“What does she mean? What letter? Who is Dr. Richards?” Hugh asked, his face a purplish red, and contrasting strikingly with the one of ashen hue still resting on his shoulder.
Mrs. Worthington explained as well as she could, and Hugh went on:
“Old Mrs. Richards would, of course,
question Adah, and as Adah has
some foolish scruples about the truth,
she would be very apt to let
the cat out of the bag.
“We left Saratoga a week ago—old lady Richards wanted to go to Terrace Hill a while and show me to Anna, who, it seems, is a kind of family oracle. After counting the little gold eagles in my purse, I said perhaps I’d go for a few days, though I dreaded it terribly, for the doctor had not yet bound himself fast, and I did not know what the result of those three old maid sisters, sitting on me, would be. Old lady was quite happy in prospect of going home, when one day a letter came from Anna. I happened to have a headache, and was lying on madam’s bed, when the dinner bell happened to ring. I just peeped into the letter, feeling like stealing sheep, but being amply rewarded by the insight I obtained into the family secrets.
“They are poorer than I supposed, but that does not matter, position is what I want, and that they can give me. Anna, it seems, has an income of her own, and, generous soul that she is, gives it out to her mother. She sent fifty dollars in the letter, and in referring to it, said, ’Much as I might enjoy it, dear mother, I cannot afford to come where you are, I can pay your bills for some time longer, if you really think the water a benefit, but my presence would just double the expense. Then, if brother does marry, I wish to surprise him with a handsome set of pearls for his bride, and I am economizing to do so.’” (Note by ’Lina)—“Isn’t she a clever old soul? Don’t she deserve a better sister-in-law than I shall make, and won’t I find the way to her purse often?”
Hugh groaned aloud, and the letter dropped from his hand.
“Mother,” he gasped, “it must not be. ’Lina shall not thrust herself upon them. This Anna shall not be so cruelly deceived. I don’t care a picayune for the doctor or the old lady. They are much like ’Lina, I reckon, but this Anna awakens my sympathy. I mean to warn her.”
Hugh read on, feeling as if he, too, were guilty, thus to know what sweet Anna Richards had intended only for her mother’s eye.