"I wish Hartwell would come home and attend to his business,"
muttered Dr. Asbury, some weeks later; and, as he spoke, he threw
his feet impatiently over the fender of the grate, looking
discontented enough.
"He will come, sir; he will come," answered Beulah, who sat near
him.
"How do you know that so well, child? Why do you suppose he will
come?" asked the doctor, knitting his bushy gray eyebrows.
"Perhaps, because I wish it so very much; and hope and faith are
nearly allied, you know; and perhaps more than this--because I have
prayed so long for his return."
She sat with her hands folded, looking quietly into the glowing
grate. The old man watched her a moment, as the firelight glared
over her grave, composed face, and tears came suddenly into his
eyes.
"When Harry Hartwell died (about eighteen months since) he left his
share of the estate to Guy. It is one of the finest plantations in
the State, and for the last three years the crops have been
remarkably good. The cotton has been sold regularly, and the bulk of
the money is still in the hands of the factor. Yesterday I happened
to pass the old house, and rode in to see how things looked;
positively, child, you would scarcely recognize the place. You know
the Farleys only occupied it a few months; since that time it has
been rented. Just now it is vacant, and such a deserted-looking
tenement I have not seen for many days. As far as I am concerned--"
Here a servant entered to inform the doctor that he was wanted
immediately to see one of his patients. He kicked off his slippers,
and got up, grumbling: "A plague on Guy's peregrinating proclivities! I am getting too old
to jump up every three seconds, to keep somebody's baby from jerking
itself into a spasm or suffocating with the croup. Hartwell ought to
be here to take all this practice off my hands."
He put on his overcoat and went out.
Beulah sat quite still for some minutes after his departure; then,
glancing at the clock, she started up suddenly.
"Where are you going, my dear?" said Mrs. Asbury, looking up from a
letter she was writing to Helen.
"To walk."
"But Mr. Leonard is coming here this afternoon to see you; he
requested me to tell you so."
"I don't want to see him."
"But, my dear, he has already called several times recently without
seeing you."