Bad Hugh

Poor Hugh! He was mistaken with regard to Alice. She was not listening

to love words. She was telling Irving Stanley as much of 'Lina's sad

story as she thought necessary, and Irving, though really interested,

was, we must confess, too intent on watching the changing expressions of

her beautiful face to comprehend it clearly in all its complicated

parts.

He understood that 'Lina was not, and that a certain Adah Hastings was,

Mrs. Worthington's child; understood, too, that Adah was the wife of Dr.

Richards--that she had at some time, not quite clear to him, been at

Terrace Hill, but he somehow received the impression that she eventually

fled from Spring Bank after recognizing the doctor, and never once

thought of associating her with the young woman to whom, many months

previously, he had been so kind in the crowded car, and whose sad, brown

eyes had haunted him at intervals ever since.

Irving Stanley was not what could well be called fickle. He admired

ladies indiscriminately, respected them all, liked some very much, and

next to Alice was more attracted by and pleased with Adah's face than

any he had ever seen save that of "the Brownie," which seemed to him

much like it. He had thought of Adah often, but had as often associated

her with some tall, bewhiskered man, who loved her and her little boy as

she deserved to be loved. With this idea constantly before him, Adah had

gradually faded from his mind, leaving there only the image of one who

had made the strongest impression upon him of any whom he yet had met.

Alice Johnson, she was the star he followed now, hers the presence which

would make that projected tour through Europe all sunshine. Irving had

decided to be married; his mother said he ought; Augusta said he ought;

Mrs. Ellsworth said he ought; and so, as Hugh suspected, he had come to

Kentucky for the sole purpose of asking Alice to be his wife. At sight,

however, of Hugh, so much improved, so gentlemanly, and so fine looking,

his heart began to misgive him, and Hugh would have been surprised could

he have known that Irving Stanley was as jealous of him as he was of

Irving Stanley. Yet, such was the fact, and it was a hard matter to tell

which was the more miserable of the two, Irving or Hugh, when at last

the latter returned from 'Lina's grave, and seated himself upon the

moon-lighted piazza, a little apart from the lovers, as he believed

Irving and Alice to be.

By mutual consent the conversation turned upon the war, and Alice could

scarcely forbear laying her hand in Hugh's in token of approbation as

she watched the glow of enthusiasm kindling in his cheek, and the fire

of patriotism flashing from his dark, handsome eyes.