xt7dbr8md900 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7dbr8md900/data/mets.xml Holmes, Mary Jane, 1825-1907. 19  books b92-205-30908797 English Grosset & Dunlap, : New York : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Bad Hugh  / by Mary J. Holmes. text Bad Hugh  / by Mary J. Holmes. 19 2002 true xt7dbr8md900 section xt7dbr8md900 



Author of "Lena Rivers", "Tempest and Sunshine",
"Meadow Brook", The English Orphans", etc., etc.

G R O S S E T  D U N L A P

 This page in the original text is blank.


                                            Bad HugL


CHAPTER                                         PAGE
     I. Spring Bank .....................................       5
     II. What Rover Found.
     III. Hugh's Soliloquy..26
     IV. Terrace Hill .....................................      29
     V. Anna and John..37
     VI. Alice Johnson ....................................      42
   VII. Riverside Cottage..50
   VIII. Mr. Liston and the Doctor   .     .      57
   IX. Matters in Kentucky .      .60
     X. Lina's Purchase and Hugh's....            71
     XI. Sam and Adah..77
   XII. What Followed........                    81
   XIII. How Hugh Paid His Debts      .    .      84
   XIV. Mrs. Johnson's Letter..88
   XV. Saratoga ........................................        96
   XVI. The Columbian ................................... ioI
   XVII. Hugh .......................o 08
 XVIII. Meeting of Alice and Hugh..iI
   XIX. Alice and Muggins..ii6
   XX. Poor Hugh         ......................................  ii8
   XXI. Alice and Adah.     .................................126
   XXII. Waking to Consciousness     .     .      133
 XXIII. Lina's Letter..138
 XXIV. Foreshadowings ...........         ......................  I45
 XXV. Talking with Hugh    .      .................149
 XXVI. The Day of the Sale.53
 XXVII. The Sale .........................................i 6i
XXVIII. The Ride..165
XXIX. Hugh and Alice            .      .       I69
  XXX. Adah's Journey.     ................................. 177
  XXXI. The Convict ..................................... 184
XXXII. Adah at Terrace Hill       .      .      189
XXXIII. Anna and Adah1..96
XXXIV. Rose Markham..204


4                     CONTENTS

CHAPTER                                           PAGE
  XXXV. The Result ....................................... 212
  XXXVI. Excitement ......................................        223
XXXVII. Matters at Spring Bank.227
XXXVIII. The Day of the Wedding...                   232
XXXIX. The Convict's Story.238
     XL. Poor 'Lina ....................................... 248
     XLI. Tidings .255
   XLII. Irving Stanley .................................... 259
   XLIII. Letters from Hugh and Irving Stanley ............ 268
   XLIV. The Deserter ..................................... 272
   XLV. The Second Battle of Bull Run ................... 28
   XLVI. How Sam Came There.29i
   XLVII. Finding Hugh .................................... 300
 XLVIII. Going Home ..................................... 304
   XLIX. Conclusion .314


               BAD HUGH

                       CHAPTER I

                       SPRING BANK

 A LARGE, old-fashioned, weird-looking wooden building, with
strangely shaped bay windows and stranger gables projecting
here and there from the slanting roof, where the green moss
clung in patches to the moldy shingles, or formed a groundwork
for the nests the swallows built year after year beneath the
decaying eaves. Long, winding piazzas, turning sharp, sudden
angles, and low, square porches, where the summer sunshine
held many a fantastic dance, and where the winter storm
piled up its drifts of snow, whistling merrily as it worked, and
shaking the loosened casement as it went whirling by. Huge
trees of oak and maple, whose topmost limbs had borne and cast
the leaf for nearly a century of years, tall evergreens, among
whose boughs the autumn wind ploughed mournfully, making
sad music for those who cared to listen, and adding to the lone-
liness which, during many years, had invested the old place. A
wide spreading grassy lawn, with the carriage road winding
through it, over the running brook, and onward 'neath graceful
forest trees, until it reached the main highway, a distance of
nearly half a mile. A spacious garden in the rear, with bordered
walks and fanciful mounds, with climbing roses and creeping
vines showing that somewhere there was a taste, a ruling band,
which, while neglecting the somber building and suffering it to
decay, lavished due care upon the grounds, and not on these
alone, but also on the well-kept barns, and the whitewashed
dwellings in front, where numerous, happy, well-fed negroes
lived and lounged, for ours is a Kentucky scene, and Spring
Bank a Kentucky home.
  As we have described it so it was on a drear December night,
when a fearful storm, for that latitude, was raging, and the
snow lay heaped against the fences, or mweeping.down from the


bending tree, drifted against the doors, and beat against the
windows, whence a cheerful light was gleaming, telling of life
and possible happiness within. There were no flowing curtains
before the windows, no drapery sweeping to the floor, nothing
save blinds without and simple shades within, neither of which
were doing service now, for the master of the house would have
it so in spite of his sister's remonstrances.
  Some one might lose their way on that terrible night, he said,
and the blaze of the fire on the hearth, which could be seen from
afar, would be to them a beacon light to guide them on their
way. Nobody would look in upon them, as Adaline, or 'Lina as
she chose to be called, and as all did call her except himself,
seemed to think there might, and even if they did, why need
she care To be sure she was not quite as fixey as she was on
pleasant days when there was a possibility of visitors, and her
cheeks were not quite so red, but she was looking well enough,
and she'd undone all those little tags or braids which disfigured
her so shockingly in the morning, but which, when brushed and
carefully arranged, did give her hair that waving appearance
she so much desired. As for himself, he never meant to do any-
thing of which he was ashamed, so he did not care how many
were watching him through the window, and stamping his
heavy boots upon the rug, for he had just come in from the
storm Hugh Worthington piled fresh fuel upon the fire, and,
shaking back the mass of short brown curls which had fallen
upon lts forehead, strode across the room and arranged the
shades to his own liking, paying no heed when his more fas-
tidious sister, with a frown upon her dark, handsome face, mut-
tered something about the " Stanley taste."
  " There, Kelpie, lie there," he continued, returning to the
hearth, and, addressing a small, white, shaggy dog, which, with
a human look in its round, pink eyes, obeyed the voice it knew
and loved, and crouched down in the corner at a safe distance
from the young lady, whom it seemed instinctively to know as
an enemy.
  " Do, pray, Hugh, let the dirty things stay where they are,"
Uina exclaimed, as she saw her brother walk toward the dining-
room, and guessed his errand. " Nobody wants a pack of dogs
under their feet. I wonder you don't bring in your pet horse,
saddle and alL."
  "I did want to when I beard how piteously be cried after
m as J leIt tille stable to-night," said Hugh, at the same time






opening a door leading out upon a back piazza, and, uttering a
peculiar whistle, which brought around him at once the pack of
dogs which so annoyed his sister.
  " I'd be a savage altogether if I were youI " was the sister's
angry remark, to which Hugh paid no heed.
  It was his house, his fire, and if he chose to have his dogs
there, he should, for all of Ad, but when the pale, gentle-looking
woman, knitting so quietly in her accustomed chair, looked up
and said imploringly:
  " Please turn them into the kitchen, they'll surely be comfort-
able there," he yielded at once, for that pale, gentle woman, was
his mother, and, to her wishes, Hugh was generally obedient.
  The room was cleared of all its canine occupants, save Kelpie,
who Hugh insisted should remain, the mother resumed her knit-
ting, and Adaline her book, while Hugh sat down before the
blazing fire, and, with his hands crossed above his head, went
on into a reverie, the nature of which his mother, who was
watching him, could not guess; and when at last she asked of
what he was thinking so intently, he made her no reply. He
could hardly have told himself, so varied were the thoughts
crowding upon his brain that wintry night. Now they were of
the eccentric old man, who had been to him a father, and from
whom he had received Spring Bank, together with the many
peculiar ideas which made him the strange, odd creature he was,
a puzzle and a mystery to his own sex, and a kind of terror to
the female portion of the neighborhood, who looked upon him
as a woman-hater, and avoided or coveted his not altogether dis-
agreeable society, just as their fancy dictated. For years the
old man and the boy had lived together alone in that great,
lonely house, enjoying vastly the freedom from all restraint, the
liberty of turning the parlors intokennels if they chose, and
converting the upper rooms into a hay-loft, if they would. No
white woman was ever seen upon the premises, unless she came
as a beggar, when some new gown, or surplice, or organ, or
chandelier, was needed for the pretty little church, lifting its
modest spire so unobtrusively among the forest trees, not very
far from Spring Bank. John Stanley didn't believe in churches;
nor gowns, nor organs, nor women, but he was proverbially
liberal, and so the fair ones of Glen's Creek neighborhood ven-
tured into his den, finding it much pleasanter to do so after
the handsome, dark-haired boy came to live with him; for
about that frank, outspoken boy there was then something very


attractive to the little girls, while their mothers pitied him,
wondering why he had been permitted to come there, and watch-
ing for the change in him, which was sure to ensue.
  Not all at once did Hugh conform to the customs of his
uncle's household, and at first there often came over him a long-
ing for something different, a yearning for the refinements of
his early home among the Northern hills, and a wish to infuse
into Chloe, the colored housekeeper, some of his mother's neat-
ness. But a few attempts at reform had taught him how futile
was the effort, Aunt Chloe always meeting him with the argu-
  "'Taint no use, Mr. Hugh. A nigger's a nigger; and I spec'
ef you're to talk to me till you was hoarse 'bout your Yankee
ways of scrubbin', and sweepin', and moppin' with a broom, I
shouldn't be an atomer white-folksey than I is now. Besides
Mas'r John wouldn't bar no finery; he's only happy when the
truck is mighty nigh a foot thick, and his things is lyin' round
loose and handy."
  To a certain extent this was true, for John Stanley would
have felt sadly out of place in any spot where, as Chloe said,
" his things were not lying round loose and handy," and as habit
is everything, so Hugh soon grew accustomed to his surround-
ings, and became as careless of his external appearance as his
uncle could desire. Only once had there come to him an awak-
ening-a faint conception of the happiness there might arise
from constant association with the pure and refined, such as his
uncle had labored to make him believe did not exist. He was
thinking of that incident now, and as he thought the veins upon
his broad, white forehead stood out round and full, while the
hands clasped above the head worked nervously together, and
it was not strange that he did not heed his mother when she
spoke, for Hugh was far away from Spring Bank, and the
wild storm beating against its walls was to him like the sound
of the waves dashing against the vessel's side, just as they did
years ago on that night he remembered so well, shuddering as
he heard again the murderous hiss of the devouring flames,
covering the fatal boat with one sheet of fire, and driving into
the water as a safer friend the shrieking, frightened wretches
who but an hour before had been so full of life and hope, dancing
gayly above the red-tongued demon stealthily creeping upward
from the hold below, where it had taken life. What a fearful
scene that was, and the veins grew larger on Hugh's brow while




his broad chest heaved with something like a stifled sob as he
recalled the little childish form to which he had clung so madly
until the cruel timber struck from him all consciousness, and
he let that form go down-down 'neath the treacherous waters
of Lake Erie never to come up again alive, for so his uncle told
wvhen, weeks after the occurrence, he awoke from the delirious
fever which ensued and listened to the sickening detail.
  " Lost, my boy, lost with many others," was what his uncle
had said.
  Ile heard the words as plainly now as when they first were
spoken, remembering how his uncle's voice had faltered, and
how the thought had flashed upon his mind that John Stanley's
heart was not as hard toward womenkind as people had sup-
posed. "Lost"-there was a world of meaning in that word
to Hugh more than any one had ever guessed, and, though it
was but a child he lost, yet in the quiet night, when all else
around Spring Bank was locked in sleep, he often lay thinking
of that child and of what he might perhaps have been had she
been spared to him. He was thinking of her now, and as he
thought visions of a sweet, pale face, shadowed with curls of
golden hair, came up before his mind, and he saw again the look
of bewildered surprise and pain which shone in the soft, blue
eyes and illumined every feature when in an unguarded mo-
ment he gave vent to the half infidel principles he had learned
from his uncle. Her creed was different from his, and she ex-
plained it to him so earnestly, so tearfully, that he had said to
her at last he did but jest to hear what she would say, and,
though she seemed satisfied, he felt there was a shadow between
them-a shadow which was not swept away, even after he prom-
ised to read the little Bible she gave him and see for himself
whether he or she were right. He 4iad that Bible now hidden
away where no curious eye could find it, and carefully folded be-
tween its leaves was a curl of golden hair. It was faded now, and
its luster was almost gone, but as often as he looked upon it, it
brought to mind the bright head it once adorned, and the fearful
hour when he became its owner. That tress and the Bible which
inclosed it bad made Hugh Worthington a better man. He
did not often read the Bible, it is true, and his acquaintances
were frequently startled with opinions which had so pained the
little girl on board the St. Helena, but this was merely on the
surface, for far below the rough exterior there was a world of
goodness, a mine of gems, kept bright by memories of the angel




child which flitted for so brief a span across his pathway and
then was lost forever. le had tried so hard to save her-had
clasped her so fondly to his bosom when with extended arms
she came to him for aid. He could save her, he said-he could
swim to the shore with perfect ease and so without a moment's
hesitation she had leaped with him into the surging waves, and
that was about the last he could remember, save that he clutched
frantically at the long, golden hair streaming above the water,
retaining in his firm grasp the lock which no one at Spring
Bank had ever seen, for this one romance of Hugh's seemingly
unromantic life was a secret with himself. No one save his
uncle had witnessed his emotions when told that she was dead;
no one else had seen his bitter tears or heard the vehement ex-
clamation: "You've tried to teach me there was no hereafter,
no heaven for such as she, but I know better now, and I am glad
there is, for she is safe forever."
  These were not mere idle words, and the belief then ex-
pressed became with Hugh Worthington a firm, fixed principle,
which his skeptical uncle tried in vain to eradicate. " There
was a heaven, and she was there," comprised nearly the whole
of Hugh's religious creed, if we except a vague, misty hope, that
he, too, would some day find her, how or by what means he never
seriously inquired; only this he knew, it would be through her
influence, which even now followed him everywhere, producing
its good effects. It had checked him many and many a time
when his fierce temper was in the ascendant, forcing back the
harsh words he would otherwise have spoken, and making him as
gentle as a child; and when the temptations to which young
men of his age are exposed were spread out alluringly before
him, a single thought of her was sufficient to lead him from the
forbidden ground.
  Only once had he fallen, and that two years before, when, as
if some demon had possessed him, he shook off all remembrances
of the past, and yielding to the baleful fascinations of one who
seemed to sway him at will, plunged into a tide of dissipation,
and lent himself at last to an act which had since embittered
every waking hour. As if all the events of his life were crowding
upon his memory this night, he thought of two years ago, and
the scene which transpired in the suburbs of New York, whither
immediately after his uncle's death he had gone upon a matter
of important business. In the gleaming fire before him there
was now another face than hers, an older, a different, though




not less beautiful face, and Hugh shuddered as he thought how
it must have changed ere this-thought of the anguish which
stole into the dark, brown eyes when first the young girl learned
how cruelly she had been betrayed. Why hadn't he saved her
What had she done to him that he should treat her so, and
where was she now Possibly she was dead. He almost hoped
sho was, for if she were, the two were then together, his golden-
haired and brown, for thus he designated the two.
  Larger and fuller grew the veins upon his forehead, as memory
kept thus faithfully at work, and so absorbed was Hugh in his
reverie that until twice repeated he did not hear his mother's
anxious inquiry:
  " What is that noise It sounds like some one in distress."
  Hugh started at last, and, after listening for a moment he,
too, caught the sound which had so alarmed his mother, and
made 'Lina stop her reading. A moaning cry, as if for help,
mingled with an infant's wail, now here, now there it seemed
to be, just as the fierce north wind shifted its course and drove
first at the uncurtained window of the sitting-room, and then
at the ponderous doors of the gloomy hall.
  "It is some one in the storm, though I can't imagine why
any one should be abroad to-night," Hugh said, going to the
window and peering out into the darkness.
  "Lyd's child, most likely. Negro young ones are always
squalling, and I heard her tell Aunt Chloe at supper time that
Tommie had the colic," 'Lina remarked opening again the book
she was reading, and with a slight shiver drawing nearer to the
  "Where are you going, my son" asked Mrs. Worthington,
as Hugh arose to leave the room.
  " Going to Lyd's cabin, for if Tommie is sick enough to make
his screams heard above the storm, she may need some help," was
Hugh's reply, and a moment after he was ploughing his way
through the drifts which lay between the house and the negro
  "How kind and thoughtful he is," the mother said, softly,
more to herself than to her daughter, who nevertheless quickly
  " Yes, kind to niggers, and horses, and dogs, I'll admit, but
let me, or any other white woman come before him as an object
of pity, and the tables are turned at once. I wonder what does
make him hate women so."




  " I don't believe he does," Mrs. Worthington replied. " His
uncle, you know, was very unfortunate in his marriage, and had
a way of judging all our sex by his wife. Living with him as
long as Hugh did, it's natural he should imbibe a few of his
  " A few," 'Lina repeated, " better say all, for John Stanley
and Hugh Worthington are as near alike as an old and young
man well could be. What an old codger he was though, and
how like a savage he lived here. I never shall forget how the
house looked the day we came, or how satisfied Hugh seemed
when he met us at the gate, and said, ' everything was in spendid
order,"' and closing her book, the young lady laughed merrily
as she recalled the time when she first crossed her brother's
threshold, stepping, as she affirmed, over half a dozen dogs, and
as many squirming kittens, catching her foot in some fishing
tackle, finding tobacco in the china closet, and segars in the
knife box, where they had been put to get them out of the way.
  " But Hugh really did his best for us," mildly interposed the
mother. " Don't you remember what the servants said about his
cleaning one floor himself because he knew they were tired! "
  " Did it more to save the lazy negroes' steps than from any
regard for our comfort," retorted 'Lina. "At all events he's
been mighty careful since how he gratified my wishes Some-
times I believe he perfectly hates me, and wishes I'd never been
born," and tears, which arose from anger, rather than any
wounded sisterly feeling, glittered in 'Lina's black eyes.
  " Hugh does not hate any one," said Mrs. Worthington,
"much less his sister, though you must admit that you try him
  "How, I'd like to know" 'Lina asked, and her mother re-
  " He thinks you proud, and vain, and artificial, and you know
he abhors deceit above all else Why, he'd cut off his right hand
sooner than tell a lie."
  "Pshaw!" was 'Lina's contemptuous response, then after a
moment she continued: " I wonder how we came to be so dif-
ferent. He must be like his father, and I like mine that is,
supposing I know who he is. Wouldn't it be funny if, just to
be hateful, he had sent you back the wrong child "
  " What made you think of that " Mrs. Worthington asked,
quickly, and 'Lina replied:
  " Oh, nothing, only the last time Hugh had one of his tan-





trams, and got so outrageously angry at me, because I made
Mr. Bostwick think my hair was naturally curly, he said he'd
give all he owned if it were so, but I reckon he'll never have his
wish. There's too much of old Sam about me to admit of a
doubt," and half spitefully, half playfully she touched the spot
in the center of her forehead known as her birthmark.
  When not excited it could scarcely be discerned at all, but
the moment she was aroused, the delicate network of veins
stood out round and full, forming what seemed to be a tiny
hand without the thumb. It showed a little now in the fire-
light, and Mrs. Worthington shuddered as she glanced at what
brought so vividly before her the remembrance of other and
wretched days. Adaline observed the shudder and hastened to
change the conversation from herself to Hugh, saying by way
of making some amends for her unkind remarks: " It really is
kind in him to give me a home when I have no particular claim
upon him, and I ought to respect him for that. I am glad, too,
that Mr. Stanley made it a condition in his will that if Hugh
ever married, he should forfeit the Spring Bank property, as
that provides against the possibility of an upstart wife coming
here some day and turning us, or at least me, into the street.
Say, mother, are you not glad that Hugh can never marry even
if he wishes to do so, which is not very probable."
  " I am not so sure of that," returned Mrs. Worthington,
smoothing, with her small, fat hands the bright worsted cloud
she was knitting, a feminine employment for -which she had a
weakness. "I am not so sure of that. Suppose Hugh should
fancy a person whose fortune was much larger than the one left
him by Uncle John, do you think he would let it pass just for
the sake of holding Spring Bank"
  " Perhaps not," 'Lina replied; ".but there's no possible danger
of any one's fancying Hugh."
  " And why not " quickly interrupted the mother. " He has
the kindest heart in the world, and is certainly fine-looking if
he would only dress decently."
  " I'm much obliged for your compliment, mother," Hugh said,
laughingly, as he stepped suddenly into the room and laid his
hand caressingly on his mother's head, thus showing that even
he was not insensible to flattery. " Have you heard that sound
again" he continued. "It wasn't Tommie, for I found him
asleep, and I've been all around the house, but could discover
nothing. The storm is beginning to abate, I think, and the



moon is trying to break through the clouds," and, going again to
the window, Hugh looked out into the yard, where the shrub-
bery and trees were just discernible in the grayish light of the
December moon. " That's a big drift by the lower gate," he
continued; "and queer shaped, too. Come see, mother. Isn't
that a shawl, or an apron, or something blowing in the wind "
  Mrs. Worthington arose, and, joining her son, looked in the
direction indicated, where a garment of some kind was certainly
fluttering in the gale.
  " It's something from the wash, I guess," she said. " I thought
all the time Hannah had better not hang out the clothes, as some
of them were sure to be lost."
  This explanation was quite satisfactory to Mrs. Worthington,
but that strange drift by the gate troubled Hugh, and the signal
above it seemed to him like a signal of distress. Why should the
snow drift there more than elsewhere He never knew it do so
before. He had half a mind to turn out the dogs, and see what
that would do.
  " Rover," he called, suddenly, as he advanced to the rear room,
where, among his older pets, was a huge Newfoundland, of
great sagacity. " Rover, Rover, I want you."
  In an instant the whole pack were upon him, jumping and
fawning, and licking the hands which had never dealt them
aught save kindness. It was only Rover, however, who was this
time wanted, and leading him to the door, Hugh pointed toward
the gate, and bade him see what was there. Snuffing slightly at
the storm, which was not over yet, Rover started down the
walk, while Hugh stood waiting in the door. At first Rover's
steps were slow and uncertain, but as he advanced they increased
in rapidity, until, with a sudden bound and cry, such as dogs
are wont to give when they have caught their destined prey,
he sprang upon the mysterious ridge, and commenced digging it
down with his paws.
  " Easy, Rover-be careful," Hugh called from the door, and
instantly the half-savage growl which the wind had brought to
his ear was changed into a piteous cry, as if the faithful crea-
ture were answering back that other help than his was needed
  Rover had found something in that pile of snow.





                       CHAPTER II

                     WHAT ROVER FOUND

  UNMINDFUL of the sleet beating upon his uncovered head Ftugh
hastened to the spot, where the noble brute was licking a face,
a baby face, which he had ferreted out from beneath the shawl
wrapped so carefully around it to shield it from the cold, for
instead of one there were two in that rift of snow-a mother
and her child! That stiffened form lying there so still, hug-
ging that sleeping child so closely to its bosom, was no delusion,
and his mother's voice calling to know what he was doing
brought Hugh back at last to a consciousness that he must act,
and that immediately.
  "Mother," he screamed, "send a servant here, quick! or let
Ad come herself. There's a woman dead, I fear. I can carry
her, but the child, Ad must come for her."
  " The what " gasped Mrs. Worthington, who, terrified beyond
measure at the mention of a dead woman, was doubly so at
hearing of a child. "A child," she repeated, "whose child"
  Hugh made no reply save an order that the lounge should be
brought near the fire and a pillow from his mother's bed. " From
mine, then," he added, as he saw the anxious look in his mother's
face, and guessed that she shrank from having her own snowy
pillow come in contact with the wet, limp figure he was de-
positing upon the lounge. It was a slight, girlish form, and the
long brown hair, loosened from its confinement, fell in rich
profusion over the pillow which Uina brought half reluctantly,
eying askance the insensible object before her, and daintily hold-
ing back her dress lest it should come in contact with the child
her mother had deposited upon the floor, where it lay crying
  The idea of a strange woman being thrust upon them in this
way was highly displeasing to Miss 'Lina, who haughtily drew
back from the little one when it stretched its arms out toward
her, while its pretty lip quivered and the tears dropped over its
rounded cheek.
  Meantime Hugh, with all a woman's tenderness, had done
for the now reviving stranger what he could, and as his mother
began to collect her scattered senses and evince some interest
in the matter, he withdrew to call the negroes, judging it pru-



dent to remain away a while, as his presence might be an intru-
sion. From the first he had felt sure that the individual thrown
upon his charity was not a low, vulgar person, as his sister
seemed to think. He had not yet seen her face distinctly, for it
lay in the shadow, but the long, flowing hair, the delicate hands,
the pure white neck, of which he had caught a glimpse as his
mother unfastened the stiffened dress, all these had made an
impression, and involuntarily repeating to himself, " Poor girl,
poor girl," he strode a second time across the drifts which lay
in his back yard, and was soon pounding at old Chloe's cabin
door, bidding her and Hannah dress at once and come imme-
diately to the house.
  An indignant growl at being thus aroused from her first sleep
was Chloe's only response, but Hugh knew that his orders were
being obeyed.
  The change of atmosphere and restoratives applied had done
their work, and Mrs. Worthington saw that the long eyelashes
began to tremble, while a faint color stole into the hitherto
colorless cheeks, and at last the large, brown eyes unclosed and
looked into hers with an expression so mournful, so beseeching,
that a thrill of yearning tenderness for the desolate young crea-
ture shot through her heart, and bending down she said, " Are
you better now "
  "Yes, thank you. Where is Willie" was the low response,
the tone thrilling Mrs. Worthington again with emotion.
  Even 'Lina started, it was so musical, and coming near she
answered: " If it's the baby you mean, he is here, playing with
  There was a look of gratitude in the brown eyes, which closed
again wearily. With her eyes thus closed, 'Lina had a fair op-
portunity to scan the beautiful face, with its delicately-chiseled
features, and the wealth of lustrous brown hair, sweeping back
from the open forehead, on which there was perceptible a faint
line, which 'Lina stooped down to examine.
  "Mother, mother," she whispered, drawing back, "look, is
not that a mark just like mine"
  Thus appealed to, Mrs. Worthington, too, bent down, but,
upon a closer scrutiny, the mark seemed only a small, blue vein.
  " She's pretty," she said. " I wonder why I feel so drawn
toward her"
  'Lina was about to reply, when again the brown eyes looked
up, and the stranger asked hesitatingly:





  "Where am I And is he here! Is this his house"
  "Whose house " Mrs. Worthington asked.
  The girl did not answer at once, and when she did her mind
seemed wandering.
  " I waited so long," she said, " but he never came again, only
the letter which broke my heart. Willie was a baby then, and I
almost hated him for a while, but he wasn't to blame. I wasn't
to blame. I'm glad God gave me Willie now, even if he did
take his father from me."
  Mrs. Worthington and her daughter exchanged glances, and
the latter abruptly asked:
  "Where is Willie's father"
  " I don't know," came in a wailing sob from the depths of the
  " Where did you come from " was the next question. The
young girl looked up in some alarm, and answered meekly:
  " From New York. I thought I'd never get here, but every-
body was so kind to me and Willie, and the driver said if
'twan't so late, and he so many passengers, he'd drive across
the fields. He pointed out the w