Bad Hugh

"Didn't Adah say she went there once? Again I charge you, don't let her

go to Terrace Hill on any account.

"And one other thing. I shall buy my bridal trousseau under Mrs.

Ellsworth's supervision. She has exquisite taste, and Hugh must send

the money. As I told him before, he can sell Mug. Harney will buy her.

He likes pretty darkies."

* * * * *

"Oh, horror! can Ad be a woman, with womanly feelings?" Hugh exclaimed,

feeling as if he hated his sister.

But after a moment he was able to listen while his mother asked if it

would not be better to persuade Adah not to go to Terrace Hill.

"It may interfere with 'Lina's plans," she said, "and now it's gone so

far, it seems a pity to have it broken up. It's--it's very pleasant with

'Lina gone," and with a choking sob, Mrs. Worthington laid her face upon

the pillow, ashamed and sorry that the real sentiments of her heart were

thus laid bare.

It was terrible for a mother to feel that her home would be happier for

the absence of a child, and that child an only daughter, but she did

feel so, and it made her half willing that Dr. Richards should be

deceived. But Hugh shrank from the dishonorable proceeding.

Mrs. Worthington always yielded to Hugh, and she did so now, mentally

resolving, however, to say a few words to Adah, relative to her not

divulging anything which could possibly harm 'Lina, such as telling how

poor they were, or anything like that. This done, Mrs. Worthington felt

easier, and as Hugh looked tired and worried, she left him for a time,

having first called Muggins to gather up the fragments of 'Lina's letter

which Hugh had thrown upon the carpet.

"Yes, burn every trace of it," Hugh said, watching the child as she

picked up piece by piece, and threw them into the grate.

"I means to save dat ar. I'll play I has a letter for Miss Alice," Mug

thought, as she came upon a bit larger than the others, and unwittingly

she hid in her bosom that portion of the letter referring to herself and

Harney! This done, she too left the room, and Hugh was at last alone.

He had little hope now that he would ever win Alice, so jealously sure

was he that Irving was preferred before him, and he whispered sadly to

himself: "I can live on just the same, I suppose. Life will be no more dreary

than it was before I knew her. No, nor half so dreary, for 'it is better

to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all.' That is what Adah

said once when I asked what she would give never to have met that

villain."