The particulars of that interview between the mother and her daughter we
cannot describe, as no one witnessed it save God; but Adah's face was
radiant with happiness, and her soft, brown eyes beaming with joy when
it was ended, and she went next to where Hugh was waiting for her.
"Oh, Hugh, my noble brother!" was all she could say, as she wound her
arms around his neck and pressed her fair cheek against his own,
forgetting, in those moments of perfect bliss, all the sorrow, all the
anguish of the past.
Nor was it until Hugh said to her: "The doctor was in that battle. Did
he escaped unharmed?" that a shadow dimmed the sunshine flooding her
pathway that autumn morning.
At the mention of him the muscles about her mouth grew rigid, and a look
of pain flitted across her face, showing that there was yet much of
bitterness mingled in her cup of joy. Composing herself as soon as
possible she told Hugh that she was a widow, but uttered no word of
complaint against the dead, and Hugh, knowing that she could not sorrow
as other women have sorrowed over the loved ones slain in battle, drew
her nearer to him, and after speaking a few words of poor 'Lina, told
her of the golden fortune which had so unexpectedly come to him, and
added: "And you shall share it with me. Your home shall be with me and
Golden Hair--Alice--who has promised to be my wife. We will live very
happily together yet, my sister."
Then he asked what Major Stanley's plan was concerning the body of her
husband, and upon learning that it was to bury the doctor at home, he
announced his determination to accompany them, as he knew he should be
able to do so.
Hugh had no suspicion of the truth, but Alice guessed it readily, and
could scarcely forbear throwing her arms around Adah's neck and
whispering to her how glad she was. She had said to her softly: "I am to
be your sister, Adah--are you willing to receive me?" and Adah had only
answered by a warm pressure of the hand she held in hers and by the
tears which shone in her brown eyes.
It was a great trial to Adah to face the crowd they found assembled at
the depot, but Irving, Hugh, and Alice all helped to screen her from
observation, and almost before she was aware of it she found herself
safe in the carriage which effectually hid her from view. Slowly the
procession moved through the village, the foot passengers keeping time
to the muffled drum, whose solemn beats had never till that morning been
heard in the quiet streets. The wide gate which led into the grounds of
Terrace Hill was opened wide, and the black hearse passed in, followed
by the other carriages, which wound around the hill and up to the huge
building where badges of mourning were hung out--mourning for the only
son, the youngest born, the once pride and pet of the stately woman who
watched the coming of that group with tear-dimmed eyes, holding upon her
lap the little boy whose father they were bringing in, dead, coffined
for the grave. Not for the world would that high-bred woman have been
guilty of an impropriety, and so she sat in her own room, while Charlie
Millbrook met the bearers in the hall and told them where to deposit
their burden.