hed the feverish skin, pushing back, with a
half-caressing motion, the rings of damp, brown hair, and still the
wicked Hugh never moved, nor winked, nor gave the slightest token of the
ecstatic bliss he was enjoying.

"What a consummate hypocrite I am, to lie here and let her do what
money could not tempt her to do, if she knew that I was conscious, but
hanged if I don't like it," was Hugh's mental comment, while Alice's
was: "Poor Hugh, the doctor said he would probably be better when he
waked from this sleep, better or worse. Oh, what if he should die, and
leave no sign of repentance," and by the rustling movement, Hugh knew
that Alice Johnson was kneeling at his side, and with his hot hands in
hers was praying for him, that he might not die.

"Spare him for his mother, he is her only boy," he heard her say, and on
the pillow, where his face was lying, the great tear drops fell, as he
thought how unworthy he was that she should pray for him.

He knew the pillow was wet, and shuddered when Alice attempted to fix
his head, turning it more to the light. She saw the tear stains, and
murmured to herself: "I did not think it was so warm." Then, sitting
down beside him, she fanned him gently, occasionally feeling for his
pulse to see if it were as rapid as ever. Once, as she touched his
wrist, his fingers closed involuntarily around her little hand and held
it a prisoner. He could not help it; the temptation was too strong to be
resisted, and then he reflected that a crazy man was not responsible for
his actions! As rational Hugh, he could never hope to touch that little
soft hand trembling in his like a frightened bird, so he would as crazy
Hugh improve his opportunity; and he did, holding fast the hand, and
when she attempted to draw it away, pressing it tighter and muttering:

"No, no; mother, no."

"He thinks I am you," Alice whispered, as Mrs. Worthington came in, and
Hugh's heart gave one great throb of filial love when his mother stooped
over him, and 'mid a shower of tears kissed his forehead and lips,
murmuring:

"Darling boy, he'll never know how much his poor mother loved him, or
how her heart will break with missing him if he dies."

It was with the utmost difficulty that Hugh could restrain himself then,
from assuring his mother that the crisis was passed and he was out of
danger.

"I've gone too far now, the hypocrite that I am," he thought. "Alice
Johnson never would forgive me. I can't retract now, n