“Silence!” and Hugh’s foot came down as it sometimes did when chiding a refractory negro. “She is as true, yes, truer than you. He who should have protected her has basely deserted her. And I shall care for her. See that a fire is kindled in the west chamber, and go up yourself when it is made and see that all is comfortable. Do you understand?” and he gazed sternly at ’Lina, who was too much astonished to answer, even if she had been so disposed.
That Hugh should take in a beggar from the streets was bad enough, but to keep her, and worse yet to put her in the best chamber, where ex-Governor Russ had slept; and where was nailed down the carpet, brought from New England—was preposterous, and Hugh was certainly crazy. But never was man more sane than Hugh; and seeing her apparently incapable of carrying out his orders he himself sent Hannah to build the fire, bidding her, with all a woman’s forethought, be careful that the bed was aired, and clothes enough put on. “Take a blanket from my bed, if necessary,” he added, as Hannah, bewildered with the “carryin’s on,” disappeared up the staircase, a long line of smoke streaming behind her.
When all was ready, Hugh went for Adah, and taking her in his arms carried her to the upper chamber, where, the fire was burning brightly, casting cheerful shadows upon the wall, and making Adah smile gratefully, as she looked up in his face, and murmured,
“God bless you, Mr. Worthington! Adah will pray for you to-night, when she is alone. It’s all that she can do.”
They laid her upon the bed. Hugh himself arranging her pillows, which no one else appeared inclined to touch.
Family opinion was against her, innocent and beautiful as she looked lying there—so helpless, so still, with her long-fringed lashes shading her colorless cheek, and her little hands folded upon her bosom, as if already she were breathing the promised prayer for Hugh. Only in Mrs. Worthington’s heart was there a chord of sympathy. She couldn’t help feeling for the desolate stranger; and when, at her own request, Hannah placed Willie in her lap, ere laying him by his mother, she gave him an involuntary hug, and touched her lips to his fat, round cheek. It was the first kiss given him at Spring Bank, and it was meet that it should come from her.
“He looks as you did, Hugh, when you were a baby,” she said, while Chloe rejoined,
“De very spawn of Mar’s Hugh, now. I ’tected it de fust minit. Can’t cheat dis chile,” and, with a chuckle which she meant to be very expressive, the fat old woman waddled from the room, followed by Hannah, who was to sleep there that night, and who must first return to her cabin to make the necessary preparations for her vigils.
Hugh and his mother were alone, and turning to her son, Mrs. Worthington said, gently,
“This is sad business, Hugh; worse than you imagine. Do you know how folks will talk?”