"If I could only ask Alice what it was worth," she thought--and why
couldn't she? Yes, she would ask Alice, and with the old hope strong at
her heart, she went to Alice, whom she found alone.
"Did you wish to tell me anything? Hugh is better, I hear," Alice said,
observing Mrs. Worthington's agitation, and then the whole came out.
"'Lina must have fifty dollars. The necessity was imperative, and they
had not fifty to send unless Hugh sold his uncle's watch, but she did
not know what it was worth--could Alice tell her?"
"Worth more than you will get," Alice said, and then, as delicately as
possible she offered the money from her own purse, advancing so many
reasons why they should take it, that poor Mrs. Worthington began to
feel that in accepting it, she would do Alice a favor.
"She was willing," she stammered, "but there was Hugh--what could they
do with him?"
"I'll manage that," Alice said, laughingly. "I'll engage that he eats
neither of us up. Suppose you write to 'Lina now, saying that Hugh is
better, and inclosing the money. I have some New York money still," and
she counted out, not fifty, but seventy-five dollars, thinking within
herself, "she may need it more than I do."
Easily swayed, Mrs. Worthington took the pen which Alice offered, but
quickly put it from her, saying, with a little rational indignation, as
she remembered 'Lina's heartlessness: "I won't write her a word. She don't deserve it. Inclose the amount, and
direct it, please."
Placing the money in an envelope, Alice directed it as she was bidden,
without one word of Hugh, and without the slightest congratulation
concerning the engagement; nothing but the money, which was to replace
Ellen Tiffton's bracelet.
Claib was deputed as messenger to take it to the office, together with a
hastily-written note to Mr. Liston, and then Alice sat down to consider
the best means of breaking it to Hugh. Would he prove as gentle as when
delirium was upon him; or would he be greatly changed? And what would he
think of her? Alice would not have confessed it, but this really was the
most important query of all.
Alice was not well pleased with her looks that morning. She was too
pale, too languid, and the black dress she wore only increased the
difficulty by adding to the marble hue of her complexion. Even her hair
did not curl as well as usual, though Mug, who had dried her tears and
come back to Alice's room, admired her so much, likening her to the
apple blossoms which grew in the lower orchard.
"Is you gwine to Mas'r Hugh?" she asked, as Alice passed out into the
hall. "I'se jest been dar. He's peart as a new dollar--knows everybody.
How long sense, you 'spec'?" and Mug looked very wise, as she thus
skirted around what she was forbidden to divulge on pain of Hugh's
displeasure.