XVI.
With a heavy heart, in midst of all her joy, Hetty went about her duties: vague fears oppressed her. What would Eben do now? What had he meant when he said: “You are no longer mine, even in name”?
Now that Hetty perceived that she had been wrong in leaving him; that, instead of providing, as she had hoped she should, for his greater happiness, she had only plunged him into inconsolable grief,—her one desire was to atone for it; to return to him; to be to him, if possible, more than she had ever been. But great timidity and apprehension filled her breast. He seemed to be angry with her. Would he forgive her? Would he take her home? Had she forfeited her right to go home? Hour after hour, as the weary day went on, she tortured herself with these thoughts. Wistfully her patients watched her face. It was impossible for her to conceal her preoccupation and anxiety. At last the slow sun sank behind the fir-trees, and brought her hour of release. Seeking Dr. Macgowan, she told him that she would send Sister Catharine on the next day “to take my place for the present, perhaps altogether,” said Hetty.
“Good heavens! Mrs. Smailli!” exclaimed the doctor. “What is the matter? Are you ill? You shall have a rest; but we can't give you up.”
“No, I am not ill,” replied Hetty, “but circumstances have occurred which make it impossible for me to say what my plans will be now.”
“What is it? Bless my soul, what shall we do?” said Dr. Macgowan, looking very much vexed. “Really, Mrs. Smailli, you can't give up your post in this way.”
The doctor forgot himself in his dismay.
“I would not leave it, if there were no one to fill it,” replied Hetty, gently; “but Sister Catharine is a better nurse than I am. She will more than fill my place.”
“Pshaw! Mrs. Smailli,” ejaculated the doctor. “She can't hold a candle to you. Is it any thing about the salary which is taking you away? I will raise it: you shall fix your own price.”