“Do one of you do something,” Hugh said, as he saw how indisposed both his mother and sister were to help, the former being too much frightened and the latter too indignant to act.
The idea of a strange woman being thrust upon them in this way was highly displeasing to Miss ’Lina, who haughtily drew back from the little one when it stretched its arms out toward her, while its pretty lip quivered and the tears dropped over its rounded cheek. To her it was nothing but an intruder, a brat, and so she steeled her heart against its touching appeal, and turned her back upon it, leaving for Rover the kindly office of soothing the infant.
Meantime Hugh, with all a woman’s tenderness, had done for the now reviving stranger what he could, and as his mother began to collect her scattered senses and evince some interest in the matter, he withdrew to call the negroes, judging it prudent to remain away awhile, as his presence might be an intrusion. From the first he had felt sure that the individual thrown upon his charity was not a low, vulgar person, as his sister seemed to think. He had not yet seen her face distinctly, for it lay in the shadow, but the long, flowing hair, the delicate hands, the white neck, of which he had caught a glimpse as his mother unfastened the stiffened dress, all these had made an impression, and involuntarily repeating to himself, “Poor girl,” he strode a second time across the drifts which lay in his back yard and was soon pounding at old Chloe’s cabin door, bidding her and Hannah dress at once and come immediately to the house.
“They will need hot water most likely,” he thought and returning to the kitchen he built the fire himself and then sat down to wait until such time as it was proper for him to appear again in the sitting-room, where a strange scene was enacting.
The change of atmosphere and the restoratives applied had done their work, and Mrs. Worthington saw that the long eyelashes began to tremble, while a faint color stole into the hitherto colorless cheeks, and at last the large, brown eyes unclosed and looked into hers with an expression so mournful, that a thrill of yearning tenderness for the desolate young creature shot through her heart, and bending down she said, kindly, “Are you better now?”
“Yes, thank you. Where is Willie?” was the low response, the tone of the voice thrilling Mrs. Worthington with an undefinable emotion. Even ’Lina started, it was so low, so sweet, so musical, and coming near she answered “If it’s the baby you mean, he is here, playing with our dog, Rover.”
There was a look of gratitude in the brown eyes, while the white lips moved slowly, and Mrs. Worthington caught the whispered words of thanksgiving that baby Willie was safe.
“Where am I?” she said next, “and is he here? Is this his house?”
“Whose house?” Mrs. Worthington asked. “Whom are you looking for?”
The girl did not answer at once, and when she did her mind seemed wandering.