And during all this while came there to Adah's heart no suspicion for
whom and whose she was thus laboring? No strange interest in the
bridegroom, the handsome doctor, so doted upon by mother and sisters?
None whatever. She scarcely remembered him, or if she did, it was as one
toward whom she was utterly indifferent. He would not notice her. He
might not notice Willie, though yes, she rather thought he would like
her boy; everybody did, and the young mother bent down to kiss her
child, and so hide the blush called up by a remembrance of Irving
Stanley's kindness on that sad journey to Terrace Hill.
Rapidly the few days went by, bringing at last the very morning when he
was expected. Brightly, warmly the April sun looked in upon Adah,
wondering at the load upon her spirits. She did not associate it with
the doctor, nor with anything in particular. She did not know for
certain that she should even see him. She might and she might not, but
if she did perchance stumble upon him, she would a little rather he
should see that she was not like ordinary waiting-maids. She would make
a good impression!
And so she wore the pretty dark French calico which Anna had given to
her, fastened the neat linen collar with a chaste little pin, buttoned
her snow-white cuffs, thrust a clean handkerchief into the dainty pocket
on the outside of her skirt, and then descended to the drawing-room to
see that the fires were burning briskly, for spite of the cheerful
sunshine pouring in, the morning was cold and frosty. They had delayed
their breakfast until the doctor should come, and in the dining-room the
table was laid with unusual care. Everything was in its place, and still
Adah fluttered around it like a restless bird, lingering by what she
knew was the doctor's chair, taking up his knife, examining his napkin
ring, and wondering what he would think of the cheap bone rings used at
Spring Bank.
In the midst of her cogitations, the door bell rang, and she heard the
tramp of horses' feet as Jim drove around to the stable. The doctor had
come and she must go, but where was Willie?
"Willie, Willie," she called, but Willie paid no heed, and as Eudora had
said, was directly under foot when she unlocked the door, his the first
form distinctly seen, his the first face which met the doctor's view,
and his fearless baby laugh the first sound, which welcomed the doctor
home!