"Oh, mother," and in Alice's voice there was a sound of tears, "you do
him injustice, and he has been so kind to us, while Snowdon is so much
pleasanter since he came."
"Are you engaged to him?" was Mrs. Johnson's next question.
"No," and Alice looked up wonderingly. "I do not believe I like him
well enough for that."
Alice Johnson was wholly ingenuous and would not for the world have
concealed a thing from her mother, and very frankly she continued: "I like Dr. Richards better than any gentleman I have ever met. I should
have told you, mother."
"God bless my darling, and keep her as innocent as now," Mrs. Johnson
murmured. "I am glad there is no engagement. Will you promise there
shall not be for one year at least?"
"Yes, I will, I do," Alice said at last.
A second "God bless my darling," came from the mother's lips, and
drawing her treasure nearer to her, she continued: "You have made me
very happy, and by and by you'll be so glad. You may leave me now, for I
am tired and sick."
It was long ere Alice forgot the expression of her mother's face or the
sound of her voice, so full of love and tenderness, as she bade her
good-night on that last evening they ever spent together alone. The
indisposition of which Mrs. Johnson had been complaining for several
days, proved to be no light matter, and when next morning Dr. Rogers was
summoned to her bedside, he decided it to be a fever which was then
prevailing to some extent in the neighboring towns.
That afternoon it was told at Terrace Hill that Mrs. Johnson was very
sick, and half an hour later the Richards carriage, containing the
doctor and his Sister Anna, wound down the hill, and passing through the
park, turned in the direction of the cottage, where they found Mrs.
Johnson even worse than they had anticipated. The sight of distress
aroused Anna at once, and forgetting her own feebleness she kindly
offered to stay until night if she could be of any service. Mrs. Johnson
was fond of Anna, and she expressed her pleasure so eagerly that Anna
decided to remain, and went with Alice to remove her wrappings.
"Oh, I forgot!" she exclaimed, as a sudden thought seemed to strike her.
"I don't know as I can stay after all, though I might write it here, I
suppose as well as at home; and as John is going to New York to-night he
will take it along."
"What is it?" Alice asked; and Anna replied: "You'll think me very foolish, no doubt, but I want to know if you too
think so. I'm so dependent on other's opinions," and, in a low tone,
Anna told of the advertisement seen early last winter, how queerly it
was expressed, and how careless John had been in tearing off the name
and address, with which to light his cigar. "It seems to me," she
continued, "that 'unfortunate married woman' is the very one I want."