CHAPTER XXI.
GRACE TOPPLETON’S STORY.
My mother had the reputation of being a skilful person in sickness, or in any emergency. She devoted herself earnestly to the restoration of Grace. I could not help looking at her, alarmed as I was, while she lay pale and beautiful on the sofa. Captain Portman manifested a deep interest in the sufferer, though he knew that she belonged to the family of my persecutor, for the male members of which he had strongly expressed his contempt and disgust.
I tried again to devise some explanation of the singular visit of Grace at our house, and of the violent emotion which agitated her. Although I knew that her father was indulgent to her, I was afraid that everything was not pleasant at home. I had seen her brother strike her a severe blow, and had heard him talk to her in the most violent manner. If he would behave thus brutally to her in the presence of others, what would he not do in the privacy of his own home? Grace was conscientious, and with the highest views of truth and duty.
It was not difficult to believe, therefore, that some trouble had occurred in the family of the great man of Middleport, and that poor Grace had fled from her home in fear of personal violence. I began to flatter myself, in view of the fact that she had come to me for protection, and to fancy myself already a knight-errant. I had all along rejoiced in the belief that she regarded me with favor and kindness; but this last act of confidence crowned all my hopes. While I was thinking what I should do for her, how I should shield her, she opened her eyes.
My mother continued her benevolent ministrations until Grace was wholly restored. Probably she was in the habit of fainting; at any rate, she came out of the swoon with a facility which astonished me, and led me to the conclusion that fainting was not the most serious thing in the world, as I had supposed when I saw her silent and motionless on the sofa. She seemed to gather up her faculties almost as suddenly as she had been deprived of their use.
“Mr. Wolf, I came to see you,” said she, after she was able to speak. “I am sorry I fainted; but I have not felt well to-day.”
“Rest yourself, Miss Toppleton,” interposed my mother. “Don’t try to talk much yet.”
“I feel much better now, and shall do very well. I am much obliged to you Mrs. Penniman, for your kindness.”
“Oh, not a bit!” exclaimed my mother.
“But I must do the errand which brought me here, and go home,” said Grace, rising from the sofa.