“Strange! How strange it is that I love that wild child more and more—need her love more and more every hour that I live! Strange, passing strange, that with all her willfulness, I love that half-savage, but most beautiful thing, better than I ever loved anyone in the wide world! Oh, it is not strange, after all! It is because she loves me thoroughly—with every fiber of her soul and body; because I can trust in her, for she hides nothing from me—not even her childish anger.”
Dr. Hardcastle returned to Huttontown, and to the tavern, where he was to lodge that night. He intended to retire early, preparatory to a very early start the next morning. But first it was necessary to go to Mr. Fig’s for the purpose of making a few purchases of articles that had been forgotten in his first packing up.
When he entered the grocery he saw, to his surprise, Hugh Hutton behind the counter, ready to serve him.
“Well, my boy,” said he, extending his hand, “I am surprised and happy to see you again.”
“Oh, doctor! have you really turned back? I am so very glad!” exclaimed Hugh, his countenance actually illuminated with joy.
“Yes, my boy. We had proceeded but a day’s journey, when we heard of Mrs. Garnet’s death, and came back.”
“Where is Mrs. Hardcastle? Is she at the inn?”
“No, my boy; finding that we came too late for the funeral I took Mrs. Hardcastle immediately back to Deep Dell, where she now sojourns, waiting for me. I found it necessary to come back a second time. I have traveled the road between Huttontown and Deep Dell forth and back twice within a week, Hugh; and to-morrow morning, at five o’clock, I make the third start.”
“The old folks say that there is great luck in the third attempt,” said Hugh.