"Not even when I order it?" Adelina said, with a bewitching air. Then, suddenly discovering her advantage, added, "If you really care for me you would do as I wish."
But for the timely arrival of a servant on the scene, bearing a message for Miss Fiske, there is no determining when the above conversation would have ended. One of the disputants was longing to put an end to it as speedily as possible, or at least, as quickly as was consistent with even a show of politeness; the other was putting forth every effort to prolong it without impunity. To risk all would be to lose all. He was not certain that there was anything to lose, that anything had ever been gained. For all the benefit accruing to either from the conversation it might as well have never taken place. As they leisurely strolled towards the house, both remained silent, neither desiring to break the silence, whether from feelings of constraint or from varied emotions, it would be difficult to learn. While Adelina's thoughts were, perhaps, less sad than those of her admirer, they were at least, far from enviable, commingled as they were with this recent event, and the one of former years. Doubtless she was thinking partly of what Mr. Burnett was thinking of her, and what she would say to that other whose arrival she had just witnessed. Tom Burnett had evidently concluded that "the better part of valor is discretion," for there was no pursuance of the talk, even when he found they were nearing the doorway. Only a quiet "good-by" from him. That was all he said to the girl who knew she had his happiness in her keeping, but whom he never once blamed, knowing with her conscience was all, and that she would follow its dictates, meriting thus always the love he had chosen to bestow upon her. Chosen? No; surely, that word is misapplied, for who ever chooses to love? Does love not rather come unawares to the non-suspecting? and does not the word rightly interpreted tell of an utter forgetfulness of self, implying only disinterested feelings; precluding entirely the idea of selection, which alone would mean something premeditated?
CHAPTER IV.
THE MEETING.
Adelina found Mary awaiting her, and, though, secretly delighting in the interruption, learned that there was really no reason for her being summoned, except Mary's wish to discuss recent events, and the desire to hasten a meeting between the two young people. The young girl read the question Mary longed to ask, and answered it accordingly, "I have seen him."
"He is much better than we ever dared to expect. He seems never to have been troubled by the strange malady we know has existed, save for one illusion. Twice he has spoken of his indebtedness to us for the care of his brother. It is clearly a case of mistaken identity. Ralph thinks the man, for whom we have cared, was his brother. As I said, his loss of such consciousness, is all that remains of his former trouble. Perhaps he did have a brother," Mary ended thoughtfully.
"Yes," replied Adelina, "he has mentioned a brother, though I have often wondered why he never told me more concerning him."
"The gentleman who accompanied Ralph is his physician, Dr. Ellis. He said that Ralph was so anxious to come, and that he was so imprudent he needed some one to watch him."
"Did Dr. Ellis use the word 'watch' before Ralph?" asked Adelina indignantl y.