ZILLAH'S LETTER.
"One morning, while we were arranging a drive for the afternoon, General
Harrington entered the room, bringing a letter in his hand.
"'How do you find yourself this morning, fair lady!' he asked,
approaching his wife and kissing her hand with his accustomed
gallantry.
"'Quite well,' she answered, lifting her eyes to his with that lovely
smile of greeting she always had for him, and which made her face so
beautiful.
"'That is the most delightful news that could greet me,' he replied,
with one of his courtly bows. 'How is my paragon of wards?' he
continued, turning to me.
"I answered him pleasantly; he was so elegant and thorough-bred that one
was insensibly forced to restrain even pettish thoughts in his presence.
But I was abashed all the while, for I noticed that as the General came
up to the sofa, James immediately retreated and resumed his seat in the
window. He had often of late betrayed those little signs of desiring to
avoid the General's society, and they puzzled me very much, for the
elder man's behavior to him was always friendly and courteous in the
extreme.
"'I need not ask after your health, James,' the General said, good
naturedly, 'because it cannot have materially altered since I made the
inquiry an hour ago.'
"'What is that letter?' asked Mrs. Harrington, with the curiosity that
becomes habitual with most invalids, and speaking so quickly, that
James' disregard of his stepfather's remark was not noticeable.
"'It is for you, madam; I could not resist the pleasure of giving it to
you myself, for I know how much you like to receive letters.'
"'Thanks! You manage in everything to give me a double pleasure,' she
said, taking the letter from his hand and tearing it open.
"'From Zillah,' she said, glancing down the page.
"I saw James start. He caught me looking at him, and quieted himself at
once; but I noted his agitation plainly.
"The General was busy wheeling an easy chair near the sofa, and did not
catch his wife's remark.
"'From whom did you say it was, my dear?' he asked.
"'From Zillah,' she replied, without looking up.
"'She, indeed,' said he carelessly, 'and what does the poor and rather
bad tempered Zillah have to say?'
"He sat down by his wife's side, playing with the flowers that lay on
her cushions, and did not observe the quick, angry, defiant look that
James shot at him as he spoke.
"'Poor girl,' said Mrs. Harrington, as she finished reading the hurried
scrawl, 'she is pining to come and join us; she says she is much better,
but so lonely and homesick that she feels it will be impossible for her
to get well until she is safe with us again.'
"The General shrugged his shoulders.
"'Your spoiled Zillah is seldom contented,' he said, pleasantly enough.
"'Just read the letter,' Mrs. Harrington said, placing it in his hands.
'I am sure you will be sorry for her--she says she feels like a poor
little Italian grey-hound left out in the cold.'
"The General read the letter and returned it to his wife, saying--
"'I suppose she is lonely, and since she is well enough to travel, of
course she had better come on at once--she can be of service to you, I
dare say, even if she is not strong enough to resume her old duties.'
"'I really want to see her, pretty creature,' Mrs. Harrington said,
glancing over portions of the letter again.
"'I feel quite lost without her caprices and bad temper--besides, she
always knows exactly what is to be done for me, and does it in the best
way.'
"'Only, thanks to Miss Mabel's kindness, you have not had time to miss
her,' the General said.
"'Oh, there never was such a nurse as Mabel,' cried she, 'but then I
can't quite make a servant of her, willing as she is to sacrifice
herself to my whims.'
"'I scarcely thought you regarded the girl Zillah quite as a servant,'
said James, speaking for the first time. There was something so bitter
in his voice, that I wondered they did not notice it.
"'Indeed I do not,' Mrs. Harrington replied. 'She is faithful and
loving, and so handsome that it is like having some exotic flower about
me.'
"'Mrs. Harrington never forgets what is due herself or others, James,
whether they may be dependent or friends,' the General said, in a more
reproving tone than I ever before heard him employ towards his wife's
son.
"Again James' dark eyes flashed upon him that strange look of anger and
defiance.
"'May I see the letter, mother?' he asked, quickly.
"'Certainly,' Mrs. Harrington said, stretching out her hand over the
back of the sofa.
"As James took the letter, the General said--
"'Zillah is not likely to have any important secrets to write to your
mother.'
"I might--perhaps it was fancy, caused by the suspicion that was in my
own mind--but I thought he slightly emphasized the words 'your mother.'
No, I am sure it was not fancy, for James' lips shut together in the
compressed way they did when he was angry, and a frown gathered on his
forehead--he had caught the peculiar tone as I did."