"Oh, I'd rather go on alone," Adah exclaimed, as she guessed what he had
intended saying.
"It's quite as well, I reckon," was Mr. Stanley's reply, and taking
Willie in his arms, he conducted Adah to the nearest hotel.
"If you please, you will not engage a very expensive room for me. I
can't afford it," Adah said, timidly, as she followed her conductor into
the parlor of the Delavan.
She was poor, then. Irving would hardly have guessed it from her
appearance, but this frank avowal which many would not have made, only
increased his respect for her, while he wished so much that she might
have one of the handsome sitting-rooms, of whose locality he knew so
well.
It was a cozy, pleasant little chamber into which she was finally
ushered, too nice, Adah feared, half trembling for the bill when she
should ask for it, and never dreaming that just one-half the price had
been paid by Irving, whose kind heart prompted him to the generous act.
There were but a few moments now ere he must leave, and standing by her
side, with her little hand in his, he said: "The meeting with you has been to me a pleasant incident, and I shall
not soon forget it. I trust we may meet again. There is my card. I am
acquainted North, South, East and West. Perhaps I know your husband. You
have one?" he added quickly, as he saw the hot blood stain her face and
neck to a most unnatural color.
He had not the remotest suspicion that she had never been a wife; he
only thought from her agitation that she possibly was a widow, and
unconsciously to himself the idea was fraught with a vague feeling of
gladness, for, to most men, it is pleasanter knowing they have been
polite to a pretty girl, or even a pretty widow, than to a wife, whose
lord might object, and Irving was not an exception. Was she a widow, and
had he unwittingly touched the half-healed wound? He wished he knew, and
he stood waiting for her answer to his question, "You have a husband?"
At a glance Adah had read the name upon the card, knowing now who had
befriended her. It was Irving Stanley, Augusta's brother, second cousin
to Hugh, and 'Lina was with his sister in New York. He was going there,
he might speak of her, and if she told her name, her miserable story
would be known to more than it was already. It was a false pride which
kept Adah silent when she knew that Irving Stanley was waiting for her
to speak, wondering at her agitated manner. He was looking at her eyes,
her large brown eyes, which dared not meet his, and as he looked a
terrible suspicion crept over him. Involuntarily he felt for her third
finger. It was ringless, and he dropped it suddenly, but with a feeling
that he might be unjust, that all were not of his church and creed, he
took it again, and said his parting words. Then, turning to Willie, he
smoothed the silken curls, praised the beauty of the sleeping child, and
left the room.