“No,” answered Mrs. Aldergrass, “she wouldn’t let me touch ’em, for she said that Durward, whom she talks so much about, liked ’em, and they mustn’t be cut off.”
Instantly the stranger, whose elegant appearance both Hetty and her mistress had been admiring, stopped, and turning to the latter, said, “Of whom are you speaking?”
“Of a young girl that came in the stage, sick, five or six days ago,” answered Mrs. Aldergrass.
“What is her name, and where does she live?” continued the stranger.
“She calls herself ’Lena, but the ’tother name I don’t know, and I guess she lives in Kentucky or Massachusetts.”
The young man waited to hear no more, but mechanically followed Hetty to his room, starting and turning pale as a wild, unnatural laugh fell on his ear.
“It is the young lady, sir,” said Hetty, observing his agitated manner. “She raves most all the time, and the doctor says she’ll die if she don’t stop.”
The gentleman nodded, and the next moment he was as he wished to be, alone. He had found her then—his lost ’Lena—sick, perhaps dying, and his heart gave one agonized throb as he thought, “What if she should die? Yet why should I wish her to live?” he asked, “when she is as surely lost to me as if she were indeed resting in her grave!”
And still, reason as he would, a something told him that all would yet be well, else, perhaps, he had never followed her. Believing she would stop at Mr. Everett’s, he had come on thus far, finding her where he least expected it, and spite of his fears, there was much of pleasure mingled with his pain as he thought how he would protect and care for her, ministering to her comfort, and softening, as far as possible, the disagreeable things which he saw must necessarily surround her. Money, he knew, would purchase almost everything, and if ever Durward Bellmont felt glad that he was rich, it was when he found ’Lena Rivers sick and alone at the not very comfortable inn of Laurel Hill.
As he was entering the dining-room, he saw Jerry—whose long, lank figure and original manner had afforded him much amusement during his ride—handing a dozen or more oranges to Mrs. Aldergrass, saying, as he did so, “They are for Miss ’Lena. I thought mebby they’d taste good, this hot weather, and I ransacked the hull town to find the nicest and best.”