Her aunt she found in a state of agitation that was frightful. Even Fleda's assurances, with all the soothing arts she could bring to bear were some minutes before they could in any measure tranquillize her. Fleda's own nerves were in no condition to stand another shock when she left her and went to Hugh's door. But she could get no answer from him though she spoke repeatedly.
She did not return to her aunt's room. She went down stairs and brought up Barby and a light from thence.
Hugh was lying senseless and white; not whiter than his adopted sister as she stood by his side. Her eye went to her companion.
"Not a bit of it!" said Barby--"he's in nothing but a faint--just run down stairs and get the vinegar bottle, Fleda--the pepper vinegar.--Is there any water here?--"
Fleda obeyed; and watched, she could do little more, the efforts of Barby, who indeed needed no help, with the cold water, the vinegar, and rubbing of the limbs. They were for sometime unsuccessful; the fit was a severe one; and Fleda was exceedingly terrified before any signs of returning life came to reassure her.
"Now you go down stairs and keep quiet!" said Barby, when Hugh was fairly restored and had smiled a faint answer to Fleda's kiss and explanations,--"Go, Fleda! you ain't fit to stand. Go and sit down some place, and I'll be along directly and see how the fire burns. Don't you s'pose Mis' Rossitur could come in and sit in this easy-chair a spell without hurting herself?"
It occurred to Fleda immediately that it might do more good than harm to her aunt if her attention were diverted even by another cause of anxiety. She gently summoned her, telling her no more than was necessary to fit her for being Hugh's nurse; and in a very few minutes she and Barby were at liberty to attend to other claims upon them. But it sank into her heart, "Hugh will not get over this!"--and when she entered the sitting-room, what Mr. Carleton years before had said of the wood-flower was come true in its fullest extent--"a storm-wind had beaten it to the ground."
She was able literally to do no more than Barby had said, sit down and keep herself quiet. Miss Elster was in her briskest mood; flew in and out; made up the fire in the sitting-room and put on the kettle in the kitchen, which she had been just about doing when called to see Hugh. The much-needed supper of the travellers must be still waited for; but the fire was burning now, the room was cosily warm and bright, and Marion drew up her chair with a look of thoughtful contentment. Fleda felt as if some conjuror had been at work here for the last few hours--the room looked so like and felt so unlike itself.
"Are you going to be ill too, Fleda?" said Marion suddenly. "You are looking--very far from well!"
"I shall have a headache to-morrow," said Fleda quietly. "I generally know the day beforehand."