"And your guardian," interrupted Alice, "is it not strange that he
should have acted so cruel a part?"
"Yes, that's the strangest part of all, and he was so kind to me. I
cannot understand it, or where he is, though I've sometimes imagined he
must be dead; or in prison," and Adah thought of what Sam had said
concerning Sullivan, the negro-stealer.
"What do you mean; why should he be in prison?" Alice asked, and Adah
replied by telling her what Sam had said, and the reason she had for
thinking Sullivan and her guardian, Monroe, one and the same.
"I too am marked," and with a quick, nervous motion, she touched the
spot where the blue lines were faintly visible. "I know not how I came
by it, but it annoys me terribly. Mr. Monroe knew how I felt about it,
and the day before that marriage he said to me: 'It will disappear with
your children. They will not be marked,' and Willie isn't."
Just then Willie's voice was heard in the hall, and Alice admitted him
into the room. She kissed his rosy cheek, and said to Adah: "Do you know
I think he looks like Hugh."
"Yes," and Adah spoke sadly. "I know he does, and I am sorry for Hugh's
sake, as it must annoy him. Neither can I account for it, for I am
certainly nothing to Hugh. But there's another look in Willie's face,
his father's. Oh, Miss Johnson, George was handsome."
"Can you describe him, or will it be too painful?" Alice asked, and Adah
told how George Hastings looked, while Alice's handy worked nervously
together, for Adah was describing Dr. Richards.
"And you've never seen him since, nor guessed where his proud mother
lived?"
"Never, and when only the wrong is remembered, I think I never care to
see or hear from him again. But the noble, self-denying Hugh! I would
almost die for him; I ask God every day to bring him some good fortune
at last. He will, I know He will, and Hugh shall yet--"
She stopped short, struck with an idea which had never before entered
her mind. Hugh and Alice! Oh, if that could be.
"Why do you look at me?" Alice asked, as Adah sat drinking in the
dazzling beauty which she wished might one day shine for Hugh.
"I am thinking how beautiful you are, and wondering if you ever loved
any one; did you?"
"Not like you," Alice answered frankly. "When a little girl of thirteen
I owed my life to a youth with many characteristics like Hugh
Worthington. I liked him, and wanted so much to find him, but could not.
Then I grew to womanhood, and another crossed my path, well skilled in
finding every avenue to a maiden's heart. I did not love him. I am glad
that I did not, for he was unworthy of my love; but I fancied him a
while, and my heart did ache a little when mother on her deathbed talked
to me against him. It was my money he wanted most, and when he thought I
had none, he left me, saying as I heard, that I 'was a nice-ish kind of
girl, rather good-looking, but too blue for him.'"