But Adah, though she tried to do so, could neither move nor speak, and
Anna failed to see the figure crouching in the darkness, poor, crushed,
wretched Adah, who could not dispute her when returning to her brother
she said, "There is no one there; Rose has gone to the post office. I
heard her as she went out. We are all alone. Was it anything particular
you wished to tell me?"
Again the familiar tones thrilled on Adah's ears as Dr. Richards
replied: "Nothing very particular. I only wished to say a few words,
'Lina. I want you to like her, to make up, if possible, for the love I
ought to give her."
"Ought to give her! Oh, brother, are you taking 'Lina without love?
Better never make the vow than break it after it is made."
Anna spoke earnestly, and the doctor, who always tried to retain her
good opinion, replied evasively: "I suppose I do love her as well as
half the world love their wives before marriage, but she is different
from any ladies I have known; so different from what poor Lily was.
Anna, let me talk with you again of Lily. I never told you all--but what
is that?" he continued, as he indistinctly heard the choking, gasping,
stifled sob which Adah gave at the sound of the dear pet name. Anna
answered: "It's only the rising wind. It sounds so always when it's in
the east. We surely are alone. What of Lily? Do you wish you were going
after her instead of 'Lina?"
Oh, why did the doctor hesitate a moment? Why did he suffer his dread of
losing Anna's respect to triumph over every other feeling? He had meant
to tell her all, how he did love the gentle girl, the little more than
child, who confided herself to him--how he loved even her memory now far
more than he loved 'Lina, but something kept the full confession back,
and he answered: "I don't know. We must have money, and 'Lina is rich, while Lily was
very poor, and the only friend or relation she knew was one with whom I
would not dare have you come in contact, so wicked and reckless he was."
This was what the doctor said, and into the brown eyes, now bloodshot
and dim with anguish, there came the hard, fierce look, before which
Alice Johnson once had shuddered, when Adah Hastings said: "I should hate him! Yes, I should hate him!"
And in that dark hour of agony Adah felt that she did hate him. She knew
now that what she before would not believe was true. He had not made her
a lawful wife, else he had never dared to take another.