ooved her to try her best to
remove any wrong impression he might have formed of her. "He shall like
me," she thought; "not as he must like that golden-haired maiden whose
existence this sprite of a negro has discovered, but as a friend, or
sister," and a softer light shone in Alice's blue eyes, as she foresaw
in fancy Hugh gradually coming to like her, to be glad that she was
there, and to miss her when she was gone.

CHAPTER XX

POOR HUGH

Could Hugh have known the feelings with which Alice Johnson already
regarded him, and the opinion she had expressed to Muggins, it would
perhaps have stilled the fierce throbbings of his heart, which sent the
hot blood so swiftly through his veins, and made him from the first
delirious. They had found him in the quiet court, just after the
sunsetting, and his uncovered head was already wet with the falling dew,
and with the profuse perspiration induced by his long, heavy sleep. They
could not arouse him to a distinct consciousness as to where he was or
what had happened. He only talked of Ad and the Golden Haired, asking
that they would take him anywhere, where neither could ever see him
again. He was well known at the hotel, and measures were immediately
taken for apprising his family of the sudden illness, and for removing
him to Spring Bank as soon as possible.

Breakfast was not yet over at Spring Bank, and Aunt Eunice was just
wondering what could have become of Hugh, when from her position near
the window she discovered a horseman riding across the lawn at a rate
which betokened some important errand. Alice spied him, too, and the
same thought flashed over both herself and Aunt Eunice. "Something had
befallen Hugh."

Alice was the first upon the piazza, where she stood waiting till the
rider came up, his horse covered with foam, and himself flurried and
excited.

"Are you Miss Worthington?" he asked, doffing his soft hat, and feeling
a thrill of wonder at sight of her marvelous beauty.

"Miss Worthington is not at home," she said, going down the steps and
advancing closer to him, "but I can take your message. Is anything the
matter with Mr. Worthington?"

Aunt Eunice had now joined her, and listened breathlessly while the
young man told of Hugh's illness, which threatened to be the prevailing
fever.

"They were bringing him home," he said--"were now on the way, and he had
ridden in advance to prepare them for his coming."

Aunt Eunice seemed literally stu