He had come, and up in the chamber where 'Lina died, was making the
toilet necessary after his hot dusty ride. Hugh, heartily ashamed of his
conduct for the last two days, had received him most cordially, meeting
him at the gate, and holding him by the hand, as they walked together to
the house, where Mrs. Worthington stood waiting for him, her lips
quivering, and tears dimming her eyes, as she said to him: "Yes, 'Lina
is dead."
Irving had heard as much at the depot, and heard, too, a strange story,
the truth of which he greatly doubted. Mrs. Worthington had been 'Lina's
mother, he believed, and his sympathy went out toward her at once,
making him forget that Alice was not there to meet him, as he half
expected she would be, although they were really comparative strangers.
It was not until a rather late hour that Alice joined him, sitting upon
the cool piazza, with Hugh as his companion. In summer Alice always wore
white, and now, as she came tripping down the long piazza, her muslin
dress floating about her like a snowy mist, her fair hair falling softly
about her face and on her neck, a few geranium leaves twined among the
glossy curls, and her lustrous eyes sparkling with excitement, both
Irving Stanley and Hugh held their breath and watched her as she came,
the one jealously and half angry that she was so beautiful, the other
admiringly and with a feeling of wonder at the beauty he had never seen
surpassed.
Alice was perfectly self-possessed, and greeted Mr. Stanley as she would
have greeted any friend--and she was glad to see him--spoke of Saratoga,
and then inquired for Mrs. Ellsworth about whom poor 'Lina had talked so
much.
Mrs. Ellsworth was well, Irving said, though very busy with her
preparations for going to Europe, adding "it was not so much pleasure
which was taking her there as by the hope that by some of the Paris
physicians her little deformed Jennie might be benefited. She had
secured a gem of a governess for her daughter, a young lady whom he had
not yet seen, but over whose beauty and accomplishments his staid sister
Carrie had really waxed eloquent."
Hugh cared nothing for that governess, and after a little, thinking he
was not wanted, stole quietly away, and being moodily inclined, rambled
off to 'Lina's grave, half wishing, as he stood there in the moonlight,
that he, too, was lying beside it.
"Were I sure of heaven, it would be a blessed thing to die," he thought,
"for this world has little in it to make me happy. Oh, Alice, Golden
Hair, I could almost wish we had never met, though, as I told her once,
I would rather have loved and lost her than never have loved her at
all."