Bad Hugh

In the same room where we first saw him on the night of his return from

Europe, they left him, and went their way, while to Dixson and Pamelia

was accorded the honor of first welcoming Adah, whom they treated with

as much deference as if she had never been with them in any capacity

save that of mistress. She had changed since they last saw her--was

wonderfully improved, they said to each other as they left her at the

door of the room, where Mrs. Richards, with her two older daughters, was

waiting to receive her. But if the servants were struck with the air of

dignity and cultivation which Adah acquired during her tour in Europe,

how much more did this same air impress the haughty ladies waiting for

her appearance, and feeling a little uncertain as to how they should

receive her. Any doubts, however, which they had upon this subject were

dispelled the moment she entered the room, and they saw at a glance that

it was not the timid, shrinking Rose Markham with whom they had to deal,

but a woman as wholly self-possessed as themselves, and one with whose

bearing even their critical eyes would find no fault. She would not

suffer them to patronize her; they must treat her fully as an equal or

as nothing, and with a new-born feeling of pride in her late son's

widow, Mrs. Richards arose, and putting Willie from her lap, advanced to

meet her, cordially extending her hand, but uttering no word of welcome.

Adah took the hand, but her eyes never sought the face of her lady

mother. They were riveted with a hungry, wistful, longing look on

Willie, the little boy, who, clinging to his grandmother's skirts,

peered curiously at her, holding back at first, when, unmindful of

Asenath and Eudora, who had not yet been greeted, she tried to take him

in her arms.

"Oh, Willie, darling, don't you know me? I am poor mamma," and Adah's

voice was choked with sobs at this unlooked-for reception from her

child.

He had been sent for from Anna's home to meet his mother, because it was

proper; but no one at Terrace Hill had said to him that the mamma for

whom sweet Anna taught him daily to pray was coming. She was not in his

mind, and as eighteen months had obliterated all memories of the gentle,

girlish creature he once knew as mother, he could not immediately

identify that mother with the lady before him.

It was a sad disappointment to Adah, and without knowing what she was

doing, she sank down upon the sofa, and involuntarily laying her head in

Mrs. Richards' lap, cried bitterly, her tears bringing answering ones

from the eyes of all three of the ladies, for they half believed her

grief, in part, was for the lifeless form in the room below.