HUBERT VARRICK RESCUES JESSIE BAIN.
We must return to Jessie Bain.
The girl had scarcely proceeded a block through the blinding snow-drifts
ere she began to grow chill and numb.
"I can never make my way to the store!" she moaned. "I-- I will perish
in this awful cold!"
She grew bewildered as to the direction which had been given her. "It
can not be that I am going the right way," she sobbed.
Involuntarily she turned around and took the first cross-street in view.
She had scarcely made her way half a dozen blocks when the knowledge was
fully forced upon her that she must have lost her way, that each step
she took was bringing her toward the suburbs of the city instead of the
business portion.
Jessie stopped short. Then she fell. Hubert Varrick, on the other side
of the street, saw the slender figure suddenly reel backward, whirl
about, and then fall face downward in a huge snow-drift that swallowed
her from sight. He plunged quickly forward, muttering to himself: "What
a terrible thing it is for a weak woman to be out on such a night as
this!"
And he wondered if it could be the poor sewing-girl whom he had just
heard the servants discussing. They had said that Rosamond Lee had sent
her to one of the stores for a few yards of velvet ribbon, without
giving her her car-fare, expecting her to walk all the way in the face
of such a storm.
"I declare, it is a thousand pities!" muttered Varrick.
In less time than it takes to tell it he had reached the spot where the
girl lay prostrate.
Heavens! how thinly she was clad! And he shivered even from the depths
of his fur-lined overcoat at the very thought of it.
Deftly as a woman might have done, he raised her, remembering that there
was a drug store across the way to which he could carry her. For one
instant his eyes rested on her face in the dim, uncertain, fading
daylight; then an awful cry broke from his lips--a cry of horror.
"My God! is it Jessie Bain? Am I mad, or am I dreaming?"
He looked again. Surely there was no mistaking that lovely face, with
the curling locks lying over her white forehead.
Do not censure him, that in that instant he forgot the whole world, only
remembering that fate had given into his arms the one being in this
wide earth his soul longed for. He had found Jessie Bain.
Mad with delight, he clasped her in his arms and covered her face with
fervid kisses. He kissed the snowy cheeks and lips, and the
cotton-gloved hands. Then the thought suddenly occurred to him that he
was losing valuable time. Every moment was precious, her young life
might be in jeopardy while he was keeping her out there in the bitter
cold.
In a trice he tore off his warm fur coat, wrapped it about her, and
hurried over to the drug store, bearing his beautiful burden as though
she were but a child.
"This way!" he called out sharply to the clerk in attendance. "Attend
quickly to this young lady! She has been overcome with the cold! She is
dying!"
The young man behind the counter responded with alacrity, and hurriedly
resorted to the restoratives usually applied in those cases, Hubert
Varrick standing by, watching every action, his heart in his eyes, his
face pale as death.
Every effort of the young man to revive Jessie Bain seemed futile.
"I should not wonder, sir, if this was a case of heart failure," he
declared. "Generally they die instantly, though I have known them to
linger for several hours. You had better summon an ambulance, sir, and
have her taken to the hospital. There is one just around the corner.
Shall I ring for it, sir?"
"No; I will carry her there myself. You say it is just around the
corner?"
Feeing the man generously, even though he had failed to restore the poor
girl, Hubert Varrick caught her in his arms once more, again faced the
terrible storm with her, and arrived at the hospital, panting at every
step, for he had run the entire distance.
He summoned a doctor. To him he stated his mission, adding that he
feared the girl was dying, and that he would give half his fortune if
the doctor would but save her life, as it was more precious to him than
the whole world beside.
The man of medicine said it was only a question of suspended animation.
If pneumonia did not set in, there was no cause for alarm.
Jessie was quickly given in charge of one of the nurses, a gentle,
madonna-faced woman. She was quickly put to bed, and everything done for
her that skill and experience could suggest. Hubert Varrick begged
permission to sit by her couch and watch the progress of their efforts.
"Do your best," he cried, his strong voice quivering with emotion, "and
I will make it worth your while. You can name your own price."
The long hours of the night passed; morning broke cold and gray through
the eastern sky, making the soft lamp-light that flooded the room look
pale and wan in the dim, gray morn. The white face lying against the
pillow had never stirred, nor had the blue eyes unclosed. The sun was
high in the heavens when it occurred to him, for the first time, that
the folks would be greatly worried about him. During the night the
girl's white lips had parted, and she murmured, faintly: "I must push on
through the terrible storm, though the faintness of death seems creeping
over me, for Miss Rosamond is waiting for the velvet ribbon."
Hubert Varrick's strained ears had caught the words as he bent over her,
and as he heard them his rage knew no bounds, for it was clear enough to
him now that Jessie Bain, the girl he loved, had been the victim of
Rosamond Lee's cruelty. The blood fairly boiled in his veins. He felt
that he could never look upon Rosamond Lee's face again.
He was so accustomed to terrible surprises that nothing seemed to affect
him of late. That Jessie Bain should have found employment under his own
grandfather's roof shocked him a little at first.
But as he began to fully realize it, he said to himself that it was the
hand of fate that had led her there, that he might find her. It was not
until the sun had climbed the horizon, had crossed it, and was sinking
down on the other side, that consciousness came back to Jessie Bain.
With the first fluttering of the white eyelids, the doctor in attendance
motioned Hubert Varrick away.
"She must not see you," he said. "It might give her a set-back. Just now
we can not be too careful of her."
This was a great disappointment to Varrick, but he tried to bear it
patiently.
For two long and weary weeks Jessie Bain was too ill to leave the
shelter of that roof. Hubert Varrick took rooms in a lodging-house
opposite, that he might be near her at all times.
Great was Jessie Bain's consternation, when consciousness returned to
her, to find herself in a hospital, with a kindly-faced nurse bending
over her.
"What has happened?" she cried. "Why am I here? Ah, let me get back to
Miss Rosamond!" she cried. "She will be so very angry with me."
Gently the nurse informed her that she had been there a fortnight. She
told her how a gentleman had saved her from the terrible storm, bringing
her there in his arms, his own coat wrapped about her, and how he had
ever since spent his time hanging about the place, feeing with gold
those who attended her to do everything in their power for her.
"I did not know that there was any one in this whole wide world that
would do so much for me," murmured Jessie, in bewilderment. "Please
thank him for me, kind nurse."
"Nay, you must do that yourself, child," said the woman, smilingly. "And
let me tell you this: he seems to be greatly in love with you."
"It can not be."
"I assure you that it is quite true. Every one is speaking of how
devoted he is to you. If I were you, I'd-- Ah! here he comes now. I will
leave you alone with him to thank him, my dear."
So saying, the nurse left the room.
"Little Jessie!" Hubert whispered, almost beside himself with joy.
"Mr. Varrick!" she breathed in a low voice of awe.
Then he poured a tale of passionate love into her ears, but before
Jessie could answer he had caught the little hands again in his warm
clasp, covered them with kisses, and was gone.
Jessie Bain tried to collect her scattered senses. Her head seemed in a
whirl. All that had happened within the last few minutes appeared but
the coinage of her own brain.
When the nurse came in again she found the girl feverish with
excitement.
"Come, come, my dear; this will never do," said the nurse. "You will be
sure to have a relapse if you are not very careful. Think how badly that
would make the young man feel."
Jessie smiled. Suddenly a low cry broke from her lips, and she started
up pale with emotion. She had suddenly recalled poor Margaret and she
told the nurse the whole story.
"Give me her address, and I will telegraph there for you," said the
nurse. "To be frank with you, the gentleman left a well-filled purse,
which he bid us place at your disposal. You are to want for no luxury
that money can purchase for you."
Jessie Bain was overcome by the wonderful kindness of Hubert Varrick.
Her first thought was that she could never accept another penny, for she
was too much indebted to him already. Then came the thought of
Margaret--poor Margaret! She begged the nurse to send a telegram in all
haste, informing the boarding-house keeper that the money for Margaret
Moore's board would be forthcoming.
This request was carried out at once, and within an hour the answer came
back that Jessie Bain's telegram had come too late. No money having come
in time for the girl's board, she had been sent to one of the public
asylums, and while _en route_ there, by some means she had made her
escape, and her whereabouts was then unknown.
Jessie's grief was great upon hearing this. The nurse believed that the
bitter sobs which shook Jessie's slender frame would give her a relapse
that would keep her there for many a day.
"There is but one thing to do," she said, trying to console Jessie, "and
that is to get back your health and strength as soon as you can, and
make a search for her. You will find her if you advertise and offer a
reward to any one who will tell you of her whereabouts."
Surely, the money which Hubert Varrick had placed at her disposal could
not be used for a nobler purpose; and then, if Heaven intended her to
get well and strong again, she could soon pay him the amount borrowed.
Again the nurse did everything in her power to carry out her patient's
wishes. The advertisement duly appeared in the leading New York papers,
but as the days passed, all hope that she would be able to find Margaret
was abandoned.
In the third day after Hubert Varrick's departure, a long letter came
for her.
"What do you think I have for you, Miss Bain?" said the nurse.
"Has the--the letter come that Mr. Varrick said he would write?" she
asked, eagerly.
"That's just what it is," was the smiling reply; and the thick, white
envelope was placed in her hands.
"I will leave you alone while you read it, Miss Bain," and added
smilingly: "A young girl loves best to be alone when she reads such a
letter as I imagine this to be. There--there; don't blush and look so
embarrassed."
The next moment Jessie was alone with Hubert's letter.