Poor Thea! Her one thought and desire, after learning the bitter truth
that her husband’s first wife lived to triumph over her, was to get
away as far as possible from the husband with whom she had been so
wildly happy, but whom to meet again would be the bitterest misery.
She made the nurse pack a hand-satchel with some changes of clothing
for herself and the baby, and at day-dawn, after a night of the
bitterest despair, she made her way to a railroad station, where she
bought a ticket for the West, determined to hide herself forever from
all who had ever known her until death put an end to her pain.
She had several hundred dollars in her little purse--for Norman kept
her always generously supplied with money--and she thought that she
could find work before that was gone.
So the train rushed on and on for three weary days and nights, and when
she came at last to the busy, bustling town which she had chosen at
hap-hazard as her destination, the girl was so ill that she staggered
as she walked to the carriage with the heavy child in her arms,
and could barely falter out her desire to be taken to a quiet and
respectable hotel.
Thea did not know what had put the name of that town in her mind.
She thought she had chosen it at hap-hazard; but in reality it was
the place where Frank Hinton had settled to practice medicine, and a
beneficent fate had suggested it to her mind in that dark hour when
everything had seemed dazed and gloomy before her vision. If she had
dreamed of Frank being there, she would never have ventured near; but
it was her good angel that led her to that spot, for within a few hours
after her arrival at the hotel she grew so much worse that fever and
delirium set in, and the alarmed landlady sent off in haste for the
nearest physician, who proved to be Frank Hinton.
When Frank saw his old love--sweet Thea, whom he had never been able
to banish from his heart--he was almost overcome with surprise and
agitation. He stood for a few moments almost dazed as he watched the
lovely, fever-flushed face and violet eyes glittering in delirium as
she tossed her white arms in the air, raving wildly of her love and
sorrow. Then he turned to the observant landlady, who had taken the
fretful child in her arms, and said, huskily:
“This lady is an old friend of mine. I knew her in Virginia years ago.
Her husband is rich and of high standing, and I can not understand why
his wife is here like this. I will telegraph to him, and we must have
two good nurses--one for the child and one for her, for she has brain
fever.”
“A nurse for the lady, if you like, sir; but, good land! there’s a
dozen idle women in this house that will like nothing better than to
nurse the little darling till his pretty mamma gets well,” cried the
fat, bustling landlady. She laid one of her plump hands compassionately
on the shower of golden tresses floating over the pillow. “Brain fever!
Oh, you don’t mean to say that you’ll cut off these pretty curls?”
“Not if I can help it,” was the answer; and poor Frank vowed to himself
that he would save all that golden glory for Norman de Vere, if he
could, and that he would give all his time and care to saving the life
of the sweet young girl who had once been like a little sister to him.
And this is how the telegram was sent by him to Norman de Vere, and so
skillfully did he attend upon Thea that in a few days she began to show
a marked change for the better, regained her senses, and recognized
Dr. Hinton as he lingered beside her. Then Lord Stuart and his sister
arrived, and Thea was so glad at seeing all these dear friends about
her again that she wept for joy, and although she declared that she
wanted to die, her strong constitution triumphed over her, and she
began to convalesce very fast.