Not see Herbert, and he ill? What could be the matter? He was well but yesterday.
Mr. Bristed’s strange manner, coupled with Richard’s absence and the fearful events of the night, seemed likely to turn my brain.
He saw my startled look of inquiry, and said, “Be quiet awhile; I have something of importance which I will communicate to you by-and-by, when you are composed.”
“Mary,” he ordered, “ring the bell for breakfast to be sent hither; meanwhile, Miss Reef, while awaiting our coffee, if you will walk with me in the conservatory I will take pleasure in showing you my tropical curiosities.”
I followed him languidly with wandering thoughts. Gradually, however, I grew interested and listened with increased attention to his animated description of the homes and haunts of the wonders by which he was surrounded. He had visited many climes, and gathered each strange flower and plant he had seen in its native clime. He became eloquent and genial as he described the strange habits and peculiarities of his floral companions, which he seemed to regard as a species of humanity; to him they were not inanimate existences—creations—but objects endowed with soul and sensation.
While we were thus conversing, Mary announced that breakfast was ready, and I reluctantly accompanied him to the library. He almost compelled me to eat, selecting for me dainty morsels to tempt my appetite.
Mr. Bristed evidently labored under some mental disquiet, which he evinced by undue efforts at cheerfulness.
Breakfast being removed I sought to withdraw from the room, but he requested me to remain, and dismissing Mary, seated himself in an easy chair next the ottoman on which I rested, and warming his hands over the fire, his eyes bent upon the blaze, said, with an abruptness that was natural to him:
“I am not accustomed to concern myself about strangers, Miss Reef, but in you I have felt a peculiar interest since the day we first met. You will remember I warned you then that you were too young for the responsibility which I foresaw awaited you. I feared at that time that Richard, on seeing so bright a flower, would endeavor to snatch it from its stem. My fears have been realized; you see I am acquainted with what has taken place, and now the hour has come when you and I must part.”
“Oh no,” cried I gaspingly, “not yet, not yet.”