"Spare him for his mother, he is her only boy," he heard her say, and on
the pillow, where his face was lying, the great tear drops fell, as he
thought how unworthy he was that she should pray for him.
He knew the pillow was wet, and shuddered when Alice attempted to fix
his head, turning it more to the light. She saw the tear stains, and
murmured to herself: "I did not think it was so warm." Then, sitting
down beside him, she fanned him gently, occasionally feeling for his
pulse to see if it were as rapid as ever. Once, as she touched his
wrist, his fingers closed involuntarily around her little hand and held
it a prisoner. He could not help it; the temptation was too strong to be
resisted, and then he reflected that a crazy man was not responsible for
his actions! As rational Hugh, he could never hope to touch that little
soft hand trembling in his like a frightened bird, so he would as crazy
Hugh improve his opportunity; and he did, holding fast the hand, and
when she attempted to draw it away, pressing it tighter and muttering: "No, no; mother, no."
"He thinks I am you," Alice whispered, as Mrs. Worthington came in, and
Hugh's heart gave one great throb of filial love when his mother stooped
over him, and 'mid a shower of tears kissed his forehead and lips,
murmuring: "Darling boy, he'll never know how much his poor mother loved him, or
how her heart will break with missing him if he dies."
It was with the utmost difficulty that Hugh could restrain himself then,
from assuring his mother that the crisis was passed and he was out of
danger.
"I've gone too far now, the hypocrite that I am," he thought. "Alice
Johnson never would forgive me. I can't retract now, not yet; I'm in a
pretty fix."
As the twilight gathered in the room he lay, listening while his mother
and Alice talked together, some times of him, sometimes of Colonel
Tiffton, whose embarrassments were now generally known, and again of
'Lina, who, he heard, had chosen to remain at Saratoga, where she was
enjoying herself so much with dear Mrs. Richards.
It was Alice who sat up that night, and Hugh, as he lay watching her
with half-closed eyes, as in her loose plain wrapper, with her luxuriant
curls, coiled in a large square knot at the back of her head, she moved
noiselessly around the room, felt a pang of remorse at his own
duplicity, one moment resolving to give up the part he was playing and
bid her leave him alone, and seek the rest she needed. But the
temptation to keep her there was strong. He would be very quiet, he said
to himself, and he kept his word, remaining so still and apparently
sleeping so soundly, that Alice lay down upon the lounge on the opposite
side of the room, where she had lain many a night, but never as now,
with Hugh's eyes upon her, watching her so eagerly as she fell away to
sleep, her soft, regular, childlike breathing awaking a thrill in Hugh's
heart, and sending the blood in little, tingling throbs through every
vein.