“You are sorry?” Mug said, interpreting her looks aright.
“Yes, I am sorry. I want to see your master, Hugh. I mean to like him very much.”
“I’ll tell him dat ar,” thought Muggins. “I ’members how’t he say oncet that nobody done love him,” and, spying Claib in the distance, the little tattler ran off to tell him how beautiful the new missus was, and how she let her smooth her har, all she wanted to.
CHAPTER XX.
POOR HUGH.
Could Hugh have known the feelings with which Alice Johnson already regarded him, and the opinion she had expressed to Muggins, it would perhaps have stilled the fierce throbbings of his heart, which sent the hot blood so swiftly through his veins, and made him from the first delirious. They had found him in the quiet court just after the sun setting, and his uncovered head was already wet with the falling dew, and the profuse perspiration induced by his long, heavy sleep. He was well known at the hotel, and measures were immediately taken for apprising his family of the sudden illness, and for removing him to Spring Bank as soon as possible.
Breakfast was not yet over at Spring Bank, and Aunt Eunice was wondering what could have become of Hugh, when from her position near the window she discovered a horseman riding across the lawn at a rate which betokened some important errand. Alice spied him too, and the same thought flashed over both herself and Aunt Eunice. “Something had befallen Hugh.”
Alice was the first upon the piazza, where she stood waiting till the rider came up,
“Are you Miss Worthington?” he asked, doffing his soil hat, and feeling a thrill of wonder at sight of her marvellous beauty.
“Miss Worthington is not at home,” she said, going down the steps and advancing closer to him, “but I can take your message. Is any thing the matter with Mr. Worthington?”
Aunt Eunice had now joined her, and listened breathlessly while the young man told of Hugh’s illness, which threatened to be the prevailing fever.