University of Virginia Library

32. CHAPTER XXXII.
THE DAY OF THE WEDDING.

Dr. Richards had arrived at Spring Bank. He, too,
had been detained in Cincinnati, and did not reach his
destination until late on Wednesday evening. Hugh was
the first to meet him, for Alice had retired, and 'Lina had
fled from the room at the first sound of the voice she had
been so anxiously waiting for. For a moment Hugh scrutinized
the stranger's face earnestly, and then asked if they
had never met before.

“Not to my knowledge,” the doctor replied in perfect
good faith, for he had no suspicion that the man eyeing
him so closely was the one witness of his marriage with
Adah, the stranger whom he scarcely noticed, and whose
name he had forgotten.

Once fully in the light, where Hugh could discern the
features plainer, he began to be less sure of having met
his guest before, for that immense mustache and those
well-trimmed whiskers, had changed the doctor's physiognomy
materially.

'Lina now came stealing in, affecting such a pretty coyness
of manner, that Hugh felt like roaring with laughter
and ere long hurried out where he could indulge his merriment.

'Lina was glad to see the doctor. She had even cried
at his delay; and though no one knew it, had sat up nearly
the whole preceding night, waiting and listening by her
open window for any sound to herald his approach, and
once she had stolen out with her thin slippers into the
yard, standing on the damp ground a long time, and only
returning to the house when she felt a chill creeping over
her, and knew she was taking cold.

As the result of this long vigil, her head ached dreadfully

the next day, and even the doctor noticed her burning
cheeks and watery eyes, and feeling her rapid pulse,
asked if she were ill.

She was not, she said; she had only been troubled,
because he did not come, and then for once in her life she
did a womanly act. She laid her head in the doctor's lap
and cried, just as she had done the previous night. He
understood the cause of her tears at last, and touched with
a greater degree of tenderness for her than he had ever
before experienced, he smoothed her glossy black hair, and
asked,

“Would you be very sorry to lose me?”

Selfish and hard as she was, 'Lina loved the doctor, and
with a shudder as she thought of the deception imposed
on him, and a half regret that she had so deceived him,
she replied,

“I am not worthy of you, but I do love you very much,
and it would kill me to lose you now. Promise that
when you find, as you will, how bad I am, you will not
hate me!”

It was an attempt at confession, but the doctor did not
so construe it. Whatever her errors were, his, he knew,
were tenfold greater, and so he continued smoothing her
hair, while he tried to say the words of affection he knew
she was waiting to hear.

It was very dark that night, and the doctor received
only a vague idea of Spring Bank and its surroundings,
and that did not impress him as grandly as he had thought
it would. But then, he reflected that Southerners were
not as noted for fine houses as Northerners were, and so
felt secure as yet, wondering which of the negroes he had
seen belonged to 'Lina, and which to Hugh. He knew
Lulu was not to accompany his wife to Terrace Hill, for
'Lina had told him so, saying that in the present state of
excited feeling she did not think it best to take a negro
slave to New England. He knew, too, that nothing had

been said about money or lands coming to him with his
bride, but he took it all on trust, and looked rather
complacently around the prettily furnished chamber to
which, at a late hour, he was conducted by Hugh.

The bright sunlight of the next morning was very exhilarating,
and though the doctor was disappointed in
Spring Bank, he greeted his bride elect kindly, noticing,
while he did so, how her cheeks alternately paled, and
then grew red, while she seemed to be chilly and cold.
'Lina had passed a wretched night, tossing from side to
side, bathing her throbbing head and rubbing her aching
limbs. The severe cold taken in the wet yard was making
itself visible, and she came to the breakfast-table jaded
wretched and sick, a striking contrast to Alice Johnson,
who seemed to the doctor more beautiful than ever. She
was unusually gay this morning, for while talking to Dr.
Richards, whom she had met in the parlor, she had, among
other things concerning Snowdon, said to him, casually, as
it seemed,

“Anna has a waiting-maid at last. You saw her, of
course?”

Somehow the doctor fancied Alice wished him to say
yes, and as a falsehood was nothing for him, he replied at
once,

“Oh, yes, I saw her. Her little boy is splendid.”

Alice was satisfied. The shadow lifted from her spirits.
Dr. Richards was not George Hastings. He was not the
villain she had feared, and 'Lina might have him now.
Poor 'Lina! Alice felt almost as if she had done her a
wrong by suspecting the doctor, and was very kind to her
that day. Poor 'Lina! we say it again, for hard, and
wicked, and treacherous, and unfilial, as she had ever been,
she had need for pity on this her wedding-day. Retribution,
terrible and crushing, was at hand, hurrying on in
the carriage bringing Anna Richards to Spring Bank, and
on the fleet-footed steed bearing the convict swiftly up
the Frankfort 'pike.

Restless and impatient 'Lina wandered from room to
room, stopping longest in the one where lay the bridal
dress, at which she gazed wistfully, feeling almost as if it.
were her shroud. She could not tell what ailed her. She
only knew that she felt wretchedly, as if some direful calamity
were about to overtake her, and more than once
her eyes filled with tears as she wished her path to Dr.
Richards' name had been marked with no deception.
He was now in his room, and it was almost time for her
to dress. Lulu might begin to arrange her hair, and she
called her just as the mud-bespattered vehicle containing
Anna Richards drove up, Mr. Millbrook having purposely
stopped in Versailles, thinking it better that Anna
should go on alone.

It was Ellen Tiffton, who was to come early, 'Lina
said, and so the dressing continued, and she was all unsuspicious
of the scene enacting below, in the room
where Anna met her brother alone. She had not given
Hugh her name. She simply asked for Dr. Richards, and
conducting her into the parlor, hung with bridal decorations,
Hugh went for the doctor, saying, “a lady wished
to see him.”

“A lady! Who is it?” the doctor asked, visions of
his aggrieved mother, in her black silk velvet, rising before
his mind. “What could a lady and a stranger want
of him?”

Mechanically he took his way to the parlor, while
Hugh resumed his seat by the window, where for the
last hour he had watched for the coming of one who had
said, “I will be there.”

Half an hour later, had he looked into the parlor, he
would have seen a frightened, white-faced man, crouching
at Anna Richards' side and whispering to her as if
all life, all strength, all power to act for himself, were
gone.

“What must I do? Tell me what to do.”

She had given him no time for questioning, but handing

him Adah's letter, had bidden him read it through,
as that would explain her presence at Spring Bank.
One glance at the hand-writing, and the doctor turned
white as marble. “Could it be? Had Lily come back
to life?” he asked himself, and then eagerly, rapidly, he
read the first two pages, every word burning into his
heart and bewildering his brain. But when he came to
the line, “I am Lily, and Willie is your brother's child,”
sight and sense seemed failing him, and tottering to his
sister, sternly regarding him, he gasped, “Oh, Anna, read
for me. I can't see any more — it runs together, and I —
I'm going to faint!”

“No, you are not. You must not faint; you shall
not,” Anna exclaimed, shaking him energetically and applying
to his nostrils the bottle of strong hartshorn she
had procured in Versailles for just such an emergency as
this.

The odor half strangled him, but Anna's object was attained.
He did not faint, but sat like an idiotic thing,
listening while she read the letter through, and demanded
if it were true. Was it Adah Gordon whom he deserted,
and was it a mock marriage? She would have the
truth, and he had no desire to conceal it.

“Yes, true — all true — but I thought she was dead.
I did, Anna. Oh, Lily, where is she now? I'm going
to —”

“Sit down,” Anna said, imperatively; and with all the
air of an imbecile he crouched at her feet, asking what
he should do.

This was a puzzle to Anna, and she replied by asking
him another question. “Do you love 'Lina Worthington?”

“I — I — no, I guess I don't; but she's rich, and —”

With a motion of disgust Anna cut him short, saying,
“Don't make me despise you more than I do. Until
your lips confessed it, I had faith that Lily was mistaken,

that your marriage was honorable, at least, even if you
tired of it afterward. You are worse than I supposed,
and now you speak of money. What shall you do? Get
up, and not sit whining at my feet like a puppy. Find
Lily, of course, and if she will stoop to listen a second
time to your suit, make her your wife, working to support
her until your hands are blistered, if need be.”

Anna hardly knew herself in this phase of her character,
and her brother certainly did not.

“Don't be hard on me, Anna,” he said, “I'll do what
you say, only don't be hard. It's come so sudden, that
my head is like a whirlpool. Lily, Willie, Willie. The
child I saw, you mean — yes, the child — I — saw — did
it say he — was — my — boy?”

The words were thick and far apart. The head drooped
lower and lower, the color all left the lips, and in spite
of Anna's vigorous shakes, or still more vigorous harts
horn, overtaxed nature gave way, and the doctor fainted
at last. It was Anna's turn now to wonder what she
should do, and she was about summoning aid from some
quarter when the door opened suddenly, and Hugh ushered
in a stranger — the convict, who had kept his word,
and came to tell what he knew of this complicated mystery.
No one had seen him as he entered the house but
Hugh, who was expecting him, and who, in reply to his
inquiries for the doctor, told where he was, and that a
stranger was with him. There was a low, hurried conversation
between the two, a partial revelation of the business
which had brought Sullivan there, and at its close
Hugh's face was deadly white, for he knew now that he
had met Dr. Richards before, and that 'Lina could not be
his wife.

“The villain!” he muttered, involuntarily clenching his
fist as if to smite the dastard as he followed Sullivan into
the parlor, starting back when he saw the prostrate form
upon the floor, and heard the lady say, “My brother, sir,
has fainted.”

She was Anna, then; and Hugh guessed rightly why
she was there.

“Madame,” he began, but ere another word was uttered,
there fell upon his ear a shriek which seemed to cleave the
very air and made even the fainting man move in his unconsciousness.

It was Mrs. Worthington who, with hands outstretched,
as if to keep him off, stood upon the threshold, gazing in
mute terror at the horror of her life, whispering incoherently,
“What is it, Hugh? How came he here? Save
me, save me from him!”

“A look, half of sorrow, half of contempt, flitted across
the stranger's face as he answered for Hugh kindly, gently,
“Is the very sight of me so terrible to you, Eliza? Believe
me, you have nothing to fear. I am only here to
set matters right — to make amends for the past, so far as
possible. Here for our daughter's sake.”

He had drawn nearer to her as he said this last, but she
intuitively turned to Hugh, who started suddenly, growing
white and faint as a suspicion of the truth flashed upon
him.

“Mother?” he began, interrogatively, winding his arm
about her, for she was the weaker of the two.

She knew what he would ask, and with her eye still upon
the man who fascinated her gaze, she answered, sadly,
“Forgive me, Hugh, I thought he was dead. The paper
said so, with all the particulars. Forgive me. He was
— my husband; he is — 'Lina's father, not yours, Hugh,
oh, Heaven be praised, not yours!” and she clung closely
to her boy, as if glad one child, at least, was not tainted
with the Murdoch blood.

The convict smiled bitterly, and said to Hugh himself,

“Your mother is right. She was once my wife, but the
law set her free from the galling chain. I have had a
variety of names in my life; so many, indeed, that I hardly
know which is my real one.

He was perfectly cool, but his face showed the effort it
was to be so, while his black eyes rolled restlessly from
one object to another, and he was about to speak again
when Alice came tripping down the stairs, and pausing at
the parlor door, looked in.

“Anna Richards!” she exclaimed, but uttered no other
sound for the terror of something terrible, which kept her
silent.

It was no ordinary matter which had brought that group
together, and she stood looking from one to the other,
until the convict said,

“Young lady, you cannot be the bride, but will you
call her, tell her she is wanted.”

Alice never knew what she said to 'Lina. She was only
conscious of following her down the stairs and into that
dreadful room. Sullivan was watching for her, and the
muscles about his mouth twitched convulsively, while a
shadow of mingled pity and tenderness swept over his
features as his eye fell on the girlish figure behind her,
'Lina, with the orange blossoms in her hair — 'Lina almost
ready for the bridal!

For an instant the convict regarded her intently, and
there was something in his glance which brought Hugh
at once to 'Lina, where, with his arm upon her chair, he
stood as if he would protect her. Noble Hugh! 'Lina
never knew one-half how good and generous he was until
just as she was losing him.

Dr. Richards was restored by this time, and looked on
those around him in utter astonishment; on Mrs. Worthington
crouched in the farthest corner, her face as white
as ashes, and her eyes riveted upon the figure of the man
standing in the center of the room; on 'Lina, terrified
at what she saw; on Anna, more perplexed, more astonished
than himself, and on Hugh, towering up so commandingly
above the whole, and demanding of the convict the
explanation which he had come to make.

There was a moment's hesitancy, and his face flushed
and paled alternately ere the convict could summon courage
to begin.

“Take this seat, sir, you need it,” Hugh said, bringing
him a chair and then resuming his watch over 'Lina, who
involuntarily leaned her throbbing head upon his arm,
and with the others listened to that strange tale of sin.