“Gone to bed these two hours.”
“And now you must go, my dear little one. Come and kiss me close, and then, good-night.”
The elf sprang to his neck, squeezing him tightly, and rooting herself into his bosom, as though she would grow there, and then suddenly springing off, bounded from the room.
The little supper standing before him did not tempt his appetite. With another retrospective glance of contempt at the physician’s advice, he turned to the table and poured out and swallowed glass after glass of wine. Then, without heeding the mail-bag that hung upon the chair, or ringing for a servant to clear off the things, or even closing up the house, as was his invariable custom, he arose and retired to his chamber.
At this same hour, on the turnpike road, about six miles distant from Mount Calm, plunged on through darkness, mire, and driving rain, a one-horse chaise, occupied by two travelers—Dr. Hardcastle and Mrs. Garnet. They traveled on in perfect silence for two hours before reaching the grounds of Mount Calm. But, upon passing the outer gate and entering upon the premises, Alice became nervous and uneasy, and at length she asked:
“Magnus, do you feel positively assured that he has received my letter, that he is prepared and expecting to see me?”
“Without a doubt, dear Mrs. Garnet, he got your letter to-day at noon; assuredly, late as it is, he must be now expecting us.”
“I wonder if he really does. I wonder if he has spread the news among the people of the plantation! It is really necessary to know, dear Magnus. Else my sudden and unexpected apparition among them will cause a general alarm and rouse the neighborhood.”
“Very true, and at the first quarter I come to I will alight and find out.”