But little did Miss Elinor care for her anger. The world to her was brighter now than it had been for many years, and with something of a mother’s love, her heart went out toward the orphan to whom she had given a home. Adelaide, however, was not forgotten, and the good lady was certainly excusable if, when riding with her protege, she did frequently order Jim to take them round to High Street, bidding him drive slowly past the house of the Huntingtons. But if in this way she thought to obtain a glimpse of Adelaide, she was mistaken, for the young lady was never visible, though, safely hidden behind the curtain, she herself seldom failed to see the carriage and the little figure in black, who she instinctively felt would some day be her rival.
The bitterest drop of all in Adelaide’s cup of mortification was the knowledge that Mr. Howland had once thought to make her his wife, for he told her so in a letter written three weeks subsequent to Mr. Warren’s death. It is true he had never committed himself by words, but he had done so by actions, and honor demanded an explanation. So he wrote at last, and though it was a most polite and gentlemanly note, its contents stung her to her inmost soul, and casting it into the fire she watched it as it turned to ashes, feeling the while as if her own heart were charred and blistered with its load of guilt and shame. There were no more trips to Springfield now, for concealment of labor was no longer necessary, and the satchel Miss Elinor taunted her brother with having carried so often, lay useless upon the closet shelf.
“I’ll die before I’ll do that—father may support us,” Adelaide had said when her mother suggested that they take in sewing from Mr. Howland’s store.
And Mr. Huntington did do his best toward maintaining his family, but popular opinion was against him. He had defrauded his employer once—he might do so again—and so all looked upon him with distrust, making it sometimes very hard for him to procure even the common necessaries of life. His health, too, had become impaired, both by exposure and the mental anguish he had so long endured, and night after night his labored breathing and hacking cough smote painfully on the ear of his wife, whose love no circumstances could destroy.
One morning, toward the middle of February, he left them as usual, but he was soon brought back with a broken limb, which he had received from a fall upon the ice. For him to work was now impossible, and Adelaide no longer objected when her mother proposed that Peggy should be sent for sewing to Mr. Howland, who gave it to her readily, manifesting much concern for Mr. Huntington, whom Peggy represented as being in a most deplorable condition.
Two or three days afterward, as he was leaving the store, he received a message from the sick man, who wished to see him, and in a short time he stood at the bedside of Mr. Huntington, who told, in a few words, why he had been sent for.
They could not keep that house—they must rent a cheaper one, and if no tenant for the brown house in the hollow had been obtained, would Mr. Howland let him have it? He would try hard when he got well to pay the rent, and the strong man’s eyes filled with tears, just as little Alice Warren’s had done when words similar to these escaped her lips.
Yes, he could have it, Mr. Howland said, and the sum he asked for it was just what Mr. Warren had paid; then fearing lest Adelaide by chance should enter the room, he hastened away, pondering upon the changes which a few short weeks had brought to the haughty girl, who, when she heard of her father’s arrangement, flew into a violent rage, declaring she would kill herself before she’d live in that little shanty.
But neither her wrath nor her tears could shake her father’s determination, and when the first April sun had set, and the warm spring moon had risen, wretched, hopeless and weary, Adelaide Huntington crept up to her bed beneath the rafters, covering her head with the sheet, lest she should see the white-haired, sightless specter, which, to her disordered fancy, seemed haunting that low-roofed dwelling.