noticing Densie Densmore with a 
 haughty stare. 
 
 "Upon my word," 'Lina began, as she entered the 
 pleasant parlor, " this is better than I expected. Some 
 body has been very kind for my sake. Miss Johnson, I am 
 sure it's you I have to thank," and with a little flush of 
 gratitude she turned to Alice, who replied in a low tone, 
 
MATTERS AT SPRING BANK. 287 
 
 " Thank your brother. He made a sacrifice for the sake 
 of surprising you." 
 
 Whether it was a desire to appear amiable in Alice's 
 eyes, or because she really was touched with Hugh's gen 
 erosity, 'Lina involuntarily threw her arm around his 
 neck, and gave to him a kiss which he remembered for a 
 long, long time. 
 
 Swiftly the days went by, bringing callers to see 'Lina, 
 Ellen Tiffton, who received back her jewelry, and who 
 was to be bridesmaid, inasmuch as Alice preferred to be 
 more at liberty, and see that matters went on properly. 
 This brought Ellen often to Spring Bank, and as 'Lina 
 was much with her, Alice was left more time to think. 
 Adah's continued silence with regard to Dr. Richards had 
 troubled her at first, but now she felt relieved. 'Lina 
 had stated distinctly that ere coming to Kentucky he was 
 going to Terrace Hill, and Adah's last letter had said the 
 same. She would see him then, and if he were George 
 alas, for the unsuspecting girl who fluttered gaily 
 in the midst of her bridal finery, and wished the time 
 would come when "she could escape from that hole, and 
 go back to dear, delightful Fifth Avenue Hotel." 
 
 The time which hung so heavily upon her hands was 
 flying rapidly, and at last only a week intervened ere the 
 eventful day. Hugh had gone down to Frankfort on an 
 errand to the dressmaker's for 'Lina, and finding that he 
 must wait some time, it occurred to him tovisit the Peni 
 tentiary, where he had not been for a long time. The 
 keeper, a personal friend of Hugh's, expressed much 
 pleasure at meeting him, and after a moment, said laugh 
 ingly, 
 
 " We have no lions to show just now, unless it be Sul 
 livan, the negro stealer. You have never seen him, I think, 
 since he was sent to us. You know whom I mean, the 
 man who ran off Uncle Sam." 
 
 Yes, Hugh knew, but he was not especially interested 
 
288 HUGH WORTHHSrGTON. 
 
 in him. Still he followed the keeper, who said that Sul 
 livan's time expired in a few days. 
 
 " We'll find him on the rope-walk," he continued. " We 
 put our hardest customers there. Not that he gives us 
 trouble, for he does not, and I rather like the chap, but 
 we have a spite against these Yankee negro-stealers," and 
 he led the way to the long low room, where groups of 
 men walked up and down up and down holding the 
 long line of hemp, which, as far aa they were concerned, 
 would never come to an end until the day of their re 
 lease. 
 
 " That's he," the keeper whispered to Hugh, " The one 
 with that mark upon his forehead," and he pointed to one 
 of the convicts advancing slowly towards them. 
 
 With a start and a shudder Hugh grew cold and sick, 
 for it needed but a glance to assure him that he stood in 
 the presence of Adah's guardian, whose sudden disappear 
 ance had been so mysterious. Hugh never knew how he 
 kept himself from leaping into that walk and compelling 
 him to tell if he knew anything of Willie Hastings' father. 
 Pie did, indeed, take one forward step, but the next mo 
 ment he controlled himself as he remembered where he 
 was, and knew it was no place for a scene. " But I must 
 see him," he thought, " I must talk with him and compel 
 him to tell me what he knows of Adah Hastings." 
 
 Hastily quitting the spot, he explained to the keeper 
 that there was a particular reason for his talking with 
 Sullivan, and asked permission to do so. At first the 
 keeper hesitated, but finally consented, and an hour later, 
 when the convicts left their work, Hugh Worthington 
 was confronting the famous negro-stealer, who gave him 
 back glance for glance, and stood unflinchingly before him 
 as if there were upon his conscience no Adah Hastings, 
 who, by his connivance, had been so terribly wronged. 
 At the mention of her name, however, his bold assurance 
 left him. There was a quivering of the muscles about 
 
MATTERS. AT SPRING BANK. 289 
 
 his mouth, a humid moisture upon his eyelids, and .his 
 whole manner was indicative of strong emotion as he ask 
 ed if Hugh knew aught of her, and then listened while 
 Hugh told what he knew, and where she had gone. 
 
 " To Terrace Hill into the Richards family, this was 
 no chance arrangement," and the convict spoke huskily^ 
 asking next for the doctor, was he at home ? had he met 
 Adah yet? and still Hugh did not suspect the magnitude 
 of the plot, and answered by telling how Dr. Richards 
 was coming soon to make 'Lina his wife. 
 
 Hugh was not looking at his companion then, or he 
 would have been appalled by the fearful expression which 
 for an instant flashed on his face, and then quickly passed 
 away, leaving there a look of terror ami concern. Accus 
 tomed to conceal his feelings, the convict did so now, and 
 asked calmly when the wedding would take place. 
 Hugh named the -day and hour, and then asked impatient 
 ly, if Sullivan knew aught of Adah's husband. 
 
 " Yes, everything," and the convict spoke vehemently, 
 for he, too, saw the keeper consult his watch, and knew 
 that he must hasten. 
 
 " Young man, I cannot tell you now there is not time^ 
 but wait and you shall know the whole. You are inter 
 ested in Adah. You have been kind to her. You never 
 will be sorry. The wedding, you say, is Thursday night. 
 My time expires on Wednesday. 
 
 "Don't say that you have seen me, or that I shall be 
 present at that wedding. I shall only come for good, but 
 I shall surely be there." 
 
 IJe wrung Hugh's hand and went to his lonely cell, while 
 Hugh turned away, haunted by some presentiment of evil, 
 and hearing continually the words, fraught with far more 
 meaning than he supposed, " I shall surely be there." 
 13 
 
290 HUGH WOKTHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE DAT OP THE WEDDING. 
 
 Dr. Richards had arrived at Spring Bank. He, too, 
 had been detained in Cincinnati, and did not reach his 
 destination until late on Wednesday evening. Hugh was 
 the first to meet him, for Alice had retired, and 'Lina had 
 fled from the room at the first sound of the voice she had 
 been so anxiously waiting for. For a moment Hugh scru 
 tinized the stranger's face earnestly, and then asked if they 
 had never met before. 
 
 " Not to my knowledge," the doctor replied in perfect 
 good faith, for he had no suspicion that the man eyeing 
 him so closely was the one witness of his marriage with 
 Adah, the stranger whom he scarcely noticed, and whose 
 name he had forgotten. 
 
 Once fully in the light, where Hugh could discern the 
 features plainer, he began to be less sure of having met 
 his guest before, for that immense mustache and those 
 well-trimmed whiskers, had changed the doctor's physi 
 ognomy materially. 
 
 'Lina now came stealing in, affecting such a pretty coy 
 ness of manner, that Hugh felt like roaring with laughter 
 and ere long hurried out where he could indulge his mer 
 riment. 
 
 'Lina was glad to see the doctor. She had even cried 
 at his delay ; and though no one knew it, had sat up nearly 
 the whole preceding night, waiting and listening by .her 
 open window for any sound to herald his approach, and 
 once she had stolen out with her thin slippers into the 
 yard, standing on the damp ground a long time, and only 
 returning to the house when she felt a chill creeping over 
 her, and knew she was taking cold. 
 
 As the result of this long vigil, her head ached dread- 
 
TETE PAT OF THE WEDDING. 291 
 
 fully the next day, and even the doctor noticed her burn 
 ing cheeks and watery eyes, and feeling her rapid pulse, 
 asked if she were ill. 
 
 She was not, she said; she had only been troubled, 
 because he did not come, and then for once in her life she 
 did a womanly act. She laid her head in the doctor's lap 
 and cried, just as she had done the previous night. He 
 understood the cause of her tears at last, and touched with 
 a greater degree of tenderness for her than he had ever 
 before experienced, he smoothed her glossy black hair, and 
 asked, 
 
 " Would you be very sorry to lose me ? " 
 
 Selfish and hard as she was, 'Lina loved the doctor, and 
 with a shudder as she thought of the deception imposed 
 on him, and a half regret that she had so deceived him, 
 she replied, 
 
 " I am not worthy of you, but I do love you very much, 
 and it would kill me to lose you now. Promise that 
 when you find, as you will, how bad I am, you will not 
 hate me ! " 
 
 It was an attempt at confession, but the doctor did not 
 so construe it. Whatever her errors were, his, he knew, 
 were tenfold greater, and so he continued smoothing her 
 hair, while he tried to say the words of affection he knew 
 she was waiting to hear. 
 
 It was very dark that night, and the doctor received 
 only a vague idea of Spring Bank and its surroundings, 
 and that did not impress him as grandly as he had thought 
 it would. But then, he reflected that Southerners were 
 not as noted for fine houses as Northerners were, and so 
 felt secure as yet, wondering whfch of the negroes he had 
 seen belonged to 'Lina, and which to Hugh. He knew 
 Lulu was not to accompany his w T ife to Terrace Hill, for 
 'Lina had told him so, saying that in the present state of 
 excited feeling she did not think it best to take a negro 
 slave to New England. He knew, too, that nothing had 
 
292 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 been said about money or lands coming to him with his 
 bride, but he took it all on trust, and looked rather 
 complacently around the prettily furnished chamber to 
 which, at a late hour, he was conducted by Hugh. 
 
 The bright sunlight of the next morning' was very ex 
 hilarating, and though the doctor was disappointed in 
 Spring Bank, he greeted his bride elect kindly, noticing, 
 w r hile he did so, how her cheeks alternately paled, and 
 then grew red, while she seemed to be chilly and cold. 
 'Lina had passed a wretched night, tossing from side to 
 side, bathing her throbbing head and rubbing her aching 
 limbs. The severe cold taken in the wet yard was making 
 itself visible, and she came to the breakfast-table jaded 
 wretched and sick, a striking contrast to Alice Johnson, 
 who seemed to the doctor more beautiful than even She 
 was unusually gay this morning, for while talking to Dr. 
 Richards, whom she had met in the parlor, she had, among 
 other things concerning Snowdon, said to him, casually, as 
 it seemed, 
 
 "Anna has a waiting-maid at last. You saw her, of 
 course ? " 
 
 Somehow the doctor fancied Alice wished him to say 
 yes, and as a falsehood was nothing for him, he replied at 
 once, 
 
 " Oh, yes, I saw her. Her little boy is splendid." 
 
 Alice was satisfied. The shadow lifted from her spirits. 
 Dr. Richards was not George Hastings. He was not the 
 villain she had feared, and 'Lina might have him now. 
 Poor 'Lina! Alice felt almost as if she had done her a 
 wrong by suspecting the doctor, and was very kind to her 
 that day. Poor 'Lina ! we say it again, for hard, and 
 wicked, and treacherous, and unfilial, as she had ever been, 
 she had need for pity on this her wedding-day. Retri 
 bution, terrible an'd crushing, was at hand, hurrying on in 
 the carriage bringing Anna Richards to Spring Bank, and 
 on the fleet-footed steed bearing the convict swiftly up 
 the Frankfort 'pike. 
 
THE DAY OF THE WEDDING. 293 
 
 Restless and impatient 'Lina wandered from room to 
 room, stopping longest in the one where lay the bridal 
 dress, at which she gazed wistfully, feeling almost as if it. 
 were her shroud. She could not tell what ailed her. She 
 only knew that she felt wretchedly, as if some direful ca 
 lamity were about to overtake her, and more than once 
 her eyes filled with tears as she wished her path to Dr. 
 Richards' name had been marked with no deception. 
 He was now in his room, and it was almost time for her 
 to dress. Lulu might begin to arrange her hair, and she 
 called her just as the mud-bespattered vehicle containing 
 Anna Richards drove up, Mr. Millbrook having purpose 
 ly stopped in Versailles, thinking it better that Anna 
 should go on alone. 
 
 It was Ellen Tiffton, who was to come early, 'Lina 
 said, and so the dressing continued, and she was all un 
 suspicious of the scone enacting below, in the room 
 where Anna met her brother alone. She had not given 
 Plugh her name. She simply asked for Dr. Richards, and 
 conducting her into the parlor, hung with bridal decora 
 tions, Hugh went for the doctor, saying, " a lady wished 
 to see him." 
 
 "A lady! "Who is it?" the doctor asked, visions of 
 his aggrieved mother, in her black silk velvet, rising be 
 fore his mind. " What could a lady and a stranger want 
 of him?" 
 
 Mechanically he took his way to the parlor, while 
 Hugh resumed his seat by the window, where for the 
 last hour he had watched for the coming of one who had 
 said, " I will be there." 
 
 Half an hour later, had he looked into the parlor, he 
 would have seen a frightened, white-faced man, crouch 
 ing at Anna Richards' side and whispering to her as if 
 all life, all strength, all power to act for himself, were 
 gone. 
 
 " What must I do ? Tell me what to do." 
 
 She had given him no time for questioning, but hand- 
 
294 HUGH WOBTHINGTON. 
 
 ing him Adah's letter, had bidden him read it through, 
 as that would explain her presence at Spring Bank. 
 One glance at the hand-writing, and the doctor turned 
 white as marble. " Could it be ? Had Lily come back 
 to life ? " he asked himself, and then eagerly, rapidly, he 
 read the first two pages, every word burning into his 
 heart and bewildering his brain. But when he came to 
 the line, " 1 am Lily, and Willie is your brother's child" 
 sight and sense seemed failing him, and tottering to his 
 sister, sternly regarding him, he gasped, " Oh, Anna, read 
 for me. I can't see any more it runs together, and I 
 I'm going to faint ! " 
 
 " No, you are not. You must not faint ; you shall 
 not," Anna exclaimed, shaking him energetically and ap 
 plying to his nostrils the bottle of strong hartshorn she 
 had procured in Versailles for just such an emergency as 
 this. 
 
 The odor half strangled him, but Anna's object was at 
 tained. He did not faint, but sat like an idiotic thing, 
 listening while she read the letter through, and demanded 
 if it were true. Was it Adah Gordon whom he desert 
 ed, and was it a mock marriage? She would have the 
 truth, and he had no desire to conceal it\ 
 
 " Yes, true all true but I thought she was dead. 
 I did, Anna. Oh, Lily, where is she now ? I'm going 
 to " 
 
 " Sit down," Anna said, imperatively ; and with all the 
 air of an imbecile he crouched at her feet, asking what 
 he should do. 
 
 This was a puzzle to Anna, and she replied by asking 
 him another question. "Do you love 'Lina Worthing- 
 ton ? " 
 
 "I I no, I guess I don't ; but she's rich, and " 
 
 With a motion of disgust Anna cut him short, saying, 
 "Don't make me despise you more than I do. Until 
 your lips confessed it, I had faith that Lily was mistaken, 
 
JTHE DAY OF THE WEDDING. 295 
 
 that your marriage was honorable, at least, even if you 
 tired of it afterward. You are worse than I supposed^ 
 and now you speak of money. "What shall you do ? Get 
 up, and not sit whining at my feet like a puppy. Find 
 Lily, of course, and if she will stoop to listen a second 
 time to your suit, make her your wife, working to sup 
 port her until your hands are blistered, if need be." 
 
 Anna hardly knew herself in this phase of her charac 
 ter, and her brother certainly did not. 
 
 " Don't be hard on me, Anna," he said, " I'll do what 
 you say, only don't be hard. It's come so sudden, that 
 my head is like a whirlpool. Lily, Willie, Willie. The 
 child I saw, you mean yes, the child I saw did 
 it say he was my -r- boy?" 
 
 The words were thick and far apart. The head droop 
 ed lower and lower, the color all left the lips, and in spite 
 of Anna's vigorous shakes, or still more vigorous harts, 
 horn, overtaxed nature gave way, and the doctor fainted 
 at last. It was Anna's turn now to wonder what she 
 should do, and she was about summoning aid from some 
 quarter when the door opened suddenly, and Hugh ush 
 ered in a stranger the convict, who had kept his word, 
 and came to tell what he knew of this complicated mys 
 tery. No one had seen him as he entered the house but 
 Hugh, who was expecting him, and who, in reply to his 
 inquiries for the doctor, told where he was, and that a 
 stranger was with him. There was a low,, hurried conver 
 sation between the two, a partial revelation of the busi 
 ness which had brought Sullivan there, and at its close 
 Hugh's face was deadly white, for he knew now that he 
 had met Dr. Richards before, and that 'Lina could not be 
 his wife. 
 
 " The villain ! " he muttered, involuntarily clenching his 
 fist as if to smite the dastard as he followed Sullivan into 
 the parlor, starting back when he saw the prostrate form 
 upon the floor, and heard the lady say, "My brother, sir, 
 has fainted." 
 
296 HUGH WORTHINGTCXN". 
 
 She was Anna, then ; and Hugh guessed rightly why 
 she was there. 
 
 " Madame," he began, but ere another word was uttered, 
 there fell upon his ear a shriek which seemed to cleave the 
 very air and made even the fainting man move in his un 
 consciousness. 
 
 It was Mrs. Worthington who, with hands outstretched, 
 as if to keep him off, stood upon the threshold, gazing in 
 mute terror at the horror of her life, whispering incoher 
 ently, "What is it, Hugh? How came he here ? Save 
 me, save me from him ! " 
 
 " A look, half of sorrow, half of contempt, flitted across 
 the stranger's face as he answered for Hugh kindly, gently, 
 4< Is the very sight of me so terrible to you, Eliza? Be 
 lieve me, you have nothing to fear. I am only here to 
 set matters right to make amends for the past, so far as 
 possible. Here for our daughter's sake." 
 
 He had drawn nearer to her as he said this last, but she 
 intuitively turned to Hugh, who started suddenly, grow 
 ing white and faint as a suspicion of the truth flashed up 
 on him. 
 
 "Mother? " he began, interrogatively, winding his arm 
 about her, for she was the weaker of the two. 
 
 She knew what he would ask, and with her eye still upon 
 the man who fascinated her gaze,,she answered, sadly, 
 " Forgive me, Hugh, I thought he was dead. The paper 
 said so, with all the particulars. Forgive me. He was 
 my husband ; he is 'Lina's father, not yours, Hugh, 
 oh, Heaven be praised, not yours ! " and she clung closely 
 to her boy, as if glad one child, at least, was not tainted 
 with the Murdoch blood. 
 
 The convict smiled bitterly, and said to Hugh himself, 
 
 " Your mother is right. She was once my wife, but the 
 law set her free from the galling chain. I have had a 
 variety of names in my life ; so many, indeed, that I hard 
 ly know which is my real one. 
 
THE DAY OF THE WEDDING. 297 
 
 He was perfectly cool, but his face showed the effort it 
 was to be so, while his black eyes rolled restlessly from 
 one object to another, and he was about to speak again 
 when Alice came tripping down the stairs, and pausing at 
 the parlor door, looked in. 
 
 " Anna Richards ! " she exclaimed, but uttered no other 
 sound for the terror of something terrible, which kept her 
 silent. 
 
 It was no ordinary matter which had brought that group 
 together, and she stood looking from one to the other, 
 until the convict said, 
 
 " Young lady, you cannot be the bride, but will you 
 call her, tell her she is wanted." 
 
 Alice never knew what she said to 'Lina. She was only 
 conscious of following her down the stairs and into that 
 dreadful room. Sullivan was watching for her, and the 
 muscles about his mouth twitched convulsively, while a 
 shadow of mingled pity and tenderness swept over his 
 features as his eye fell on the girlish figure behind her, 
 'Lina, with the orange blossoms in her hair 'Lina almost 
 ready for the bridal ! 
 
 For an instant the convict regarded her intently, and 
 there was something in his glance which brought Hugh 
 at once to 'Lina, where, with his arm upon her chair, he 
 stood as if he would protect her. Noble Hugh ! 'Lina 
 never knew one-half how good and generous he was until 
 just as she was losing him. 
 
 Dr. Richards was restored by this time,- and looked on 
 those around him in utter astonishment ; on Mrs. Wor- 
 thington crouched in the farthest corner, her face as white 
 as ashes, and her eyes riveted upon the figure of the man 
 standing in the center of the room ; on 'Lina, terrified 
 at what she saw ; on Anna, more perplexed, more astonish 
 ed than himself, and on Hugh, towering up so commanding- 
 ly above the whole, and demanding of the convict the 
 explanation which he had come to make. 
 13* 
 
298 HUGH WORTniNGTON. 
 
 There was a moment's hesitancy, and his face flushed 
 and paled alternately ere the convict could summon cour 
 age -to begin. 
 
 " Take this seat, sir, you need it," Hugh said, bringing 
 him a chair and then resuming his watch over 'Lina, who 
 involuntarily leaned her throbbing head upon his arm, 
 and with the others listened to that strange tale of sin. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 " It is not an easy task to confess how bad one has been," 
 the stranger said, "and once no power could have tempt 
 ed me to do it ; but several years of prison life have 
 taught me some wholesome lessons, and I am not the same 
 man I was when I met you, Eliza, (bowing to Mrs. 
 Worthington) and won your hand if not your heart. 
 But previous to that time there was a passage of my life 
 which I must now repeat. At my boarding house in 
 New York there was a young girl, a chamber-maid, whom 
 I deceived with promises of marriage and then deserted, 
 just when she needed me the most. I had found new 
 prey, was on the eve of marriage with Mrs. Eliza Worth 
 ington. I " 
 
 The story was interrupted at this point by a cry from 
 'Lina, who moaned, 
 
 " No, no, oh no ! He is not my father ; is he, Hugh ? 
 Tell me no. John, Dr. Richards, pray look at me and 
 say it's all a dream, a dreadful dream ! Oh, Hugh ! " and 
 to the brother, scorned so often, poor 'Lina turned for 
 sympathy, while the stranger continued, 
 
 " It would be useless for me to say now that I loved 
 the girl, for I did not ; but I felt sorry for her, and when 
 
THE DAT OF THE WEDDING. 299 
 
 six months after my marriage I heard that I was a father, 
 I feigned an excuse and left my wife for a few weeks. 
 Eliza, you remember I said I had business in New York, 
 and so I had. I went to this young girl, finding her in a 
 low, wretched garret, with her baby in her arms, and a 
 look on her face which told me she had not long to live. 
 I staid by her till she died, promising to care for her 
 child and mine. I had a mother then, a woman, old and 
 infirm, and good, even if I was her son. To her I went 
 in my trouble, asking that she would care for the help 
 less thing to which I gave the name Matilda. Mother 
 did not refuse, and leaving the baby in her charge I came 
 back to my lawful wife. 
 
 " In course of time there was a daughter born to me 
 and to Eliza ; a sweet brown-haired, brown-eyed girl, 
 whom we named Adaline? 
 
 Instinctively, every one in that room glanced at the 
 black eyes and hair of 'Lina, marvelling at the change. 
 
 " I loved this little girl, as it was natural I should, 
 more than I loved tlie other, and after she was born I 
 tried to be a better man, but could not hold out long, 
 and at last there came a separation. Eliza would not 
 live with me and I w r ent away, but pined so for my child, 
 that I contrived to steal her, and carried her to my moth 
 er, where was the other one." 
 
 'Lina's eyes were dark as midnight, while she listened 
 breathlessly to this mysterious page of her existence. 
 
 " My mother was very old and she died suddenly, leav 
 ing me alone with my two girls. I could not attend to 
 them both, and so I sent one to Eliza, and kept the oth 
 er myself, hiring a housekeeper, and because it suited my 
 fancy, passing as Mr. Redfield, guardian to the little child, 
 whom I loved so much." 
 
 " That was Adah" fell in a whisper from the doctor's 
 lips, but caught the ear of no one. 
 
 All were too intent upon the story, which proceeded; 
 
300 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 "She grew in beauty, and I was wondrous proud of 
 her, giving her every advantage in my power. I sent her 
 to the best of schools, and even looked forward to the day 
 when she should take the position she was so well fitted 
 to fill. After she was grown to girlhood we boarded, she 
 as the ward, I as the guardian still, and then one unlucky 
 day I stumbled upon you. Dr. John, but not until you first 
 had stumbled on niy daughter, and been charmed with 
 her beauty, passing yourself as as George Hastings, 
 -lest your fashionable associates should know how the 
 aristocratic Dr. Richards was in love with a poor, unknown 
 orphan, boarding up two flights of stairs." 
 
 " Who is he talking about, Hugh ? Does he mean me ? 
 My head throbs so, I don't quite understand," 'Lina said^ 
 piteously, while Hugh held the poor aching head against 
 his bosom, crushing the orange blossoms, and whispering 
 softly, 
 
 " He means Adah." 
 
 " Yes, Adah," the convict rejoined. " John Richards 
 fancied Adah Gordon, as she was called, but loved his 
 pride and position more. I'll do you justice, though, 
 young man, I believe at one time you really and truly 
 loved my child, and but for your mother's letters might have 
 married her honorably. But you were afraid of that 
 mother. Your pride was stronger than your love; but I 
 was determined that you should have my daughter, and 
 proposed a mock marriage " 
 
 " Monster ! You, her father, planned that fiendish act ! " 
 and Alice's blue eyes flashed indignantly upon him, while 
 Hugh, forgetting that the idea was not new to him, walked 
 up before the "monster," as if to lay him at his feet. 
 
 f* Listen, while I explain, and you will see the monster 
 fyad an object," returned the stranger, speaking to Alice, 
 instead qf Hugh- "It wag the great wish of my heart that 
 my daughter should marry into a good family, one which 
 would give her position, and when I saw hovy much John 
 
THE DAY OF THE WEDDING. 301 
 
 Richards was pleased with her, I said he should be her 
 husband, for the Richards were known to me by reputa 
 tion. 
 
 From what I knew of John I thought he would hardly 
 dare marry my daughter outright, and so I cautiously sug 
 gested a mock-marriage, saying, by way of excusing my 
 self; that as I was only Adah's guardian, I could not feel 
 towards her as a near relative would feel, that, as I had 
 already expended large sums of money on her, I was get 
 ting tired of it, and would be glad to be released, hinting, 
 by way of smoothing the fiendish proposition, my belief 
 that, from constant association, he would come to love her 
 so much that at last he would really and truly make her his 
 wife. He seemed shocked, and if I remember rightly, call 
 ed me a brute, and all that ; but little by little I gained 
 ground, until at last he consented, stipulating that she 
 should not know his real name, which he knew I had dis 
 covered. It seems strange that a father should wish his 
 child to marry one who would consent to act so base a 
 part, but I knew there was nothing unkind in the doctor's 
 nature, and I trusted that his fondness for Adah and her 
 influence over him would bring it right at last. 
 
 "I had an acquaintance, I said, who lived a few miles from 
 the city, a man who, for money, would do anything, and 
 who, as a feigned justice of the peace, would go through 
 with the ceremony, and ever after keep his own counsel. 
 I wonder the doctor himself did not make some inquiries 
 concerning this so-called justice, but I think he is not 
 remarkably clear-headed, and this weakness saved me 
 much trouble. After a time I arranged the matter with my 
 friend, who was a lawful justice, staying at the house of 
 his brother, then absent in Europe. This being done, I 
 decided upon Hugh Worthington, for a witness, as being 
 the person of all the world, who should be present at the 
 bridal. He had recently come to New York, and I had ac 
 cidentally made his acquaintance, acquiring so strong an 
 
302 HUGH TVORTHINGTON. 
 
 influence over him that when I invited him to the wed 
 ding of my ward) he went unsuspectingly, signing his 
 name as witness and saluting the bride, who really was a 
 bride, as lawful a one as any who ever turned from the al 
 tar where she had registered her vows." 
 
 " Oh, joy, joy ! " and Alice sprang at once to her feet, 
 and hastening to the doctor's side, said to him, authorita 
 tively : 
 
 "You hear, you understand, Adah is your wife, your 
 very own, and you must go back to her at once. You do 
 understand me?" and Alice grew very earnest as the 
 doctor failed to rouse up, as she thought he ought to do. 
 Appealing next to Anna, she continued : 
 " Pray, make him comprehend that his wife is at Ter 
 race Hill." 
 
 Very gently Anna answered : 
 
 " She was there, but she has gone. He knows it ; I 
 came to tell him, but she fled immediately after recog 
 nizing my brother, and left a letter revealing the whole." 
 It had come to 'Lina by this time that Dr. Richards 
 could never be her husband, and with a bitter cry, she 
 covered her face with her hands, and went shivering to 
 the corner where Mrs. Worthington sat, as if a mother's 
 sympathy were needed now, and coveted as it had never 
 been before. 
 
 "Oh, mother," she sobbed, laying her head in Mrs- 
 Worthington's lap, " I wish I had never been born." 
 
 Sadly her wail of disappointment rang through the 
 room, and then the convict went on with his interrupted 
 narrative. 
 
 " When the marriage was over, Mr. Hastings took his 
 wife to another part of the city, hiding her from his fash 
 ionable associates, staying with her most of the time, and 
 appearing to love her so much that I thought it would not 
 be long before I should venture to tell him the truth. It 
 would be better to write it, I thought, and so I left her 
 
THE DAY OP THE WEDDING. 303 
 
 with him while I went South on the very laudable 
 business of stealing negroes from one State and selling 
 them in another. At Cincinnati, 1 wrote to the doctor, 
 confessing the whole, but it seems my letter never reached 
 him, for, though I did not know it then, the car contain 
 ing that mail was burned, and my letter was burned 
 with it. Some of you know that I was caught in my 
 traffic, and that the negro stealer, Sullivan, was safely 
 lodged in prison, from which he was released but a day 
 since. Fearing there might be some mistake, I wrote from 
 my prison home to Adah herself, but suppose it did not 
 reach New York till after she had left it." 
 
 A casual observer would have said that Mrs. Worthing- 
 ton had heard less of that strange story than any one else, 
 so motionless she sat, but not a word was missed by her in 
 the entire narrative, and when the narrator concluded, 
 she said anxiously, 
 
 " And that child, the lawful wife of this young man, was 
 she mine, or was she the servant girl's? " 
 
 A little apart from the others, his arms folded tightly 
 together, and his eyes fixed upon the convict, stood 
 Hugh. 
 
 " Answer her," he said, gravely, as the convict did not 
 
 reply. "Tell her if Adah be her child, or, "'Lina^ 
 
 - which ? " 
 
 Had a clap of thunder cleft the air around her, 'Lina 
 could not have started up sooner than she did. It was 
 the very first suspicion which had crossed her brain, and 
 her life seemed dying out, as halfway between Mrs. Wor- 
 thington and the convict she stood with hands outstretch 
 ed and livid lips, which tried to speak, but could only 
 moan convulsively. The convict took his eyes away from 
 7*6T, pitying her so much, as he said, " Adah is my lawful 
 child. I kept her, and sent the other back. It \vas a bold 
 act, and I wonder it was not questioned, but Adaline's eyes 
 were not so black then as they are now, and though five 
 
304 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 months older than the other, she was small for her age, 
 and two years sometimes change a child materially ; so 
 Eliza took it for granted that the girl she received as 
 Adaline, and whose real name was Matilda, was her own ; 
 but Adah Hastings is her daughter and Hugh's half-sister, 
 while this young woman is the child of myself and the 
 servant girl. 
 
 Alice, Anna, and the doctor looked aghast, while Mrs. 
 Worthington murmured audibly, "Adah, darling Adah, 
 and Willie, precious Willie oh, I want them here 
 now ! " 
 
 The mother had claimed her own, but alas, the fond 
 cry of welcome to sweet Adah Hastings was a death knell 
 to 'Lina, for it seemed to shut her out of that gentle wo 
 man's heart. There was no place for her, and in her terri 
 ble desolation she stood alone, her eyes wandering wist 
 fully from one to another, but turning very quickly when 
 they fell on the convict, her father. She would not have 
 it so ; she could not own a servant for her mother, that 
 villain for her father, and worse oh, infinitely worse 
 than all she had no right to be born ! A child of sin 
 and shame, disgraced, disowned, forsaken. It was a terri 
 ble blow, and the proud girl staggered beneath it. 
 
 "Will no one speak to me?" she said, at last; "no one 
 break this dreadful silence ? Has everybody forsaken me ? 
 Do you all loathe and hate the offspring of such parents ? 
 Won't somebody pity and care for me ? " 
 
 " Y~es, ^Lina" and Hugh the one from whom she had 
 the least right to expect pity Hugh came to her side* 
 and winding his arm around her, said, with a choking 
 voice, "/"will not forsake you, 'Lina; I will care for you 
 the same as ever, and so long as I have a home you shall 
 have one too." 
 
 " Oh, Hugh, I don't deserve this from you ! " was 'Lina's 
 faint response, as she laid her head upon his bosom, whis 
 pering, " Take me away from them all up stairs on 
 the bed ! I am so sick, and ray head is bursting open ! " 
 
THE DAY OF THE WEDDING. 305 
 
 Hugh was strong a a young giant, and lifting gently 
 the yielding form, he bore it from the room the bridal' 
 room, which she would never enter again, until he brought 
 her back and laid her softly down beneath the win 
 dows, dropping tears upon her white, still face, and whis 
 pering, 
 
 Poor 'Lina ! " 
 
 As Hugh passed out with his burden in his arms, the 
 bewildered company seemed to rally ; but the convict was 
 the first to act. Turning to Mrs. Worthington, still shiv 
 ering in the corner, he said, 
 
 " Eliza, you see I did not die as that paper told you, 
 but it suited me then to be dead, and so I wrote the par 
 agraph myself, sending you the paper. For this you 
 should thank me, as it made a few years of your life hap 
 pier, thinking I was dead. I have come here to night for 
 my children's sake ; and now that I have done what I 
 came to do, I shall leave you, only asking that you con 
 tinue to be a mother to the poor girl who is really the 
 .only sufferer. The rest have cause for joy; you in par_ 
 ticular," turning to the doctor. " But tell me again what 
 was that I heard of Adah's having fled ? " 
 
 Anna repeated the story, and then conquering her re 
 pugnance of the man, asked if he would not immediately 
 seek for her and bring her back if possible. 
 
 " My brother will help you," she said, " when he recovers 
 himself," and she turned to the doctor, who suddenly seem 
 ed to break the spell which had bound him, and springing 
 to his feet, exclaimed, 
 
 "Yes, Lily shall be found, but I must see my boy first. 
 Anna, can't we go now, to-night ? " 
 
 That was impossible ; Anna was too tired, Alice said, 
 and' conducting her to her own room, she made her take 
 the rest she so much needed. 
 
 When Alice returned again to the parlor, the convict 
 had gone. There had been a short consultation between 
 
806 HUGH TVORTHINGTON. 
 
 himself and the doctor, an engagement to meet in Cincin 
 nati to arrange their plan of search ; and then he had turn 
 ed again to his once wife, still sitting in her corner, mo 
 tionless, white, and paralyzed with nervous terror. 
 
 " You need not fear me, Eliza," he said, kindly ; " I shall 
 probably never trouble you again ; and though you have 
 no cause to believe my word, I tell you solemnly that I 
 will never rest until I have found our daughter, and sent 
 her back to you. Good-bye, Eliza, good-bye." 
 
 He did not offer her his hand ; he knew she would not 
 touch it; but with one farewell look of contrition and re 
 gret, he left her, and mounting the horse which had brought 
 him there, dashed away from Spring Bank, just as Colo 
 nel Tiffton reined up to the gate. 
 
 It was Alice who met him in the hall, explaining to 
 him as much as she thought necessary, and asking him, on 
 his return, to wait a little by the field gate, and turn back 
 other guests who might be on the road. 
 
 The Colonel promised compliance with her request, and 
 as only a few had been invited, it was not a hard task im 
 posed upon him. 'Lin a had been taken very sick, was all 
 the excuse the discreet Colonel would give to the people, 
 who rather reluctantly turned their faces homeward, so 
 that Spring Bank was not honored with' wedding guests 
 that night ; and when the clock struck eight, the appoint 
 ed hour for the bridal, only the bridegroom sat in the 
 dreary parlor, his head bent down upon the sofa arm, and 
 his chest heaving with the sobs he could not repress as he 
 thought of all poor Lily had suffered since he left her so 
 cruelly. Hugh had told him what he did not understand 
 before. He had come into the room for his mother, whom 
 'Lina was pleading to see ; and after leading her to the 
 chamber of the half-delirious girl, he had returned to*the 
 doctor, and related to him all he knew of Adah, dwelling 
 long upon her gentleness and beauty, which had won from 
 him a brother's love, even though he knew not she was 
 his sister. 
 
THE DAY OF THE WEDDING. 307 
 
 " I was a wretch, a villain ! " the doctor groaned. Then 
 looking wistfully at Hugh, he said, " Do you think she 
 loves me still ? Listen to what she says in her farewell 
 to Anna," and with faltering voice, he read : " That killed 
 the love ; and now, if I could, I would not be his except 
 for Willie's sake." Do you think she meant it ? " 
 
 " I have no doubt of it, sir. How could her love out 
 live everything ? Curses and blows might not have killed 
 it, but when you thought to ruin her good name, to deny 
 your child, she would be less than woman could she for 
 give. Why, I hate and despise you myself for the wrong 
 you have done my sister" and Hugh's tall form seemed 
 to take on an increased height as he abruptly left the 
 room, lest his hot temper should get the mastery, and he 
 knock down his dastardly brother-in-law. 
 
 It was a sad house at Spring Bank that night, where 
 'Lina lay, tossing distractedly from side to side ; now 
 holding her throbbing head, and now thrusting out her 
 hot, dry hands, as if to keep off some fancied form, who 
 claimed to be her mother. 
 
 The shock had been a terrible one to 'Lina. She did 
 love Dr. Richards ; and the losing him was enough of it 
 self to drive her mad ; but worse even than this, and far 
 more humiliating to her pride, w T as the discovery of her 
 parentage, the knowing that a convict was her father, a 
 common servant her mother, and that no marriage tie had 
 hallowed her birth. 
 
 " Oh, I can't bear it ! " she cried. " I can't. I wish I 
 might die ! Will nobody kill me ? Hugh, you will, I 
 know ! " 
 
 But Hugh was away for the family physician, for he would 
 not trust a gossipping servant to do the errand. Once be 
 fore that doctor had stood by 'Lina's bedside, and felt her 
 feverish pulse, but his face then was not as anxious as now, 
 when he counted the rapidly increasing beats, 'and saw 
 how fast the fever came on. There had been an expos- 
 
308 HUGH WOBTHINGTON. 
 
 lire to cold, he said, sufficient of itself to induce a fever, but 
 the whole had been aggravated a hundred-fold by the late 
 disastrous affair, of which Hugh had told him something. 
 He did not speak of danger, but Hugh, who watched 
 him narrowly, read it in his face, and following him down 
 the stairs, asked to be told the truth. 
 
 " She is going to be very sick. She may get well, but 
 I have little to hope from symptoms like hers." 
 
 That was the doctor's reply, and with a sigh Hugh 
 went back to the sick girl, who had given him little else 
 than sarcasm and scorn. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIY. 
 
 Drearily the morning dawned, but there were no bridal 
 slumbers to be broken, no bridal farewells said. There 
 were indeed good-byes to be spoken, for Anna was impa 
 tient to be gone, and at an early hour she was ready to 
 leave the house she had entered under so unpleasant cir 
 cumstances. 
 
 " I would like to see 'Lina," she said to Alice, who car 
 ried the request to the sick room. 
 
 But 'Lina refused. "I can't," she said ; "she hates, she 
 despises me, and she had reason. Tell her I was not wor 
 thy to be her sister; tell her anything you like; but the 
 doctor oh, Alice, do you think he'll come, just for a min 
 ute, before he goes ? " 
 
 It was not a pleasant thing for the doctor to meet 'Lina 
 now face to face, for he thought she wished to reproach him 
 for his treachery. But she did not she thought only of 
 herself; and when at last, urged on by Anna and Alice, 
 he entered in to her presence, she only offered him her 
 hand at first without a single word. He was shocked to 
 
309 
 
 find her so sick, for a few hours had worked a marvellous 
 change in her, and he shrank from the bright eyes fixed 
 so eagerly on his face. 
 
 " Oh, Dr. Richards," she began at last, " if I loved you 
 less it would not be so hard to tell you what I must. I 
 did love you, bad as I am, but I meant to deceive you. 
 It was for me that Adah kept silence at Terrace Hill. 
 Adah, I almost hate her for having crossed my path." 
 
 There was a fearfully vindictive gleam in the bright 
 eyes now, and the doctor shudderingly looked away, while 
 'Lina, with a softer tone continued, " You believed me rich, 
 and whether you loved me afterward or not, you sought 
 me first for my money. I kept up the delusion, for in no 
 other way could I have won you. Dr. Richards, if I die, 
 as perhaps I may, I shall have one less sin for which to 
 atone, if I confess to you that instead of the heiress you 
 imagined me to be, I had scarcely money enough to pay 
 my board at that hotel. Hugh, who himself is poor, fur 
 nished what means I had, and most of my jewelry was 
 borrowed. Do you hear that ? Do you know what you 
 have escaped ? " 
 
 She almost shrieked at the last, for she read his feelings 
 in his face, and knew that he despised her. 
 
 " Go," she continued, "find your Adah. It's nothing 
 but Adah now. I see her name in everything. Hugh 
 thinks of nothing else, and why should he ? She's his sis 
 ter, and 1 oh ! I'm nobody but a beggarly servant's brat. 
 I wish I was dead ! I wish I was dead, and I will be 
 pretty soon." 
 
 This was their parting, and the doctor left her room a 
 sobered, sadder man than he had entered it. Half an hour 
 later, and he, with Anna, was fast nearing Versailles, where 
 they were joined bylMr. Millbrook, and together the three 
 started on their homeward route. 
 
 Rapidly the tidings flew, told in a thousand different 
 
310 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 ways, and the neighborhood was all on fire with the 
 strange gossip. But little cared they at Spring Bank for 
 the storm outside. So fierce a one was beating at their 
 doors, that even the fall of Sumter failed to elicit more 
 than a casual remark from Hugh, who read without the 
 slightest emotion the President's call for 75,000 men. At 
 another time he might have been eager to join the fray, 
 and hasten to avenge the insult, for Kentucky held no 
 truer patriot than he, but now all his thoughts were cen 
 tered in that dark room where 'Lin a raved in mad deli 
 rium, controlled only by his or Alice's voice, and quiet 
 only when one of them was with her. Tenderer than a 
 brother was Hugh to the raving creature, staying by her 
 so patiently and uncomplainingly that none save Alice 
 ever guessed how he longed to be free and join in the 
 search for Adah, which had as yet proved fruitless. Night 
 after night, day after day, 'Lina grew worse, until at last 
 there was no hope, and the council of physicians summon 
 ed to her side, said that she would die. Still she lingered 
 on, and the fever abated at last, the 'eyes were not so fear 
 fully bright, while the wild ravings were hushed, and 'Lina 
 lay quietly upon her pillow. 
 
 " Do you know me ? " Alice asked, bending gently over 
 her, while Hugh, from the other side of the bed, leaned 
 eagerly forward for the reply. 
 
 " Yes, but where am I ? This is not New York. 
 Havel am I sick, very sick?" and 'Lina's eyes took a 
 terrified expression as she read the truth in Alice's face, 
 "lam not going to die, ami?" she continued, casting 
 upon Alice a look which would have wrung out the 
 truth, even if Alice had been disposed to withhold it, 
 which she was not. 
 
 "You are very sick," she answered, " and though we 
 hope for the best, the doctor does not encourage us much. 
 Are you willing to die, 'Lina ? " 
 
 Neither Hugh nor Alice ever forgot the tone of 'Lina's 
 voice as she replied, 
 
311 
 
 * "Willing ? No / " or the expression of her face, as she 
 turned it to the wall, and motioned them to leave her. 
 
 For two days after that she neither spoke nor gave 
 other token of interest in any thing passing around her, 
 but at the expiration of that time, as Alice sat by her, she 
 suddenly exclaimed, 
 
 " Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who 
 trespass against us. I wish he had said that some other 
 way, for if that means we can not be forgiven until we for 
 give every body, there's no hope for me, for I cannot, I will 
 not forgive that servant for being my mother, neither will 
 I forgive Adah Hastings for having crossed my path. If 
 she had never seen the doctor I should have been his 
 wife, and never have know who or what I was. I hate 
 them both, so you need not pray for me. I -heard you last 
 night, but it's no use. I can't forgive." 
 
 'Lina was very much excited so much so, indeed, that 
 Alice oould not talk with her then ; and for days this was 
 the burden of her remarks. She could not forgive her moth 
 er nor Adah, and until she did, there was no use for her or 
 any one else to pray. But the prayers she could not say 
 for herself were said for her by others, while Alice omitted 
 no proper occasion for talking with her personally on the 
 subject she felt to be all important. Nor were these ef 
 forts without their effect, for the bitter tone ceased at last, 
 and 'Lina became gentle as a child. 
 
 Taking Mrs. Worthington's hand one day, she said, 
 " I've given you little cause to love me, and I know 
 how glad ypu must be that another, and not I, is your 
 real daughter. I did not know what made me so bad, but 
 I understand it now. I saw myself so plainly in that 
 man's eyes ; it was his nature in me which made me a 
 second Satan so bad to you, so hateful to Hugh. Oh, 
 Hugh ! the memory of what I've been to him is the hardest 
 part of all, for 1 want him to think kindly of me when 
 I'm gone ! " and covering her face with the sheet, 'Lina 
 
312 HUGH WOKTHINGTOX. 
 
 wept bitterly ; while Hugh, who was standing behind her, 
 laid his warm, hand on her head, smoothing her hair 
 caressingly, as he said, 
 
 " Never mind that, 'Lina ; I, too, was bad to you 
 provoking you purposely many times, and exposing your 
 weakness just to see how savage you would be. If 'Lina 
 can forgive me, I surely can forgive 'Lina." 
 
 There was the sound of convulsive sobbing; and then, 
 uncovering her face, 'Lina raised herself up, and laying 
 her head on Hugh's bosom, answered through her 
 tears, 
 
 " I wish I had always felt as I do now. We should 
 have been happier together, and it would not be so great 
 a relief to you all to have me gone, never to come back 
 again. Hugh, you don't know how bad I've been. You 
 remember the money you sent to Adah last summer in 
 mother's letter. I kept the whole. I burned the letter, 
 and mother never saw it. I bought jewelry with Adah's 
 money. I did so many things, I I it goes from me 
 now. I can't remember all. Oh, must I confess the whole, 
 everything, before I can say, ' Forgive us our trespas 
 ses?'" 
 
 " N"o, 'Lina. Unless you can repair some wrong, you are 
 not bound to tell every little thing. Confession is due to 
 God alone," Alice whispered to the agitated girl, who looked 
 bewildered, as she answered back, " But God knows all now, 
 and you do not ; besides, I can't feel sorry towards Him as 
 I do towards others. I try and try, but the feeling is not 
 there, the sorry feeling, I mean, as sorry as I want to 
 feel." 
 
 " God, who knows our feebleness, accepts our purposes 
 to do better, and gives us strength to carry them out," 
 Alice whispered, again bending over 'Lina, on whose 
 pallid, distressed face a ray of hope for a moment shone. 
 
 "I have good purposes," she murmured, " but I can't, I 
 can't. I don't know as they are real ; may be, if I get 
 
POOR 'LINA. 313 
 
 well, they would not last, and it's all so dark, so desolate, 
 nothing to make life desirable, no home, no name, no 
 friends and death is so terrible. Oh, Hugh, Hugh! 
 don't let me go. You are strong; you can hold me back, 
 even from Death himself, and I can be good to you ; I can 
 feel on that point, and I tell you truly that, standing as I 
 am with the world behind and death before, I see nothing 
 to make life desirable, but you, Hugh, my noble, my abused 
 brother. To make you love me, as I hope I might, is 
 worth living for. You would stand by rne, Hugh, you 
 if no one else, and I wish I could tell you how fast the 
 great throbs of love keep coming to my heart. Dear 
 Hugh, brother Hugh, don't let me die, hold me- fast." 
 
 With an icy shiver, she clung closer to Hugh, as if he 
 could indeed do battle with the king of terrors stealing 
 slowly into that room. 
 
 " Somebody say ' Our Father,' " she whispered, " I can't 
 remember how it goes." 
 
 " Do you forgive and love everybody ? " Alice asked? 
 sighing as she saw the bitter expression flash for an instant 
 over the pinched features, while the white lips answered, 
 " Not Adah, no, not Adah." 
 
 Alice could not pray after that, not aloud at legist, and 
 a deep silence fell upon the group assembled around the 
 death-bed, while 'Lina slept quietly on Hugh's strong 
 arm. Gradually the hard expression on the face relaxed, 
 giving way to one of quiet peace, as they waited anxious 
 ly for the close of that long sleep. It was broken at last, 
 but 'Lina seemed lost to all save the thoughts burning at her 
 breast, thoughts which brought a quiver to her lips, and 
 forced out upon her brow great drops of sweat. The-noon- 
 day sun of May was shining broadly into the room, but to 
 'Lina it was night, and she said to Alice, now kneeling at 
 her side, "It's growing dark; they'll light the street 
 lamps pretty soon, and the band will play in the yard, but 
 I shall not hear them. New York and Saratoga are a 
 14 
 
314 HUGH WORTIIINGTON. 
 
 great ways off, and so is Terrace Hill. Tell Adah I do 
 forgive her, and I would like to see her, for she is ray half 
 sister. The bitter is all gone. I am in charity with ev 
 erybody, everybody. May I say 'Our Father' now? It 
 goes and comes, goes and comes, forgive our trespasses, 
 my trespasses ; how is it, Hugh ? Say it with me once, 
 and you, too, mother." 
 
 Mrs. Worthington, with a low cry began with Hugh 
 the soothing prayer in which 'Lina joined feebly, throw 
 ing in ejaculatory sentences of her own. " Forgive my 
 trespasses as I forgive those that trespass against me. 
 Bless Hugh, dear Hugh, noble Hugh. Forgive us our 
 trespasses, forgive us our trespasses, our trespasses, forgive 
 my trespasses, me, forgive, forgive." 
 
 It was the last words which ever passed 'Lina's lips, 
 " Forgive, forgive," and Hugh, with his ear close to the 
 lips, heard the faint murmur even after the hands had fall 
 en from his neck where, in the last struggle, they had been 
 clasped, and after the look which comes but once to 
 all had settled on her face. That was the last of 'Lina, 
 with that cry for pardon she passed away, and though it 
 was but a death-bed repentance, .and she, the departed, 
 had much need for pardon, Alice clung to it as to a ray of 
 hope, knowing how tender and full of compassion was the 
 blessed Saviour, even to those who turn not to him until 
 the river of death is bearing them away. Very gently 
 Hugh laid the dead girl back upon the pillow, and leaving 
 one kiss on her white forehead, hurried away to his own 
 room, where, unseen by mortal eye, he could ask for knowl 
 edge to give himself to the God who had come so near to 
 them. 
 
 The next day was appointed for the funeral, and just as 
 the sun was setting, a long procession wound across the 
 fields, and out to the hillside, where the Spring Bank dead 
 were buried, and where they laid 'Lina to rest, forgetting 
 all her faults, and speaking only kindly words of her as 
 
JOINING THE ARMY. 315 
 
 they went slowly back to the house, from which she had 
 gone forever. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 JOINING THE ARMY. 
 
 Ten days after the burial, there came three letters to 
 Spring Bank, one to Hugh, from Murdoch, as he now 
 chose to be called, saying that though he had sought and 
 was still searching for the missing Adah, he could only 
 trace her, and that but vaguely, to the Greenbush depot, 
 where he lost sight of her entirely, no one after that hav 
 ing seen a person bearing the least resemblance to her. 
 After a consultation with the doctor, he had advertised 
 for her, and he enclosed a copy of the advertisement, as 
 it appeared in the different papers *of Boston, Albany, and 
 New York. 
 
 ** If A H will let her whereabouts be known to her friends, 
 
 she will hear of something to her advantage." 
 
 This was the purport of Murdoch's letter, if we except 
 a kind enquiry after ''Lina, of whose death he had not 
 heard. 
 
 The second, for Alice, was from Anna Richards, who 
 having heard of 'Lina's decease, spoke kindly of the un 
 fortunate girl, and then wrote. "I have great hopes of 
 my erring brother, now that I know how his whole heart 
 goes out towards his beautiful boy, our darling Willie. I 
 wish poor, dear Lily could have seen him when, on his ar 
 rival at Terrace Hill, he knelt by the crib of his sleeping 
 child, waking him at once, and hugging him to his bosom, 
 while his tears dropped like rain. I am sure she would 
 
316 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 have chosen to be his wife, for her own sake as well as 
 Willie's. 
 
 " You knew how proud my mother and sisters are, and 
 it would surprise you to see them pet, and spoil, and fondle 
 Willie, who rules the entire household ; mother even al 
 lowing him to bring wheel-barrow, drum, and trumpet 
 into the parlor, declaring that she likes the noise, as it 
 stirs up her blood. Willie has made a vast change in our 
 once quiet home, and I fear I shall meet with much op 
 position when I take him away, as I expect to do next 
 month, for Lily gave him to me, and brother John has 
 said that I may have him until the mother is found, while 
 Charlie is perfectly willing ; and thus, you see, iny cup of 
 joy is full. 
 
 " Brother is away now, searching for Adah, and I am 
 wicked enough not to miss him, so busy am I in the few 
 preparations needed by the wifQ,of a poor missionary." 
 
 Then, in a postcript, Anna added : "I forgot to tell you 
 that Charlie and I are to be married some time in July, 
 that the Presbyterian Society of Snowdon have given him 
 a call to be their pastor, that he has accepted, and what 
 is best of all, has actually rented your old home for us to 
 live in. Oh, I am so happy ; I do not feel like an old 
 maid of thirty-three, and Charlie flatters me by saying I 
 have certainly gone back in looks to twenty. Perhaps I 
 have, but it all comes of happiness and a heart full of 
 thankfulness to our good Father who has so greatly bless 
 ed me." 
 
 With a smile, Alice finished the childlike letter, so much 
 like Anna. Then feeling that Mrs. Worthington would be 
 glad to hear from Willie, she went in quest of her, finding 
 her at the end of the long piazza, listening while Hugh 
 read the sympathetic letter received from Irving Stanley. 
 
 From the doctor, whom he accidentally met on Broad 
 way, Irving had heard of 'Lina's death, and he wrote at 
 once'to Mrs. Worthington, expressing his sympathy for her 
 
JOINING THE ARMY. 317 
 
 own and Hugh's bereavement ; thus showing that the Dr. 
 had only told him a part of the sad story, withholding 
 all that concerned Adah, who was evidently a stranger to 
 Irving Stanley. His sister, Mrs. Ellsworth, was well, he 
 wrote, though very busy with her preparations for going 
 to Europe, whither he intended accompanying her, adding 
 " it was not so much pleasure which was taking her there, 
 as the hope that by some of the Paris physicians her 
 little deformed Jennie might be benefitted. She had 
 secured a gem of a governess for her daughter, a young 
 lady whom he had not yet seen, but over whose beauty 
 and accomplishments his staid sister Carrie had really 
 waxed eloquent." The letter closed by asking if Hugh 
 were still at home or had he joined the army. 
 
 " Oh-h," and Alice's cheek grew pale at the very idea of 
 Hugh's putting himself in so much danger, for Hugh was 
 very dear to her now. His noble, unselfish devotion to 
 'Lin a had finished the work begun on that memorable 
 night when she had said to -him, "I may learn to love 
 you," and more than once as she watched with him by 
 'Lina's bedside, she had been tempted to wind her arm 
 around his neck and whisper in his ear, 
 
 " Hugh, I love you now, I will be your wife." 
 But propriety had held her back and made her far more 
 reserved towards him than she ha<T ever been before. 
 Terribly jealous where she was concerned, Hugh was 
 quick to notice the change, and the gloomy shadow on his 
 face was not caused wholly by 'Lina's sad death, as many 
 had supposed. Hugh was very unhappy. Instead of 
 learning to love him, as he had sometimes hoped she might, 
 Alice had come to dislike him^ shunning his society, and al 
 ways making some pretense to get away if by chance they 
 were left alone, or if compelled to talk with him, chatting 
 rapidly on the most indifferent topics. She never would 
 love him, Hugh thought, and feeling that the sooner he 
 left home the better, he had decided to start at once in 
 
318 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 quest of Adah. This decision he had not yet communi 
 cated to his mother, but as the closing of Irving Stanley's 
 letter seemed to open- the way, he rather abruptly an 
 nounced his intention of going immediately to New York. 
 He did not however add that failing to find his sister, he 
 might possibly join the Federal Army. 
 
 Ever since he had had time to think clearly upon the 
 subject then agitating the public mind, Hugh had felt an 
 intense desire to enroll himself with the patriotic men 
 who would not sit idly down while their country was lay 
 ing her dishonored head low in the dust. A Unionist to 
 the heart's core, he had already won some notoriety by 
 his bitter denunciations against those men who, with 
 Harney at their head, were advocating secession from the 
 union. But his first duty was to Adah, and so he only 
 talked of her and the probabilities of his finding her. 
 He should start to-morrow, if possible, he said. He had 
 made his arrangements to do so, and there was no longer 
 an excuse for tarrying. They would get on well enough 
 without him; they would not miss him much, and he 
 stole a glance at Alice, who, fearful lest she might betray 
 herself, framed some excuse for leaving her seat upon the 
 piazza, and stole up to her room where she could be alone, 
 to think how desolate Spring Bank would be when Hugh 
 was really gone. * 
 
 Once she thought to tell him all, thinking that a per 
 fect understanding would make her so much happier 
 while he was away, but maidenly modesty kept her back, 
 and so the words which would have brought so much 
 comfort to Hugh were to the last unspoken. Gentler, 
 kinder, tenderer than a sister's could have been, was her 
 demeanor towards him during the whole of the next day, 
 the last he spent at home. Once, emboldened by some 
 thing she said, Hugh felt half tempted to sue again for 
 the love so coveted, but depreciation of himself kept him 
 silent, and when at last they parted, his manner towards 
 
JOINING THE AEMY. 819 
 
 her was so constrained and cold that even Mrs. Worth- 
 ington observed it, wondering what had come between 
 them. She wanted Alice to think well of Hugh, and by 
 way of obliterating any unpleasant impression he might 
 have left in her mind, she spent the morning after 
 his departure in talking of him, telling how kind he had 
 always been to her, and how kind he was to every body. 
 Many acts were enumerated by the fond mother as proofs 
 of his unselfishness, and among others she spoke of his 
 horoic conduct years ago, when with his uncle he was on 
 Lake Erie and the boat took fire. Had she never told 
 Alice ? 
 
 " No, never," Alice answered faintly, a new light break 
 ing in upon her and showing her why it was that Hugh's 
 face had so often puzzled her. 
 
 He was the boy to whose care she had entrusted her 
 life, and she was the Golden Haired, remembered by him 
 so long and so lovingly. There was one great throb of 
 joy, of perfect delight, and then an intense desire to 
 tell Hugh of her discovery 
 
 But Hugh was gone, and her only alternative now 
 was to write. He was intending to stop two days in 
 Cincinnati, and he had said to his mother, " If any thing 
 happens you can write to me there," and something had 
 happened, something which made her- heart throb wildly, 
 as alone in her room she knelt and thanked her God, asking 
 that he would care for the Hugh so dear to her, and bring 
 him safely back. 
 
 Two days later and Hugh, who had but an hour Ion ger 
 to remain in Cincinnati, sauntered to the post-office, with 
 very little expectations that he should find any thing 
 awaiting him. How then was he surprised when a clerk 
 handed him Alice's letter, the sixth she had written ere at 
 all satisfied with its wording. Hurrying back to his room 
 at the hotel, he broke the seal, and read as follows : 
 
820 HUGH WOKTH1NGTON. 
 
 HUGH : I have at last discovered who you are, 
 and why I have so often been puzzled with your face. 
 You are the boy whom I met on the St. Helena, and 
 who rescued me from drowning. Why have you never 
 told me this ? 
 
 " Dear Hugh, I wish I had known it earlier. It seems so 
 cold, thanking you on paper, but I have no other oppor 
 tunity, and must do it here. 
 
 " We were both unconscious when taken from the wa 
 ter, but you were holding fast to my arm, and so really 
 was the means of my being saved, though a fisherman 
 carried me to the shore. You must have been removed 
 at once, for when we inquired for you we could only learn 
 that you were gone. Heaven bless you, Hugh. My 
 mother prayed often for the preserver of her child, and 
 need I tell you that I, too, shall never forget to pray for 
 you ? The Lord keep you in alLyour ways, and lead you 
 safely to your sister, ALICE." 
 
 Many times Hugh read this note, then pressing it to his 
 lips thrust it into his bosom, but failed to see what Alice 
 had hoped he might see, that the love he once asked for 
 was his at last. 
 
 "If she loved me, she would have told me so," he 
 thought, "for she promised me as much, but she does not, 
 so that ends the drama. Oh, Golden Hair, why did I ev 
 er meet her, or why was I suffered to love her so devot 
 edly, if I must lose her at the last ! " 
 
 There were great drops of sweat about Hugh's lips, 
 and on his forehead, as, burying his face in his hands, he 
 laid both upon the table, a^id battled manfully with his 
 love for Alice Johnson. 
 
 " God help me in my sorrow," was the prayer which 
 fell from the quivering lips, but did not break the silence 
 of that little room, where none, save God, witnessed 
 the conflict, the last Hugh ever fought for Alice .John 
 son. 
 
JOINING THE AKMY. 821 
 
 He could give her up at lengtlj ; could think, without 
 a shudder, .of living all his life without her, and when, 
 late that afternoon, he took the evening train for Cleve 
 land, not one in the crowded car would have guessed how 
 sore was the heart of the young man who plunged so en 
 ergetically into the spirited war argument in progress be 
 tween a Northern and Southern politician. It was a 
 splendid escape-valve for his pent-up feelings, and Hugh 
 carried everything before him, taking by turns both sides 
 of the question, and effectually silencing the two com 
 batants, who said to each other in parting, "We shall 
 hear from that Kentuckian again, though whether in 
 Rebeldom or Yankee land we cannot tell." 
 
 Arrived at New York he wrote a reply to Alice's note, 
 saying that what he had done for her was no more than 
 he ought to have done for any one who had come to him 
 for help, and that she need not expend her gratitude on 
 him, though he was glad of any thing to keep him in her 
 remembrance. 
 
 After this he wrote regularly, kind, friendly letters, and 
 Alice was beginning to feel that they in some degree 
 atoned for his absence, when there came one which 
 wrung a wailing cry from Mrs. Worthington, and brought 
 Alice at once to her side. 
 
 " What is it ? " she asked in. much v alarm, and Mrs. 
 Worthington replied, " Oh, Hugh, my boy ! he's enlisted, 
 joined the army ! I shall never see him again ! " 
 
 Could Hugh have seen Alice then, he would not for a 
 moment have doubted the nature of her feelings towards 
 himself. She did not cry out, nor faint, but her face turn 
 ed white as the dress she wore, while her hands pressed 
 so tightly together, that her nails left the impress in her 
 flesh. 
 
 " God keep him from danger and death," she murmur 
 ed ; then, winding her arm around the stricken mother 
 she wiped her tears away ; and to her moaning cry that 
 14* 
 
322 HUGH WOBTHINGTON. 
 
 she was left alone, replied, " Let me be your child till he 
 
 returns, or, if he never does " 
 
 She could get no further, and sinking down beside 
 Hugh's mother, she laid her head on her lap, and wept 
 bitterly. Alas, that scenes like this should be so common 
 in our once happy land, but so it is. Mothers start with 
 terror, and grow faint over the boy just enlisted for the 
 war; then follow him with prayers and yearning love to 
 the distant battle field ; then wait and watch for tidings 
 from him ; and then too often read with streaming eyes 
 and hearts swelling with agony, the fatal message which 
 says their boy is dead. 
 
 It was a sad day at Spring Bank when first the news 
 of Hugh's enlistment came, for Hugh seemed as really 
 dead as if they heard the hissing shell or whizzing ball 
 which was to bear his young life away. It was nearly 
 two months since he left home, and he could find no trace 
 of Adah, though searching faithfully for her, in conjunc 
 tion with Murdoch and "Dr. Richards, both of whom had 
 joined him in New York. 
 
 "If Murdoch cannot find her," he wrote, "lam con 
 vinced no one can, and I leave the matter now to him, 
 feeling that another duty calls me, the duty of fighting 
 for my country." 
 
 It was just after the disastrous battle of Bull Run, when 
 people were wild with excitement, and Hugh was thus 
 borne with the tide, until he found himself enrolled as a 
 private in a regiment of cavalry, gathering in one of the 
 Northern States. There had been an instant's hesitation, 
 a clinging of the heart to the dear old home at Spring 
 Bank, where his mother and Alice were ; and then, with 
 an eagerness which made his whole frame tremble, he had 
 seized the pen, and written down his name, amid deafen 
 ing cheers for the brave Kentuckian. This done, there 
 was no turning back ; nor did he desire it. It seemed as 
 if he were made for war, so eagerly he longed to join the 
 
JOINING THE ARMY. 323 
 
 fray. Only one thing was wanting, and that was Rocket. 
 He had tried the " Yankee horses," as he called them, but 
 found them far inferior to his pet. Rocket, he must have, 
 and in his letter to his mother, he made arrangements for 
 her to send him northward by a Versailles merchant, who, 
 he knew, was coming to New York. 
 
 Hugh and Rocket, they would make a splendid match) 
 and so Alice thought, as, on the day when Rocket was led 
 away, she stood with her arms around his graceful neck, 
 whispering to him the words of love she would fain have 
 sent his master. She had recovered from the first shock 
 of Hugh's enlistment. She could think of him now 
 calmly as a soldier ; could pray that God would keep him, 
 and even feel a throb of pride that one who had lived so 
 many years in Kentucky, then poising almost equally in 
 the scale, should come out so bravely for the right, though 
 by that act he called down curses on his head from those 
 at home who favored Rebellion, and who, if they fought 
 at all, would cast in their lot with the seceding States. 
 She had written to Hugh telling him how proud she was 
 of him, and how her sympathy and prayers would follow 
 him everywhere. " And if," she had added, in concluding, 
 " you are sick, or wounded, I will come to you as a sister 
 might do. I will find you wherever you are." 
 
 She had sent this letter to him three weeks before, and 
 now she stood caressing the beautiful Rocket, who some 
 times proudly arched his long neck, and then looked 
 wistfully at the sad group gathered round him, as if he 
 knew it was no ordinary parting. Col. Tiffton, who had 
 heard what was going on, had ridden over to expostulate 
 with Mrs. Worthington against sending Rocket North. 
 " Better keep him at home," he said, " and tell Hugh to 
 come back, and let those who had raised the muss settle 
 their own difficulty." 
 
 The old colonel, who was a native of Virginia, did not 
 know exactly where he stood. " He was very patriotic," 
 
324 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 he said, " but hanged if he knew which side to take both 
 were wrong. He didn't go Nell's doctrine, for Nell was a 
 ivibid Secesh ; neither did he swallow Abe Lincoln, and 
 he'd advise Alice to keep a little more quiet, for there 
 was no knowing what the hot heads would do ; they 
 might pounce on Spring Bank any night." 
 
 " Let them," and Alice's blue eyes flashed brightly, 
 while her girlish figure seemed to expand and grow higher 
 as she continued ; they will find no cowards here. I 
 never touched a revolver in my life. I am quite as much 
 afraid of one that is not loaded as of one that is, but I'll 
 conquer the weakness. I'll begin to-day. I'll learn to 
 handle fire-arms. I'll practice shooting at a mark, and if 
 Hugh is killed I'll " 
 
 She could not tell what she would do, for the woman 
 conquered all other feelings, and laying her face on Rock 
 et's silken mane, she sobbed aloud. 
 
 " There's pluck, by George ! " muttered the old colonel. 
 "I most wish Nell was that way of thinking." 
 
 It was time now for Rocket to go, and 'mid the deaf- 
 ning howls of the negroes and the tears of Mrs. Wor- 
 thington and Alice he was led away, the latter watching 
 him until he was lost to sight beyond the distant hill, then 
 falling on her knees she, prayed, as many a one has done, 
 that God would be with our brave soldiers, giving them 
 the victory, and keeping one of them, at least, from fall 
 ing. 
 
 Sadly, gloomily the autumn days came on, and the land 
 was rife with war and rumors of war. In the vicinity of 
 Spring Bank were many patriots, but there were hot 
 Secessionists there also, and Jbitter contentions ensued. 
 Old friends were estranged, families were divided, neigh 
 bors watched each other jealously, while al^ seemed 
 waiting anxiously for the result. 
 
 Blacker, and darker, and thicker the war clouds gathered 
 on our horizon, but our story has little to do with that 
 
JOINING THE AEMY. 325 
 
 first year of carnage, when human blood was poured as 
 freely as water, from the Cumberland to the Potomac. 
 Over all that we pass, and open the scene again in the 
 summer of '62, when people were gradually waking to 
 the fact that Richmond was not so easily taken, or the 
 South so easily conquered. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE DESERTER. 
 
 There had been a desertion from a regiment on the 
 Potomac. An officer of inferior rank, but whose position 
 had been such as to make him the possessor of much 
 valuable information, was missing from his command one 
 morning, and under such circumstances as to leave little 
 doubt that his intention was to reach the enemy's lines if 
 possible. Long and loud were the invectives against the 
 traitor, and none were deeper in their denunciations 
 than Captain Hugh Worthington, as, seated on his fiery 
 war-horse, Rocket, he heard from Irving Stanley the story 
 of Dr. Richards' disgrace. 
 
 " He should be pursued, brought back, and shot ! " he 
 said, emphatically, feeling that he would like much to be 
 one of the pursuers already on the track of the treacher 
 ous doctor, who skillfully eluded them all, and just at 
 the close of a warm summer day, sat in the shadow of 
 the Virginia woods, weary, foot-sore and faint with the 
 pain caused from his ankle, sprained by a recent fall. 
 
 He had hunted for Adah until entirely discouraged, 
 and partly as a panacea for the remorse preying so con 
 stantly upon him, and partly in compliance with Anna's 
 entreaties, he had at last joined the Federal army, and 
 been sworn in with the full expectation of some lucrative 
 
326 HUGH WQKTHINGTON. 
 
 office. But his unlucky star was in the ascendant. Sto 
 nes derogatory to his character were set afloat, and the 
 final result of the whole was that he found himself enroll 
 ed in a company where he knew he was disliked, and un 
 der a captain whom he thoroughly detested, for the fraud 
 practised upon himself. In this condition he was sent to 
 the Potomac, and while on duty as a picket, grew to be 
 on the most friendly terms with more than one of the 
 enemy, planning at last to desert, and effecting his escape 
 one stormy night, when the watch were off their guard. 
 Owing to some mistake, the aid promised by his Rebel 
 friends had not been extended, and as best he could he 
 was making his way to Richmond, when, worn out with 
 hunger and fatigue, he sank down to die, as he believed, 
 at the entrance of some beautiful woods which skirted the 
 borders of a well-kept farm in Virginia. Before him, at 
 the distance of nearly a quarter of a mile, a large, hand 
 some house was visible, and by the wreath of smoke curl 
 ing from the rear chimney, he knew it was inhabited, and 
 thought once to go there, and beg for the food he craved 
 so terribly. But fear kept him back the people might 
 be Unionists, and might detain him a prisoner until the 
 officers upon his track came up. Dr. Richards was cow 
 ardly, and so with a groan, he laid his head upon the 
 grass, and half wished that he had died ere he came to be 
 the miserable wretch he was. The pain in his ankle was 
 by this time intolerable, and the limb was swelling so fast 
 that to walk on the morrow was impossible, and if he 
 found a shelter at all, it must be found that night. 
 
 Midway between himself and the house was a comfort 
 able looking barn, whither he resolved to go. But the 
 journey was a tedious one, and brought to his flushed 
 forehead great drops of sweat wrung out by the agony 
 it caused him to step upon his foot. At last, when he 
 could bear his weight upon it no longer, he sank upon 
 the ground, and crawling slowly upon his hands and 
 
THE DESERTER. 327 
 
 * 
 
 knees, reached the barn just as it was growing dark, and 
 the shadows creeping into the corners made him half 
 shrink with terror, lest they were the bayonets of those 
 whose coming he was constantly expecting. He could 
 not climb to the scaffolding, and so he sought a friendly 
 pile of hay, and crouching down behind it, fell asleep for 
 the first time in three long days and nights. 
 
 The early June sun was just shining through the cracks 
 between the boards when he awoke : sore, stiff, feverish, 
 burning with thirst, and utterly unable to use the poor, 
 swollen foot, which lay so helplessly upon the hay. 
 
 " Oh, for Anna now," he moaned ; " if she were only 
 here ; or Lily, she would pity and forgive, could she see me 
 now." 
 
 But hark, what sound is it which falls upon his ear, 
 making him quake with fear, and, in spite of his aching 
 ankle, creep farther behind the hay ! It is a footstep a 
 light, tripping step, and it comes that way, nearer, nearer, 
 until a shadow falls between the open chinks and tho 
 bright sunshine without. Then it moves on, round tho 
 corner, pausing for a moment, while the hidden coward 
 holds his breath and listens anxiously, hoping nothing is 
 coming there. But there is, and it enters the same door 
 through which he came the previous night a girlish 
 figure, with a basket on its arm a basket in which she 
 puts the eggs she knew just where to find. Not behind 
 the hay, where a poor wretch was almost dead with terror. 
 There was no nest there, and so she failed to see the 
 ghastly face, pinched with hunger and pain, the glassy 
 eyes, the uncombed hair, and soiled, tattered garments of 
 him who once was known as one of fashion's most fastidi 
 ous dandies. 
 
 She had secured her eggs for the morning meal, and the 
 doctor hoped she was about to leave, when there was a 
 rustling of the hay, and he almost uttered a scream of 
 fear. But the sound died on his lips, as he heard the 
 
328 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 voice of prayer heard that young girl as she prayed, 
 and the words she tittered, stopped, for an instant, the 
 pulsation of his heart, and partly took his senses away. 
 First for her baby-boy she prayed, asking that God would 
 be to him father and mother both, and keep him from 
 temptation. Then for her country ; and the doctor, 
 listening to her, knew it was no Rebel tongue calling so 
 earnestly on God to save the Union, praying so touchingly 
 for the poor, suffering soldiers, and coming at last to him, 
 the miserable outcast, whose blood-shot eyes grew blind, 
 and whose brain grew giddy and wild, as he heard again 
 Lily's voice, pleading for George, wherever he might be. 
 She did not say, " God send him back to me, who loves 
 him still." She only asked forgiveness for the father of 
 her boy, but this was proof to the listener that she did not 
 hate him, and forgetful of his pain he raised himself 
 upon his elbow, and looking over the pile of hay, saw 
 her where she knelt, Lily, Adah, his wife, her fair face 
 covered by her hands, and her soft, brown hair cut short, 
 and curling in her neck. 
 
 Twice he essayed to speak, but his tongue refused to 
 move, and he sunk back exhausted, just as Adah rose 
 from her knees and turned to leave the barn. He could 
 not let her go. He should die before she came again ; he 
 was half dying now, arid it would be so sweet to breathe 
 out his life upon her bosom, with perhaps her forgiving 
 kiss upon his lips. 
 
 " Adah ! " he tried to say ; but the quivering lips made 
 no sound, and Adah passed out, leaving him there alone. 
 " Adah, Lily, Anna," he gasped, hardly knowing himself 
 whose name he called in his despair. 
 
 She heard that sound, and started suddenly, for she 
 thought it was her old, familiar name, which no one knew 
 there at Sunny Mead. For a moment she paused ; but 
 it came not again, and so she turned the corner, and her 
 shadow fell a second time on the haggard face pressed 
 
THE DESERTER. 829 
 
 against that crevice in the wall, the opening large enough 
 to thrust the long fingers through, in the wild hope of 
 detaining her as she passed. 
 
 "Adah!* 
 
 It was a gasping, bitter cry ; but it reached her, and 
 looking back, she saw the pale hand. beckoning, the fingers 
 motioning feebly, as if begging her to return. There was 
 a moment's hesitation, and then conquering her timidity, 
 Adah went back, shuddering as she passed the still beck 
 oning hand, and caught a glimpse of the wild eyes peering 
 at her through the crevice. 
 
 Adah ! " 
 
 She heard it distinctly now, and with it came thoughts 
 of Hugh. It must be he ; and her feet scarcely touched 
 the ground in her eagerness to find him. Over the thresh 
 old, across the floor, and behind the hay she bounded ; 
 but stood aghast at the spectacle before her. He had strug 
 gled to his knees ; and with his sprained limb coiled un 
 der him, his ashen lips apart, and his arms stretched out, 
 he was waiting for her. But Adah did not spring into 
 those trembling arms, as once she would have done. She 
 would never willingly rest in their embrace again ; and 
 utter, overwhelming surprise, was the only emotion visi 
 ble oil her face as she recognized him, not so much by his 
 looks as by the name he gave her. 
 
 "George, oh, George, how came you here?" she asked, 
 drawing backward from the arm reached out to touch her. 
 
 He felt that he was repulsed, and, with a wail which 
 smote painfully on Adah's heart, he fell forward on his 
 face, sobbing, " Oh, Adah, Lily, pity me, pity me, if you 
 can't forgive ! I have slept for three nights in the woods, 
 without once tasting food ! My ankle is sprained, my 
 strength is gone, and I wish that I were dead ! " 
 
 She had drawn nearer to him while he spoke, near 
 enough to recognize her country's uniform, all soiled and 
 tattered though it was. He was a soldier then Liberty's 
 loyal son and that fact awoke a throb of pity. 
 
330 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 " George," she said, kneeling down beside him, and lay 
 ing her hand upon his ragged coat, " tell me how came 
 you here, and where is your company ? " 
 
 He would not deceive her, though tempted to do so, 
 and he answered her truthfully, " Lily, I am a deserter. 
 I am trying to join the enemy ! " 
 
 He did not see the indignant flash of her eyes, or the 
 look of scorn upon her face, but he felt the reproach her 
 silence implied, and dared not look up. 
 
 " George," she began at last, sternly, very sternly, " but 
 for Him who bade us' forgive seventy times seven, I should 
 feel inclined to leave you here to die ; but when I remem 
 ber how much He is tried with me, I feel that I am to be 
 no one's judge. Tell me, why you have deserted ; and 
 tell me, too oh, George, in mercy tell me if you know 
 aught of Willie f " 
 
 The mother had forgotten all the wrongs heaped upon 
 the wife, and Adah drew nearer to him now, so near in 
 deed, that his arm encircled her at last, and held her 
 close ; but the ragged, dirty, fallen creature did not dare 
 to kiss her, and could only press her convulsively to his 
 breast, as he attempted an answer to her question. 
 
 " You must be quick," she said, suddenly remembering 
 herself; u it is growing late, Mrs. Ellsworth will be wait 
 ing for her breakfast; and since the stampede of her ser 
 vants, two old negroes and myself are all there are left to 
 care for the house. Stay," she added, as a new thought 
 seemed to strike her ; " I must go, or they will look for 
 me ; but after breakfast I will return, and do for you what 
 I can. Lie down again upon the hay." 
 
 She spoke kindly to him, but he felt it was as she 
 would have spoken to any one in distress, and not as once 
 she had addressed him. But he knew that he deserved 
 it ; and he suffered her to leave him, watching her with 
 streaming eyes as she hurried along the path, and counting 
 the minutes, which seemed to him like hours, ere he saw 
 
THE DESERTER. 331 
 
 her returning. She was very white when she came back, 
 and he noticed that she frequently glanced toward the 
 house., as if haunted by some terror. Constantly expecting 
 detection, he grasped her arm, as she bent to bathe his 
 swollen foot, and whispered huskily, " Adah, there's some 
 thing on your mind some evil you fear. Tell me, is 
 any one after me ! " 
 
 Adah nodded; while, like a frightened child, the tall 
 man clung to her neck, saying, piteously, " Don't give me 
 up ! Don't tell ; they would hang me, perhaps ! " 
 
 " They ought to do so," trembled on Adah's lips, but 
 she suppressed the words, and went on bandaging up the 
 ankle, and handling it as carefully as if it had not belonged 
 to a deserter. 
 
 He* did not feel pain now in his anxiety, as he asked, 
 " Who is it, Adah ? who's after me ? " but he started when 
 she replied, with downcast eyes and a flush upon her cheek, 
 <; Major Irving Stanley. You were in his regiment, the 
 th K Y. Volunteers." 
 
 Dr. Richards drew a relieved breath. " I'd rather it 
 were he than Captain Worthington, who hates me so 
 cordially. Adah, you must hide me ; I have so much to 
 tell. I know your parents, your brother, your husband ; 
 and I am he. It was not a mock marriage. It has been 
 proved real. It was a genuine Justice who married us, 
 and you are my lawful wife. Oh, pray, please don't hurt 
 me so," and he uttered a scream of pain as Adah's hands 
 pressed heavily upon the hard, purple flesh. 
 
 She scarcely knew what she was doing as she listened 
 to his words, and heard that she was indeed his wife. 
 Two years before, such news would have overwhelmed 
 her with delight, but now for a single instant a fierce 
 and almost resentful pang shot through her heart as she 
 thought of being bound for life to one for whom she had 
 no love, and whose very caresses made her loathe him 
 more and more. But when she thought of Willie, and 
 
332 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 that the stain upon his birth was washed away, the hard 
 look left her eyes, and her hot tears dropped upon the 
 ankle she was bandaging. 
 
 " You are glad ? " he asked, looking at her curiously, for 
 her manner puzzled him. 
 
 " Yes, very glad for Willie," she replied, keeping her 
 face bent down so he could not see its expression. 
 
 Then when her task was done, she seemed to nerve 
 herself for some painful task, and sitting down upon the 
 hay, said to him, 
 
 " Tell me now all that has happened since I left Ter 
 race Hill ; but first of Willie. You say Anna has 
 him ? " 
 
 "Yes, Anna Mrs. Millbrook," he replied, and^ was 
 about to say more, when Adah interrupted him with, 
 
 u It may spare you some pain if I tell you first what I 
 know of the tragedy at Spring Bank. I know that 
 'IJina is dead, and that the fact of my existence prevented 
 the marriage. So much I heard Mrs. Ellsworth tell her 
 brother. I had just come to her then. She was prouder 
 toward me than she is now, and I dared not question her. 
 Go on, you spoke of my parents, my brother. Who are 
 they?" 
 
 Her manner perplexed him greatly, but he controlled 
 himself, while he repeated rapidly the story known already 
 to our readers, the story which made Adah reel,, and 
 turn so white that he attempted to reach her and so keep 
 her from falling. But just the touch of his hand had 
 power to rouse her, and drawing back she laid her face in 
 the hay, and moaned. 
 
 " It's more than I ever hoped. Oh, Heavenly Father, 
 accept my thanks for this great happiness. . A mother and 
 a brother found." 
 
 " And husband, too," chimed in the doctor, eagerly, 
 " thank him for me, Adah. "You are glad to find me ? " 
 
 There was a pleading in his tone earnest pleading, 
 
THE DESERTER. 333 
 
 for the terrible conviction was fastening itself upon him, 
 that not as they once parted had he and Adah met. For 
 full five minutes Adah lay upon the hay, her whole soul 
 going out in a prayer of thankfulness for her great joy, and 
 for strength to bear the bitterness mingling with her joy. 
 Her face was very white when she lifted it up at last, but 
 her manner was composed, and she questioned the doc 
 tor calmly of Spring Bank, of Alice, of Hugh, of Anna, 
 but could not trust herself to say much to him of Wil 
 lie, lest her calmness shoufft give way, and a feeling spring 
 up in her heart of something like affection for Willie's 
 father. Alas, for the miserable man. He had found his 
 wife, but there was between them a gulf which his own 
 act had built, and which he never more might pass. He 
 began to suspect it, and ere she had finished the story of, 
 her wanderings, which at his request she told, he knew 
 there was no pulsation of her heart which beat for him. 
 He asked her where she had been since she fled from 
 Terrace Hill, and how she came to be in Mrs. Ellsworth's 
 family. / 
 
 There was a moment's hesitancy, as if she was decid 
 ing how much to tell him of the past, and then resolving 
 to keep nothing back which he might know, she told him 
 how, with a stunned heart and giddy brain, she had gone 
 to Albany, and mingling with the crowd had mechanical 
 ly followed them down to a boat just starting for New 
 York. That, by some means, she found herself in the sa 
 loon, and seated next to a feeble, deformed little girl, who 
 lay upon the sofa, and whose sweet, childish voice said to 
 her pityingly, 
 
 " Does your head ache, lady, or what makes you so 
 white?" 
 
 She had responded to that appeal, talking kindly to the 
 little girl, between whom and herself the friendliest of re 
 lations were established, and whose name, she learned, was 
 Jenny Ellsworth. The mother she did not then see, as, 
 
334 HUGH WOBTHINGTON. 
 
 during the journey down the river she was suffering from 
 a nervous headache, and kept her room. From the child 
 and child's nurse, however, she heard that Mrs. Ellsworth 
 was going to Europe, and was anxious to secure some 
 competent person to act in the capacity of Jenny's gov 
 erness. Instantly Adah's decision was made. Once in 
 New York she would by letter apply for the situation, for 
 nothing then could so well suit her state of mind as a 
 tour to Europe, where she would be far away from all she 
 had ever known. .Very adroitly she ascertained Mrs. Ells 
 worth's address, wrote her a note the dayYollowing her 
 arrival in New York, and the day following that, found 
 her in Mrs. Ellsworth's parlor at the Brevoort House, 
 where for a few days she was stopping. It bad troubled 
 her somewhat to know what name to take, but she decid 
 ed finally upon Adah Gordon as the one by which she 
 was known ere George Hastings crossed her path, and in 
 her note to Mrs. Ellsworth she signed herself" A GORDON." 
 From her little girl Mrs. Ellsworth had heard much of the 
 " sweet young lady, who was so kind to her on the boat," 
 and was thus already prepossessed in her favor. 
 
 Adah did not tell Dr. Richards, and perhaps she did 
 not herself know how surprised and delighted Mrs. Ells 
 worth was with the fair, girlish creature, announced to her 
 as Miss Gordon, and who won her heart before five min 
 utes were gone, making her think it of no consequence to 
 
 inquire concerning her at Madam 's school, where she 
 
 said she had once been a pupil. 
 
 Naturally very impulsive and unsuspecting, Mrs. Ells 
 worth usually acted upon her likes or dislikes, and Adah 
 was soon installed as governess to the delighted little 
 Jennie, who learned to love her gentle teacher with a love 
 almost amounting to idolatry. 
 
 " You were in Europe, then, and that is the reason why 
 we could not find you," Dr. Richards said, adding, after 
 a moment, " And Irving Stanley went with you was 
 vour companion all the while ? " 
 
THE DESERTER. 335 
 
 "Yes, all the while," and Adah's cold fingers worked 
 nervously at the wisp of hay she was twisting in her 
 hand. " We came home sooner than we intended, as he 
 was anxious to join the army. I had seen him before 
 he was in the cars when Willie and I were on our way 
 to Terrace Hill. Willie had the ear-ache, and he was so 
 kind to us both." 
 
 Adah looked fixedly now at the craven doctor, who 
 could not meet her glance, for well he remembered the 
 dastardly part he had played in that scene, where his own 
 child was screaming with pain, and he sat selfishly idle. 
 
 " She don't know I was there, though," he thought, and 
 that gave him some comfort. 
 
 But Adah did know, and she meant he should know 
 she did. Keeping her eyes still fixed upon him, she con 
 tinued, 
 
 " I heard Mr. Stanley talking of you once to his sister, 
 and among other things he spoke of your dislike for chil 
 dren, and referred to an occasion in the cars, when a lit 
 tle boy, for whom his heart ached, was suffering acutely, 
 and for whom you evinced no interest, except to say that 
 you hated children, and to push his feet from your lap. 1 
 never knew till then that you were so near to me." 
 
 " It's true, it's true," the doctor cried, tears rolling down 
 his soiled face ; " but I never guessed it was you. Lily, I 
 supposed it some ordinary woman." 
 
 /' So did Irving Stanley," was Adah's quiet, cutting an 
 swer ; but his heart was open to sympathy, even for an 
 ordinary woman." 
 
 The doctor could only moan, with his face still hidden 
 in his hands, until a sudden thought like a revelation flash 
 ed upon him, and forgetting his wounded foot, he sprang 
 like a tiger to the spot where Adah sat, and winding his 
 arm firmly around her, whispered hoarsely, 
 
 " Adah, you love Irving Stanley. My wife loves another 
 than her husband." 
 
336 HUGH WORTHIXGTON. 
 
 Adah did not struggle to release herself from his 
 grasp, but 'her whole soul loathed that close embrace, 
 and the loathing expressed itself in the tone of her voice, 
 as she replied, 
 
 " Until within an hour I did not suppose you were my 
 husband. You said you were not in that letter; I have 
 it yet; the one in which you told me it was a mock 
 marriage, as, by your own confession, it seems you meant 
 it should be." 
 
 " Oh, darling, you kill me, yet I deserve it all ; but, 
 Adah, I have suffered enough to atone for the dreadful 
 past ; and I tried so hard to find you. Forgive me, Lily, 
 forgive," and falling again on his knees, the wretched man 
 poured forth a torrent of entreaties. for her forgiveness, 
 her love, without which he should die. 
 
 Holding fast her cold hands, he pleaded with all his 
 eloquence, until, maddened by her silence, he even 
 taunted her with loving another, while her own husband 
 was living. 
 
 Then Adah started, and pushing him away, sprang to 
 her feet, while the hot blood stained her face and neck, 
 and a resentful fire gleamed from her brown eyes. 
 
 " It is not well for you to reproach me with faithless 
 ness," she said, "you, who have dealt so treacherously 
 by me ; you, who deliberately planned my ruin, and would 
 have effected it but for the deeper-laid scheme of one . 
 you say is my father. No thanks to you that I am a law 
 ful wife. You did. not make me so of your own free will. 
 You did to me the greatest wrong a man can do a woman, 
 then cruelly deserted me, and now you would chide me for 
 respecting another more than I do you." 
 
 "Not respecting him, Adah, no, not for respecting him. 
 You should do that. He's worthier than I; but, oh, 
 Adah, Lily, wife, mother of my boy, do you love Irving 
 Stanley ? " 
 
 He was sobbing bitterly, and the words came between. . 
 
THE DESEBTER. 337 
 
 the sobs, while he tried to clutch her dress. Staggering 
 backward against the wooden beam, Adah leaned there for 
 support, while she replied, 
 
 " You would not understand if I should tell you the 
 terrible struggle it was for me to be thrown each day in 
 the society of one as noble, as good as Irving Stanley, and 
 not come at last to feel for him as a poor governess ought 
 never to feel for the handsome, gifted brother of her 
 employer. Oh, George, I prayed against it so much, pray 
 ed to be kept from the sin, if it were a sin, to have Irving 
 Stanley mingled with every thought. But the more I 
 prayed, the more the temptation seemed thrust upon me. 
 The kinder, gentler, more attentive, grew his manners 
 toward me. He never treated me as a mere governess. 
 It was more like an equal at first, and then like a younger 
 sister, so that few strangers took me for a subordinate, so 
 kind were both Mrs. Ellsworth and her brother." 
 
 " And he," the doctor gasped, looking wistfully in her 
 face, " does he do you think he loves you?" 
 
 Adah colored crimson, but answered frankly, 
 
 " He never told me so ; never said to me a word which 
 a husband should not hear ; but sometimes, I've left 
 him abruptly lest he should speak, for that I knew would 
 bring the crisis I so dreaded. I must tell him the whole 
 then, and by my dread of doing this, I knew he was more 
 than a friend to me. I was fearful at first that he might 
 recognize me, but I was much thinner than when I saw 
 him in the cars, while my hair, purposely worn short, and 
 curling in my neck, changed my looks materially, so that 
 he only wondered whom I was so much like, but never 
 suspected the truth." 
 
 There was silence, a moment, and then the doctor asked, 
 " How is all this to end ? " 
 
 The question brought into Adah's eyes a fearful look of 
 anguish, but she did not answer, and the doctor spoke 
 again. 
 
 15 
 
338 HUGH TVOBTIIIXGTOX. 
 
 " Have I found Lily only to lose her ? " 
 
 Still there was no reply, and the doctor continued, " You 
 are my wife, Adah. No power can undo that, save death, 
 and you are my child's mother. For Willie's sake, oh 
 Adah, for Willie's sake, forgive." 
 
 When he appealed to her as his wife, Adah seemed turn 
 ing into stone ; but the mention of Willie, touched the 
 mother, and the iceberg melted at once. 
 
 " For Willie, my boy," she gasped, " I could do 
 almost anything ; I could die so willingly, but but 
 oh, George, that ever we should come to this. You a 
 deserter, a traitor to your country lame, disabled, whol 
 ly in my power, and begging of me, your outcast wife, for 
 the love which surely is dead dead. No, George, I do 
 forgive, but never, never more can I be to you a wife." 
 
 There was a rising resentment now in the doctor's man 
 ner, as he answered reproachfully : " Then surrender me 
 at once to the lover hunting for me. Let him take me 
 back where I can be sh.ot, and that will leave you free." 
 
 Adah raised her hand deprecatingly, and when he had 
 finished, rejoined: "You mistake Maj. Stanley, if you 
 think he would marry me, knowing what I should tell 
 him. Itfs not for him that I refuse. It's for myself. 1 
 could not bear it. I " 
 
 " Stay, Adah, Lily, don't say you should hate me ;" and 
 the doctor's voice was so full of anguish that Adah involun 
 tarily advanced toward him, standing quite near, while he 
 begged of her to say if the past could not be forgoten. 
 His family were anxious to receive her. Sweet Anna 
 Millbrook already loved her as a sister, while he, her 
 husband, words could not tell his love for her. He would 
 do whatever she required ; go back to the Federal army 
 if she said so; seek for the pardon he was sure to gain ; 
 fight for his country like a hero, periling life and limb, if 
 she would- only give him the shadow of a hope. 
 
 " I must have time to think. I cannot decide aione," 
 
THE DESERTER. 339 
 
 Adah answered, -while the doctor clutched her dress, half 
 shrieking with terror, 
 
 " You surely will not consult Major Stanley ? " 
 
 " No," and Adah spoke reverently, " there's a mightier 
 friend than he. One who has never failed me in my need. 
 He will tell rne what to do." 
 
 The doctor knew now what she meant, and with a moan 
 he laid his head again upon the hay, wishing, so much 
 that the lessons taught him when in that little attic chain 
 her, years ago, he knelt by Adah's side, and said with her, 
 " Our Father," had not been all forgotten. When he 
 lifted up his face again, Adah was gone, but he knew she 
 would return, and waited patiently while just outside the 
 door, with her fair face buried in the sweet Virginia 
 grass, and the warm summer sunshine falling softly upon 
 her, poor half-crazed Adah fought and won the fiercest 
 battle she had ever known, coming off conqueror over selfj 
 and feeling sure that God had heard her earnest cry for 
 help, and told her what to do. There was no wavering 
 now ; her step was firm ; her voice steady, as she went 
 back to the doctor's side, and bending over him, said, 
 
 " 1 will nurse you, till you are well ; then you must go 
 back whence you came, confess your fault, rejoin your reg 
 iment, and by your faithfulness wipe out the stain" of de 
 sertion. Then, when the war is over, or you are honora 
 bly discharged, I will be your wife. I may not love 
 you at first as once I did, but I shall try, and He, who 
 counsels me to tell you this will help me, I am sure." 
 
 It was almost pitiful now to see the doctor, as he crouch 
 ed at Adah's feet, kissing her hands and blessing her 
 'mid his tears. " He would be worthy of her, and they 
 should yet be so happy." 
 
 Adah suffered him to caress her for a moment, and 
 then told him she must go, for Mrs. Ellsworth would 
 wonder at her long absence, and possibly institute a 
 search. Pressing one more kiss upon her hand the doc- 
 
340 HUGH WOBTHINGTON. 
 
 tor crept back to his hiding place, while Adah went slow 
 ly back to the house where she knew Irving Stanley was 
 anxiously waiting for her. She dared not meet him alone 
 now, for latterly each time they had so met, she had kept 
 at bay the declaration trembling on his lips, and which 
 must never be listened to. So she staid away from the 
 pleasant parlor where all the morning he sat chatting 
 with his sister, who guessed how much he loved the beau 
 tiful and accomplished girl, her daughter's governess. 
 
 Right-minded and high-principled, Mrs. Ellsworth had 
 conquered any pride she might at first have felt any re 
 luctance to her brother's marrying her governess, and 
 now like him was anxious to have it settled. Bujb Adah 
 gave him no chance that day, and late in the afternoon 
 he rode back to his regiment wondering at the change in 
 Miss Gordon, and why her face was so deadly white, and 
 her voice so husky, as she bade him good-bye. 
 
 Poor Adah ! Hers was now a path of suffering, such 
 as she had never known before. But she did her duty to 
 the doctor, nursing him with the utmost care ; but never 
 expressing to him the affection she did not feel. It was 
 impossible to keep his presence there a secret from the 
 two old negroes, and knowing she could trust them, she 
 told them of the wounded Union soldier, enlisting their 
 sympathies for him, and thus procuring for him the care 
 of older and more experienced people than herself. 
 
 He was able at length to return, and one pleasant sum 
 mer night, just three weeks after his arrival at Sunnymead, 
 Adah walked with him to the woods, and kneeling with 
 him by a running stream, whose waters farther away 
 would yet be crimson with the blood of our slaughtered 
 brothers, she commended him to God. Through the leafy 
 branches the moon-beams were shining, and they show 
 ed to Adah the expression of the doctor's wasted face, as 
 he said to her at parting, " I have kissed you many times, 
 my darling, but you have never returned it. Please do 
 
THE SECOND BATTLE OF BULL BUN". 341 
 
 so once, for the sake of the olden time. It will make me 
 a better soldier." 
 
 She kissed him once for the sake of the olden time, and 
 when he whispered, " Again for Willie's sake," she kissed 
 him twice, and then she bade him leave her, herself but 
 toning about him the soldier coat which her own hands 
 had cleaned and mended and made respectable. She was 
 lad afterward that she had done so ; glad, too, that she 
 had kissed him and waited by the tree, where, looking 
 backward, he could see the flutter of her white dress un 
 til a turn in the forest path hid her from his view. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 THE SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN. 
 
 
 
 The second disastrous battle of Bull Run was over, 
 and the shadow of a summer night wrapped the field of 
 carnage in darkness. Thickly upon the battle field lay 
 the dead and dying, the sharp, bitter cries of the latter 
 rising on the night wind, and adding tenfold to the horror 
 of the scene. In the woods, not very far away, more 
 than one brave soldier was weltering in his life-blood, just 
 where, in his rapid flight, he had fallen, the grass his pil 
 low, and the leafy branches of the forest trees his only 
 covering. 
 
 Near to a running brook one wounded man was sup 
 porting another and trying to staunch the purple gore, 
 pouring darkly from a fearful bullet wound in the region 
 of the heart. The stronger of the two, he who wore a 
 major's uniform, had come accidentally upon the other, 
 writhing in agony, and muttering at intervals snatches of the 
 prayer with which he once had been familiar, and which 
 seemed to bring Lily back to him again, just as she was 
 
342 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 when in the attic chamber she made him kneel by her, and 
 say " Our Father." He tried to say it now, and the whis 
 pered words caught the ear of Irving Stanley, arresting 
 his steps at once. 
 
 " Poor fellow ! it's gone hard with you," he said, kneel 
 ing by the sufferer, whom he recognized as the deserter, 
 Dr. Richards^ who had returned to his allegiance, had 
 craved forgiveness for his sins, and been restored to the 
 ranks, discharging his duties faithfully, and fighting that 
 day with a zeal and energy which did much in reinstating 
 him in the good opinion of those who witnessed his dar 
 ing bravery. 
 
 But the doctor's work was done, and never from his 
 lips would Lily know how well his promise had been 
 kept. Giddy with pain and weak from the loss of blood, 
 he had groped his way through the woods, fighting back 
 the horrid certainty that to-morrow's sun would not rise 
 for him, and sinking at length exhausted upon the grass, 
 whose freshness was now defaced by the blood which 
 poured so freely from his wound. 
 
 It was thus that Irving Stanley found him, starting at first 
 as from a hissing shell, and involuntarily clasping his 
 hand over the place where lay a little note, received a 
 few days before, a reply to the earnest declaration of love 
 he had at last written to his sister's governess. There 
 was but one alternative, and Adah met it resolutely, though 
 every fibre of her heart throbbed with keen agony as she 
 told to Irving Stanley the story of her life. She was a 
 wife, a mother; the sister of Hugh Worthington, they 
 said, the Adah for whom Dr. Richards had sought so long 
 in vain, and for whom Murdoch, the wicked father, was 
 seeking still for aught she knew to the contrary. Even 
 the story of the doctor's secretion in the barn at Sunnay- 
 mead was confessed. Nothing was withheld except the 
 fact that even as he professed to love her, so she in turn 
 loved him, or had done so before she knew it was a sin. 
 
THE SECOXD BATTLE OF BULL UTHST. 348 
 
 Surprise had, for a few moments stifled every other emo 
 tion, and Irving Stanley sat like one suddenly bereft of 
 life, when he read who Adah was. Then came the bitter 
 thought that he had lost her, mingled with a deep feeling 
 of resentment towards the man who had so cruelly wrong 
 ed the gentle girl, and who alone stood between him and 
 happiness. For Irving Stanley could overlook all the 
 rest. His great warm heart, so full of kindly sympathy 
 and generous charity for all mankind could take to its 
 embrace the fair sweet woman he had learned to love 
 so much, and be a father to her little boy, as if it had 
 been his own. But this might not be. There was a 
 mighty obstacle in the way, and feeling that it mattered 
 little now whether he ever came from the field alive, Ir 
 ving Stanley, with a whispered prayer for strength to bear 
 and do right, had hidden the letter in his bosom, and then, 
 when the hour of conflict came, plunged into the thickest 
 of the fight with a fearlessness born of keen and recent 
 disappointment, which made life less valuable than it had 
 been before. 
 
 It is not strange, then, that he should start and stagger 
 backward when he came so suddenly upon the doctor, or 
 that the first impulse of weak human nature was to leave 
 the fallen man ; but the second, the Christian impulse, bade 
 him stay, and forgetting his own slight but painful wound, 
 he bent over Adah's husband, and did what he could to 
 alleviate the anguish he saw was so hard to bear, At 
 the sound of his voice, a spasm of pain passed over the 
 doctor's pallid face, and the flash of a sudden fire gleamed 
 for a moment in his eye, as he, too, remembered Adah, 
 and thought of what might be when the grass was grow 
 ing over his untimely grave. 
 
 The doctor knew that he was dying, and yet his first 
 question was 
 
 " Do you think I can live ? Did any one ever recover 
 with such a wound as this ? " 
 
344 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 Eagerly the dim eyes sought the face above them, the 
 kind, good face of one who would not deceive him. Ir 
 ving shook his head as he felt the pulse, and answered frank- 
 
 iy, 
 
 " I believe you will die." 
 
 There was a bitter moan, as all his misspent life came 
 up before him, followed closely by the dark future, where 
 there shone no ray of hope, and then with the desperate 
 thought, " It's too late now for regrets. I'll meet it like 
 a man," he said, 
 
 " It may as well be I as any one, though it's hard even 
 for me to die ; harder than you imagine ; " then, growing 
 excited as he talked, he raised himself upon his elbow, 
 and continued, " Major Stanley, tell me truly, do you love 
 the woman you know as Adah Gordon ? " 
 
 " I did love her before I knew I must not but now 
 I yes, Dr. Richards, my heart tells me that never 
 was she so dear to me as now when her husband lies dy 
 ing at my side." 
 
 Irving Stanley hardly knew what he was saying, but 
 the doctor understood, and almost shrieked out the 
 words, 
 
 " You know then that she is Adah, a wife, a mother, 
 and that I am her lawful husband ? " 
 
 "I know the whole," was the reply, as with his hand 
 Irving dipped water from the brook and laved the fever 
 ish brow of the dying man, who went on to speak of 
 Adah as she was when he first knew her, and of the few 
 happy months spent with her in those humble lodgings. 
 
 " You don't know my darling," he whispered. " She's 
 an angel, and I might have been so happy with her. Oh, 
 if I could only live, but that can't be now, and it is well. 
 Come close to me, Major Stanley, and listen while I tell 
 you that Adah promised if I would do my duty to my 
 country faithfully, she would live with me again, and all 
 the while she promised, her heart was breaking, for she 
 
THE SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN. 345 
 
 did not love me. It had all died out for me. It had been 
 . given to another ; can you guess to whom ? " 
 
 Irving made no reply, except to chafe the hands which 
 clasped his so tightly, and the doctor continued, 
 
 " I am surely dying I shall never see her more, or my 
 beautiful boy. I was a brute in the cars ; you remember 
 the time. That was Adah, and those little feet resting 
 on my lap were Willie's, baby Willie's, Adah's baby." 
 
 The doctor's mind was wandering now, and he kept on 
 disconnectedly, 
 
 " She's been to Europe with him. She's changed from 
 the shy girl into a queenly woman. Even the Richards 
 line might be proud of her bearing, and when I'm gone, 
 tell her I said you might have Willie, and and it 
 grows very dark ; the noise of the battle drowns my voice, 
 but come nearer to me, nearer tell her tell Adah, you 
 may have her. She needn't mourn, nor wait ; but carry 
 me back to Snowdon. There's no soldier's grave there 
 yet. I never thought mine would be the first. Anna 
 will cry, and mother and Asenath and Eudora ; but^Adah, 
 oh Lily, darling. She's coming to me now. Don't you 
 hear that rustle in the grass ? " and the doctor listened in 
 tently to a sound which also caught Irving's ear, a sound 
 of a horse's neigh in the distance, followed by a tramp of 
 feet." 
 
 " Hush-sh," he whispered. " It may be the enemy," but 
 his words were not regarded, or understood. 
 
 The doctor was in Lily's presence, and in fancy it was 
 her hand, not Irving's which wiped the death-sweat from 
 his brow, and he murmured words of love and fond en 
 dearment, as to a living, breathing form. Fainter and 
 fainter grew the pulse, weaker and weaker grew the trem 
 bling voice, until at last Irving could only comprehend 
 that some one was bidden to pray to say " Our Father." 
 
 Reverently, as for a departing brother, he prayed over 
 15* 
 
346 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 the dying man, asking that all the past might be forgiven, 
 and that the erring might rest at last in peace. 
 
 " Say Amen for me, I'm too vyeak," the doctor whisper 
 ed; then, as reason asserted her sway again, he continued, 
 " I see it now ; Lily's gone, and I am dying here in the 
 woods, in the dark, in the night, on the ground ; cared for 
 by you who will be Lily's husband. You may, you may, 
 tell her I said so ; tell her kiss my boy ; love him, Major 
 Stanley ; love him as your own, even though others shall 
 call you father. Tell her I tried to pray " 
 
 He never spoke again ; and when next the thick, black, 
 clotted blood oozed up from the gaping wound, it brought 
 with it all there was of life ; and there in those Virginia 
 woods, in the darkness of the night, Irving Stanley sat 
 alone with the dead. And yet not alone, for away to his 
 right, and where the neigh of a horse had been heard, 
 another wounded soldier lay his soft, brown locks moist 
 with dew, and his captain's uniform wet with the blood 
 which dripped from the terrible gash in the fleshy part of 
 the neck, where a murderous ball had been. One arm, 
 the right one, was broken, and lay disabled upon the 
 grass; while the hand of the other clutched occasionally 
 at the damp grass, and then lifting itself, stroked caress 
 ingly the powerful limbs of the faithful creature standing 
 guard over the prostrate form of his master. 
 
 Hugh and Rocket ! They had been in many battles, 
 and neither shot nor shell had harmed them until to-day, 
 when Hugh had received the charge which sent him reel 
 ing from his horse, breaking his arm in the fall, and scarce 
 ly conscious that two of his comrades were leading him 
 from the field. How or by what means he afterwards 
 reached the woods, he did not know, but reached them he 
 had, and unable to travel further, he had fallen to the 
 ground, where he lay, until Rocket came galloping near, 
 riderless, frightened, and looking for his master. With a 
 <ny of joy the noble brute answered that master's faint 
 
HUGH AND SAM. 347 
 
 whistle, bounding at once to his side, and by many mute 
 but meaning signs, signifying his desire that Hugh should 
 mount as heretofore. 
 
 But Hugh was too- weak for that, and after several 
 ineffectual efforts to rise, fell back half fainting on the turf; 
 while Rocket took his stand directly over him, a powerful 
 and efficient guard until help from some quarter should 
 arrive. Patiently, faithfully he stood, waiting as quietly 
 as if he knew that aid was coming, not far away, in the 
 form of an old man, whose hair was white as snow, and 
 whose steps were feeble with age, but who had the ad 
 vantage of knowing every inch of that ground, for he had 
 trodden it many a time, with a homesick heart which pined 
 for " old Kentuck," whence he had been stolen. 
 
 Uncle Sam ! He it was whose uncertain steps made 
 Rocket prick up his ears and listen, neighing at last a 
 neigh of welcome, by which he, too, was recognized. 
 
 "De dear Father be praised if that be'nt Rocket hisself, 
 I've found him, I've found my Massah Hugh. I tole Miss 
 Ellis I should, 'case I knows all de way. Dear Massah 
 Hugh, I'se Sam, I is," and with a convulsive sob the old 
 negro knelt beside the white-faced man who, but for this 
 timely aid, could hardly have survived that fearful night. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 HUGH AND SAM. 
 
 It is more than a year now since last we looked in upon 
 the inmates of Spring Bank, and during that time Kentuc 
 ky had been the scene of violence, murder, and bloodshed. 
 The roar of artillery had been heard upon its hills. Sol 
 diers wearing the Federal uniform had marched up and 
 
348 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 down its beaten paths, encamping for a brief season in 
 its capital, and then departing to other points where their 
 services were needed more. 
 
 Morgan, with his fierce band of guerillas, had carried 
 terror, dismay, and sometimes death, to many a peaceful 
 home ; while Harney, too, disdaining open, honorable war 
 fare, had joined himself, it was said, to a horde of savage 
 marauders, gathered, some from Texas, some from Mis 
 sissippi, and a few from Tennessee ; but none, to her credit 
 be it said, none from Kentucky, save their chief, the JRebel 
 Harney, who, despised and dreaded almost equally by 
 Unionists and Confederates, kept the country between 
 Louisville and Lexington in a constant state of excite 
 ment. 
 
 As the storm grew blacker, it had seemed necessary for 
 Colonel Tiffton openly to avow his sentiments, and not 
 "sneak between two fires, for fear of being burned," as 
 Harney wolfishly told him one day, taunting him with 
 being a " villainous Yankee," and hinting darkly of the 
 punishment preparing for all such. 
 
 The colonel was not cowardly, but, as was natural, he 
 did lean to the Confederacy. "Peaceful separation, if 
 possible," was his creed ; and fully believing the South 
 destined to triumph, he took that side at last, greatly to 
 the delight of his high-spirited Nell, who had been a Rebel 
 from the first. With a look of reproach which the Colonel 
 never forgot, Alice Johnson listened to his reasons for 
 joining himself with the Secessionists, but when at the 
 close of his arguments he kindly advised her to be a little 
 more careful in expressing her opinions, saying there was 
 no knowing what Harney, who was known to be bitterly 
 prejudiced against Spring Bank, might be tempted to do, 
 her blue eyes flashed proudly as she replied, " I should be 
 unworthy of the state which gave me birth, were I afraid 
 to say what I think. No, I am not afraid ; and should 
 Harney, with his whole band of marauders, attack our 
 
HUGH AND SAM. 349 
 
 house, he will find at least one who is not a coward. I 
 would not deny my country to save my life. Still, I do 
 not think it right to expose myself unnecessarily to dan 
 ger, and as Mrs. Worthington is very timid, and very 
 anxious to go North, where there is safety, I too have 
 concluded that it is best to leave Spring Bank for a time. 
 Aunt Eunice, who is afraid of nothing, will remain in 
 charge of the house, while you, we hope, will have a care 
 for the negroes until we return, or Hugh, if that time 
 ever comes," and Alice's voice trembled as she thought 
 how long it was since they had heard from Hugh, three 
 months having elapsed since a word had come to them 
 from him. 
 
 Col. Tiffton was glad Alice was going North, for in 
 those excited times he knew not what harm might befall 
 her, alone and unprotected as she was at Spring Bank. 
 He would willingly take charge of the negroes, he said, 
 and he kindly offered to do whatever he could to expe 
 dite her departure. Alice would not confess to him that 
 the great object of her going North was the hope she had 
 of being nearer Hugh, for it was arranged between her 
 self and Mrs. Worthington that, after stopping for a few 
 days in Snowdon they should go on to Washington where 
 some tidings might be received of the soldier, and where 
 they might perhaps hear from Adah, who had not yet 
 been found. This was Alice's plan, and after receiving 
 the Colonel's approbation, she communicated it to the ne 
 groes, telling it first to Sam, who begged earnestly to go 
 with her. 
 
 " Don't leave me, Miss Ellis. Take me 'long, please 
 take me to Massah Hugh. I'se quite peart now, and kin 
 look 'after Miss Ellis a heap." 
 
 Alice could not promise till she had talked with Mrs. 
 Worthington, who offered no objection, and it was arrang 
 ed that with Densie, Sam, and Lulu, they should start at 
 once for Snowdon. Accordingly, one week after Alice's 
 
350 HUGH WORTHINGTON'. 
 
 conversation with Col. Tiffton she bade adieu to Spring 
 Bank and was on Ijer way to the North, where there was 
 safety and quiet. 
 
 * . * * * * * 
 
 Anna Millbrook's eyes were dim with tears, and her 
 heart was sore with pain, when told that Alice Johnson 
 was waiting for her in the parlor below. Only the day 
 before had she heard of her brother's disgrace, feeling as 
 she heard it, how much rather she would that he had died 
 ere there were so many stains upon his name. But Alice 
 would comfort her, and she hastened to' meet her. Sit 
 ting down beside her, she talked with her long of all that 
 had transpired since last they met ; talked of Adah, and 
 then of Willie, who at Alice's request, was taken by her to 
 the hotel, where Mrs. Worthington was stopping. He 
 had grown to be a most beautiful and engaging child, 
 and Mrs. Worthington justly felt a thrill of pride as she 
 clasped him to her bosom, weeping over him passionately. 
 She could scarcely bear to lose him from her sight, and 
 when later in the day Anna came down for him, she beg 
 ged hard for him to stay. But Willie preferred returning 
 with Mrs. Millbrook, who promised that he should come 
 every day so long as Mrs. Worthington remained at the 
 hotel. 
 
 As soon as Mrs Richards learned that Mrs. Worthing 
 ton and Alice were in town, she insisted upon their com 
 ing to Terrace Hill. There were the pleasant chambers 
 fitted up for 'Lina, they had never been occupied, and 
 Mrs. Worthington could have them as well as not ; or 
 better yet could take Anna's old chamber, with the lit 
 tle room adjoining, where Adah used to sleep. Mrs. 
 Worthington preferred the latter, and removed with Al 
 ice to Terrace Hill, while at Anna's request Densie went 
 to Riverside Cottage, where she used to live, and where 
 she was much happier than she would have been with 
 strangers. 
 
HUGH AND SAM. 351 
 
 !N"ot long however could Mrs. Worthington remain con 
 tentedly at Snowdon, and after a time Alice started with 
 her and Lulu for Washington, taking with them Sam, who 
 seemed a perfect child m his delight at the prospect of 
 seeing " Massah Hugh." From a soldier returning home 
 on furlough they heard that he was with his Regiment, 
 but to see him was not so easy a matter. Indeed, he 
 seemed farther off at Washington than he had done at 
 Spring Bank, and Alice sometimes questioned the propri 
 ety of having left Kentucky at all. They were not very 
 comfortable at Washington, and as Mrs. Worthington 
 pined for the pure country air, Alice managed at last to 
 procure board at the house of a friend whose acquaintance 
 she had made at the time of her visits to Virginia. It was 
 some distance from Washington, and so near to Bull Run 
 that when at last the second battle was fought in that 
 vicinity, the roar of the artillery was distinctly heard, 
 and they who listened to the noise of that bloody conflict 
 knew just when the battle ceased, and thought with tearful 
 anguish of the poor, maimed, suffering wretches left to 
 bleed and die alone. They knew Hugh must have been 
 in the battle, and Mrs, Worthington's anxiety amounted 
 almost to insanity, while Alice, with blanched cheek and 
 compressed lip, could only pray silently thut he might be 
 spared. Only Sam thought of acting. 
 
 " Now is my time," he said to Alice, as they stood talk 
 ing together of Hugh, and wondering if he were safe. 
 " Something tell me Massah Hugh is hurted somewhar, 
 and I'se gwine to find him. I knows all de way, an' every 
 tree round dat place. I can hide from de 'Federacy. 
 Dem Rebels let ole white-har'd nigger look for young 
 massab, and I'se gwine. P'raps I not find him, but I 
 does somebody some good. I helps somebody's Massah 
 Hugh." 
 
 It seemed a crazy project, letting that old man start off 
 on so strange an errand, but Sam was determined. 
 
352 HUGH WORTIIINGTON. 
 
 " He had a 'sentiment," as he said, " that Hugh was 
 wounded, and he must go to him." 
 
 In his presentiment Alice had no faith ; but she did 
 not oppose him, and at parting she said to him hesitating- 
 
 iy, 
 
 "Sam, did you, do you, has it ever occurred to 
 you that your master cared particularly for me ; that is, 
 
 cared, you know how," and Alice blushed scarlet 
 while Sam replied eagerly, " Yes, Miss, Sain got mizzable 
 memory, but he knows dat ar, and it passes him what 
 Massah Hugh done jine de army for, when he might stay 
 home and haved Miss Ellis just as Sam pray he might so 
 long. Massah Hugh and Miss Ellis make good span. I 
 tell Massah. Shall I ? " 
 
 " Not unless you find him wounded and believe him 
 dying, then, you may tell him, tell him that I said 
 
 I loved him ; and had he ever come back, I would have 
 been his wife." 
 
 " I tells him," was Sam's reply, as he departed on his 
 errand of mercy, which proved not to be a fruitless one, 
 for he did find his master, and falling on his knees beside 
 him, uttered the joyful words we have before repeated. 
 
 To the faint, half-dying Hugh that familiar voice from 
 home and that dusky form bending ove$ him so pityingly, 
 seemecl more like a dream than a reality. He could not 
 comprehend how Sam came there, or what he was saying 
 to him. Something he heard of ole Miss and Snow-down, 
 and Washington ; but nothing was real until he caught 
 the name of Alice^ and thought Sam said she was there. 
 
 "Where," Sam where?" he asked, trying to raise 
 himself upon his elbow. "Is Alice here, did you say? " 
 
 "No, massah; not 'zactly here but on de road. If 
 massah could ride, Sam hold him on, like massah oncet 
 held on ole Sam, and we'll get to her directly. They's 
 kind o' Secesh folks whar she is, but mighty good to her. 
 She knowed 'em 'fore, 'case way down here is whar Sam 
 
HUGH AND SAM. 353 
 
 was sold dat time Miss Ellis corned and show him de road 
 to Carfan. Miss Ellis tell me somethin' nice for Massah 
 Hugh, ef he's dyin' suffin make him so glad. Is you 
 dyin', massah ? " 
 
 " I hardly think I am as bad as that. Can't you tell 
 unless I am near to death ? " Hugh said ; and Sam repli- 
 ed, 
 
 " No, massah ; dem's ray orders. * Ef he's dyin', Sam, 
 tell him I' dat's what she say. Maybe you is dyin', 
 massah. Feel and see ! " 
 
 " It's possible," and something like his old mischievous 
 smile played round Hugh's white lips as he asked how a 
 chap felt when he was dying. 
 
 " I'se got mizzable mem'ry, and I don't justly 'member," 
 was Sam's answer ; " but I reckons he feel berry queer and 
 choky berry." 
 
 " That's exactly my case, so you may venture to tell," 
 Hugh said ; and getting his face close to that of the young 
 man, Sara whispered " She say, ' Tell massah Hugh I 
 I' you's sure you's dyin' ? " 
 
 " I'm sure I feel as you said I must," Hugh replied, 
 and Sam went on. " ' Tell him 1 loves him ; and ef he 
 lives I'll be his wife.' Dem's her A r ery words, nigh as I 
 can 'member but what is massah goin' to do " he con 
 tinued, in some surprise, as Hugh attempted to rise. 
 
 " Do, I'm going to Alice," was Hugh's reply, as with a 
 moan he sank back again, too weak to rise alone. 
 
 "Then you be'nt dyin', after all," was Sam's rueful 
 comment, as he suggested, "Ef massah only clamber onto 
 Rocket." 
 
 This was easier proposed than done, but after several 
 trials Hugh succeeded ; and, with Sam steadying him 
 while he half lay on Rocket's neck, he proceeded slow 
 ly and safely through the woods, meeting at last with 
 some Unionists, who gave him what aid they could, and 
 did not leave him until they saw him safely deposited in 
 
354 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 an ambulance, which, in spite of his entreaties, took him 
 direct to Georgetown. It was a bitter disappointment to 
 Hugh, so bitter, indeed, that he scarcely felt the pain 
 when his broken arm was set; and when, at last, he was 
 left alone in his narrow hospital bed, he turned his face to 
 the wall, and cried, just as many a poor, homesick soldier 
 had done before him, and will do again. 
 
 Twenty-four hours had passed, and in Hugh's room it 
 was growing dark again. All the day he had watched anx 
 iously the door through which visitors would enter, asking 
 repeatedly if no one had called for him ; but just as the 
 sun was going down he fell away to sleep, dreaming at 
 last that Golden Hair was there that her soft, white 
 hands were on his brow, her sweet lips pressed to his, 
 while her dear voice murmured softly, " Darling Hugh ! " 
 
 There was a cry of pain from a distant corner, and 
 Hugh awoke to know it was no dream the soft hands 
 on his brow, the kiss upon his lips for Golden Hair was 
 there; and by the tears she dropped upon his face, and 
 the caresses she gave him, he knew that Sam had told 
 him truly. For several minutes there was silence between 
 them, while the eyes looked into each other with a deep 
 er meaning than words could have expressed ; then 
 smoothing back his damp brown hair, and* letting her fin 
 gers still rest upon his forehead, Alice whispered to him, 
 " I loved you, Hugh, when you left home, and I hoped 
 that first note would have told you so. I wish it had, for 
 then we need not have been separated so long." 
 
 Winding his well arm round her neck, and drawing her 
 nearer to him, Hugh answered, 
 
 " It was best just as it is. Had I been sure of your 
 love, I should have found it harder to leave home. My 
 country needed me. I am glad I have done what I could 
 to defend it. Glad that I joined the army, for Alice, dar- 
 
GOING HOME. 355 
 
 ling, Golden Hair, in my lonely tent reading that little 
 Bible you gave me so long ago, the Saviour found me, and 
 now 7 , whether I live or not, it is well, for if I die, I am 
 sure you will be mine in Heaven ; and if I live " 
 
 Alice finished the sentence for him, 
 
 " If you live, God willing, I shall be your wife. Dear 
 Hugh, I bless the Good Father, first for bringing you to 
 Himself, and then restoring you to me." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 GOING HOME. 
 
 The village hearse was waiting at Snowdon depot, and 
 close beside it stood the carriage from Terrace Hill ; the 
 one sent there for Adah, the other for her husband, whose 
 life-blood, so freely shed, had wiped away all stains upon 
 his memory, and enshrined him in the hearts of Snowdon's 
 people as a martyr. He was, the first dead soldier returned 
 to them, his the first soldier's grave in their churchyard ; 
 and so a goodly throng were there, with plaintive fife and 
 muffled drum, to do him honor. His major was coming with 
 him, it was said -Major Stanley, who had himself been 
 found in a half-fainting condition watching by the dead 
 Major Stanley, who had seen that the body was embalmed, 
 had written to the wife, and had attended to everything, 
 even to coming on himself by way of showing his respect. 
 Death is a great softener of errors ; and the village people* 
 who could not remember a time when they had not dis 
 liked John Richards, forgot his faults now that he was 
 dead. 
 
 It seemed a long time waiting for the train, but it came 
 at last, and the crowd involuntarily made a movement 
 forward, and then drew back as a tall figure appeared up- 
 
356 HUGH WOKTHISTGTO1*. 
 
 on the platform, his uniform betokening an officer of rank, 
 and his manner showing plainly that he was master of 
 ceremonies. 
 
 " Major Stanley," ran in a whisper through the crowd, 
 whose wonder increased when another, and, if possible, a 
 finer-looking man, emerged into view, his right arm in a 
 sling, and his face pale and worn, from the effects of recent 
 illness. He had not been expected, and many curious 
 glances were cast at him as, slowly descending the steps, 
 he gave his hand to Mrs. Worthington following close 
 behind. They knew her, and recognized also the two 
 young ladies, Alice and Adah, as they sprang from the car. 
 Poor Adah ! how she shrank from the public gaze, shud 
 dering as, on her way to the carriage, she passed the long 
 box the men were handling so carefully. 
 
 Summoned by Irving Stanley, she had come on to 
 Washington, and while there, had learned that Mrs. Wor 
 thington, Hugh, and Alice were all in Georgetown, whither 
 she hastened at once. Immediately after the discovery 
 of her parentage, she had written to Kentucky, but the 
 letter had not reached its destination, consequently no 
 one but Hugh knew how near she was ; and he had only 
 learned it a few days before the battle, when he had, by 
 accident, a few moments' conversation with Dr. Richards, 
 whom he had purposely avoided. He was talking of Adah, 
 and the practicability of sending for her, when she arrived 
 at the private boarding-house to which he had been re 
 moved. 
 
 The particulars of that interview between the mother 
 and her daughter we cannot describe, as no one witnessed 
 it save God ; but Adah's face was radiant with happiness, 
 and her eyes beaming with joy when it was ended, and 
 she went next to where Hugh was waiting for her. 
 
 "Oh, Hugh, my noble brother ! " was all she could say, 
 as she wound her arms around his neck and pressed her 
 cheek against his own, forgetting, in those moments of 
 perfect bliss, all the sorrow, and anguish of the past. 
 
GOING HOME. 357 
 
 Nor was it until Hugh said to her, u The doctor was in 
 that battle, did be escape unharmed ? " that a shadow 
 dimmed the sunshine flooding her pathway that autumn 
 morning. 
 
 At the mention of him, the muscles about her mouth 
 grew rigid, and a look of pain flitted across her face, 
 showing that there was yet much of bitterness mingled in 
 her cup of joy. Composing herself as soon as possible 
 she told Hugh that she was a widow, but uttered no word 
 of complaint against the dead, and Hugh, knowing that 
 she could not sorrow as other women have sorrowed over 
 the loved ones slain in battle, drew her nearer to him, and 
 kissing her tenderly, said, " Your home shall be with me 
 and Golden Hair who has promised to be my wife." 
 
 Then he asked what Major Stanley's plan was concern 
 ing the body of her husband, and upon learning that it 
 was to bury the doctor at home, he announced his de 
 termination to accompany them, as he knew he should be 
 able to do so. 
 
 It was a great trial to Adah to face the crowd they 
 found assembled at the depot, but Irving, Hugh, and 
 Alice all helped to screen her from observation, and al- 
 most'before she was aware of it she 'found hers.elf safe in 
 the carriage, which effectually hid her from view. Slow 
 ly the procession moved through the village, the foot 
 passengers keeping time to the muffled drum, whose sol 
 emn beats had never till that morning been heard in the 
 quiet streets. The wide gate which led into the grounds 
 of Terrace Hill was opened wide, and the black hearse 
 passed in, followed by the other carriages, which wound 
 round the hill and up to the huge building where badges 
 of mourning were hung out for the only son, the young 
 est born, the once pride and pet of the stately woman 
 who watched the coming of that group with tear-dim 
 eyes, holding upon her lap the little boy whose father 
 they were bringing in, dead, coffined for the grave. Not 
 
358 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 for the world would that high-bred woman have been 
 guilty of an impropriety, and so she sat in her own room, 
 while Charlie Mill brook met the bearers in the hall and 
 told them where to deposit their burden. 
 
 In the same room where we first saw him on the night 
 of his return from Europe they left him, and went their 
 way, while to Dixon and Pamelia was accorded the honor 
 of first welcoming Adah, whom they treated with as much 
 deference as if she had never been with them in any ca 
 pacity save that of mistress. She had changed since 
 they last saw her was wonderfully improved, they said 
 to each other as they left her at the door of the room, 
 where Mrs. Richards, with her two older daughters, was 
 waiting to receive her. But if the servants were struck 
 with the air of dignity and cultivation which Adah ac 
 quired during her tour in Europe, how much more did 
 this same air impress the haughty ladies who had felt a 
 little uncertain as to how they should receive her. Any 
 doubts, however, which they had upon this subject were 
 dispelled the moment she entered the room, arid they 
 saw at a glance that it was not the timid, shrinking Adah 
 Gordon with whom they had to deal, but a woman as whol 
 ly self-possessed as themselves, and one with whose bear 
 ing even their critical eyes would find no fault. She 
 would not suffer them to patronize her; they must treat 
 her fully as an equal or as nothing, and with a new-born 
 feeling of pride in her late son's widow, Mrs. Richards 
 arose, and putting Willie from her lap, advanced to meet 
 her, cordially extending her hand, but uttering no word 
 of welcome. Adah took the hand, but her eyes never 
 sought the face of her lady mother. They were riveted 
 with a hungry, wistful, longing look on Willie, who, cling 
 ing to his grandmother's skirts, peered curiously at her, 
 holding back at first, when; unmindful of Asenath and 
 Eudora, who had not yet been greeted, she tried to take 
 him in her arms. 
 
GOING HOME. 359 
 
 " Oh, Willie, darling, don't you know me ! I am poor 
 mam-ma," and Adah's voice was choked with sobs at this 
 unlooked-for reception from her child. 
 
 He had been sent for from Anna's home to meet his 
 mother, because it was proper ; but no one at Terrace 
 Hill had said to him that the mamma for whom Anna 
 taught him daily to pray, was coming. She was not in 
 his mind ; and as eighteen months had obliterated all 
 memories of the girlish creature he once knew as moth 
 er, he could not immediately identity that mother with 
 the lady before him. 
 
 It was a sad disappointment to Adah, and without 
 knowing what she was doing, she sank down upon the 
 sofa, and involuntarily laying her head in Mrs. Richards' 
 lap, cried bitterly, her tears bringing answering ones from 
 the eyes of all three of the ladies, for they half believed 
 her grief, in part, was for the lifeless form in the room be 
 low. 
 
 "Poor child, you are tired and worn. It is hard to 
 lose him just as there was a prospect of perfect reconcili 
 ation with us all," Mrs. Richards said, softly smoothing 
 the brown tresses lying on her lap, and thinking even 
 then that curls were more becoming to her daughter-in- 
 law than braids had been, but wondering why, now she 
 was in mourning, Adah had persisted in wearing them. 
 
 "Pretty girl, pretty turls, is you tyin?" and won by 
 her distress, Willie drew near, and laid his baby hand 
 upon the curls he thought so pretty. 
 
 " That's mamma, Willie," Asenath said ; " the mamma 
 Aunt Anna said would come some time Willie's mam 
 ma. Can't he kiss her ? " 
 
 The child could not resist the face which, lifting itself 
 up, looked eagerly at him, and he put up his little hands 
 for Adah to take him, returning the kisses she showered 
 upon him, and clinging to her neck, while he said, 
 
 " Is you mam-ma sure ? I prays for main-ma God 
 
360 HUGH WORTIIINGTON. 
 
 take care of her, and pa-pa too. He's dead. They 
 brought him back with a dum. Poor pa-pa, Willie 
 don't want him dead ; " and the little lip began to quiv 
 er. 
 
 Never since she knew she was a widow had Adah felt 
 so vivid a sensation of something akin to affection for 
 the dead, as when her child mourned so plaintively for 
 papa ; and the tears which now fell like rain were not 
 for Willie alone. 
 
 " Mrs. Richards has not yet greeted us," Asenath said ; 
 and turning to her at once, Adah apologized for her 
 seeming neglect, pressing both her and Eudora's hands 
 more cordially than she would have done & few moments 
 before. 
 
 " Where is Anna ? " she asked ; and Mrs. Richards 
 replied, 
 
 " She's sick. She regretted much that she could not 
 come up here to-day ; " while Willie, standing in Adah's 
 lap, with his chubby arm around her neck, chimed in, 
 
 " You don't know what we've dot. We've dot 'ittle 
 baby, we has." 
 
 Adah knew now why Anna was absent, and why Char 
 lie Millbrook looked so happy when at last he came in to 
 see her, delivering sundry messages from his Anna, who, 
 he said, could scarcely wait to see her dear sister. There 
 was something genuine in Charlie's greeting, something 
 which made Adah feel as if she were indeed at home, 
 and she wondered much how even the Richards race could 
 ever have objected 'to him, as she watched his movements 
 and heard him talking with his stately mother. 
 
 " Yes, Major Stanley came," he said, in reply to her 
 question, and Adah was glad it was put to him, for the 
 blushes dyed her cheek at once, and she bent over Willie 
 to hide them, while Charlie continued, "Captain Wor- 
 thington came, too. He was in the same battle with the 
 doctor, was wounded rather seriously, and has been dis 
 charged, I believe." 
 
GOING HOME. 361 
 
 "Oh," and Mrs. Richards seemed quite interested, 
 asking where the young men were, and appearing disap 
 pointed when told that, after waiting a few moments in 
 hopes of seeing the ladies, they had returned to the ho 
 tel, where Mrs. Worthington and Alice were stopping. 
 
 "I fully expected the ladies here ; pray, send for them 
 at once," she said, but Adah interposed. 
 
 " Her mother would not willingly be separated from 
 Hugh, and as he of course would remain at the hotel, it 
 would be useless to think of persuading Mrs. Worthing 
 ton to come to Terrace Hill." 
 
 " But Miss Johnson surely will come," persisted Mrs. 
 Richards. 
 
 Adah could not explain then that Alice was less likely 
 to leave Hugh than her mother, but she said, " Miss 
 Johnson, will not leave mother alone," and so the matter 
 was settled. 
 
 It was a terribly long day to Adah, and she was glad 
 when towards its close Alice was announced as being in 
 the reception room. She had driven round, to call on 
 Mrs. Richards, and after that take Adah with her to the 
 cottage, where Anna, she knew, was anxious to receive 
 her. At first Mrs. Richards demurred, fearing it would 
 be improper, but saying, " My late son's wife is of course 
 her own mistress, and can do as she likes." 
 
 Very adroitly Alice waived all objections, and bore Adah 
 off in triumph. 
 
 " I knew you must be lonely up there," she said, as they 
 drove slowly along, "and there can be no harm in visiting 
 one's sick sister." 
 
 Anna surely did not think there was, as her warm, 
 welcoming kisses fully testified. 
 
 " I wanted so much to see you to-day," she said, ** that 
 I have worked myself into quite a fever ; but knowing 
 mother as I do, I feared she might not sanction your com 
 ing ; " then proudly turning down the blanket, she disulos- 
 16 
 
362 HUGH WOETHINGTON. 
 
 ed the red-faced baby, who, just one week ago, had come 
 to the Riverside Cottage. 
 
 " Isn't he a beauty ? " she asked, pressing her lips upon 
 the wrinkled forehead. " A boy, too, and looks so much 
 like Charlie, but " and her soft, blue eyes seemed more 
 beautiful than ever with the maternal love shining from 
 them. " I shall not call him Charles, nor yet John, though 
 mother's heart is set on the latter name. I can't. I loved 
 my brother dearly, and never so much as now that he is 
 dead, but my baby-boy must not bear his name, and so I 
 have chosen Hugh, Hugh Richards. I know it will please 
 you both," and she glanced archly at Alice, who blushingly 
 kissed the little boy named for her promised husband. 
 
 They talked of Hugh awhile, and then Anna spoke of 
 Irving Stanley, expressing her fears that she could not see 
 him to thank him for his kindness and forbearance to her 
 erring brother. 
 
 " He must be noble and good," she said, then turning to 
 Adah, she continued. "You know him well. Do you like 
 him ? " 
 
 " Yes," and Adah's face was all ablaze, as the simple 
 answer dropped from her lips. 
 
 For a moment Anna regarded her intently, then her 
 eyes were withdrawn and her white hand beat the coun 
 terpane softly, but nothing more was said of Irving Stan- 
 
 iy- 
 
 The next day near the sun-setting, they buried the dead 
 soldier, Mrs. Richards and Adah standing side by side 
 as the body was lowered to its last resting place, the 
 older leaning upon the younger for support, and feeling as 
 she went back to her lonely home and heard the merry 
 laugh of little Willie in the hall that she was glad her son 
 had married the young girl, who, now that John was gone 
 forever, began to be very dear to her as his wife, the Lily 
 whom he had loved so much. In the dusky twilight of 
 that night when alone with Adah, she told her as much, 
 
GOING HOME. 363 
 
 speaking sadly of the past, which she regretted, and wish 
 ing she had never objected to receiving the girl about 
 whom John wrote so lovingly. 
 
 " Had I done differently he might have been living now, 
 and you have been spared much pain, but you'll forgive 
 me. I'm an old woman'. 1 am breaking fast, and soon 
 shall follow my boy, but while I live I wish for peace, and 
 yOu must love me, Lily, because I was his mother," and the 
 hand of her who had conceded so much, rested entreat- 
 ingly upon the bowed head of the young girl beside her. 
 There was no acting there, Adah knew, and clasping the 
 trembling hand she involuntarily whispered, 
 
 " I will love you, my mother. 
 
 " And stay with me, too ? " Mrs. Richards continued, 
 her voice choked with the sobs she could not repress, when 
 she heard herself called mother by the girl she had so 
 wronged. "Anna is gone, my other daughters are old. We 
 are lonely in this great house. We need somebody young 
 to cheer our solitude, and you will stay, as mistress, if 
 you choose, or as a petted youngest daughter." 
 
 This was an unlocked for trial to Adah. She had not 
 dreamed of living at Terrace Hill. But Adah had never 
 consulted her own happiness, and as she listened to the 
 pleading tones of the woman who surely had some heart, 
 some noble qualities, she felt that 'twas her duty to remain 
 there for a time at least, and so she replied at last, 
 
 " I expected to live with my own mother, but for the 
 present my home shall be here with you." 
 
 " God bless you, darling," and the proud woman's lips 
 touched the fair cheek, while the proud woman's hand 
 smoothed again the soft short curls, pushing them back 
 from the white brow, as she murmured, " You are very 
 beautiful, my child, just as John said you were." 
 
 It was hard for Adah to tell Mrs. Worthington that she 
 could not make one of the circle who would gather around 
 the home fireside, but she did at last, standing firmly by 
 
364 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 her decision, and saying in reply to her mother's entreaties, 
 " It is my duty. They need me more than you, who have 
 both Hugh and Alice." 
 
 Adah was right, so Hugh said, and Alice, too, while 
 Irving Stanley said nothing. He must have found much 
 that was attractive about the little town of Snowdon, for 
 he lingered there long after there was not the least excuse 
 for staying. He did not go often to Terrace Hill, and 
 when he did, he never asked for Adah, but so long as he 
 could see her on Sundays when, with the Richards' family, 
 she walked quietly up the aisle, her cheek flushing as she 
 passed him, and so long as he occasionally met her at Mrs. 
 Worthington's rooms, or saw her riding in the Richards 
 carriage, so long was he content to stay. But there came 
 a time when he must go, and then he asked for Adah, and 
 in the presence of her mother-in-law invited her to go 
 with him to her husband's grave. She went, taking Willie 
 with her, and there, with that fresh mound between them, 
 Irving Stanley told her what the dying soldier had said, 
 and asked if it should be so. 
 
 " Not now, not yet," he continued, as Adah's eyes were 
 bent upon that grave, " but by and by, will you do your 
 husBand's bidding and be my wife ? " 
 
 " I will," and taking Willie s hand Adah put it with hers 
 into the broad, warm palm which clasped them both, as 
 Irving whispered, " Your child shall be mine, and never 
 need to know that I am not his father." 
 
 It was arranged that Alice should tell Mrs. Richards, as 
 Adah would have no concealments. Accordingly, Alice 
 asked a private interview with the lady, to whom she told 
 everything as she understood it. And Mrs. Richards, 
 though weeping bitterly, generously exonerated Adah 
 from all blame, commended her as having acted wisely, 
 and then added, with a flush of pride : 
 
 " Many a woman would be glad to marry Irving Stanley, 
 and it gives me pleasure to know that to my sou's widow 
 
GOING HOME. 365 
 
 the honor is accorded. He is worthy to take John's place, 
 and she, I believe, is worthy of him. I love her already 
 as my daughter, and shall look upon him as a son. You 
 say they are in the garden. Let them both come to me." 
 
 They came, and listened quietly, while Mrs. Richards 
 sanctioned their engagement, and then, with a little eulogy 
 upon her departed son, said to Adah, " You will wait a 
 year, of course. It will not be proper before." 
 
 Irving had hoped for only six months' probation, but 
 Adah was satisfied with the year, and they went from 
 Mrs. Richards' presence with the feeling that Providence 
 was indeed smiling upon their pathway, and flooding it 
 with sunshine. 
 
 The next day Major Stanley left Snowdon, but not un 
 til there had come to Hugh a letter, whose handwriting 
 made Mrs. Worthington turn pale, it brought back so 
 vividly the terror of the olden time. It was from Mur 
 doch, and it enclosed for Mrs. Worthington the sum of 
 five hundred dollars, "I have no reason for thinking you 
 rich," he wrote, "and should she need more I will try to 
 send it as some atonement for the past." 
 
 Then, after speaking of his fruitless search for Adah, 
 and his hearing at last that she was found and Dr. Rich 
 ards dead, he added, " As there is nothing left for me to 
 do, and as I am sure to be playing mischief if idle, I have 
 joined the army, and am training a band of contrabands 
 to fight as soon as the government comes to its senses, 
 and is willing for the negroes to bear their part in the 
 battle." 
 
 , The letter ended with saying that he should never come 
 out of the war alive, simply because it would last until 
 he was too old to live any longer. 
 
 It was a relief for Mrs. Worthington to hear from him, 
 and know that he probably would not trouble her again, 
 while Adah, whose memories of him were pleasanter, ex 
 pressed a strong desire to see him. 
 
366 HUGH WOKTHINGTON. 
 
 " We will find him by and by, when you are mine," Irv 
 ing said playfully and drawing her into an adjoining room, 
 where they could be alone, he said his parting words, and 
 then with Hugh went to meet the train which took him 
 away from Snowdon. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 The New England hills were tinged with that peculiar 
 purplish haze, so common to the Indian summer time, and 
 the warm sunlight of November fell softly upon Snowdon, 
 whose streets were full of eager, expectant people all 
 hurrying on to the old brick church, and quickening their 
 steps with every stroke of the merry bell, pealing 
 so joyfully from the tall, dark tower. The Richards' 
 carriage was out, and waiting before the door of the Riv 
 erside cottage,for the appearance of Anna, who was this 
 morning to venture out for a short time, leaving her 
 baby Hugh alone. Another, and handsomer carriage, was 
 standing before the hotel, where Hugh and his mother 
 were stopping, and where, in a pleasant private room, Ad 
 ah Richards helped Alice Johnson make her tasteful toil 
 et, smoothing lovingly the rich folds of greyish colored 
 silk, arranging the snowy cuffs and collar, and then bring 
 ing the hat of brown Neapolitan, with its pretty 
 face trimmings of blue, and declaring it a shame to cover 
 up the curls of hair falling so luxuriously about the face 
 and neck of the blushing bride. For it was Alice's' wed 
 ding day, and in the room adjoining, Hugh Worthington 
 stood, waiting impatiently the opening of the mysterious 
 door which Adah had shut against him, and wondering if, 
 after all, it were not a dream that the time was coming 
 
CONCLUSION. 367 
 
 fast when neither bolts nor locks would have a right to 
 keep him from his wife. 
 
 It seemed too great a joy to be true, and by way 
 of re-assuring himself he had to look often at the crowds 
 of people hurrying by, and down upon old Sam, who, in 
 full dress, with white cotton gloves drawn awkwardly up 
 on his cramped distorted fingers, stood by the carriage, 
 bowing to all who passed, himself the very personification 
 of perfect bliss. 
 
 " Massah Hugh the perfectest massah," he said, " and 
 Miss Ellis a little more so; " adding that though "Canaan 
 was a mighty nice place, he 'sumed, he'd rather not go 
 thar jist yet, but live a leetle longer to see them 'joy 
 themselves. Thar they comes dat's Miss in grey. She 
 knows how't orange posies and silks and satins is proper 
 for wecldin' nights ; but she's gwine traveling and dat's 
 why she corned out in dat stun-color, Sam'll be blamed if 
 he fancies." And having thus explained Alice's choice of 
 dress, the old negro held the carriage door himself, while 
 Hugh, handing in his mother, sister, and his bride, took 
 his seat beside them, and was driven to the church. 
 
 Twenty minutes passed, and then the streets were filled 
 again ; but now the people were going home, talking as 
 they went of the beauty of the bride, and of the splendid- 
 looking bridegroom, who looked so fondly at her as she 
 murmured her responses, kissing her first himself when 
 the ceremony was over, and letting his arm rest for a mo 
 ment around her slender form. No one doubted its be 
 ing a genuine love-match, and all rejoiced in the happiness 
 of the newly married pair, who, at the village depot 
 were waiting for the train which would take them on their 
 way to Kentucky, for that was their destination. 
 
 In the distracted condition of the country Hugh's pres 
 ence was needed there ; for, taking advantage of his ab 
 sence, and the thousand rumors afloat touching the Proc 
 lamation one of his negroes had already ran away in com- 
 
HUGH WORTHING TON. 
 
 pany with some half-dozen of the Colonel's, who, in a ter 
 rible state of excitement, talked seriously of emigrating 
 to Canada. Hugh's timely arrival, however, quieted him 
 somewhat, though he listened in sorrow, and almost with 
 tears, to Hugh's plan of selling the Spring Bank farm and 
 removing with his negroes to some New England town, 
 where Alice, he knew, would be happier than she had 
 been in Kentucky. But a purchaser for Spring Bank was 
 not so easily found in those dark days ; and so, doing 
 with his land the best he could, he called about him his 
 negroes, and giving to each his freedom, proposed that 
 they stay quietly where they were until Spring, when he 
 hoped to find them all employment on the farm he was 
 to buy in New England. 
 
 Aunt Eunice who understood managing blacks better 
 than his mother or his inexperienced wife, was to be 
 his housekeeper in that new home of his, where the 
 Colonel and his family would always be welcome ; and 
 having thus provided for those for whom it was his duty 
 to care, he returned to Snowdon in time to join the 
 Christmas party at Terrace Hill, where Irving Stanley was 
 a guest, and where, in spite of the war-clouds darkening 
 our land, and in spite of the sad, haunting memories of 
 the dead, there was much of hilarity and joy reminding 
 the villagers of the olden time when Terrace Hill was 
 filled with gay revelers. Anna Millbrook was there, more 
 beautiful than in her girlhood, and excessively fond of her 
 missionary Charlie, who she laughingly declared was per 
 fectly incorrigible on the subject of surplice and gown, 
 adding that as "the mountain would not go to Mahomet, 
 Mahomet must go to the mountain ; " and so she was fast 
 becoming an out-and-out Presbyterian of the very bluest 
 stripe. 
 
 Sweet Anna ! None who looked into her truthful, lov 
 ing face, or knew the consistency of her daily life, could 
 doubt that whether Presbyterian or Episcopal in senti- 
 
CONCLUSION. 369 
 
 ment, the heart was right and the feet were treading 
 the narrow path which leadeth unto life eternal. 
 
 It was a happy week spent at Terrace Hill ; but one 
 heart ached to its very core when, at its close, Irving 
 Stanley went back to where duty called him, trusting 
 that the God who had succored him thus far, would shield 
 him. from future harm, and keep him safely till the com 
 ing autumn, when, with the first falling of the leaf, he 
 would gather to his embrace his darling beautiful Adah. 
 
 On the white walls of a handsome country seat just 
 on the banks of the Connecticut, the light of the April 
 sunset falls, and the soft April wind kisses the fair cheek 
 and lifts the golden curls of the young mistress of Spring 
 Bank for so, in memory of the olden time, Hugh and 
 Alice have named their new home. Arm in arm they 
 walk up and down the terraced garden, talking softly of 
 the way they have been led, and gratefully ascribing all 
 praise to Him who rules and overrules, but doeth nought 
 save good to those who love Him. 
 
 Down in the meadow-land and at the rear of the build 
 ing, dusky forms are seen the negroes, who have come 
 to their Northern home, and with them the runaway. 
 Ashamed of his desertion he has returned to his former 
 master, resenting the name of contraband, and denounc 
 ing the ultra-abolitionist as humbugs, who deserved put 
 ting in the front of every battle. Hugh knows it will be 
 hard accustoming these blacks to Northern usages but 
 as he has their good in view, he feels sure that in time 
 he will succeed, and cares but little for the opinion of 
 those who wonder what he " expects to do with that lazy 
 lot of niggers." 
 
 On a rustic seat, near a rear door, white-haired old 
 Sam is sitting, listening intently, while dusky Mug, reads 
 to him from the book of books, the one he prizes above 
 
370 HUGH WORTHINGTON. 
 
 all else, stopping occasionally to expound, in his own 
 way, some point which he fancies may not be clear to 
 her, likening every good man to "Massah Hugh," and 
 every bad one to the leader of the " Suddern Federacy," 
 whose horse he declares he held once in "ole Virginny," 
 telling Mug, in an aside, " how, if 'twant wicked, nor 
 agin de scripter, he should most wish he'd put beech-nuts 
 under Massah Jeffres' saddle, and so broke his fetch-ed 
 neck, 'fore he raise sich a muss, runnin' calico so high 
 that Miss Ellis 'clar she couldn't 'ford it, and axin' fifteen 
 cents for a paltry spool of cotton." 
 
 In the stable-yard, Claib, his good-humored face all 
 aglow with pride, is exercising Rocket, who arches his 
 neck as proudly as of old, and dances mincingly around, 
 while Lulu leans over the gate, watching not so much 
 him as the individual who holds him. And now that it 
 grows darker, and the ripple of the river sounds more 
 like eventide, lights gleam from the pleasant parlor where 
 Mrs. Worthington and Aunt Eunice are sitting by the 
 cheerful fire, just kindled on the marble hearth. Thither 
 Hugh and Alice repair, while one by one the negroes come 
 quietly in, and kneeling side by side, follow with stam 
 mering tongues, but honest hearts, their beloved master 
 as he says first the prayer our Saviour taught, and then 
 with words of thankful praise asks God to bless and 
 keep him and his in the days to come, even as he has 
 blessed and kept them in the days gone by. 
 
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