As Colonel Houston recovered from the fatigue of his journey, and convalesced under the genial influences of his quiet home and native air, Nellie often left him to spend a day with Mrs. Helmstedt. And as often as otherwise she found Ralph Houston there before her.
“That is right, Ralph,” she one day said, approvingly, “I shall be sure to tell Franky, when I write, what care you take of his little sweetheart.”
“Sweetheart?” repeated Ralph, with a grave, displeased look.
“Yes, sweetheart, or ladylove, if you like it better. Didn’t you know that my Franky and little Margaret were cut out for each other?”
“Really, no, nor do I know it now.”
“Well, I inform you; so don’t go too far, my fine fellow.”
Ralph was silent. These remarks affected him despite his reason, and raised into importance many trifling incidents until now unnoticed, such as the raillery of Margaret upon the subject of Franky by Dr. Hartley; the favorite keepsakes of Margaret, all gifts of Franky; and finally, the frequent correspondence between the young collegian and the island maiden. Then Frank was handsome, gay, near the age of the young girl, and had been her intimate companion for years. All this looked very illy ominous to the hopes of Ralph, but he generously resolved to investigate the case, and if he found an incipient attachment existing between the youth and maiden, to withdraw at once from the rivalship, at whatever cost to his own feelings. This conversation with Mrs. Houston had occurred one Saturday afternoon, as he was taking that lady from Helmstedt’s Island to the Bluff. So anxious became Ralph Houston upon this subject, that after seeing his stepmother safe home, he turned about and rowed swiftly to the island, and entered the parlor just as Mrs. Helmstedt had received the weekly mail.
“I felt sure you would return and join us in discussing the news brought by this post; and it is glorious, at last. This paper contains an account of the repulse of Proctor from before Fort Stevenson, by the gallant Croghan! Do read it,” said Mrs. Helmstedt, passing the paper to Mr. Houston.
“And here I am yet!” impatiently exclaimed Ralph, as he took the paper and sat down to assure himself of the contents. But frequently, in the course of his perusal, he glanced over the edge of the sheet at Margaret, who sat absorbed in the letter she was reading—now smiling, now looking grave, and anon with eyes swimming in tears.
“Yes, it was a brilliant action, and Lieutenant Croghan is a true hero,” he said, as he finished the perusal and laid the paper aside. But his eyes were fixed on the maiden. Mrs. Helmstedt noticed this and said: